#and they say you should spend DAYS for each step of introductions. so literally waiting hours before you give back food and water and a hid

[swagging-back-to]

im actually floored by how well the girls are getting along. they're all running on the wheel together and just napping. they are literally so chill together rn it's insane

[ptergwen]

Hey Val! I love ur writing so so much and ur amazing! My request is maybe like a Tom Holland x Reader where Y/N is a famous actress and Paddy’s celeb crush, and one day Tom brings Y/N home to meet his brothers and Paddy is vying for her attention and Tom and Paddy get jealous of each other? Thanks in advance if u decide to write this!💕

thank you so much love!! i took forever on this i’m sorry :( please enjoy

-

“you’re dating who?” paddy gawks, harry snickering at him from across the table. tom leans back in his chair. “y/n y/l/n. you’ve heard of her, haven’t you?” he clasps his hands behind his head. “i’ve seen all her movies at least twice. i… i love her!” his youngest brother beams. “so do i,” tom playfully challenges.

“darling, you should bring her by tomorrow. sam’s cooking us dinner,” nikki suggests with a supportive smile. hearing his name mentioned, sam peeks up from his phone. “since when?” “since your brother has a girlfriend he’s only just told us about!” she nudges tom’s shoulder. tom bites back the grin growing on his lips. “a girlfriend he loves, at that.”

“he’s not the only one,” harry comments and glances at paddy, whose whole face has gone red. “i guess i could whip something up. i’m visiting the shops later,” sam agrees with a nod at tom. he winks back. “thanks, mate.” turning to his mom, tom’s own face gets warm. “sorry i haven’t said anything, mum. we’ve been trying to keep our relationship on the low. dating in hollywood is…”

“a shit show,” nikki finishes for tom. her words make him chuckle. “exactly. we wanted to make sure we were ready before bringing in the rest of the world.” eager as ever, paddy speaks up again. “i think we’re the perfect people to start with, specifically me.” that earns a quirked eyebrow from tom. “easy there, padster man.” he looks him over, trying to figure out his motives. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were trying to steal my girl.”

paddy points at him with a glint in his eyes tom has never seen. “you don’t know any better.”

the family gets back to their conversation, talking about what you’re like and how their dad’s gigs are going. tom is a bit distracted, though. he isn’t sure what paddy meant by that. realistically, he knows he won’t be stealing you away. there’s a huge age gap among other things. it seems to tom like paddy has a crush on you, a big one. he’s probably just excited to meet you. that’s good, right?

tom doesn’t think about it again until arriving back at his parents’ the next day. you’re with him this time, nervously clutching at your purse in one hand while your free one squeezes his. he frowns at your fidgeting.

“y/n… they’re gonna love you, sweetheart,” he assures you, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “how do you know?” you wonder as you two walk up the steps. “because i love you, and i think paddy’s got a thing for you as well.” he’s smirking when he tells you this. scoffing, you curl into tom’s side. “i love you too, but what’s up with paddy?” you stand next to tom on the porch. he rings the doorbell before replying.

“he’s watched your whole filmography, all your interviews,” tom explains, shaking his head lightheartedly. “i’m sure there’s a poster or two of you in his room somewhere.” you pout your lower lip out. “aw, so he’s a fan?” “he’s my competition,” he jokes. your head falls onto tom’s shoulder with a sigh. “he’s a literal child, tom… and your brother.” you glance up at him wickedly. “maybe i can sign his posters. i think he’d like that.”

tom slips his arm around your waist, hearing footsteps come towards the door. “oh, paddy would be thrilled,” he confirms. your response is a hum as the front door swings open. “tom, darling. back so soon?” nikki teases her son, then gives you the warmest grin. “you must be y/n. we haven’t heard much about you, but we will.” you return the smile and let her take your hand to guide you inside.

after all the introductions, you gather outside to sit and talk. sam is in the kitchen cooking, nikki is helping him, and harry is setting the table. that leaves you with tom and paddy. they’re on either side of you, your head on tom’s shoulder and his arm around both of yours. paddy is talking about a school project while you nod along. he’s completely harmless, contrary to how tom described him.

“the deadline is next friday, but i’ve only just started,” paddy explains, you laughing softly. tom’s lips brush your ear. “i’m gonna look for something to drink. do you want anything?” he speaks in a whisper and trails his fingertips over your shoulder. “sure, tommy. whatever you’re having, thanks,” you reply with a kiss to the back of his hand. paddy clenches his jaw as he watches you two.

“what about you, pads? soda?” tom teases and earns a giggle from you. “i told you not to call me that,” paddy groans back. he scrunches his face up when tom reaches over you to ruffle his hair. “someone’s got to put you in your place. soda it is.” “don’t take too long.” you tilt your head back to look at tom. “i won’t.” he licks his lips before pressing them to yours, trying to deepen it form the angle.

“children are present,” you remind him, sitting back up promptly. “be a good boy and get our drinks.” “ok, fine. i’m going,” tom laughs out, pecking your cheek and standing from the couch. paddy rolls his eyes when his brother finally gets inside. he hates being thought of as a child by you, even if he is one. “so,” you start to fill the silence. “what else are you-“

“i think you’re an incredible actress,” paddy says instead with an innocent smile. “really? thank you so much.” you rest your head in your hand, grinning. “tom kinda told me already. he said you’ve seen all my movies.” “did he?” paddy repeats bitterly. he’d probably made him sound obsessed. you’re still grinning. “mhm, and that you might have posters of me.” his eyes widen, cheeks flushing a deep pink. he’ll never let tom in his room again.

“between you and me…” you look behind you to make sure tom isn’t coming. paddy scoots closer to you and nods. “i think tom is a little jealous.” “he should be,” paddy mumbles to himself. that doesn’t stop you from hearing. “what are you-“ “how about you help me with my project? i could use the extra hands,” he smoothly changes the subject. must be a holland thing.

“let’s wait until after dinner. tom is gonna be back soon, anyway,” you try to reason. you’re only fueling the fire by saying that. “i need to use all the time i have. come with me!” he’s grabbing your hands before you can protest again. you end up following paddy to his room, tom still sucked into a conversation with the rest of his family. harry sees you two pass by. he murmurs a div to paddy.

when tom gets back outside with two beers and a coke, you and paddy are gone. he frowns, heading to the kitchen once again.

“has anyone seen y/n?” he wonders and scans the room for you. “i think paddy stole her.” “they’re in his room. he just brought her up,” harry replies, his lips forming a line. a bit of anger bubbles in tom upon hearing this. “dinner is nearly done!” nikki gasps. “bring them back down,” sam requests. setting the drinks on the counter, tom sighs. “will do. give me a minute.”

tom’s annoyance only grows as he ascends the stairs. he can hear your giggling from behind the bedroom door, obviously caused by paddy. it’s silly that he’s so jealous of his baby brother, but he knows him well.

the door opens to reveal you laying stomach down on the floor and paddy on his bed. you’re autographing a picture of yourself while he gets books together for his assignment. tom isn’t sure what he was expecting, though he’s relieved this is all it is.

“oh, tom!” you notice him standing in the doorway and cap the pen. “you were right about the posters, babe.” “i see.” tom clicks his tongue. paddy scowls at his brother. “i can’t believe you told her,” he grumbles, you handing him the signed photograph. “no, it’s fine! i think it’s really sweet.” his face relaxes. “nevermind, then.” he’s now making heart eyes at you, tom inhaling a sharp breath.

“y/n/n, can i talk to you?” he asks quietly, eyes flitting over to paddy. “in private?” “um, yeah. i’ll be right back, okay?” you tell paddy with an apologetic smile. he shoots you a thumbs up, tom stepping aside so you can leave the room. “mum wants you for dinner in five, actually,” tom corrects. he’s quick to close the door behind him so he doesn’t have to hear complaints.

you’re leaning against the wall, arms crossed over your chest. tom walks up to you cautiously. “what the hell was that?” you squint at him. “i came back with the drinks, and you were gone,” he answers lowly, and not to your satisfaction. “which doesn’t answer my question.” “i… well…” tom huffs childishly. “paddy’s whisked you away! i wanted you to spend the night with my family, yeah?” he sets his hands on your hips.

putting your own hands on both his shoulders, you look at him knowingly. “babe, paddy is your family. there’s nothing wrong with some one on one time.” tom stares down at the floor while rubbing his thumb over your hip. he doesn’t say anything. “so what if he has a little crush on me? he’ll get over it.” you take a step closer to him. “what makes you think that?” tom chews his lower lip.

“he’s just starstruck. and, i’m his future sister in law,” you confidently respond, finally making tom perk up. he exhales a laugh and pulls your body against his, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead. “bonding isn’t such a bad idea after all.” “mm, i told you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck. paddy leaves his room then, his face falling at the sight in front of him. this time, tom puts his pettiness aside.

“get in here, padster man. we’ve got room for one more.”

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

By the end of avatar it's pretty clear that the gaang have no problem with/are friends with mai (suki playing pai sho with her, katara watching, sokka including her in his picture) so I was wondering how you think mai and the gaang's relationship developed from the coronation to the end scene

“This is Mai,” Zuko said. “My girlfriend.”

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Right. Mai kind of wanted to die. They were just… staring at her. She hadn’t expected a positive reaction, by any means, but no reaction at all…? Ugh. Little was worse.

“It’s nice to officially meet you!” Aang said, giving her a bright smile. The rest of the group followed with tentative waves and a few nods in her general direction.

The awkwardness might have gone on another five minutes if she and Zuko hadn’t been asked for by an advisor, cutting her introduction short. Well, Zuko had been asked for, and he’d slipped his hand into hers before pulling her along. So she hadn’t been given much say in the matter.

“They’ll come around,” Zuko told her later, when they were lying in bed. “You’ll see.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “They took me in, after all.”

Mai wanted to believe him. “If you say so.”

Sokka was first.

Mai saw him struggling to walk down the steps of the palace, awkwardly attempting to maneuver his crutches but wincing every time his injured leg hit the ground.

“Let me help,” she offered, lifting his arm around her shoulders to help take the weight off his foot. Perhaps she should have waited for him to give confirmation, but in some ways Sokka reminded her of Zuko - rarely willing to accept assistance, even when he needed it. He let her take his crutches, though, and she interpreted that as a sign of silent cooperation.

Sokka gave her a crooked grin when they’d reached the foot of the steps. “Thanks.”

She nodded curtly, returning his crutches to him. “It was no trouble.” She turned to walk away, but stiffened and stopped in her tracks as Sokka placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I, uh… This is kind of random, but I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for - for what you did at the Boiling Rock.” Sokka cleared his throat. “For saving us. Me. My dad. Suki. Zuko.”

Mai winced at the memory. The despair, the rage Azula’s eyes. The paralyzing fear that had ripped through her chest when she’d watched her friend - if Azula could ever be called that - drop into her lightning stance. And yet…

She’d do it again. A hundred times.

“I don’t think you should be thanking me for doing the right thing,” Mai said as she slowly turned around. “For doing the bare minimum, really.”

Sokka laughed. “Maybe you’re right. But from what I’ve heard, treason against the Fire Nation isn’t usually considered the bare minimum.” He hesitated, then offered her a grateful smile. “I mean it, though. If you hadn’t saved us…” Something akin to grief flickered in his eyes. An expression that was a little more raw, a little more tired. “I can’t lose anyone else,” he finally said. “So thank you, Mai.”

Mai stared at him in perhaps more shock than was necessary, because Sokka laughed again.

“Can I hug you?” he asked. “It’s kind of an official thing to dub you as part of my friend group.”

Mai hesitated, but nodded, and Sokka shuffled forward to pull her into a brief, tight embrace that Mai was surprised to find herself returning.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a hugger,” she said after releasing him.

Sokka chuckled. “For a long time, I guess I wasn’t.” He winked at her. “But things change, right?”

She supposed they did.

Aang was second.

Mai wondered, perhaps, if he would have been first, had his duties as the Avatar not taken up so much of his time, especially in those first days after the war had formally ended.

“Hi, Mai!” Aang said cheerily, waving at her from atop his bison. “Want to take a ride on Appa with me?”

Mai glanced around her, as if someone else named Mai would appear from behind a pillar to take him up on his offer. When none did, she responded with a hesitant nod.

She wished Zuko was there.

“Do you need help getting up?” Aang asked as she walked towards him, pausing when she reached Appa’s side. “I can provide a boost if you need it.”

Mai raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk unwittingly inching onto her lips. “Could you provide a boost even if I don’t need it?”

Aang returned her smirk with a wide grin. “Your wish is my command, Lady Mai.”

Mai was mortified to admit that a startled yelp escaped her lips as Aang airbended her up and onto Appa’s saddle, but he didn’t comment on it. She supposed he was probably used to that sort of sound being an instinctive reaction.

“Ready?” Aang asked. He didn’t wait for her to respond before gently snapping the bison’s reins. “Yip yip, Appa!”

He reminded her of Ty Lee in that respect - never waiting for an answer unless one was truly required.

Appa roared and took off into the sky. Mai kept her eyes squeezed shut for longer than she’d care to admit.

After the initial anxiety of flying higher than she ever had in her life faded, Mai found herself relaxing into her seat on the saddle, one elbow resting comfortably on the edge. Aang chattered aimlessly about post-war plans, and Mai commented every now and then if his ramblings had to do with Zuko. It was… strange. Everything about Aang caused a tiny smile to rest perpetually on her face.

No wonder her boyfriend was so fond of him.

“Wanna go higher?” Aang offered at one point, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

Mai didn’t respond at first, staring upwards at the endless pink sky. “Can you take me into the clouds?” she finally asked.

Aang laughed. “Let’s find out!”

Katara was third.

“I told you, Zuko can’t see anyone right now!”

Mai paused upon hearing the irritation that drenched Katara’s voice. She’d just turned the corner into the hallway that Zuko’s room was off of, and, trusting her better judgement, chose to hang back.

Katara was staring down a tall man in formal robes - oh. Ew. Mai recognized him as one of Zuko’s more annoying advisors. Her boyfriend hated the man, too.

“Kata-”

“Master Katara.” She glared at the noble, and respect bubbled in Mai’s chest.

“Master Katara.” Mai relished in the discomfort of the man’s tone. “I understand that you wish to allow the Fire Lord as much rest as possible, but he has responsibilities he cannot abandon -”

“Zuko can’t fulfill those responsibilities immediately after a healing session!” Katara snapped. “How would you like if someone bandaged your broken arm and expected you to lift weights afterwards?”

The advisor stared at her in confusion. “But my arm isn’t broken.”

Katara placed her hand atop the flask that rested on her hip. “Not yet.”

Mai bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as blood drained from the man’s face. He gave Katara a hasty apology and took his leave.

That interaction had certainly raised her spirits.

But no visitors…

Mai’s grip tightened on the ceramic plate in her hands. The cup of tea resting atop it quivered. If Katara said Zuko wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, then she would respect that decision. She was no exception to the rules just because Zuko was her boyfriend.

Besides, Zuko was probably fine. She didn’t need to check on him, she was just letting her worries get the best of her again -

“Mai?”

Mai blinked upon hearing her name called. Blood rushed to her cheeks when she realized it was Katara who had spoken. “Yes?”

Katara gave her a warm smile, gesturing towards the plate in her hands. “Is that for Zuko?”

Mai hesitated, but nodded. “Tea,” she explained briefly. “I… tried to make it like Iroh does.” She took a step backwards. “But I can bring it back later, after more time has passed -”

Katara laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Mai. Zuko would never forgive me if I didn’t let you in.” She tilted her head. “Besides. You know you’re always welcome.”

Mai’s grip on the plate slackened, and she found herself returning Katara’s smile.

Toph was fourth.

“Mai! Spar with me!”

Mai was startled by the sudden interruption, though years of practice prevented her from showing it. “Why?” She’d never been the earthbender’s go-to partner before.

“Because knives are made of metal,” Toph said, as if it should have been obvious. “I want to see if I can bend projectiles mid-air. Or at least better detect the path they’ll follow so I can earthbend a wall to block them.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “And why would I agree to let you bend my knives?”

Toph grinned at her. “Who said anything about using yours?”

Mai’s eyes widened as Toph procured a large box from behind her back.

“We’ll practice with these. Don’t ask where I got them.”

Mai accepted the box from Toph, unable to stop the sharp gasp that escaped her lips as she admired the assortment of blades. “Alright,” she finally said, picking out a set of steel kunai. “I’ll spar with you. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

Mai spun one of the knives around her index finger. “Let me keep some of these when we’re done.”

Toph burst out laughing. “Oh, I knew I’d like you.” She smirked at Mai. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Suki was last.

They’d run into each other. Literally. Mai spilled all the papers she’d been holding, and Suki had immediately apologized before offering to help her sort back through them. She’d almost turned the girl down, but…

“I haven’t seen you much,” Mai commented as they were putting the documents into piles based on their contents. “Compared to the rest of Zuko’s friends, I mean.”

Suki shrugged. “I’ve been spending most of my time with Sokka and the Kyoshi warriors. We’re thinking about heading back home soon.”

Mai nodded. She placed a document about the differences between crowning a Fire Lord and a Fire Lady in its appropriate stack. She hesitated, then asked, “Does… Do you know if Ty Lee plans to go with you?”

Suki blew air out her lips. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I think she wants nothing more than to get out of the Fire Nation, but there are other days where… where I don’t think she can imagine leaving you and Zuko behind.”

Mai’s heart seized in her chest. Spirits, she needed to talk to her friend. New responsibilities after the war had kept them apart more days of the week than Mai liked. “I see.”

Suki offered her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry I can’t be more specific. I think I just” - she shook her head - “I don’t know Ty Lee well enough yet to read her and her feelings. The other girls had a chance to connect with her in prison, but I’d already escaped the Boiling Rock and was on the run with Sokka at that point, so I just… don’t have the same level of experience with her yet.”

Mai clenched the scroll in her hand so tightly she was half-concerned she’d tear a hole through it. “Speaking of prisons…” She licked her lips, her mouth having suddenly gone dry. “I… I wanted to apologize,” she continued after a momentary pause. Mai didn’t like how her voice had dropped close to a whisper.

Suki tilted her head in confusion, though there was a keen recognition in her eyes that made Mai wonder if she was merely feigning puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“I attacked you and your - your kinswomen. When you were protecting Appa.” Mai smoothed the scroll across the table before placing it in its appropriate stack. She didn’t dare meet the warrior’s eyes. “We got you arrested and sent to the Boiling Rock. And - I know an apology doesn’t make up for that, but…” She forced herself to look upwards. There was no bitterness, no resentment in Suki’s gaze. It was kinder than she deserved. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve or expect your forgiveness, but - I’m sorry.”

Mai had hurt Suki the most among Zuko’s new friends. There was no changing that. And she knew she would never be able to make up for the months in isolation the girl had endured, either, no matter what she did. No matter how much she wanted to. Wished she could.

Mai didn’t blame her for staying silent.

Then Suki sighed, unfurling the paper in her hands. “I had mixed feelings about you. For a long time.” She skimmed something on the scroll before placing it aside. “On the one hand, you put me in prison. On the other…” She gave Mai a tentative smile. “You freed me from it.”

Mai’s heart skipped a beat. “That doesn’t make it fair -”

Suki laughed, cutting her off. “At this point, I don’t think ‘fair’ exists. Not after what all of us have been through.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But like I said. I had mixed feelings about you.” She gave Mai a soft smile. “I know how Sokka thinks you’re the funniest person to walk the Earth since his father. How Katara lets you visit Zuko after their healing sessions, even though she’s probably not supposed to. And spirits, Mai, the way Zuko looks at you…” She shook her head, winking at her. “You won my friends over a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before you won me over, too.”

An unfamiliar warmth settled in Mai’s chest, and a tentative smile inched onto her lips. “Thank you.”

Suki waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. And with you around, at least I won’t be the only sane person in our group anymore.”

Mai snorted, recalling an earlier incident of Sokka daring Zuko to eat raw tart batter while Toph egged them on. ‘Egged’ in two ways - both very different, but both equally frustrating. “Will that really make much of a difference?”

Suki snickered. “Maybe not for them, but…” She handed Mai a scroll to be placed on a stack too far for her to reach. “I think I’ll appreciate the company.”

Mai accepted the paper, and she smiled at Suki. “I think I will, too.” She placed the smoothed-out scroll in its appropriate pile. “Care to join me for a game of Pai Sho later?”

“Oh, count me in! That sounds like a great cooldown.”

Well… Mai wouldn’t describe Pai Sho in exactly that fashion. But she figured Suki would learn that on her own time, and chose not to comment. “I look forward to it.”

That night, Mai slipped into Zuko’s bedchambers under the cover of darkness, as she’d been inclined to do ever since his return to the Fire Nation. Zuko’s eyes lit up upon seeing her, and he moved to make room for her beside him on his bed. She sat down, and rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as Zuko wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into his lap.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked, nuzzling his face into the back of her neck. He asked her the same question every night, and every night she told him the same answer - no. Then she’d gripe about whatever little thing had irked her over the course of the day. It was foolish, yet cathartic, and she knew Zuko didn’t mind. He probably found it entertaining.

“You know what?” Mai mused, thinking back to the mixture of glee and exasperation that had crossed Suki’s face numerous times during their earlier Pai Sho game. “I think I did.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Wow. What happened?”

Mai shrugged. Five faces floated through her mind, all people she’d grown to care for over the past few weeks. People who’d grown to care for her in return. “Nothing special. Just… spent a little time with some new friends.”

Zuko chuckled, and she had a feeling he knew exactly the people she was referring to. “I’m glad to hear it.” He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Don’t kill me, but…” She didn’t need to turn around to know he was smirking. “I told you they’d come around.”

Mai groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

“Make me?”

She sighed, turning around so she could properly face her boyfriend. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

(Mai made sure to silence him before he could answer.)

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Mind Games (Alec Volturi x Reader)

Everyone had warned you about the twins, the 'witch twins'. They were described as pure evil incarnate yet when you met them, their sadistic side was apparent, even their standoffish nature but nothing came across as pure evil. You were warned that they looked innocent but it was an act. Everyone you had ever known told you to stay away from them, no matter what they say or do. 

You tried to remember the advice, keeping it in the back of your mind as the two introduced themselves to you and even grew to befriend you. Still the advice rang in your head but you couldn't help but feel sorry for them. That perhaps they were a little misunderstood or just wanted someone. You couldn't explain how Alec drew you in. If anything he seemed to influence your friendship with Jane. Everyone had told you to stay away yet the twins were encouraging. They didn't recoil when you told them your gift as many did. 

You were honest, your gift made you do terrible things. It wasn't exactly enamoring. Perhaps that made you drawn to them more, outcasts meeting outcasts. They seemed to enjoy your ability and more specifically, the dark things you had done with it during your past. You weren’t proud of those times and they didn't lecture you or encourage you to do worse. Instead they accepted it, they had done some pretty wicked things and anyone who didn't was associated with someone who had. Seemingly that's just how it is in the vampire world. 

Somehow, the friendship naturally progressed to Alec wanted to stay behind to spend more time with you. It was always talking in the most secluded areas where no one would find you. The forest, against a particular large tree, moss acting as a seat. In fields and meadows where you both would be hidden sitting among the grass. The two of you would just roam, finding the perfect spot to sit and enjoy the moment. Neither of you brought up the progression of the friendship. It came natural when you both began to sit that little more closer than before. Lingering touches, like Alec running his finger along the side of your jaw absentmindedly. It was easy to be around Alec. You didn't always have to talk, explain yourself. He already knew. The atmosphere was intense but never uncomfortable. The world continued on but you and Alec were stuck in your own bubble. 

You turned your head and suddenly jerked back with yelp. Alec turned his own head quickly to you. "What did you do? I looked away for two seconds!" "That bit of grass went up my nose." You heaved, covering your face. "Wait... seriously?" Alec's eyes widened slightly. "Yeah. I literally moved into it." You replied, still cradling your nose. "Are you being dramatic? Surely you-" You cut Alec off. "No, trust me. It went straight up there. It went so far up my nose that I think it could reach some distant childhood memories." Alec couldn't help but laugh. "You're an idiot! Are you okay?" "Yeah, think so." You nodded, grabbing the specific blade of grass, tearing it from the roots and tossing it behind you. "Now I've had vengeance." Alec shook his head with an amused smile. "I can't believe you did that. Pay attention to your surroundings! What had you so distracted?" 

That was a tricky question, because you had been thinking about him at the time. However you couldn't tell him that. "I don't know." You shrugged, looking down at the ground. "That's a lie." Alec pointed out. You knew you couldn't lie to Alec, but it had been worth the try. "If I tell you, you can't freak out." You began. "That's concerning. Should I be worried?" Alec asked. "No, it's not bad but it's a secret. If I tell you, you can't freak out." Alec nodded in response. You stared at him momentarily, clearly very nervous. Quickly, you leaned in, meetings Alec's lips with your own. He stayed very still and you decided it was best if you pulled back. Although when you did, Alec immediately chased after your lips, this time kissing you. His hand moving to pull your face closer to him. 

That kiss remained a secret, although a happy one. Never to be mentioned around anyone else. Everyone told you to stay away from the twins, that they were dangerous. You probably should have listened. 

When another two men who were introduced as Felix and Demetri, met you in the place you were to meet the twins along with them, you knew something wasn't right. You grew nervous with the feeling as though you had just stepped into a trap. You took a step back, your unease written all over your face. "Calm down." Alec said as the two twins stepped closer. "We're friends, aren't we?" "Friends?" You repeated. "Yes." Alec smiled slightly. "Well, you and I may be a little closer than that." With a small smirk, Alec ran his fingers along his bottom lip. "We're friends." Jane continued. "We'd like to take you to meet more friends." Alec continued. Jane stopped but Alec took a larger step forward, his dark most surrounding you in seconds. You slumped forward, into Alec's shoulder. He hummed in amusement. "Well that was a little too easy for my liking." Felix chuckled. You had begun to slide of Alec's shoulder but before you could hit the ground Felix scooped you up. 

Your eyes snapped open, Alec's mist retracting. You sat up with a startled gasp. You looked around to see a room that was made of stone and marble. Before you sat three vampires. "Ah, young (Y/N), you're awake!" You quickly moved to your feet and in seconds you had the twins to your right, Demetri and Felix stood to your left. All four had their eyes latched on you for any sudden movements. The man in the middle descended the stairs to his throne with a gleam in his eyes. "Our sincerest apologies for not making your acquaintance sooner. I'm afraid we had other matters to attend to. Although I hear nothing but good things about you. Our dear Alec, told us so much about you." He stepped closer. "My name is Aro, behind me are my brothers, Marcus and Caius." Aro gestured to each as though this was a friendly introduction. You, however, were still in the mindset that you had been brought here against your will. That, you wouldn't forget so easily. 

Aro's hand locked onto yours. He hummed quietly in amusement. “There's so much in your mind. It branches out into others. I don't know where to begin. You see, my dear, your mind doesn't seem to work like others. People minds are so easy to read, their thoughts just come to me but for you, cara mia, it appears I must decide where to look." Your head snapped up. "Get out of my head!" You screamed. Your fingers wiggled free of Aro's. Your own fingers covering his in a tight grip that was painful. Suddenly Aro couldn't see in your head anymore. Aro gasped, a sharp pain coursing through his head. His own mind flashing before his eyes and that was when he had realised this was you. Almost like a filing cabinet, every thought he had ever had, every memory, you rifled through them all quickly. Each tiny detail became agonizing. Aro began to cry out in pain."Get out!" You didn't, only continuing to poke through his brain. He finally tore his hand free from your grasp, staggering back. Aro couldn't help but look at your hand. Your fingers wiggled slightly, resembling the motion he could imagine someone's fingers would make hunting through a filing cabinet. You glared at him. "Dungeons." Aro seethed. "Take them to the dungeons!" 

"Demetri..." Your voice echoed in his mind. "You track the mind. Cling to tenors of people, I see...so many people." Demetri clenched his jaw, slowing to a stop. "Get out of my head." "No." You said simply. Demetri silently cursed himself. He knew he shouldn't have touched you. Yet he did so without thinking and now you had tapped into his head. "That's so bizarre...it's like intangible ropes, pulling you towards everyone." "You're a parasite! Get out of my head!" Demetri seethed. You seemed to laugh at this. "You did it to yourself. You can't blame me for what goes on in your head. At the end of the day...I'm in the dungeons." Your voice lowered, becoming more forceful. "You put me here." 

Suddenly the corridor before him shifted. He couldn't explain it but before his eyes was a seemingly endless hallway with doors, that branched out into more corridors with doors. A maze that was on going. Mazes were never an issue for Demetri, he just had to follow the scent of who he was hunting and he'd find his way out on his own. However this seemed to not be the case this time. Demetri noticed that every direction, the pull of his gift sent him. He couldn't latch onto one particular person and the scents were so tangled that it seemed as though everyone was everywhere all at the same time, leaving no room untouched. Demetri then knew that you were messing with his head, his gift, just as you had done so to Aro. "A parasite, you say..." You mused. "...have you ever looked in the mirror and hated what looked back at you?" Demetri wasn't going to give you the pleasure of an answer, however you continued without skipping a beat. "I think I'm more of a reflection. Or more specifically, a reflection of your gift. I'm reflecting your gift that you press onto others, back onto you and now your poor little brain is all confused." Demetri could hear the pout in your voice and it only aggravated him more. 

Five hours had passed, you'd gone quiet quite some time ago. Almost immediately after mocking him. However, things were not back to normal. In fact, for the past five hours he's been roaming the halls. Doors led to more corridors and even more doors. There was no pattern, just a constant loop that even going backwards didn't seem to have any use. Since then, Demetri had lost all sense of direction and had no idea where he had started. Although to his surprise, when turning another corner, the scene had finally changed. He looked back seeing the same normal corridor he had looked at for all these hours but turning that corner lay ahead a different corridor and the very one he had been heading for. Whatever influence you had over his head, it was gone. 

Jane's visit was surprising and very rushed. She held up a bag of blood. Who really knew where she got that from but blood bags weren't as appetizing as from the vein. You were willing to bet she hadn't even heated it up. "Here. For you. I'm afraid I can only give you one, but it'll be enough to keep the thirst at bay." She put her hand through the bars, holding out the bag. You stared at her. "Hurry up or I'll drop it." Jane said coldly. This is probably the most loving you had ever seen her and is probably the best she's capable of being nice. You moved forward and took it from her. "Thanks and thanks for adding some attitude with it. It's great to see you too." Jane rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to sit and watch you complain." "Apparently you're not going to be my friend either." You shot back. "You're being ridiculous. I'm busy, I have a job to do. I can't coddle you until you come around. I am your friend and so take that as some friendly advice." "Coddle!?" You snapped incredulously. "You kidnapped me! Where was the coddling you speak of exactly!?" "Yes, we did. However this isn't a bad place to be and you aren't being tortured." Jane responded simply. "You can't be serious." You said in awe. "Jane, if I took you to the Cullen's against your will and told you that you should be happy because it isn't a bad place to be, would you be happy!?" "I don't have time for this." Jane insisted. "I could have just left you down here to starve but I didn't. I took time out of my day to make sure you're a little more comfortable. If you don't believe we're friends then that isn't my problem. That's yours. I've been nothing but honest the whole time." "Wow. Thank you so much Jane for putting me in this situation and keeping me comfortable." You responded with sarcasm. "Keep talking to me like that and i'll-" Jane began but you interrupted. "Or what? You'll put me in the dungeon? Oh wait." Your eyes narrowed on her with a cold gaze.  "Are you sure you want to test me, (Y/N)?" Jane asked. "Are you?" You responded. Jane didn't answer in words but the agony you quickly felt responded for her. Although you were just as quick to remember how to make the pain stop. You grabbed her arm before falling to the ground. She tore her arm away with a growl but the damage was already done. You looked into her eyes and suddenly you didn't feel the pain anymore, Jane on the other hand, let out a very loud scream, immediately collapsing to the ground. Somehow, she couldn't stop the pain, even when she immediately halted inflicting her gift. Yet the pain kept going. With bars separating you both, it was then you who stood over her. "Does that hurt?" You asked lightly as she continued to scream. "I hope that hurts." You said, eyes boring into Jane. "A lot." You added. 

Suddenly Alec came rushing down the stairs along with Felix, Demetri and Santiago. You released Jane and Alec wasted no time upon arrival rushing to his sister's side. You smiled at the guards before turning away to lie down on the stone bench. As soon as Alec was certain his twin was right he shot you a glare. "You know, you're glaring at me like this is my fault. Like I wasn't the one taken here against my will and threatened with torture." You turned your head, eyes meeting Alec's. "And you want me to believe I was ever your friend?" "We are your friends but we also have orders and our limits." "Only with everyone else, Alec. Neither of you were ever taught when to stop." Your smile vanishing. "You got your sister, now go away."

Aro, Caius and Marcus approached your cell quietly and you smiled sweetly. "Demetri said you'd be back. You did." Your smile vanished. "Good." You said with a lower tone of voice. "We've been trying to understand your gift. It's been quite a conundrum." Aro began. "Oh really?" You responded blankly. "Do you know what it is?" Caius asked. "No, but it's very good for self defense." You said flatly. "We have concluded that you mimic gifts after physical contact with them." Aro continued. "Therefore, you aren't a mind reader, you copied my gifts and used them against me." A flash of anger crossed Aro's face before returning to a stoic demeanor. "You should never look into someone's mind without permission." You agreed. "It's fascinating though isn't it?" "What is?" Aro responded. "People are like doors to us. One touch and we're in. Yours is very nice. It's consistent. You know what to expect. For me, I could be given anything. Vampires with abilities are much more interesting. Those without, it's just pure mind control. I confuse them all the time, they never know what they're actually seeing.", You cracked a smile. "I made one jump off a cliff for no reason. Although, Carlisle was helping me to be a better person. Anyway, that is irrelevant. The point is, you've gotten very comfortable opening doors. Now you're discovering that some doors should never be opened." You stared at Aro. "You should have never looked into my head because now I've looked in yours." You watched as Aro stiffened again, his eyes piercing through you with a deadly look. You stared back into his eyes. "It kills you to think of how much I discovered in the seconds I was in your head. Doesn't it?" Aro didn't respond and you continued. "You even know that if you tried to find out, I'd be back in your head again and I would only do the same as before." "Alec tells us that you've never been so hostile during his time with you." Aro says, moving the conversation before you could say anymore. "That happens when your kidnapped by someone who you thought was a friend. I'm more than aware this was the plan all along." "You could make this easier if you'd join us. You'd be very happy here." Aro responded.  "Easier for you." You corrected. "No thanks." "Then you'll remain here until you change your mind and you will, my dear. You will change your mind." You cracked an amused smile. "We'll see." 

To your surprise, Alec visited you alone. You remained silent. "You know I don't like you being down here." Alec admitted. "You're the one who put me here." You responded. "Felix and Demetri did actually." Alec shot back and you cracked an amused smile. "Whatever." "Would you forgive me?" Alec asked, joking long gone. "If I said I was sorry for our intentions, for ensuring you ended up here. Would you forgive me?" "That depends on what happens next." You responded quietly. "Forever is an awfully long time to be held captive." 

In seconds Alec curled his fingers around the bars, leaning in close. "Just... come up to the bars." Alec said. Slowly you sat in front of the bars, leaning forward slightly. "You shouldn't have brought me here." You told him simply. "My ability is addictive, you know that. I'll hurt people." "That doesn't change my mind about you. Just...don't do that to my sister again. You know-" "She started it." You interrupted. "I know...and I spoke to her." Alec responded. "I told her I didn't appreciate it. She didn't like it herself because she really had began to consider you a friend.We all have bad habits. You're just as quick to use your gift as Jane is to use her own." "You know if you let me out...if you were my friend, you would." Alec smiled sadly, raising a hand to your cheek. "I can't. Perhaps in a perfect world I could, but I'm not perfect, no one is and this world will never be perfect." You looked down in disappointment but didn't move away from his hand. He looked at you momentarily before using the grip he had on the side your face and pulling you towards the bars. He met your lips between the spaces of the bars with his own. In that moment, he had proven what his words could not. He knew the power he had given you with even the lightest of touches yet had given it anyway. A sign of complete trust. Alec broke the kiss. "I want you to stay. Just...think about that." He moved away, letting go. He sent you one last look before heading back upstairs, leaving you alone in the dungeons once more. 

 It wasn't often Alec spent some time alone. There was something about the leave and quiet, the silence enveloped him and put him at ease. He didn't think it would have been possible for someone with super hearing to ever have such a thing as silence. Yet everyone seemed to learn how to be silent, unnoticed. Every movement is graceful and quiet. Knowing you were several floors below him was comforting. In his eyes, the closer you were, the safer you were. Although he couldn't completely enjoy it. You didn't want to be there. Alec wasn't stupid, he knew you didn't just mean the dungeons and he wasn't going to pretend. You didn't want to be there, in the castle. It took you time to ever feel safe in an area. Volterra was so new that it was no surprise that you wanted to flee. Although Alec still hoped you'd stay. If you wanted to stay with him, it would make everything better. Aro wanted you and he'd never let you go. You were clever enough to figure that out. Although you were too stubborn to accept it. Alec lay back on his bed. He rarely used it much like the rest of the vampires in the castle. Although they could appreciate a soft place to land so they were always given if requested. Alec closed his eyes with a deep, unnecessary exhale. When his eyes opened, they widened. You loomed over Alec, smiling, like a predator that had caught it's prey. "Aren't you happy to see me?" "You're not supposed to be here. How did you-?" Alec moved to sit up but realised very quickly that he couldn't move and it wasn't your weight holding him down. He looked over at his hands as best as he could, they didn't even twitch. He looked back up at you startled. "Not a nice feeling is it? To not be able to move but, it could be worse. That's only one of your senses. You take away all five. However, you'll need the other ones. Well, maybe not your sense of smell." You asked. Alec's eyes as suddenly that was gone too. "You did this to me to bring me here and countless others. Are you scared? Like I was to wake up in an unknown place?" Your hands cradled Alec's head. "For what it's worth..." You softly pressed your lips to his in a brief, sweet kiss. You straightened up again. "Although that isn't what I intend to do. I want you to feel the fear I did, that I do." 

Suddenly a match was in your hand. Within a second it was lit. Alec's eyes widened even more in terror. His only fear, fire. You moved it towards his face. "Stop!" He said quickly. You only smiled, moving off of him to lay over him. Your back on his chest, legs in-between his and your head resting next to his on his pillow. You hushed him softly. "It's okay. This isn't real, remember?" Alec swallowed hard, doing his best to remember that. However it didn't make it any easier. "I'd never burn you. However this is the one thing that scares you." You began. "If you hurt me, I'll hurt you. You know that's how it works and these friends of yours have only hurt me. Including you and Jane." Your fingers suddenly curled around the open flame. "Don't!" Alec said quickly, waiting for a cry of pain or the smell of burning flesh- despite having no sense of smell. Although the cry never came. You squeezed your fist tightly around the match, as though suffocating it. When you loosened your hold, revealing the match. It was no longer lit and of any use. "I don't want to hurt you." Alec ground out. "So don't make me. Pull stunts like this and I'll have no choice." You moved off of him, instead rolling into his side. You moved his face to the side, making him look at you. "You said I wasn't evil, yet this place...you make me do evil things. I can do good with this power." Your face changed to one of sadness, looking into Alec's eyes. "I could have loved you once." You said quietly.  Without thinking Alec moved his hand to your face. You gasped and Alec seemed just as surprised since he couldn't feel anything else. Yet he had moved his hands. Before anything could be said, a weight was lifted from him, he could feel and smell everything and you were no longer in the room. 

 You looked down at your hands. Your time with Alec priced that you could use his gift against him. As long as you didn't let anyone else touch you, you could bide your time and escape. However when that time came, your plan didn't work out too well. 

It took three days but you decided that Felix -alone- was the best opportunity you'd get. Alec's gift worked momentarily but you had to touch Felix work it to work and the more contact meant the more Alec's gift trickled away from your control. Felix was frozen in place for only moments before Alec's gift faded away entirely. Like clockwork, Felix lunged. You knew you couldn't let him get his hands around your neck. If he did, it was over. You didn't know if Felix was gifted either, it had never been mentioned before but you knew this man was stronger than other vampires...including you. You caught Felix's arms, doing your best to push against him. Slowly he began overpowering you. Suddenly it stopped. It became apparent you seemed to find strength within yourself, a strength you didn't know you had. That was when you realised, whilst push back against Felix, the strength wasn't yours at all. It was his. Although it wouldn't be enough to push back. You couldn't let Felix catch on your realisation before it was too late. So with a spur of the moment decision that could have been very very stupid, you twisted his arms. 

You heard sickening cracks, Felix's arms twisting to the elbow in a very unnatural angle and became useless. You quickly tripped him to the ground. "So sorry about this. I just need some more time.” You slammed his head against the stone ground. Cracks forming along his face, neck and no doubt the back of his head- the impact point. You hurried up the stairs to be met with Afton, another guard you had met during your time here. You yelped in panic as you grabbed his hands instinctively and throwing him down the stairs of the dungeons. Before you took off running you heard his landing before Afton let out a startled. "Felix!?" You wanted to kick yourself. You hadn't intended on grabbing Afton's hands which meant Felix's strength was gone. As far as you knew, Afton didn't have a gift or anything that could help you. You had to create as much distance as you could with the dungeons and you had no doubt the Volturi was well aware of your escape by now. You weren't exactly quiet in your execution of the plan. 

You found yourself in a large hall of sorts, following the scent of fresh air but it was certainly a process given all the rooms. Within seconds you were grabbed, turned to face the one responsible before tackled to the ground. You realised it was Alec who had a tight grip on your arms. "Stop fighting us!" Alec hissed. "Y'know, what I was called a while ago?" You grinned, struggling against him. "A parasite. Although as far as I see it, nothing I do can get rid of you so who's the parasite now!" You growled as you tried to break Alec's grip that locked you in place but to no avail. "Stop it!" Alec responded. "No!" You snapped back. "You were always going to bring me here. Everyone was right about you. You lied to me. You pretended to be my friend. Hell, you even let me kiss you! I bet you enjoyed how much your little game worked didn't you!?" "Stop talking! You don't know anything! Yes I was sent to find out about you and eventually bring you back but I actually did grow attached." You struggled even more but Alec's grip only got tighter. "Damn it, (Y/N), stop fighting me!" Alec threw you to the ground before pinning you down. You screamed in frustration. Alec had much more experience in combat than you did and you despised how easy you had made it for him. You yelped as you felt his mist creep across your body. "No!" You screamed almost in panic. The last time this happened, you woke up in Italy, where all this began. Alec shushed you as your body went limp. Much like you had done to Alec before, he made sure you couldn't move but could talk, see, hear and smell. You were trapped in your own body. Fear rushed through you. 

Alec loomed over you. "Listen to me, (Y/N)." He said firmly to you. "You think I lied to you about how I feel but I didn't. You think I want to hurt you but I don't and you want to hate me but you don't. You know I will always protect you if you would just stop fighting. I need you to stop. I need you here with me." Suddenly the smallest whine escaped him with a word you never thought he'd say. "Please...please." You were quiet for a moment. "Maybe, if things were different it would be easier to say 'i love you', don't you think?" You asked. "You can't keep me." You whispered. Alec slowly shook his head. Denial. "You can't." You continued firmly. "I can't be a part of Aro's collection and you can't use my feelings to keep me here. I don't want to be a weapon. I want to be me. Don't you understand? My power can make me a terrible person and it's up to me to save you from that person." Alec slowly shook his head. "I won't let you." He said quietly. "I know." You whispered back. "I still have to try." Your brow furrowed as though lifting something heavy. A small whimper escaped you and Alec realised what you had done when the same numb feeling he had felt before and given to many others, travelled up his legs and into every bit of his body. In seconds, he couldn't move, whilst you gained feeling back. You rolled him off you gently. "Don't leave me." He mumbled out as best as he could. You said nothing. Instead moving to stand up before you began to walk away. "(Y/N), don't leave me!" 

 You hurried to maintain some distance again, not knowing how long Alec would stay like that whilst you weren't around. You panicked when you entered another room that was massive. A hallway that had large stone stairs that seemed lead to upstairs on either direction like a 'T'. "No..." You couldn't help but utter. This couldn't be the right way. However, you froze when you heard someone behind you. You turned and much to your horror, it wasn't one person but two. 

"We really should have kept Eleazar around. Perhaps then we could have found you years ago." Caius walked towards you, his eyes trained on you. Marcus looked behind him, his eyes also trained on you. "(Y/N)? That's your name isn't it?" Caius asked. You moved up a stair. "You really do have the wrong impression of us, truly. You see, we protect our kind from the human world. We must in these times. Humans have the technology to hurt us after all. We make sure there is justice and protection for our kind. That's all." Caius finished, just below the stairs. Never did he tear his gaze from you. 

Slowly he began to ascend the stairs, all the while you moved up more stairs to keep the separation. "Gifts like yours are very difficult to hide from us, rumours run like wildfires in our kind. Yet here you are. Only now in our sights. Tell us, little one. Where have you been hiding?" After a pause and your silence, Caius continued to ascend the stairs and you did the same. "We can make you an offer, one that is unheard of for our coven to give." "Lucky me." You mumbled, trying to keep as much distance as possible. Your comment, surprisingly, went ignored. "The Volturi do not give second chances but you, for your cooperation, we could make an exception. You'd have to keep that a secret. We cannot give such chances to just anyone." As he got closer, Caius put out his hands where you could see them but he could also use that same stance to attack you. It wasn't comforting. "We could help you with that gift. Help you with our way of life. You could live long and well. Our food comes to us, you wouldn't have to hunt." 

Marcus was suddenly at the bottom of the stairs and he then spoke up. "My gift senses relationships. I can see your relationship to Alec...and Jane. You don't have anyone else. You keep everyone out, but you want a family. You want people to depend on. We can be your family, we can be the ones you depend on." "You must be desperate to keep me here, to do this yourselves." You said, finally at the top of the stairs. "It'd be unfortunate to have to kill you." Caius responded. "You know my answer." You responded flatly. Caius' eyes narrowed on you, with a slight scowl. "Pity." Just before you could your hands around Caius' neck. He grabbed your arms and threw you down the steps. 

You looked up at him as he descended down the stairs, not even in a hurry. You turned quickly, noticing Marcus was only feet away. You hissed, no longer noticing your now dislocated shoulder that had broken your fall at an odd angle. Caius wrapped his hands around your neck, his knee pressing down painfully on your diaphragm. "Oh my, little one. It seems you only picked up my temper this time. Don't you know that I don't have a gift? Just thousand of years of experience." He smirked down at you as you heard more footsteps approaching. "I've got them." Caius said to whoever had entered. You couldn't move to see who it was. "Wonderful! Well done!" Aro's cheery voice rang out. That was one set of footsteps accounted for. "Let us fix that arm." Marcus bent down to your side and you tried to flail away from him but Caius grip only got tighter. 

Marcus took your arm, surprisingly gently before forcefully tugging your arm back. You tried to pull away from him again but couldn't move under Caius' weight. Once again Marcus tugged forcefully downwards on your arm and with a second popping sound, your arm was back in place.  "There, that must feel better." You could practically hear Aro's smile. Caius hauled you up. His grip on you still tight. It was Aro, Felix, Demetri, the twins and Chelsea. "Alec?" Aro turned to him with a nod. 

In seconds Alec was in front of you and Caius' grip had loosened. Alec pulled you into an embrace, much to your surprise and didn't let go. He continued to hold you to him as with another nod, Chelsea was beside you. She leaned in and began to whisper in your ear. You seemed to catch on what was happening as you gasped and tried to pull away from Alec. However he was stronger, holding you to him very much like he would a hug. Maybe it was. You didn't know. You felt yourself begin to relax into him as Chelsea continued to whisper. You squeezed your eyes shut, a small whimper escaped you as you realised you were losing. They were winning. 

She reassured you, making everything seem okay. Reminding you of your bond with Alec, telling you about how they could help you and would love to consider you one of their coven. You could feel your bonds being tampered with, solidifying bonds that hadn't even existed before. Suddenly you felt no bad feelings for the three leaders. Most of all, you wanted, no, needed to stay with Alec. Forever. 

In that moment, you knew you had lost. She pulled back. Nodding to Aro before stepping away. Alec leaned back to look at you, his eyes sad yet relieved. As though he was finally sure you were safe. He kissed your lips, then the corner of your mouth and then your cheek before moving back into the original embrace.

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Nine

“The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.”

-Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

Previous Chapters HERE

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

April 18th, 1963, 1:32pm

It’s a warm spring day, one of the first of the year, and ten year-old Tanya Elliot is thrilled to be done with class for the day.  

She steps out into the sunshine, forgoing her jacket and instead slinging it over her arm as she says her quick goodbyes to her five best friends.  None of them are headed to the same destination; Sherry’s mom picks her up in the parking lot, Marcy and Jana both take the bus, Kelly walks over to the high school to meet up with her brother, and Shannon walks home-- only in the opposite direction that Tanya does.  

With an agreement to meet up in their usual spot tomorrow morning before school (and Kelly’s promise to bring some extra sweets from her mother’s baking club), they set off on their separate ways.  Tanya shifts her backpack to her left shoulder, and begins her fifteen minute walk home.

She takes a big deep breath of the sweet smelling air, enjoying the way the sun feels against her face.  She wonders if maybe she could convince her parents to take a trip to the lake on Saturday; maybe she could work on her tan for a bit.  (And besides, she wouldn’t mind seeing Willard, the older boy who lives with his family in a gorgeous house right on the water.)

Tanya stops walking and is completely knocked out of her thoughts when something-- someone-- across the playground catches her attention.

It seems to be another little girl, definitely no older than Tanya herself.  Tanya finds her eyes fixated on the girl the moment she sees her. She’s beautiful, but she sticks out like a sore thumb because her clothing is not at all of this time period.

Tanya stops walking, eyeing the girl from afar. As completely out of place as she seems, she looks perfectly calm. She watches the other children, a slight smile on her face. No one seems to acknowledge her much, except for maybe a confused glance or a laugh at her appearance.  She brushes off the children’s snickers (as far as Tanya can tell, she doesn’t even react at all) and continues to scan the playground as if looking for something.

The girl seems to feel Tanya’s eyes, because her soft smile only grows in intensity before she turns her eyes to meet Tanya’s gaze.  It makes Tanya’s blood run cold, but it also piques her curiosity intensely.

At first, Tanya thinks she’s perhaps seeing a ghost; after all, she’s lived in this town all her life and never noticed this strange girl with the strange clothes. But at any rate, it doesn’t frighten her much, and when the young girl smiles at Tanya, Tanya thinks better of her original assumption.

Tanya glances down at her watch-- a gold watch that is much too big for her wrist-- to read the time: 2:32.  Her mother will be expecting her home in fifteen minutes, and will probably start to worry should she be but a minute later.

Still, Tanya can’t shake the feeling that this girl is important.  There’s something in her eyes that feels familiar and welcoming, and an overwhelming sense of magnetism radiating from her very being.  Tanya knows better than to talk to strangers, of course, but this isn’t a stranger; this is another little girl.  A friend, perhaps.

So she bites the bullet and makes her way across the wood-chip covered playground, without any regard as to whether the girl wants to speak to her as well.  

“Are you new?” Tanya asks as she approaches, by way of introduction.  

The girl smiles an all knowing smile, as if she’s been waiting for Tanya to ask  “I’m Violet.”

Tanya laughs at that.  “Neat.  That’s not what I asked, but neat.  I’m Tanya.”

“Hello Tanya.”  Violet remains weirdly comfortable throughout this entire interaction, as if she’s spoken to Tanya several times before this.  She nods towards her hand.  “I like your ring.”

“Thanks.”

“I’m not new, no.  I’m from the past.”

Tanya isn’t sure she’s heard Violet correctly the minute the words leave Violet’s mouth. She blinks, waiting for Violet’s face to change to reveal that she is, in fact, joking.  But her face never changes.  She remains stone faced and unmoving, and it takes Tanya aback.

After a charged yet awkward silence, Tanya speaks. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I—“

“No you did,” Violet cuts her off. “You heard correctly.”

Tanya blinks dumbly back at her new friend.  “I don’t…. understand…?”

Violet sighs, almost as if bothered to be explaining herself.  “I travelled through time to get here here.  From the past.”

Now, Tanya grows skeptical. She wonders if this is one of her friends playing a prank on her, and she glances around to see if anyone is watching her from afar and holding in their giggles. When she’s met only with complete normalcy, however, she turns back to her new friend.

“But how?” She asks. “How is that possible?”

Violet shrugs. “I don’t know. I just know that it is. Because here I am.”

Tanya, still skeptical, laughs in disbelief. “Alright” she says, “well then what year are you from?” She puts air quotations around the question, which only makes Violet laugh in a way that makes Tanya feel immature.

“I come from 1907,” Violet explains. “What year is this? 1967?”

“1963,” Tanya corrects. “But I’m sure you knew that.”  She rolls her eyes.  “Look, what’s the big idea? I know you’re trying to fool me, and it isn’t working.”

Violet shakes her head. “But I’m not, silly!” She says. “I’ve been working since I was small to learn how to time travel.  And I finally did it!”

“Wow,” Tanya deadpans, still completely unconvinced.  “How did you do it?”

Violet grins. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“To tell you the truth, Violet,” Tanya says, absentmindedly picking at the dirt under her nails, “I don’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” Violet giggles. “But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

Tanya glances nervously around the playground once again. She knows she’s already going to be late coming home anyway, so there’s no reason she shouldn’t stay here and talk to the odd girl. Still, she doesn’t want to push her own luck with her mother.

She shrugs. “Actually, I gotta get home,” she explains. “But if you wanna walk with me, you can.”

Violet smiles, looking more childlike than she has in their entire interaction. “Really? Gee, I’d love that!”

“Really?” Tanya smiles. “Alright. Follow me.”

The two girls fall into step, side by side, as Violet launches right into her story about time travel. This doesn’t seem to be a secret for her— in fact it seems about as common a topic as the weather for Violet— but Tanya grows slightly embarrassed at the volume of the other girl’s voice.

It’s all so strange really, how trusting Violet is of Tanya. Then again, Tanya could really say the same thing about herself.  She doesn’t know what it is about the peculiar girl that causes her to trust her so much, but at any rate she enjoys her company. (Even if her story is a bit odd.)

What Tanya hadn’t anticipated, of course, was the connection and friendship she would develop with this girl.   She hadn’t anticipated inviting the girl over for dinner that night, (and she hadn’t expected her mother to say yes).  She hadn’t anticipated spending all of her free time with Violet, laughing and playing together and becoming the best of friends. And she definitely hadn’t  anticipated that within the coming weeks, she would come to believe Violet’s story whole-heartedly, which would instill within her a deep fascination in the concept of time travel.

And more than anything, she hadn’t expected their goodbye to be so painful.

Violet had explained to her multiple times that this was the first time she’d done anything like this.  She had also explained that, although she would try, there was no guarantee she would be able to come back.  And although Tanya had listened and valued what her friend was saying, she hadn’t exactly believed her.  She had faith that her friend was going to come back.  She had faith they would be friends forever.

But when Violet disappears, on exactly the day that she’d said she would and without saying a proper goodbye to Tanya, Tanya grows desperate.

It’s why, in the years that follow, Tanya finds herself immersed in book after book, depicting time travel and its possibilities.   It’s why she reaches out, through any means necessary, trying to find some way to communicate with her friend from another time. Her friend, who quickly became a soulmate best friend, who understood her in ways many others did not.

It’s why Tanya finds herself grounded for a week the summer before 7th grade because she got in a fight with a boy at school who told her time travel was bogus.

It’s why she finds herself, on the night of her fifteenth birthday party, being relentlessly teased by her friends for still being interested in time travel.

And it’s why, on April 18th, 1975, she finds herself crying on her bed after another failed time travel attempt.

Her one year-old daughter Veronica sleeps peacefully in her crib as Tanya tries, to absolutely no avail, to travel back to her friend.  She wants to tell Violet all about her daughter.  She wants to tell Violet that, despite the literal years that separate them, she’s always considered Violet to be her baby’s godmother.   She isn’t even sure why she’s still so hung up on this whole ordeal, but in any case she’s desperate to find an answer, and to know if Violet is searching for one too.

Tanya glances out at the night sky, the skyline of New York—so hopeful and inspiring to some, but so suffocating to her— promising Violet that she will never give up.

She promises, out loud, that she will never stop trying to find her friend.  In every lifetime. In every timeline. She swears she will do her best to find her.

And with a discouraged heart that she tries to ignore, Tanya goes to bed; dreaming of a world far different than her own, in which times are simpler, and her best friend lives forever.

---------------

January 9th, 1925,  8:22am

It’s a quiet, somber morning in Harry’s apartment.  In the same fashion that they have for the past few mornings, Harry and Roni work side by side to prepare breakfast in the kitchen.  Only this time, it’s quiet. Nearly wordless. Their kisses are dry but lingering, and it makes them both feel guilty in a way that neither can explain.

Harry fights to suppress the urge to beg Roni, at least once or twice more, to stay with him; and Roni has to hold back the tears threatening to spill at any moment because she feels entirely too overwhelmed with questions.  What if she’s doing the wrong thing?  What if she chose to stay?  How would all of her loved ones back home manage to live? Or what if they didn’t,  and Roni’s decision killed them all off?  Would it be quick and painless for all her loved ones in her original timeline?  Would they just all together stop existing? Would anyone even remember them?

“I don’t like this,” Harry speaks up, drawing Roni from her thoughts as they sit wordlessly at the dining table.

“Hm?”  Roni doesn’t ask it because she didn’t hear what he said.  Rather, she asks as a way to fill the silence that follows his words.

“I don’t like that we’re just… not saying anything.  I don’t know.”

Roni sighs.  “I know,” she admits.  “It’s not how I wanted our last morning to go.”

Harry winces subtly at her words-- “our last morning,”-- and Roni wishes more than anything that she could take them back.  But she can’t.  There is no way around the inevitable any longer.

“I hate feeling like--”  Harry trails off, and Roni doesn’t push him to finish the sentence.

“Like we’ve run out of things we can say?” she offers after a moment, tracing the rim of her mug with her fingers.  “Me too.  It kills me.”

Harry gives her only a sad smile in response, which breaks Roni’s heart even further.  She wants to suggest pretending like everything is fine, of course, the same way she has every morning for the past week.  But she can’t.  Not anymore.  The decision has been made, and she can’t change her mind now.

Unless…

“Your food is going to get cold,” Harry chuckles, and Roni glances down at the room temperature piece of toast that’s been sitting in her hand for the past five minutes.  She laughs bitterly, and swallows the lump that refuses to go down in her throat.

“Sorry,” she says. “Kinda nauseous.  Not in a breakfast sort of mood.”

“Well you’ll have to eat something.”  Harry drums his fingers absentmindedly along the tabletop.  “Got a long journey ahead of you, y’know.”

He says it with a smile, but the words only cause the lump in Roni’s throat to grow ten sizes.  She knows he’s trying to be encouraging, but it hurts far, far too much.  She thinks that if the pain of overthinking doesn’t kill her, the suffocating feeling in her throat surely will.

Harry notices her facial expression, and his cheeks go red.  “Sorry.”

Roni’s face grows hot and her eyes go a bit foggy. She had told herself this morning that she wasn’t going to cry all day today, at least not until that evening as they were saying their final goodbyes. This vow, however, had come after a silent cry as she lay in bed watching her sleeping lover breathe softly with tousled curls and a sleepy pout on his face.  She could lay with him and watch him sleep like that forever.

So she giggles half-heartedly and unconvincingly, pulling away from his loving touch and fanning at her moist eyes with her hands. “Ah!” She groans. “Sorry. I wasn’t gonna cry until—“

“Hey, hey!” Harry leans earnestly across the table, reaching forward and placing his hand comfortingly on her back. “It’s okay, honey.  Listen, you’re okay.  It’s okay to cry.”

“This blows,” Roni says, her words accented by a bitter laugh. “I fucking hate this.”

Harry chuckles at her words. “As do I, honey. But it’s okay.” He scratches at her spine lightly, his voice softening as he repeats his words for emphasis. “It’s going to be okay.”

Roni looks at him, no longer trying to supress the single tear rolling down her cheek.  He offers her the sweetest smile in return, and she leans across the table to kiss it softly.  “Angel,” she says. “You’re a fucking angel.”

It makes Harry giggle, and he pulls away to stab gently at his scrambled eggs with his fork.

“Been thinking.”  He speaks a moment later around a mouthful.

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Think we should make tonight special.”

“Special,” Roni scoffs. “Not quite the word I’d use for it.”

“I know,” Harry chuckles, “but it might ease the blow a bit.”

Roni rests her elbows on the table, leaning in to listen to him. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Harry says, allowing himself a pause to swallow his food. “It’s going to be cold, so that might put a bit of a damper on the evening.”

“Because it was going to be such a lovely evening otherwise,” Roni says sarcastically, and Harry rolls his eyes at her cheekiness before continuing.  

“Was thinking we could build a fire. Pack some food, maybe some candles. Extra blankets. You can wear my coat that you like.”  His smile deepens. “You know. Just make tonight as pleasant as we can make it.  Maybe a bit romantic. Go out with a bang, so to speak.”

Roni hesitates, trying to fight the subtle smirk threatening to form on her face.  “Was that a play on words?”

“Hm?”

“You know.”  Roni shifts in her seat, enjoying the playful banter that’s briefly lightening the mood.  “A ‘bang.’  Like we’re gonna bang later.”

Harry laughs, an amused furrow in his brow.  “I don’t understand.  What does that mean?”

“You don’t use the term banging?  Like, for having sex?”

“Never heard of that, no.”  Harry grins.  “It’s catchy.  I like it.”

“Right?”  Roni raises her coffee mug to her lips.  “I figured that’s what you meant.”

“Do you want to-- eh-- bang? Tonight?”  Harry laughs at the phrase that feels so foreign in his own mouth, and it makes Roni giggle in spite of herself.

“I mean we don’t have to.  We might be too sad to bang.  We can see where the wind takes us.”

“The wind is going to take you right on back to 1999,”  Harry says sadly, although his smile still lingers on his cheeks.

Roni’s smile fades, and she feels her shoulders visibly sink.  “Well,” she says softly, “yeah.”

Harry chuckles. “Sorry. We’re talking in circles here, aren’t we?” He nods towards her plate. “Can I make you something else, darling?”

———————

The rest of the day feels like a strange dream, both dragging on and passing by in a blur. They make slow, quiet love on the couch, and they tease each other playfully when they both inevitably start crying.  When the sun begins its natural descent, they turn on some cheerful music to try and ease their anxiety, but it doesn’t help— reminding them instead of all the fun times they’ve had together.

Harry sighs after the third record they’ve put on doesn’t do the trick. “Can I play something else?” He asks, quietly but hopefully. “It’s gonna be a bit sad, but… you know.”

Roni shrugs. “Shoot,” she offers. “Not like you can bring the mood today down any further.”

Harry chuckles. “Well…” he says, then trails off. He gives Roni’s knee a gentle squeeze before rising to his feet, padding barefoot across the carpet to switch songs.

In such a simple act, Roni finds herself particularly overwhelmed with emotion. She watches him, eyes trailing the spanse of his broad back, admiring the way his trousers cling to his pert backside and the way he stands, legs apart and with most of his weight on his right side. She wonders if he’s aware that he stands like that.

In all of her twenty-six years of living, she’s never fallen so deeply in love with the tiniest characteristics of a person before. Not until Harry. She notices everything about him, and finds every bit of it endearing— (even the way he snores in his sleep so loudly it wakes her up).  These specific moments of quiet admiration hold as much weight and value in her memory as those instances of passionate love making or deep belly laughter or falling asleep in one another’s arms. It’s all so deliciously him—them— and she can’t seem to fathom continuing on in a world without him.

When the music begins, Roni’s throat feels like it’s closing in around itself.  She recognizes the song instantly— it’s one he’d played for her back when she’d first gotten here. It sounds different this time, and it doesn’t take Roni long to realize that this isn’t the instrumental version she’d first heard. This time, it’s the version with lyrics; lyrics that hold a much deeper value in her heart than the first time Harry had whispered them in her ear.  Roni looks at Harry, helpless, as the opening notes begin playing.

Gone is the romance that was so divine

‘Tis broken and cannot be mended

Harry joins in, stepping gently towards Roni with a sympathetic, yet understanding smile.  “You must go your way, and I must go mine, but now that our love dream has ended…”  Harry trails off, his eyes growing misty (though he fights hard to suppress it.  “Fitting, innit?”

“Oh Harry,” Roni sighs. She rises to her feet, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her into him. They sway gently, in what could hardly be considered a waltz, and Roni tries desperately to push the anxiety in her throat down.  She rests her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent by his neck.  He holds her like he’ll never let her go.

“Remember the first time we did this?” Harry asks quietly.

“How could I forget?” Roni laughs.  “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Harry rests his cheek lightly on Roni’s head.  “It does, doesn’t it?”

They continue to sway, hardly exchanging any words, and Roni doesn’t even realize that she’s crying (again) until she pulls away to look up at Harry and notices her tear stains against his shirt.  He’s trying not to cry as well; Roni can tell by the way he refuses to look anywhere but at one spot on the wall. But when Roni kisses the corner of his chin, he softens with a chuckle, shaking his head as if he can’t believe their luck.

“I’m already missing you, bunny.”

Roni sniffs, nuzzling her face back into Harry’s chest. “I’m missing you more than you know.”

Not another word is spoken, and even after the song ends, they stand together in silence.  They’re hardly swaying any longer at this point— mostly they’re just holding one another while they still can.  After about five minutes, Harry audibly swallows.

“We should probably get going. It’ll be dark soon.”

His words make Roni nauseous, knowing that her time left in this humble apartment is limited now to only minutes. She stops swaying, and Harry makes no effort to let go of her. He sighs, scratching tenderly at her back. “I know,” he whispers, “I hate it, too.”

Roni tries her best to keep a brave face. “Trying to get rid of me that quick are you?” she teases. She’s delighted when she hears a genuine laugh bubble out from Harry’s mouth.

“Oh honey,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Never, never. Never in a million years.”

They remain still, holding one another in their embrace until they both become painfully aware that they really do need to get going.  The process of untangling themselves from one another’s arms takes much longer than necessary, and even as they let go they immediately interlace their fingers.

“I don’t have anything to pack,” Roni admits. “You can keep my party dress from when I got here. It’s too cold for me to put it on and sit on the beach tonight. And as for the ones you bought me—“ She trails off, glancing down at the skirt of the pretty dress she’s wearing right now. “Well, you can keep those, too. Not sure how much use I’ll have for them in the year 2000.”

“You never know,” Harry jokes, trying to keep things light hearted. “Maybe there’ll be a costume party or something--”

Roni giggles, shaking her head and wiping her eyes. “Harry.”

He smiles, leaning forward and kissing her nose.  “I’ll pack up some snacks and a few other things we might need.  A blanket maybe.  You get your stones and such.  And,” a crooked smile tugs on his cheek,  “that coat you like.”

Roni grins, in spite of herself.  “Can I wear your cap?”

“Do you want to wear my cap?”

“I want any piece of you on me that I can possibly get.”

Harry chuckles, and for a moment everything feels completely normal.  “Cheeky,” he mutters, pinching her butt before turning to busy himself in the kitchen.

Roni watches him for a bit, and although he’s aware of it he doesn’t make some cheeky, embarrassed little remark requesting her to stop.  She watches the way he moves around the kitchen that she’s grown so familiar with.  The kitchen, so beyond tiny and cozy, connecting to the living room that has come to smell like home.

The memories they have made in this humble living room in such a short amount of time begin playing like a film in Roni’s mind.  Dancing together, cooking, making lol, building puzzles; the most mundane things made to be so magical because they were done together.

Roni smiles to herself at the memory of how unpleasantly she’d treated Harry in the beginning. She feels bad, of course, but it’s humorous to think about now  because she was so lost at the time.

“I’m still here!”  Roni exclaims, infuriated that Harry doesn’t seem as shocked about this as she does.

“You are.”  Harry nods, the scrambled eggs in the frying pan sizzling under the spatula.  “Did you sleep well?”

“Harry, holy fuck, how is this happening?”  Roni doesn’t dare move, as if moving is going to trap her even further.  She feels like the walls are closing in on her as the full extent of the situation hits her.  She hadn’t allowed herself to fully feel these feelings the night before, because she hadn’t seen this as a permanent issue.  But now here she is, in a year that doesn’t even feel real, with a bastard who doesn’t even seem to care about her concerns.  

Harry smiles to himself.  “I don’t know, pet.  Honestly, I was kind of thinking that maybe you were drunk and just forgot where you were last night.”

“I wasn’t drunk, and I didn’t forget, but thank you for completely invalidating me.”  Roni huffs. Stomping across the living room and plopping down onto the most uncomfortable couch she’s ever felt in her life, she figures this is an appropriate time to just pout– especially considering that Harry isn’t going to give into her panicking.  “What the fuck am I supposed to do now?”  She props her elbows on her knees and buries her head in her hands.

“Eat some breakfast and relax,” Harry answers.  “We’ll figure this out. Would you like some tea?”

Roni smiles at the memory of her first morning here, feeling overwhelmed by the complete 180 her heart has done.  At the time, she’d wanted nothing more than to go home, and she hadn’t believed Harry when he’d said they would figure it out.   Now that they have, she wants nothing more than to stay here.

She makes her way into Harry’s tiny bedroom, the film of her memories continuing to roll through her mind. She had found this place so odd, so minimalistic, and she’d thought Harry was a nutjob for giving up his bed for her.  She remembers helping him place the fitted sheets along the mattress, and she remembers waking up early and watching people through the small window.  

Her cheeks grow hot, however, as the memory of the first time they made love in this bed plays in her head.

“Don’t do this… unless you mean it.”

Roni sees the earnestness in his eyes, and she’s never been more sure of anything in her life. She brushes the tip of her nose against his before licking her lips and pulling him in for another kiss. This kiss isn’t as elaborate as it had been moments ago, but it’s sweet, and she feels all the tension in his shoulders release.

When she pulls away, she smiles, reaching up to brush a wild strand of hair off of his forehead.  She nods her head.

“I mean it.”

She chuckles, running her hand along the thin duvet of the bed and making her way to the small closet.  She has to say one final goodbye to her dresses-- the ones that Harry had used his last dollars to purchase for her. The ones that had felt so funny and so foreign on her the first time she’d worn them.  

They hang, untouched and cold, among the few dressier shirts that Harry owns, and Roni’s heart clenches at the thought of them hanging here forevermore.  She thinks perhaps Harry should give them away, maybe to Daisy— although come to think of it, these may be far too dull for Daisy taste.  Maybe Harry could sell them, make a bit of extra cash.  Or maybe—

“Veronica.”

Harry’s voice from the doorway startles her out of her thoughts, and she whirls around on her heel with a jump.  She hadn’t realized she was crying again (although the ache behind her eyes should have been a dead giveaway), and Harry notices her tears immediately.  He doesn’t go to her, he only nods sympathetically when she laughs and gives him a shrug in surrender, as if to admit “yeah, I’m crying again, so what.”

“You alright, darling?”

She takes a slow deep breath in, savoring the smell of his little place that she’s fallen so deeply in love with, and examining it one last time before nodding and turning back to him. “I’m alright,” she says with finality. “Let’s do this.”

---------------

The beach is freezing, because of course it is, and Roni and Harry shiver as they set up their blanket on the shore.  Roni reminds Harry several times that he didn’t have to do all this— he didn’t even have to come with her if he didn’t want to— but he is having none of it.

Roni shivers, wearing Harry’s heavier coat and his little cap that she’s grown so fond of, and her breath comes out in a visible puff of air.

“Can you set up the snacks and the stones and such?” Harry asks. “It’s too bloody cold for me to wait any longer on starting the fire.”

Roni nods, the thought of the warm fire cheering her up. She reaches into the picnic basket and begins sorting through the various snacks they’ve decided to bring.  

Harry really had thought of everything, just to add a bit of a sense of normalcy to this whole ordeal.  He’d packed some leftover cold pasta salad  that they’d had from the night before, along with a bottle of chocolate milk for them to share.  It was adorable watching him pack, especially when he got so excited about bringing items to make “these new treats called S’mores! They’re delicious, bunny, you’ll love them!” (Roni of course hadn’t had the heart to tell him that she was more than familiar with s’mores; not when he looked so cute explaining them to her.)

He had offered to bring candles as well, but ultimately had decided against it when he realized it was a bit windy, and starting a fire was going to be difficult enough.

As if on cue, he curses under his breath, causing Roni to giggle and offer him help; which he, of course, immediately turns down. So Roni let’s him do his thing, setting up all of the various items from the picnic basket and trying not to dwell on the finality of the entire situation.

It’s about fifteen minutes later when Harry finally has a solid fire going.  They eat together, chatting casually about the weather and occasionally bringing up a few of their favorite memories over the past few weeks they’ve shared.  It feels strange, when they really think about it, that their time together hasn’t actually been all that long.  Both agree, albeit somewhat glumly due to the circumstances, that that’s what happens when you meet your twin flame.  It happens, fast and quick and colorful, and then either softens into a comfortable glow or explodes into a million pieces, leaving the flames lost until the next lifetime in which they find each other.  

Neither Roni nor Harry are quite sure where exactly on that scale their situation falls.

After their meal, they work together to clean up the leftover food, shivering and subconsciously moving their bodies closer to the fire.  Roni scowls realizing how little either of them ate, and she sighs, looking out onto the dark, cold ocean.

“This feels like… like the last supper. You know like, in the Bible.”  Roni scowls.  “And I’m the one that’s about to betray you.”

Harry chuckles.  “You’re not betraying me.”

“Well that’s what it feels like.”

“Well, don’t think of it like that,” Harry says softly.  “Think of it like a romantic picnic between two lovers.  I mean, that’s sort of what it is, isn’t it?”

His smile breaks Roni’s heart, but she giggles in spite of herself.  “I suppose,” she says, her own words tasting like bile in her mouth.   Speaking at all right now feels wrong and completely foreign, and the sense of guilt that lingers in her stomach has only intensified tenfold since this morning.  She knows Harry is fully aware of the situation, and that he is prepared for what is about to happen; yet she still can’t shake the feeling that somehow she’s about to betray him.  It’s like she’s looking in the face of an innocent puppy that she’s about to completely abandon-- shivering and helpless.

With that thought comes the terrible imagery of Harry packing all of this up once she’s gone.  Harry-- alone and cold-- folding up the picnic blanket and the leftover food, walking soberly back to his apartment to sleep in his bed alone.  The thought of him tracing the dent made by her head left on his pillow (since neither of them had bothered to make the bed this morning), or him smelling her dresses hanging in his closet, never to be worn again-- it’s all too much for Roni to bear.  She lets out a long huffing sigh, accompanied by a gentle “for fuck’s sake.”

Harry barely looks up at her as he continues to set up all of the various snacks.  “Hm?” he asks.

“Harry--” Roni’s voice is abrupt.  “Am I… doing the right thing?”

Now, Harry does stop.  He looks up at her from under his lashes slowly, as if waiting for her to say something else.  He doesn’t press her, he only looks at her, and it makes her groan.

“You know,” she tries again,  “Like… should I just stay?  I don’t want to erase the people that I love from back home… and I definitely don’t want to erase my mom, but I can’t--”  She breaks off, tears beginning to well in her eyes,  “I can’t lose you.”

Harry’s voice is calm when he speaks.  “Do you think you’re doing the right thing?”

“That’s why I’m asking you!” Roni wails, reaching up to wipe at her eyes.

“Well, bunny,”  Harry stokes the fire a bit more, the embers dancing against the darkening sky,  “You know I can’t make that decision for you.”

“Harry,” Roni sighs in frustration.

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” he says slowly, a gentle but sad smile tugging on the corners of his lips, “because I don’t know what you want to hear.  I don’t think you do either.”

Roni wipes at her eyes once again, only to realize that it’s in vain. The tears are thick, and are beginning to flow freely down her cheeks.   Harry watches her sadly, unsure of whether or not he should move.

On the one hand, he wants to go to her.  He wants to take her in his arms, kiss away her tears, beg her to stay; to be his forever.  But on the other hand, he knows that what his beloved Veronica needs the most right now is someone to be strong for her.  And how can he do that when he’s hurting just as much?  How can he hold her in his arms and be strong for her if he knows that the minute he feels her shuddering sob into his chest, he’ll break down as well?

So he stays put, frozen in place focusing his eyes intensely on one spot of the fire. There is nothing more for him to do right now.

The sound of the ocean mixed with the crackling of the fire would be such a beautiful backdrop for a romantic evening together on any other occasion.  But given the circumstances, neither Harry nor Roni are feeling very romantic at present.   Roni shivers, wrapping the coat tighter around her shoulders as a bitter ocean breeze rips through her.

“I can’t lose you,” Roni repeats quietly.

“You won’t,” Harry answers. “I’ll never forget you as long as I live.”  When Roni doesn’t say anything, Harry scoots just a titch closer to her. “Veronica,” he says slowly. “I will never stop trying to find you. Until the day I die, I will try. I will look for you in every corner of the earth. In every lifetime. In every timeline.  I will do my best to find a way to find you. I will never, ever give up.”

Roni sniffs, reaching up to wipe at her runny nose. “And what if you can’t find me?”

Harry swallows audibly. “Well,” he says slowly. “Then.  I’ll wait for you in the sky.”

Roni’s throat swells, and she blinks back a few more tears, licking away the salty remnants that remain on her lips.  “I want you to find me.”

“I’ll find you,” Harry reassures her.  “One way or another.  I will find you.”

Roni blinks at Harry, so many words hanging on the tip of her tongue but no actual voice with which to speak them; especially because she doesn’t even know where she would begin.  She lets out all of the breath in her chest, reaching forward and taking his hand in hers.  “I love you, Harry Styles.”

He smiles, giving her hand a squeeze and running his thumb along the back.  “I love you too, Veronica Elliot.”

After a brief moment, Roni leans across the way to press a few short pecks to Harry’s lips. When she pulls away, she sighs.  “I don’t want to think about it anymore,” she says, “but I’m not sure there’s much else to focus on.”

“Tell me about your father,” Harry offers.

The proposition takes Roni by surprise, and she furrows her eyebrows at Harry. “Forreal?”

“Yeah. Heard all about your mum. Heard nothing about your father.”

Roni blows out a puff of air, wondering where she should start before giving up and shrugging. “Not much to tell.”

“You mentioned he left when you were young,” Harry prompts, “but do you remember him at all?”

Roni shakes her head. “Not at all. He was gone before I was even aware that I existed.”  She laughs. “From what I’m told though, he was awful. My grandma never wanted my mom to be with him.  But she was… I mean, you know, she was young. And no one really listens to their parents when they’re young. Not that young at least. She thought she was in love.”

“And him?”

Roni shrugs. “He thought she was easy.  Knocked her up and poof. Gone.”

Harry furrows his eyebrows. “Knocked her up?”

“Got her pregnant,” Roni giggles. “Nine months later he was gone but—“ she throws her arms up, a sort of ‘tah-dah’ movement, “— the real party arrived.”

Harry laughs, nodding his head. “Absolutely. The world’s biggest blessing came along. I’ll bet he’s sorry he missed it.”

“I doubt it,” Roni says, scrunching her toes into the sand. “Bet he hasn’t even spared a thought for my mom and I.”

Harry says nothing for a moment, only staring deep in thought at the fire and processing Roni’s story.  The fire feels warm on his face, and it makes him a bit sleepy.  He breathes in, low and slow through his nose before speaking again. “Shame.”  He smiles up at Roni, admiring the way the glow of the fire hits her skin.  “Can’t imagine doing something like that.  As a man.  As a father.”

Roni shrugs.  “I can’t either.  But, you know, it happens.  I guess.”

“It shouldn’t.”  Harry shakes his head.  “I wouldn’t let it happen.”

“You think you would ever get married?”  Roni doesn’t exactly realize the weight of her question until it’s slipped past her lips, and she almost regrets asking it.  Harry hardly reacts, save for the flash of his dimple that Roni has grown to love so much.  He averts his gaze, really giving some thought to his answer, then after a moment, he nods.

“Maybe. But at this point, m’not sure it’s really in the cards for me.”

Roni leans forward, genuine concern etched into her features.  “Why not?”

Now he looks back at her from under his lashes.  “You really want to know?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

He smiles sadly. “Because the woman I love is leaving me to go back to her home that’s seventy-five years in the future.”

Harry’s words hit her like a ton of bricks. Not that she was really expecting another answer, of course, but god. “Harry—”

“It’s alright though. It’s the way things have to be, you know? I wouldn’t change us. I wouldn’t change what we’ve been through.” He shrugs. “I’d change the circumstances, sure.  But I’d take a thousand lifetimes of this over never meeting you. So I have to take that for what it is, don’t I?”

In any other situation, Roni would be fully aware that she’s moving far too quickly. But seeing as her time left with Harry is reduced down to merely a few more hours, she doesn’t care.  “I’d marry you in a heartbeat, Harry.”

His face brightens ever so slightly. “Yeah?”

Roni nods earnestly. “In a heartbeat.”

Harry squeezes her hand softly. “Perhaps in another life.”

“And for what it’s worth--”  Roni chews anxiously on her cheek,  then quiets her voice.  “I know my mom would have loved you.  You don’t know her, so that might not mean much to you, but  it’s true.  You’d have her blessing before you could even ask her for it.”

“That means a lot to me.” Harry’s thumb strokes absentmindedly along the back of Roni’s hand.  “I would’ve loved to meet her.”

Yet another long silence falls between the two of them, and Roni shivers when a particularly chilly ocean breeze passes through them.  The movement doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, and he smiles gently.  “You cold?”  When Roni nods, he immediately scoots over a bit.  “Yeah?  C’mere.”

Roni wastes no time in complying with his request, crawling over to him and making herself comfortable in his lap.  He wraps his arms around her, rubbing up and down her arms and kissing softly at her cheeks. “Better?”

Roni lays her head on Harry’s shoulder, letting her eyes de-focus on the ocean. She doesn’t answer him verbally, electing only to nod and just enjoy his warmth.  

There are a few minutes of silence between the two lovers, and each time Roni catches sight of the full moon, hanging bright and threatening over their heads, her stomach twists.

“Have I mentioned how badly I’m going to miss you?” Harry chuckles.

Roni can’t help but to giggle. Her eyes burn at the mere thought of more tears falling, but at this point she knows that not much can be done to stop them.  “No, I don’t think you have,” she teases.  

She tilts her head to kiss at his neck, sucking gently but with completely innocent intentions— until he shivers slightly, his breath audibly hitching.

Roni takes the nonverbal cue, trailing her lips gently and softly up his neck, and taking his earlobe in between her teeth.  Harry groans, low in his throat.

“Bunny,” Harry says gently, “you don’t have to. If you don’t want to—“

“Who said I didn’t want to?” She peeks her tongue out from between her lips, rolling it just under this ear now. “Do you want to?”

He doesn’t answer her, he only hums, tilting his head to grant her easier access.

“One more,” she mumbles, angling her body so that she’s facing him more. “Please. Can’t leave you without a proper goodbye.”

Harry, once again, says nothing. He takes her hips in his hands and pulls her further onto his lap, angling her so that she’s straddling him now.  He grins up at her, the ocean breeze whipping his curls over his eyes. “God,” he sighs, leaning up to kiss at her neck, “I love you.”

Roni hums, basking in the attention he’s giving her neck and beginning a gentle roll of her hips against his.  She turns her head to catch his lips with her own, smiling against the taste of him she loves so much.  As he parts his lips, tracing her own with his tongue, it feels different than all the times before.  He’s kissing her the exact way she likes, but it’s sad now.   Slow, as if he’s taking his time in order to remember every single detail about her lips.

There’s a wordless conversation occuring between the two of them as they lick, slow and gentle, into one another’s mouths. Roni reaches up to cup at Harry’s cheek, mindful of her cold fingertips and giggling to herself when Harry shivers at her touch.  He hums, leaning further into her kiss and holding her lower back tenderly in his own.

They stay like this, just kissing and enjoying one another’s warmth, before Harry’s hands begin trailing up her back.  He teases his fingertips along her neck, playing with her hair before lifting the cap gently from her head.  He allows it to plop down ungracefully in the sand before guiding his hand up fully into her hair.

She can feel his fingers curling around the hair at the base of her neck before he tugs a bit, successfully pulling her head back.  She moans when he attaches his lips to her pulse in her throat.

It’s sexy, yes, but he takes his time with it, inhaling her scent as he kisses up her supple skin.  Her lashes flutter and she catches a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye; eyes closed, brows furrowed in concentration, as if he wants absolutely nothing to draw his attention away from Roni’s entire being.

Harry is more lost in his thoughts than he intends to be, but he can’t help it.  He’s wanting to remember everything about Roni, her taste, her smell, every curve of her jaw and her chest.  His hand scratches lovingly down her back before trailing along her sensitive sides and up to her breasts-- so tightly concealed beneath her many layers of warmth, but still so pert and delicious.

“Veronica,” he moans, low in his throat and more of sadness than of pleasure, “I love—“

“Don’t,” Roni says, her eyes burning with moisture. She lowers her head, touching her nose to his in an attempt to raise his face. “Don’t do that. Not right now.”  She lets out a shuddering breath, trying to refrain from breaking down. “Please, I can’t—“

“I love you.” He is insistent, wanting her to be sure that his words are true. “I fucking love you.”

“Please,” Roni cries, her voice cracking. “I can’t—“

“We have to—“

“I know but—“

“I fucking love you.”

It’s back and forth for the next few minutes, lips ghosting one another’s and noses brushing— as if breathing one another in and out, as if trying to exist as one person. Roni feels the dampness pooling between her legs, and with every roll of her hips she can feel Harry hardening.

All too soon it becomes  quick and hurried, even a bit sloppy, as Roni slips her panties down her legs and Harry works to get himself unbuttoned.  It’s far too cold to fully undress themselves, they’re both aware of this, but they can’t seem to move quickly enough.  She straddles his cock, and they move so quickly he misses her hole the first time.  She giggles, but it’s cut short when Harry attaches his lips to her neck and sucks, guiding himself inside of her gently.

“Fuck, always so tight,” he moans immediately, “holy fuck.”

They take a moment for Roni to adjust before she sinks further down, letting out a sinful moan that echoes one of Harry’s.  On any other occasion, the two would be far more mindful of their sounds, considering the fact that they’re in public.  But right now it doesn’t matter, especially with the way that Harry sinks his teeth into Roni’s neck, and the way she rolls her hips against his.

Roni gasps when he hits the spongy spot deep inside of her.  Her head tilts back as she lets out one of the most pornographic moans she’s ever made. Harry takes this opportunity and hooks his fingers into the neckline of her dress, pulling it down and attaching his lips to the swell of her left breast. He sucks until his teeth meet her skin, and then he bites, causing her to let out a little cry.  He’s marking her, and she loves it.

“Harry—“ she breathes, fingers frantically pulling at his hair.

He nips at the red little mark he’s left behind, then licks at it gently to soothe the sting.  She hums, tugging at the curls on the base of his neck and shuddering, partly due to the wind and partly due to a particularly delicious thrust.

Lowering her head to rest on Harry’s shoulder, she inhales his scent, shifting her weight a bit so as to not get so easily tired out by her work. He wraps his arms impossibly tighter around her lower back, seemingly trying to get her closer to his body, and Roni groans, loudly, sinking her teeth gently into his shoulder.

She almost misses it when he lets out a soft cry.

In fact, at first she thinks she’s imagining it.  But when the movement of his hips slows, and his breathing becomes more ragged than it was before, she stops moving and pulls away to look at his face.

Harry’s eyes are shut, and in the dim firelight she can make out the dampness of his cheeks.  His lips are curled into a frown, and he shakes his head the minute he realizes that Roni has noticed.  She stops the rolling of her hips and reaches for his face, cupping his cheek in her hand.

He’s sobbing, and he can’t even stop himself.

“Harry,” she says quietly, “Don’t--”

“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.  “Fuck, I’m sorry, Veronica.”

Now, Roni feels tears well up in her own eyes as she strokes her thumb along Harry’s cheekbone.  “Don’t apologize,”’ she says through a whisper.    He doesn’t even hear her as he lets out another quiet sob before speaking again.

“I love you.  So so so much.  I don’t know if I can do this.”

Roni doesn’t even try to stop her own tears from falling now, and she squirms a bit with Harry still inside of her.  “Do what?” she whispers.

Harry shakes his head, still not looking in her eyes.  “Live without you.  I’m not strong enough to lose you.”

“Harry,” Roni cries, using her hand to lift Harry’s face and forcing him to look at her.  “We don’t have a choice.”

He lets out a shaky breath, trying to stabilize his chest.  “How can I go on when the person I love more than life isn’t isn’t with me anymore?”

Roni scans his face, feeling at a complete loss for words for the first time this evening. She shakes her head.  “I don’t know,” she says through a sob.  “But we’re going to have to figure it out.”

“Jesus.”   Harry wipes at his eyes again, pulling Roni into him and pressing a few wet kisses to her neck.  He lingers for a moment with his lips to her skin, and Roni can physically feel her heart breaking in half.  

“I didn’t think this was going to be so unbearable,” Harry whispers.  “I knew it would be hard but… fuck.”

“Look at me,” Roni says, pulling away and trying to gently guide Harry’s face up again.  She offers him the most reassuring smile she can muster, but somehow it doesn’t help.  “It’s going to be okay.  Hm?  We’re going to be okay.”

Roni cups his cheek yet again, and Harry leans into her affectionate touch with closed eyes.  She watches him, a lump in her throat so large she’s feeling nauseous, and the reality of their situation hitting her for the hundredth time this evening.

“We’re going to be okay,” she repeats. “You have to promise me you’ll keep going.  Keep trying. Live your life.  And maybe… in another lifetime--”

Harry cuts her off then with a kiss, passionate and gentle all at once.  He allows his hands to trail down her back.  He grips her hips tightly, rolling her against him and groaning low in his throat at the feeling of her walls still around his prick.

She gasps, not at all expecting to feel him as deep as she does, and they share sloppy, hurried kisses as they finish what they’d started.

It’s messy and slow, but it’s deep.  They’re both crying as they move together, lips hungrily exploring whatever area of skin they can get to. Roni bites down somewhere on Harry’s neck and he hisses, knowing he’s going to have an ugly mark there when morning comes.  Harry grips Roni’s hips so tightly they begin to ache, and yet she still finds herself wishing he would hold her tighter.

Minutes later, Harry cums.  Roni doesn’t, but she doesn’t care.  She doesn’t much feel like an orgasm right now, as strange and as out of character as that seems to her; rather, she just wants to stay like this, with the most intimate part of him tucked into the deepest, most private part of her body.  She buries her face in his neck, and he wraps his arms impossibly tighter around her torso.

No words are spoken between the two lovers.  No words are necessary, really.  They just hold one another, the sound of the crashing waves mirroring their own inner turmoil as they hold one another and cry-- unabashedly and unfiltered.  

It feels good, in a strange therapeutic sort of way, to be like this.  To be crying this hard together, completely vulnerable both physically and emotionally, and as hard as it is to grasp that these are their last memories together, it lifts the tiniest bit of weight off of both of their hearts.

They aren’t sure how long they’ve been sitting like this when Roni finally makes an effort to move, her sobs quieted now to a few little gasps here and there.  Harry instantly misses her warmth the second she lifts off of him, and he reaches for her hand like a little boy.

Roni smiles sadly at him, giggling and offering him a pathetic shrug as if to say, “well, anyway.” She gives his hand a squeeze, running her thumb along the back of it.  Her chest flutters as she takes a breath.  

“You promise to try and find me?”  She doesn’t anticipate her voice coming out as hoarse and as sad as it does.

Harry hates how final this feels, and he shivers-- partly from the cold, but mostly because his body is exhausted from how hard he’s been weeping and how devastated he’s been all day.  Seeing Roni like this, looking at him as if he’s her only hope in the world right now, absolutely crushes him.

Truth be told, he’s not feeling optimistic about being able to find her.  And if Roni’s honest, neither is she.  But the prospect of reuniting some day, sooner rather than later, seems to be the last string of hope that the two can hold on to together.  So for both of their sakes, they know they have to put on brave faces.  

Harry raises their clasped hands to his lips, and kisses each one of Roni’s knuckles individually-- taking extra care around the mood ring on her finger.  She bites her lip, and Harry knows another wave of tears is incoming.  He offers her his best smile, as optimistic as he can be, and speaks.

“I promise, sweet girl.  I promise.”

---

Harry wakes hours later from a restless and uncomfortable sleep when he feels a stirring beside him. He flutters his lashes open and remembers, all too quickly, the reason he’s here.

Roni sits up, stiff and dazed beside him, staring unwaveringly at the ocean with confused eyes.  Harry’s heart sinks to the pit of his stomach as he realizes the inevitable— this is it.

He reaches forward to gently touch her arm but quickly decides against it, not wanting to ruin her one chance at getting home.  He instead watches her with bated breath, waiting to see what she does.

“Veronica,” he whispers. “You alright, honey?”

She doesn’t respond. In fact, she doesn’t even look at him.  She digs her hand into the blanket beneath them to help prop herself up and onto her feet.  Harry moves with her, prepared to catch her when she stumbles a bit.  He watches her intently, wondering what she’s going to do.  

“Darling,” he says slowly, “Veronica… hey—“

She takes a slow step forward, hesitates, then takes another. And another. And then she’s walking towards the freezing cold waves lapping up against the shore.  Harry panics. Is this how this is supposed to go?

“Veronica wait!” He speaks more urgently this time, stepping quickly to follow behind her. “Hey, wait a second, honey—”

Roni stumbles, almost in a drunken state not much different from the first time Harry ever saw her.  She really is going, and he knows he shouldn’t stop her.  But the waves seem violent, and it makes him more anxious than he already is.

“Veronica,” Harry chokes out, realizing now that he’s crying. “Honey, no, no, don’t go-- not like this… not yet… I’m-I’m not--”

“Let her go,” comes a voice, gentle and melodic behind Harry.

He turns around, no longer trying to conceal the tears in his eyes, and is shocked to see Violet, the mysterious and mystical fortune teller, standing there. Despite the cold, all she has wrapped around her dress is a shawl, and she doesn’t even seem fazed.

“She will be okay,” Violet continues, taking a gentle step towards him. “You have to let her go.”

“She’ll drown.” It’s the only thing Harry can think to say, but it’s not what he wants to say at all. He doesn’t really know what he wants to say at all, actually. His thoughts are running a mile a minute and his heart is aching.

Violet smiles knowingly at him. “She will not drown,” she says. “She will go peacefully back to where she belongs.”

Harry sniffs, a salty tear rolling down his cheek and getting caught in the corner of his mouth. “You promise?” He sounds pathetic, his voice thick and cracking, but he doesn’t even care.

Violet nods. “You have my word.”

Harry glances back towards Roni, who is slowly making her way further into the water. His stomach is in knots. All he wants is to run to her. Has he said everything he needed to say? He’s told her how much he loves her, but does she really know? Has he wasted his last day with her?

As if reading his mind, Violet closes the space between the two of them. She raises a comforting and gentle hand to his back, and he turns slowly back to her.  “You did everything necessary.” She speaks quietly, looking straight into Harry’s eyes. “You gave her exactly what she needed.  She will never forget you as long as she lives.”

Harry’s tears are flowing freely now, and his face is hot. The blanket previously wrapped around him is long forgotten on the sandy shore, but it doesn’t even matter.  He welcomes the cold bitterly, and shakes his head as he watches Roni wade into the sea.  

“What are you even doing here?” He asks, sounding a bit more angry than intended.  “Hm?  Have you been watching us?”

Violet remains calm, despite his accusations.  “I just figured you might need someone here with you when the time came.”  She takes a deep breath.  “And I wanted to see the girl off. I’ve taken a liking to her as well.”  

The two watch Roni stumble deeper into the ocean, completely unaware of her own actions.  Violet hums, low in her throat.  “To answer your question though, no.  I wasn’t watching you.  I just got here.”

“How did you know we’d be here then?  And when?”  Harry glances back at Roni, who is now up to her waist. She must be freezing, and Harry wants nothing more than to go to her and stop her.

“Was I not the one who told you to do this?”  A bitter wind whips through Violet’s hair as she turns to face the sea as well. “I knew I would come up on you two eventually. Besides, this is the exact moment the moon is at her fullest. Of course Roni is going right now.”

Harry let’s out a pathetic and completely unintentional sob, his emotions getting the better of him as a panic attack rises in his stomach. “Fuck,” he says, then with growing intensity, “Fuck!” He kicks the sand, ignoring the resistance it gives him, then turns desperately back to Violet. “Does she know I love her? Does she know—“ He can’t catch his breath, and voice is loud. “Does she know I’m here watching her go? Jesus, I can’t—can’t do this, I- I mean I didn’t think it would be this fucking hard, Violet. Can I stop her? Fucking hell, can I stop her?!”

Violet takes a step towards Harry, who’s jaw is now trembling in synchronicity with his shaking hands. She puts a reassuring and calm hand on his shoulder. “It’s over, Harry,” she says. “You must let her go.”

Harry reaches up, running a hand through his sweaty, messy hair, glancing frantically from Roni—who is in the water up to her mid back now— back to Violet, who now seems worried about him. He lets out a wail, moving like he’s going to run to Roni, but Violet is quicker; wrapping her arms around him and holding him back.

He struggles against her a bit, eventually falling to his knees in the sand. Violet drops with him, gently holding him securely upright while comfortingly scratching at his back.  She keeps a watchful eye on Roni; as does Harry, only his vision is nearly completely blurred.   He wails, punching a little mound of sand beside his knees and using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.  “Goddammit,” he mutters.  “Fucking goddammit.  This was a mistake.”

“Harry,” Violet says urgently, sounding more human than she has in the entirety of the time Harry has known her.  “Listen to me, it wasn’t a mistake.  I need you to breathe.”

He looks at Violet desperately, shaking his head. “I should have begged her.  I could have made her stay.  I fucking could have made her stay, Violet.  I shouldn’t--”  He gasps for air between sobs, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand.  “Fuck, I shouldn’t have let her go.”

“Yes you should have,” Violet reassures him.  “This is the right thing.  Think of her mother.  Think of her life.”

Harry watches Roni, who is in past her neck now, and he tries to swallow down his panic.  He watches her sink further and further, knowing in his logical mind that she’s completely safe.  He blinks a few tears out of his eyes, his sweaty hair on his forward moving back and forth with each attempt to catch his breath, and then turns to Violet.   “I love her, Violet.” His voice is desperate and pathetic, and he hates himself for it.

Violet looks as though even she herself, in all her powerful glory, wants to cry as well.  She nods,  wiping a tear that has made its way down to Harry’s chin.  “I know you do,” she says softly.  “I’m so sorry, Harry.”

The two friends turn back to the sea, and Harry feels a sinking finality when he realizes he can no longer see Roni’s head.  His breathing slows just a tick, and he lets out a shaky breath— realizing for the first time that it’s coming out in a hot cloud around his mouth. “Is she gone?” He asks quietly.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He knows the answer.  His head falls, chin to chest, and he holds his face in his hands.

Violet says nothing, she only holds Harry in his desperation, breathing against him to try and subtly slow his breathing and calm him down.  His sobs are heartbreaking, but they’re quieter now; less frantic. He cries until his throat feels thick and raw, and then it becomes somewhat silent.  He isn’t sure how long he’s been there, and he almost starts to feel bad for Violet, who just sits there with him, patient as ever.

She doesn’t seem to mind, of course, she just rubs her hand up and down his back and holds him in the most comforting way she can manage.  

After what feels like ages, he raises his hot, wet face to look at her. Her face is sad, but comforting.  She offers him a faint, sympathetic smile.  

“Will you help me?” Harry asks.

Violet cocks her head to the side. “Help you with what, Harry?”

“Look for her. Find a way. I don’t know.”

Violet’s face changes as she considers what he’s asking, taking in a deep breath and taking her time with her answer. She glances out at the ocean, which has somehow grown impossibly more calm since Roni’s disappearance. Finally, after a moment, she hums.

“You have to be prepared for any outcome, Harry.” She speaks sternly, as if to a child. “You don’t know if you have the gift—“

“I have to try.” He cuts her off, shaking his head and speaking through a throat that feels thick and raw. “I have to try.”

Violet scans his face, blinking slowly as she considers what he’s saying. “And are you prepared for what would happen should you fail?”

“I don’t care about that,” he says quickly.  “I don’t care. Because what happens if I’m successful? What if I do have the gift? Hm?  Then what?”

“I don’t believe it’s that simple, Harry.” Violet sighs. “I don’t get the sense that you have it.”

“But I have to try.” Harry emphasizes his words. “And if you won’t help me, then I’ll find a way myself.”

He rises to his feet and faces the sea, already beginning unbuttoning his shirt as if he’s about to undress and follow his darling Roni.  Violet stands just as quickly, making her way over to him.

“Harry, Harry!” she says quickly, reaching forward to stop him.  “Stop.”

He turns to Violet, and it’s the first time she notices how puffy his eyes are.  She sees how determined he is, how absolutely heartbroken, and it hurts her own heart.   She’s never been in love, although she’s helped many people who have been.  She does understand connections like this, and although she unfortunately doesn’t get the sense that Harry is someone equipped with the gift of time travel, she knows he’s not going to give up any time soon.  Not until he knows for sure.

So she sighs.

“I’ll help you,” she says.  “But it’s going to take work.”  She rubs his arm comfortingly.  “And time.  You can’t go right now.”

“But I can go?  Eventually?”  He looks at her with hope in his eyes, reminiscent of a small child, and it makes Violet feel for him even more.

“I can’t promise you that,” she says.  “I wish I could.”

Harry looks out at the sea, one last time, then wraps Violet in his arms.  It’s the first time all evening he’s reciprocated her comforting embrace, and he can feel her smile as she hugs him back.

Violet isn’t sure how long she holds him, and she knows he’s still crying by the way his back trembles every now and again.  When he finally pulls away, it’s with a thankful smile.  He groans and laughs at himself, reaching up to wipe at his eyes.  “Sorry,” he giggles, “must look a mess.”

“You look fine, darling.”  Violet gives his shoulder a reassuring squeeze before nodding her head towards the setup previously used by him and Roni.  “Come along, then. I’ll help you get this cleaned up so you can get home and get yourself a proper night’s sleep.”

---------------

There’s a buzzing in Roni’s ears, and her hands feel as though they’re vibrating.  It comes after an intense, icy feeling in her veins, coursing throughout her entire being then fading all at once.  She feels out of breath, but her heart is pounding slower than usual.

She’s somewhere between sleep and consciousness, and she recognizes this feeling in the back of her mind. The blackness behind her eyes somehow grows brighter and brighter with each passing second, as colorful memories flash far too quickly for her to make them out individually.  At one moment, she’s a child again.  At another, she’s at her mother’s funeral.  And at another still, she’s graduating high school, waving out to her grandparents and Oliver in the front row. These specific instances don’t evoke any strong feelings in her one way or another, yet somewhere inside they stir something up.  

A vision of herself, as an old woman, flashes behind her eyes, and although in her logical brain she knows that she isn’t old yet, she feels as though she’s lived that moment every second of every day.

The memories get brighter and brighter, buzzing loudly in her ear, and her body feels detached from her soul as she’s suddenly surrounded by nothing but white light.  

Roni isn’t even sure when she’s opened her eyes, but all of her thoughts have quieted instantly.  There is absolutely nothing surrounding her except white. She is completely alone, but it isn’t frightening by any means.  In fact it feels rather peaceful. She presses forward, taking a step towards nothing in particular, and her legs feeling strangely weak as they carry her on.

Her heart feels heavy in her chest as she walks, beginning to regain a sense of consciousness while remaining absolutely at peace.  She remembers that she’s traveling through time, yes, but why? Where is she going?

Your mind accepts this absolutely.  It is 9:30am on June 16th, 1985.  You have travelled back in time.  Soon, you will open your eyes---

A voice that sounds familiar to her-- is it her own?-- catches her attention, and a memory comes to her mind like an electric shock.  June 16th, 1985… what’s significant about that?

-into the hallway of the home you share with your mother, Tanya Rachel Elliot, and you will walk downstairs to find her cooking-

She smells something, distant and faint, but it isn’t the blueberry pancakes she hears the voice describing.  Instead, it smells like… a house? A bedroom she’s familiar with. Who’s bedroom?

It comes to her quickly, her mind filling with images of Oliver, her boyfriend, at a New Year’s Eve party.  The voice— her own voice— states that it’s 1985.  Her conscious mind knows that it’s almost 2000.

Like a slap to the face, Roni remembers Harry.  She remembers the first night she met him, when she was cold and disoriented in the streets of New York.  She remembers falling in love with him, quicker than anything she’s ever experienced, and then her heart aches at the memory of leaving him. Knowing why she’s here, and how she’s going back to the modern world.

“Roni,” she hears a voice in the distance, soft and feminine and familiar, and Roni turns on her heel in her dreamlike state. She doesn’t see anyone, but she knows she recognizes that voice.  

“Veronica,” it comes again, and Roni blinks in the bright light trying to find the source.  Her mind is foggy, but she knows the voice. She knows she does, but she can’t quite put her finger on it.

“Veronica, darling.”

Through the fog in her eyes, she makes out a figure— far, far away, but moving towards her somewhat quickly.  It’s a familiar outline, even if she can’t see the details of the person’s face.  The closer she gets she realizes it’s a woman, and Roni tries to blink her eyes into some clarity.

The closer the woman gets, the more things start to make sense in Roni’s brain.  The woman steps into focus, and it hits Roni like a ton of bricks.

“Mom?”  She whispers, afraid that if she speaks any louder she’ll ruin any type of illusion.

The woman-- her mother-- nods gently as she comes into clear view, now only a few mere feet away from her.  “It’s me, baby.”

Roni takes a moment, hardly daring to move until she can’t take it any longer.  She lunges, awkwardly, running to close the gap between them and falling ungracefully into her mother’s arms.

This moment is one that she’s imagined so many times before in her life, yet she never could have dreamt how good it would feel.  Her mother wraps her arms around Roni tightly, kissing her head, as Roni bawls like a baby.

“Is it really you?” Roni asks.  “Are you really here?”

“I’m here, my sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

Roni hardly hears her mother’s words, she just wraps her arms impossibly tighter around the older woman, as if scared that she’ll slip right from her fingers without warning.  “Mom,” she sobs, “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Oh, baby,” Tanya coos.  “I’m with you every day.”

Tanya pulls away slightly, despite Roni’s tugging at her, and wipes Roni’s eyes with her thumbs.  “Don’t cry, my love.”

Roni lets out a wet laugh, reaching up to wipe at her snotty nose with the back of her hand.  She hasn’t seen her mother in fifteen years, and she knows she must look an absolute mess right now.  “Sorry,” she says,  “I’m just… I can’t believe it’s you.”

“I know, Peanut.”  Tanya smiles a smile that is so absurdly kind; a smile that Roni loved being on the receiving end of throughout her entire childhood.  “It feels so wonderful to hold you in my arms again.”

Tanya was never a crier, so Roni suspects she won’t be now in the afterlife either.  Still, the look on her face tells Roni all that she needs to know, and it’s beautiful. Roni sighs, leaning into Tanya’s hold on her face and staring at her mother eagerly, as if one blink will send her vanishing away again.  She reaches up to place her hand on top of her mothers, and notices Tanya’s attention briefly shift.

Tanya squints, then laughs-- a surprised, tinkling sort of noise-- as she removes her hand from Roni’s face.  She takes Roni’s hand in her own then and thumbs at the mood ring on her finger.  “You’ve kept my ring!”

“Of course!” Roni feels like an overly excitable little girl again, who’s about to overshare about today’s lesson after school.  “Of course I did!”

“It’s pink,” Tanya observes. She smiles warmly. “It was always pink with you.”

“It was mostly pink when I was around you,” Roni says.  “Oh god, mom, I have so much to tell you.”

Tanya smiles knowingly.  “Tell me. I’m all ears.”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Roni says, through a wet and tearful laugh.  “I guess… I mean, first of all, where the hell am I?”

“Where do you think you are?” Tanya’s eyes sparkle mischievously, but her words only make Roni panic slightly.  

“Am I… dead?”

Tanya giggles. “No, my love. You aren’t dead.  You’re in the between.”

“The…. between?”

“You have been here before,” Tanya explains. “Between timelines.  Between time itself.  You passed through here when you first traveled back. Of course, you weren’t quite sure of what you were doing, so it may be a blur in your memory.”

Roni tries her hardest to think back to the night she arrived with Harry.  It is a blur, but it comes back to her faintly. Lots of stumbling, lots of white light.

She cocks her head to the side. “Were you there that night?  Or… I guess, here?”

“I was,” Tanya says, nodding. “I watched you. I tried to reach out, but whatever it was that was calling to you— a soul tie, a connection, whatever— was much stronger than I. So I did my best to just guide you to it.”

“Oh.”  Roni processes her mother’s words, marveling at the fact that her twin flame connection with Harry had been that strong that she hadn’t even been able to stop here and speak to her mother.  “I see.”

Tanya smiles that ever knowing smile. “Tell me about them,” she says softly.

“What?”

“The person. Your calling.” Tanya takes Roni’s hand in her own. “They must have done a number on you, baby.”

Roni sighs, unsure of where to even begin, but instantly feeling touched just by looking at her mother’s sweet face. She wants to start crying again, but she refuses to let herself.  Her mother stays patient, not pressuring Roni to speak until she’s ready.

And with a deep breath, she launches right into it.

She tells her mother everything; about how she was trying to go back in time to save her, about how Harry had saved her that night, about how she tried to stay strong but ended up falling head over heels for him.  It’s difficult recounting everything, especially because it feels so fresh in her own mind, and as hard as she’s working to conceal her tears, she can’t stop them from falling down her cheeks.

And Tanya only listens.  Kind and understanding, Tanya listens.  She doesn’t interrupt, she only nods every now and then, giving Roni the most sympathetic eyes in the world.

Roni laughs, cries, and every emotion in between as she tells her mother the entire story.  And at the end of it, her mother wraps her in a comforting embrace while she tries to get her tears under control.  

“My sweet girl,” Tanya coos, scratching Roni’s back comfortingly.  “My sweet, brave girl.”

When Roni pulls away, confusion clouds her features. She searches her mother’s face for a wordless answer to a question  she has yet to ask.

“Mom?” She says through a shaky breath, “Am I… I mean, did I do the right thing?”

Tanya brushes Roni’s hair off of her face, coming through it lovingly with her fingers. “Do you think you did?”

Roni groans.  “God, you sound just like him. I just want to know if I made the right decision, but I have no way of gauging that, you know?  Like how do I know?”

Tanya laughs.  “To tell you the truth, my love, I really think you did. In fact, I can promise that you did.”

“But... Harry…” Roni trails off in a sigh. “I just want to know that he’ll be okay. You know?”

Tanya nods understandingly. “I know.”

“So is there… I don’t know, like, a way? For you to watch over him? I don’t know how the afterlife works.”

Tanya giggles at Roni’s words. “I’ll check in on him, sweetheart. If that’s what you want.”

“And can you—“ Roni sniffs, willing herself not to start sobbing again. “Can you tell him I love him?”

“You love him?” It isn’t accusatory, and her tone isn’t really all that shocked either. It’s a simple question, but Roni’s insides flip.

“I do,” she says decidedly. “So, so much.”

Tanya’s next question takes Roni by surprise. “And Oliver?”

“You know about Oliver? I didn’t start dating him until after you—“

“I know,” Tanya says calmly. “I’m with you always.”

“Oh.” Roni blows a puff of air out from her lips, reaching up to fidget with her hair. “Well. I love Oliver, but it’s not… I mean…. Harry is…” She trails off, looking helplessly at her mother, as if Tanya will be able to fill in the blanks.

Tanya only smiles. “Your twin flame. I know.”

Roni laughs in disbelief.  “It’s weird, huh?”  She asks. “How does that even happen?”

“How could you possibly travel back to 1925?” Tanya laughs. “Some things are not meant for us to understand, my darling.”  She gives Roni’s shoulder a playful squeeze before continuing. “Anyway.  I like Oliver.  He’s a good kid.  He takes good care of you.  But Harry,” she smiles knowingly,  “Harry set your soul on fire. This I know for sure.”

“I can’t help but feel like I did the wrong thing,” Roni sighs. “Even though I know I didn’t. I jst couldn’t erase you, you know? And everyone back home that I love—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.  Not to me.  You did the right thing.”

Roni sighs, eyes scanning the great white abyss surrounding them as she tries to figure out what on earth to say.  “So now what?” She tries after a moment. “Where do I even go from here?”

“Back home,” Tanya says, a comforting hand trailing up Roni’s arm. “To live a long and full life. To grow old, and to have children of your own.  To stop living in the past.”  The last bit is said more pointedly, and Roni blinks through her misty eyes back at her mother.

“I’m not—“

“Veronica,” Tanya says slowly, “darling, look at all you’ve had. My god, look at all you’ve done.”

“I would trade it all to have you back, mom.”  Roni reaches for her mother’s hand and  squeezes. “All of it. Every bit.”

Tanya smiles.  “I know, sweetheart.  I know. But I am gone.  You have done everything you could have done to bring me back.  It was not in fate's design.”

Roni shakes her head, not wanting to believe her mother’s words but knowing she’s right. “But where do I go?” she repeats, quieter this time.

Tanya takes a big deep breath in through her nose.  “I told you.  You must go on and do even more incredible things with your life.”  She laughs softly through her nose, and if Roni had blinked she’d have missed the moisture forming in her mother’s eyes.  “I am so, so proud of who you are, Veronica.”

“I don’t want to go on without you, mom.”

“You will never have to.  You never have before.  I’m always going to be with you.”

“But now I have to like… go into the world again.  The modern world, I mean.  Knowing that I’ve seen you again, and that I’ve been in love.  Real actual love.  How can I just... go back?”

“You don’t have to go back, sweetheart.  Not like that.  You don’t have to be stuck.  Life is far too short to be living it in a way that doesn’t make you happy.  Do you understand?  Do not let it pass you by.”

“But… but you-- and Harry--”

“Stop living in the past, Peanut. Worrying, and not allowing yourself to move forward, will never add any years to your life.  It didn’t mine.”

Roni’s shoulders visibly soften, and she blinks up at her mother.  She wants to take in all of her mothers advice, but mostly she just wants to drink in as much of her mother’s presence as possible.  “I love you, mom.”

“I love you too, Veronica. More than you know.”

In the distance, Roni begins to hear a soft commotion.  She looks around, trying to figure out where on earth the noise could be coming from (considering that there is nothing around her except for a great white nothingness).  It starts out dull, a faint buzzing that gradually grows louder.  She turns back to her mother, only to be met with a sad smile.

“Our time is almost up here,” Tanya explains, and Roni’s heart begins to swell with panic.

“What? No, I’m not ready—“

“You are ready, dear. You are as ready as you’ll ever be.”

The commotion grows louder, and Roni shakes her head. “But I don’t know what to do!”

“Yes you do.” Tanya nods. “You always have.”  She reaches forward and wraps Roni into a tight hug, giving her a squeeze and pressing her lips to her head. “Remember what I told you. I’ll always be with you. So will he.”

“I don’t know what to do!” Roni wails again, her puffy eyes aching with pressure as more tears begin flowing. “I don’t know where to go!”

“The answers will come,” Tanya says, pulling away from Roni slowly. “What is meant to be will be.  Some things you cannot change, but what is meant to be will always find a way.”

“Why weren’t you meant to stay with me then?” Roni cries, beginning to struggle to be heard over the buzzing noise of an invisible crowd. “To watch me grow up? To help me through life? Why did you have to go?”

“Everything has a reason,” Tanya says, stepping backwards from Roni. “Some reasons, we are never meant to know.”

“Mom—“

“I love you, Peanut.” Tanya continues to step backwards from Roni, and Roni tries to lunge for her. Her legs, however, feel like molasses, as if she’s suddenly dreaming and she can’t seem to move fast enough to where she needs to be.

“Don’t go yet!” Roni calls. “I’m not ready!”

“You are ready.”  Roni can barely hear her mother now, and it seems that the further she steps away from her, the louder the buzzing becomes. “Don’t forget what I’ve told you.”

“But mom—“

In a flash, Tanya seems as far away as she can possibly get.  Roni panics, turning around as quickly as her legs will let her, in search for some kind of answer. A door, perhaps, or at least the source of the deafening noise she’s hearing.

She calls for her mother, feeling desperately like a child who’s lost in a supermarket. She feels hot tears rolling down her face, and she defiantly wipes them away with the back of her wrist.

“Mom!”

The noise is ringing in Roni’s ears now, and her body feels fuzzy and foreign as she looks for an answer. She raises her palms to her ears to try and drown the noise out, but she can’t— it’s too deep within her head.  “Fuck,” she cries, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Veronica,” comes her mother’s voice, as clear in her head as if it were her own consciousness. “Darling.”

Roni’s chest grows heavy as she wills the noise to stop, please; and all the while images of Harry flash in her head.  Her mother’s voice comes again, and is the last thing she hears before everything goes completely black.

“Open your eyes.”

[sunflowerspecter]

haley (a.h.)

summary: hotch doesn’t know if it’s time to move on. then he meets you, and your daughter haley. 

warnings: canon-typical violence, canon-typical mentions of murder, canon-typical mentions of drugs 

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

words: 3.6k

note: hey? i’m back! with another fic! after like four months! woo. i’m also almost at 400 followers which is pretty wild so cool cool. this is absolutely unedited and i’ve been working on it for literally ever, but i doubt you expected more from me anyways (the plot is also kind of sketch) anywayss, here it is my loves! 

~~~oOo~~~

“JJ!” you yell, crossing the bullpen quickly. She turns to face you and smiles widely, throwing her arms open. 

“Y/n!” she calls as you fall into her arms. “Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! What are you doing here?” 

“My team’s going to be working with your team for the next couple of cases!” As the communications liaison for Operations Support Branch (OSB), you and JJ used to collaborate often, until she was transferred and changed positions. You and her don’t get to see each other half as often as you want, but sometimes you bring your daughter, Haley, to spend time with Henry. 

“Wait, really? Why weren’t we alerted?” she asks. Behind her, a tall man with dark hair steps towards you, and you already know who he is. SSA Aaron Hotchner. 

“Because the decision was just made this morning,” he says. He offers his hand and you shake it. “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner.” 

“We all call him Hotch,” JJ adds quickly. 

“Y/n Y/l/n,” you say to him. “I’m the communications liaison for the OSB. I’m the only one here right now, my team is heading up as we speak.” You turn to the elevator, where your boss, Sam Holmestead, is standing, talking to Derek Morgan, someone JJ had introduced you to. “Holmes is over there.” 

“Great,” Hotch says, “excuse me.” He nods at you and begins his way over to your boss, and you watch the entire way. 

“Ooh,” JJ sings, giving you a friendly laugh. 

“Oh, shut up,” you say, but you’re laughing too. “Now, I heard there’s a case.” 

She nods. “Come up to the conference room, we’ll introduce your team to my team and give you all of the details.” 

In the room, you, Holmes, and the two others from your team that were joining you— Gary Long and John Wilson— stand at the back, while the BAU all gathered in their seats. 

“These four are from the OSB,” Hotch says. “Strauss wants our team to collaborate with some members of the OSB on the next few cases, so they’ll be travelling with us,” Hotch says. “JJ, want to make introductions?” 

She nods, then says, “Sam Holmestead leads the team, and this is Y/n Y/l/n, Gary Long, and John Wilson.” She turns to her team, then, and says, “This is Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, and David Rossi.” 

Greetings are exchanged, and then it’s back to business. “Two young women were kidnapped and then killed in Tallahassee, Florida,” Garcia says. “Each one was taken from a parking lot, then held captive for a week, and then killed. A week after the first girl was killed, the second one went missing. She was found dead yesterday. Other than their throats being slashed, they were otherwise unharmed.” 

You blink down at the pictures. You’ve seen things before, awful things, but this was just… so much worse. You feel better about your squeamishness when you look over and see that Wilson is as white as a ghost. 

“So, what does this guy get from the kill?” Morgan says, one elbow on the table. 

“It’s rather clean, as far as murder goes,” Prentiss quips. “No stabbing, no bruising. Even the cut is clean.” 

“How long did it take her to die? This could be seen as merciful,” you say, glancing at Holmes, who nods at you. 

“I’m guessing just a few seconds,” Reid said, looking through his file and finding the coroner’s report, then nodding and glancing up at you. 

“Garcia, do these girls have anything in common?” Hotch asks, and your attention goes straight to him (because he’s talking, and you’re polite, obviously). 

“They both attended Florida state and now work in insurance. Different companies,” Garcia says. 

Hotch nods at her, then says, “Wheels up in 30.” 

~~~oOo~~~

The jet is larger than you expected. And nicer, too. You take a seat between JJ and Morgan, and see Garcia on Skype on the table. The rest of the group files in, and you begin discussing the case. 

“So, what’s this guy's deal? What’s he doing with these girls for a week?” Morgan says. 

“There aren’t signs that they’re tied up, or that he blitz-attacked them,” Prentiss adds. 

“Maybe he kept them locked in a sort of cellar. He wouldn’t need to tie them up.” 

“Did he drug them?” Holmes asks. Reid looks over the report, then nods. 

“Actually, yes, both girls had methylenedioxy​methamphetamine and methamphetamine in their system,” Reid says. 

“MDMA and meth?” JJ says, crossing her arms. 

“Wilson, you still have contacts in Florida, right? See who’s dealing both of those these days,” Holmes says, and Wilson nods, pulling out his phone. 

“MDMA is really hard to get a hold of,” Wilson says, “I’m sure it’s easier in Florida, but still, this guy has to have some way of getting money in. Lots of it.” 

“Okay, so how does he insure he doesn’t hurt them with the drugs?” Prentiss says. 

“And what purpose does it serve? What fantasy is he living out?” Rossi adds. 

The plane hits a bit of turbulence, and your stomach flips. “Is that normal?” you whisper, and JJ laughs, nodding.

“You’ll get used to it,” Morgan says. You nod and give a short laugh. 

“The likelihood of being in a plane crash is about one to 5.4 million,” Reid says, “and even so, it’s improbable that turbulence will cause a crash. Even commercial airlines are built to withstand forces 1.5 times stronger than anything experienced in the past—” 

“Reid,” Hotch says sternly, but softly, “focus, please.” 

“I didn’t know the BAU made cyborgs,” you say, squinting your eyes at Reid. 

Prentiss nods at you, throwing her arms up. “That’s what I’ve been saying! Someone finally understands.” 

“Sorry,” he says, eyes widening. “I’m curious as to whether these girls were using these drugs before or after he took them.” 

“You think they were using before?” Hotch asks, and Reid nods. 

“I just don’t know why he would give the girls these drugs.” 

“I’ll ask the families,” JJ says. 

“When we land, Reid, start setting up a geographical profile. Prentiss and Morgan, check out the dump sights. JJ, talk to the families, and make sure the press doesn’t get the information about the drugs. Rossi, take Long and go check out the abduction sights. Wilson, reach out to your contact. I want Y/l/n and Holmestead to help me with victimology,” Hotch says, looking around. 

“Yes, sir’s” went around the group, and you flip to look at the victim pages. 

Holmes leans across the table and looks at you. “What do you think?” 

You shake your head. “It’s strange,” you say. “They hardly have anything in common. Yeah, they went to the same school, and yeah, they both work in insurance, but two very different jobs.” 

Holmes shrugs, then nods. “I agree. Were they friends?” He looks at Hotch for guidance, who shrugs. 

“We’ll have to find out. Garcia, have you made any connections?” 

Garcia looks up on the screen, then says, “Actually, another girl has just been reported missing.” 

“It’s only been a day,” JJ says, and looks at Hotch. 

“We hit the ground running,” he says, and you all nod. 

~~~oOo~~~

Working with the team goes a lot smoother than expected. Your teams bond together instantly, and you all work quickly and effectively. 

Unfortunately, even a day and a half after the third victim's abduction, you’re no closer. 

“In his comfort zone, there are 14 warehouses, 13 abandoned buildings, 25 apartment complexes, and too many residential areas to count,” you say, looking over Reid’s shoulder as he writes on the board. 

“He could be anywhere,” Hotch mutters, standing beside you. 

“What are we missing?” Rossi says, and you turn and slump into a chair, sitting at the table with the team. Hotch sits next to you, a pensive look on his face. 

“How did he choose each girl? Are these premeditated or spur of the moment? And why did he escalate his time frame?” Morgan says, looking around the table. 

JJ rushes into the room. “The third girl's body was found. And he left a note.” 

The table stands. “Reid and Y/l/n, stay here and analyze the note. JJ, keep the press occupied. No one releases the note. We don’t address it yet. Everyone else, at the crime scene.” 

You nod, finding it a little odd that he left you with Reid (sure, you aren’t a field agent, but the rest of your team is going somewhere), but you stay nonetheless. The team files out and you turn to Reid, looking down at the scan of the note. 

“The paper looks old,” Reid says, and you squint. 

“It’s not old, it was made to look that way. See how it’s not torn or wrinkled, but it’s yellowed?” 

Reid nods and looks at you, for a moment, surprised. It passes quickly, and he’s looking back at the text. “Typewriter, and it’s in third person. It just describes the crime.”

“What does that mean?” you ask, and Reid shrugs. 

“It could mean any number of things. Could be living out his fantasy, could be any number of mental illnesses.” 

You nod, crossing your arms. It’s going to be a long night. 

~~~oOo~~~

The fourth girl was taken in the wide open. There was a witness. With a description of the vehicle. 

“There are more purple Volkswagens in Tallahassee than there should be,” Garcia says, “but only one registered to someone within the comfort zone of our guy.” 

He doesn’t know you’re coming, and the arrest is smooth, and the girl is safe. 

The plane ride back is quiet—everyone is mostly asleep. You sit by Holmes, talking idly about how the court is probably going to rule on the case. Hotch is awake and across from you, but you can tell he’s listening. 

“How’s the little one?” Holmes says, and you laugh. 

“As rebellious as ever,” you sigh. “She wants to be a superhero when she’s older.” 

Holmes laughs, leaning back in his seat and pushing his hand through his hair. “And that’s exactly why I didn’t have kids.” 

You elbow him. “Like you could get someone to reproduce with you, anyway.” 

He gasps, grasping his chest, feigning pain. “Low blow, Y/n, low blow.” 

“Whatever, old man,” you say, leaning back. “How long are we working with the BAU?” you ask, glancing over your sleeping teammates. 

“I’m not sure yet,” he says. Then he lowers his voice and whispers in your ear, “You’ve caught the BAU’s dear boss’s eye, I think.” 

You giggle (you giggle) and say, “No way.” 

“Yes way.” 

“I guess he’s cute,” you say in a whisper. “But that’s a conversation for the morning. I’m exhausted.” 

You look over at Hotch, writing his report and talking quietly with Rossi. You wonder what’s going through his mind. 

“You know she wouldn’t want you to spend the rest of your life mourning her,” Rossi says quietly. Hotch nods. 

“I know that, I do. I just, I wish there was a sign.” 

Rossi puts his hand on his friend's shoulder. “There will be.” He looks over at you, eyes shut, head on Holmes’ shoulder. “Meanwhile, you’ve been looking at her quite a lot.” 

“What?” Hotch says, taking in a shaky breath. 

Rossi chuckles, shrugging. “I think you know.” 

~~~oOo~~~

“Hey, sleep today, but tonight you should come out with us,” Garcia says as you gather your things from your makeshift desk. You landed at 4:30 in the morning, and after finishing your paperwork, you were ready to sleep for the entire day. 

You hesitate, then shrug. “Sure, why not?” 

Garcia squeals, “Yay!” You laugh and nod. 

“What time, and where?” 

“How about I pick you up?” she suggests, and you nod. 

“Actually, that would be great,” you say. She smiles, and leaves you in your office. Your daughter calls you as you're leaving the building, and you meet Hotch in the elevator. 

“Mommy!” the little girl cries happily into the phone. 

“Hi, hon! I’m on my way home right now, what are you doing up this early, baby?” 

She giggles. “Auntie and I have a surprise for you!” 

You freeze. “Haley, what did you do?” You feel Hotch stiffen beside you, but you don’t ask him about it. 

“Nothing! Bye, mommy!” she says before you can tell her no, and she’s hung up. 

“Children,” you mutter. Hotch nods. 

“What’s your kids name?” he asks, barely looking at you. 

“Haley,” you say. “She’s four next month.” He hums, and you ask, “Do you have any children?” 

“Yes,” he says. “Jack. He’s seven.” 

The elevator door opens, and you almost think you’re disappointed. 

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks, and you nod. 

“Yes, thank you.” 

The walk is silent. 

“See you tonight?” you say. 

He shakes his head. “Probably not.” 

“Why not? Could be fun.” 

He hesitates, meeting your eyes. Then, he says, “I’ll think about it.” 

You smile, getting into your car. “Have a good one, Hotchner.” 

“You too, Y/l/n.” 

~~~oOo~~~

Haley is asleep by 8:00, your sitter is at your door by 8:15, and Garcia is at your door at 8:30. 

Black dress, red lipstick. It isn’t too fancy, but if Hotch shows up, you’ll look nice. (Not that you care, of course. As far as you know, he’s married). 

“You look so pretty!” Garcia says once you’re in her car. 

“Thank you! You too!” you say, and then she starts telling you stories from the team. How Reid will go off about Halloween, how Prentiss faked her death, how Morgan and her flirt endlessly (which you picked up on), how Hotch’s son, Jack, is doing soccer. 

You, in turn, tell Garcia about Wilson’s wife, Mary, and how Holmes once fell down a well while working on a case and was stuck for an hour and a half, and how Greg has this terrible habit of accidentally befriending the worst people. 

You reach the bar laughing, and you find the table everyone (except Hotch) is sitting at. You and Garcia join them, and conversation becomes easy. Until, a few minutes after your arrival, Hotch takes a seat beside you. 

“Hi,” he says, and everyone greets him. 

“We were just talking about how we could run off and buy a house in the woods and live a secluded life together for the rest of time,” Prentiss says, and you let out a laugh. 

“I’m sure that will work out wonderfully, especially with three children,” Hotch says. 

“And the house has to be big, there’s a lot of us,” you add. 

“And we work for the government, they’ll be suspicious if we all quit at once,” Greg says. 

Spencer shrugs. “Not to mention the cost of living would be expensive, and we’d be out of a job. Plus, there’s no one to replace us.”

You lean over and boop Spencer’s nose. “We’re irreplaceable.” 

“Don’t count on that, Strauss has been after my ass since the moment I stepped in that office,” Hotch says. 

Rossi mutters something into Hotch’s ear, and your stomach does backflips. JJ turns to you. “Is Haley still into dance?” 

You shake your head. “That was a short lived hobby. I think this week it’s art.” 

“Henry is the same way! He doesn’t stick with one thing for more than a few days,” she laughs. “Hotch, what about Jack?” 

“He’s stuck with soccer pretty consistently, but he also can’t decide if he likes drums or drawing on the wall more.” 

You and JJ laugh. “Where’s Will?” you ask JJ, raising an eyebrow.

“He stayed home with Henry, but he sends his love.” JJ looks over at Hotch. “I presume Jack is with Jessica?” 

“Yes,” he says, huffing a laugh, his eyes darting to yours. “I really should be paying that woman.” 

“Is Jessica not your wife?” you ask, glancing from JJ to Hotch. They share a look, and JJ turns to Spencer, picking up on his and Emily’s conversation. Your attention is now fully on Hotch, who sighs. 

“No, Jessica is my sister-in-law,” he says, and he opens his mouth to say more, but then hesitates. “My wife died a few years ago. Her name was Haley.” 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. “Oh, oh I’m so sorry.” You meet his eyes, but he shakes his head. “My husband died a few years ago too. Right before Haley was born, actually,” you say, laughing humorlessly.

He nudges your shoulder lightly, then says, “Look at us, two widowed single-parents.” 

“A pair we make, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, and he nods. 

~~~oOo~~~

As you’re leaving the conference room after a briefing, Holmes pulls you aside. He watches as everyone leaves the room, and says, “This will be our last case with the BAU.” You blink at him, disappointment filling you. 

“Why are you telling just me?” you ask, crossing your arms. 

Holmes shrugs, looking out the conference room window. You follow his gaze to where Hotch and Morgan are talking in front of Hotch’s office. “Because you might want to shoot your shot before you never see him again,” Holmes says. You try to ask him what he means, but he’s already left the room.

You sigh, picking up your things and getting your bag, going to stand beside JJ and Emily as you make your way out to the jet. You trail a step behind them, your mind racing. What did Holmes mean by that? Your heart dropped a little bit at the thought of never seeing the team you had been working with for the past six months ever again. Surely, you will. JJ and you are close friends, and you had grown close with the rest of the team too, right? 

“What’s on your mind?” You startle at the sound of his voice, looking up to see Hotch looking down at you, his brows drawn together. 

“Oh,” you say. “Nothing.” 

“You can’t lie to a profiler.” 

You laugh. “Holmes told me this is our last case together,” you tell him, looking ahead, where JJ and Emily are boarding the plane. 

“It is,” he says. His voice is even, steady, normal. There is nothing to suggest he is happy for your departure or upset about it. He is neutral. 

“Shame,” you say, “I was sort of getting used to working with you guys.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, and you board the plane. You sit in your usual seat and he sits beside you; that’s how it always is. It feels wrong, today. 

“It’s not like we’re just going to disappear, though,” Hotch says to you, just so you can hear. “You know where I work after all.” You huff a laugh, your heart rate increasing more than you’d care to admit. “On top of that, we have no idea how long this case will last. Maybe it goes horribly wrong and you’re stuck with me forever.” 

“We better solve it quickly, then,” you say, raising an eyebrow at him. He scoffs, and you shake your head. “But, really. I’ll miss working with you.” After a second, your eyes widen and you add, “All.” 

He nods, shifting in his seat. “I’ll regret no longer having your team’s expertise.” 

“Our teams are good together, for sure.” 

~~~oOo~~~ 

After the case, you try not to look too blue as you step onto the jet for the last time. You and Holmes are the first ones on the jet, and when you sit across from him instead of your usual spot, he raises an eyebrow at you. 

“Do you know where we’re going next? What our next assignment is?” you ask. He shakes his head, and you look down at your hands. 

“We won’t be travelling with the BAU,” he says, “but we will be working at headquarters for the meantime.” 

“That’s going to be an adjustment,” you say, looking over at him. “Watching the team leave, not going with them.”

He nods. “But at least you’ll get to see him.” 

“You mean them,” you say, furrowing your brow. “The team.” 

As the words leave your mouth, Hotch walks on board. He nods at the two of you, his facial expression blank. He sits in his usual spot. He looks small. 

“No, I said what I meant,” Holmes said, shrugging. “Maybe you just didn’t want to hear it.” 

You don’t reply, looking over to where Hotch is sitting. You look to Holmes for permission, and he nods at you. You make your way over to Hotch, sitting next to him. 

“Hi,” you say quietly. 

“Hi,” he says back. 

A beat. 

“So—” you both say at the exact same time. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You go first,” he says. 

“I’m going to miss you. The whole team,” you add, “but especially you.” 

He flushes, giving a sort of smile as he shifts in his seat, nodding to you. “I’m going to miss you too.” You hold your breath, and he says, “But I figured, you know, there’s not really any reason we can’t still see each other. After this. We could get coffee sometime.” 

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his. “Are you asking me out, Hotchner?” you whisper quietly, jokingly. 

“Maybe,” he says, looking uncharacteristically unsure. “If you say yes.” 

“Well,” you say, looking up and tapping your chin. You meet his eyes, and he’s staring at you like your next words are the most important thing in the world, “I would be an idiot if I said no.” 

He smiles, big and wide like you’ve never seen and it goes straight to his eyes. “Then it’s a date.” 

“Then it is,” you say, smiling right back at him. 

taglist; let me know if you wanna be added or removed!

@quillvine @winterscaptain @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses

hehe thanks for reading xx

[likehandlingroses]

“Realistic” Tom/Thomas Relationship Timeline

The S3/S4 Tom/Thomas affair is a theory that has been making its way around lately, and it is centered around the contrast in the interactions between Thomas and Tom during the Season 3 Christmas Special and their interactions in the Season 4 Christmas Special. 

This means that usually the start of the relationship is viewed as coinciding with the immediate aftermath of Matthew’s death, which occurs in the Christmas Special of Season 3 (September 1921). Due to the interactions between Tom and Thomas in the Christmas Special of Season 4, the relationship can almost certainly be considered over by that time (May-ish of 1923). But what happened in between, and how long were they actually together? There’s one view that the affair occurs in between Seasons 3 and 4, which means that at the very longest they lasted just under six months (generally I think this view cuts it even shorter than that)...but this leaves some unanswered questions and some peculiarities, so I took another look at the canon to determine when, in fact, Thomas and Tom broke up.

(Note: I definitely know that Julian Fellowes did not intend for them to be having an affair, but also Julian if I’m right just DM me)

Let’s start with what we know about September 1921 and May 1923—the definite before and after points—for reference:

Christmas Special Season 3—September, 1921

In this Christmas special, we see Tom left behind while the rest of the family goes to Duneagle, and we see Thomas still dealing with the Jimmy situation a year after its apparent resolution. On its face, this episode features Tom being challenged in his new role in the house—and being encouraged to step up and face that role—and Thomas finding a way to resolve things with Jimmy.

Except there’s a whole lot of other stuff going on in the periphery of those stories: Tom knows that Jimmy is bothering Thomas and appears to want to intervene at the fair, but he is stopped by Edna, who at one point uses Thomas’s injuries as an excuse to visit Tom and assure him that Thomas is “feeling much better.” And—of course—there’s the fact that Tom and Thomas hug at the fair (and lest you think this was a RJC/Allen Leech moment not caught by editing, it was in multiple takes! Someone—multiple someones actually—included it on purpose). They are friendly, aware of each other, and to be honest it isn’t impossible to argue that maybe the relationship predates Matthew’s death! I’m going to argue otherwise, however, based on how Tom breaks down when Edna kisses him—I think Edna is the first time he’s even really thought of himself in romantic terms for a long time! But Thomas is right there in the wings, and he just finally made some progress on the emotional problem that’s been plaguing him for over a year!

It’s a big difference from what we see in the next Christmas special, big enough to start the theory of the affair in the first place...

Season 4 Christmas Special—Summer 1923

Once again, Tom is left alone at Downton while the rest of the family goes to London...and the difference in how Thomas responds is striking. He’s furious at having to wait on Tom, for reasons both we and the characters cannot quite understand. The excuses don’t add up—at this point, Tom has been living at Downton for three YEARS, and this has never been a problem before. Now all of a sudden Thomas is slamming trays and clenching his fists and provoking Tom into admitting that he sees himself as Above sitting next to him...what?

Then there’s Sarah Bunting, a Miss Sarah Bunting...whose presence infuriates Thomas while also making him eager to use her as a way to embarrass Tom. And Tom knows it, immediately. He’s embarrassed, he’s uncomfortable, but still he’s quick to pull rank with Thomas when challenged. Something has fundamentally altered the way they interact with and perceive each other while sharing the same space.

All of this speaks to a breakup, and a messy one at that...so with the knowledge we have, WHAT exactly happened between September of 1921 and May of 1923? Let’s look at what Season 4 has to say:

4.1/4.2–February, 1922

“That’s right: it’s Valentine’s Day.” 

This is an important piece of the puzzle, because Thomas—Nanny West drama aside—is in a pretty good mood for the Valentine’s Day episode! He engages with Daisy and Jimmy’s Valentine’s card drama with good humor and even some genuine interest...something I do not believe he’d do if he’d only recently been broken up with, and by someone who lived in the house! The big one here, though, is the dialogue Thomas has with Nanny West in which she calls him “Thomas” and he says, “that’s Mr. Barrow to you...”

Now, where did Nanny West hear him referred to as Thomas? The episode makes a point of the fact that nannies do not as a rule spend much time with the downstairs staff—and even if they did, not many of the downstairs crew call Thomas “Thomas” on a regular basis. Nor do the upstairs folks...with one notable exception. Tom, who has to be reminded by Thomas in 4.3 to address him as “Barrow” (more on that later), routinely messes up names and titles.

To me, this suggests that Tom and Thomas are still talking, and it’s pretty clear from Thomas’s attentions to Sybbie in the episode that it would have been easy for Nanny West to overhear it in that context. Now, this doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re still seeing each romantically, but the “Mr. Barrow TO YOU” element implies that the correction was NOT made to whoever Nanny West heard using the name (we presume it’s Tom)...and the distinction is that Nanny West does not *get* to call him that! It definitely seems like whoever she grabbed the name from has been granted permission to do that, and she Has Not. And if it’s Tom...well.

So does that mean that Thomas and Tom were done by 4.3, when Thomas DOES correct Tom on his title? Not exactly...

4.3/4.4–The House Party (pre July 1922)

(tw on this section for discussions involving sexual assault)

The party features Edna’s schemes and assault on Tom in order to extract a promise of marriage from him. It also features a Tom who is incredibly vulnerable and entirely out of his element with the introduction of the Crawley’s friends. This is somewhat of a contrast from the Tom of the first two episodes, who stands up to Robert several times to intervene on Mary’s behalf, and even ropes Carson into the mission. It feels, for a moment, that despite Matthew’s death Tom has taken up the challenge presented to him at the end of Season 3 and begun seeing himself as a valuable, contributing member of the household and family.

But here, Tom speaks of himself as a fool, as walking a tightrope, and of not being understood. He relies on alcohol to get through the event, which Edna takes advantage of—and which gives us a Tom/Thomas interaction that speaks to, in my opinion, a continuing relationship (although perhaps an altering one):

Now, if I had to guess, I would say that Tom might be less *keen* than usual, given his overall demeanor and the new scrutiny placed on him by Edna coming back to the house (not to mention the house party itself). It’s very possible there’s been a lull between the two of them as of late. I do not believe, however, that there is evidence of a clear break between Tom and Thomas as of the house party.

For one, Tom doesn’t just say the wrong thing when addressing Thomas in the drawing room—he says, “Thomas, would you get me a drink for God’s sake?” That is Not how he talks to him in the Christmas Special, where he is stilted and uncomfortable and concerned about how the words will be taken. He isn’t worried about any of that, and while Thomas corrects him, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by it. Tom’s look of irritation at the correction isn’t overdone either.

“It’s Barrow now,” also has flexible meanings. Of course it literally is what Tom is supposed to call him now...but “now” seems like a weird word to use when it’s been what Thomas is meant to be called for several years. It could be a post-breakup smackdown, but we’ve seen what those look like in the Christmas Special, and this doesn’t feel like that! I believe, rather, that Thomas is making reference to the fact that it is incorrect at that moment, something Tom should know and has been discussed!!!

The house party has both of them overworked and tense (this is also the time where Thomas has to fill in for Jimmy because Jimmy hurt his hand...which is SO ridiculous if you think about it for more than two seconds), but Edna’s transgression still draws Thomas’s attention

And that’s important! Thomas had been friends with Edna until this point, largely for convenience it seems—she is a new lady’s maid, and she can feed him information. Thomas even worked with her to mess with Anna, who had earlier made a comment to Edna about his intentions in befriending her. There’s a bond forming there, and while I don’t believe Thomas would genuinely support the literal details of Edna’s plot, I don’t think it’s a foregone conclusion that he would be Opposed to Edna taking advantage of what she would frame as an indiscretion on Tom’s part. Not if he disliked Tom or was predisposed to believe Tom was at fault (ie: someone who expects to be “waited on Hand and Foot while he decides what Might Please Him Next”).

But right away, Thomas is suspicious the morning after. We see Thomas spying on Edna as she corners Tom, and he specifically brings it up to her later to catch her out. Already his tone is soured where she’s concerned. He’s sensed she’s up to something and he can probably guess the vague idea if not the particulars...and it turns him against her almost instinctively.

So what’s that about? Could it just be jealousy? The thing is, we know what Thomas would do if he believed that Edna and Tom were simply having an affair—we see what happens in the S4 Christmas Special with Sarah Bunting. This isn’t like that at all. 

Thomas immediately blames Edna for what’s happened, calling her a manipulative little witch and declaring that he’s delighted her plans didn’t work. There’s no question of Thomas’s loyalties, even though Edna assumes he’ll want to “keep in with” her. Not for one second does he appear to consider this, and that seems to distinguish this incident from later ones.

4.5/4.6–What Are These Episodes (pre-July 1922)

There isn’t a lot to remember about these episodes for Tom or Thomas, and so what people may not remember is that these are the episodes Tom starts floating the idea of leaving for America—a full season before he tries starting that conversation again, and over two years before he actually DOES temporarily move to Boston. Now, that kind of decision takes time, but it’s kind of...strange that he begins making it here in the spring of 1922 and will not seriously consider it again until well into 1924!

Whether this has anything at all to do with Thomas can’t be determined, but I do enjoy hearing Tom say it will be impossible for him to marry anyone at Downton because an upper class woman won’t have him, and would an “nice Irish working class girl” make everyone “comfy?”...and Thomas is standing Right There! What does it mean...

Thomas is also getting more paranoid, he’s got Baxter in the house feeding him information...and he’s generally giving off a different vibe than he has all season. 

Here is where I think the connection is starting to see some serious cracks—Tom is realizing he doesn’t belong and is making moves to change that. Meanwhile, Thomas is making moves to ensure Nothing Ever changes without him knowing about it ahead of time! Tension abounds, though we don’t see any evidence of it being directed at each other just yet...

4.7/4.8–Interesting and Modern (July 1922)

Thomas goes to America and Tom meets Miss Bunting...weird how that just happened like that!

Thomas is excited to go to New York, and it seems...pretty clear he fucked while he was there. I think if you’re gay and you go to New York in the 1920s and you come back and all you can tell your coworkers is that it was “interesting and modern” you definitely were not doing anything you can actually talk about

Now, that doesn’t necessarily mean that he and Tom are Done (they may not have ever been exclusive on paper), but the overall feeling from Tom is a dejected man in limbo...he can’t even say he’s a Socialist anymore. It’s not going well. So my inclination is to say that Tom hit pause (maybe not for the first time), and Thomas is dealing with it by getting some in New York (great!) and bullying his coworkers (bad!) So why do I think they weren’t totally done at that time? Because these episodes happen in the summer of 1922...the Christmas Special for S4 takes place in May of 1923. That’s a long time to have passed! A long time for Tom to keep Miss Bunting at arm’s length, a long time for Thomas to be fuming over something...I believe that in the Christmas Special what we are seeing is the last stand of two people who are grappling with finally cutting a fraying thread.

Another Look At The S4 Christmas Special

These scenes are truly some of the most incomprehensible things Downton Abbey ever presented to us with virtually no explanation.  So let’s take another look at what’s happening here.  

First of all, we have the scene with Tom and Thomas entering the house after sending Edith off and leaving Tom offically on his own--they don’t appear openly hostile, though there’s some tense looking when the other person isn’t and looking back down again when they are energy...but nothing egregious. 

Not until we see Thomas slam down a tray, that is. In fact, this whole thing seems to be coming from Thomas’s anger, while Tom appears eager to just smooth it over by not causing trouble and following the rules set forth by the household norms. This seems in line with Tom’s general dispositon--with both Edna and Miss Bunting he tries to ease out rather than break things off. 

 But Thomas interprets this as dismissive, and while he says to Ivy it’s about their positions in the house...as discussed above this really doesn’t logically check out. I do think it irritates him that Tom is essentially avoiding Thomas because it’s what “pleases him,” but it runs deeper than “he used to be the chauffeur.” Because that was always the case. 

And then Tom brings Miss Bunting back without telling anyone, and he takes her upstairs. And this makes Thomas INSANE, and Tom knows IMMEDIATELY that it will! And Tom is eager to assure “Mr. Barrow” that nothing happened (actually, what he’s really eager to do is have Thomas not stand there while he eats, but Thomas is not budging). 

Thomas is furious. He’s said to Ivy that he is SICK of this man, he’s tired of dealing with him...and then he tries to get Tom to sit next to him the car? 

Thomas stole a dog one time, and I still think this might be his wildest attempt at controlling a situation we see on the show. What is going on? If Tom HAD let him sit in the back, would Thomas have still gone to Lord Grantham about Miss Bunting? If Thomas hadn’t been such a jerk about Miss Bunting, would Tom have LET him? What is poor Ivy even processing this as? Am I the only one hearing Taylor Swift’s Better Than Revenge playing? 

Thomas acts immediately on coming to London, dropping the line of “Mr. Branson is stil a young man, and he can’t be expected to stay single forever”...he’s Angry Angry!! If they were on a break before, I don’t think it had fully set in for Thomas that it might be Permanent until now. And I think Tom’s newly avoidant personality we see in other scenarios gave him the wrong impression in this respect.

In Summary

I think that the relationship was relatively “on” from the period of September 1921 through whenever the house party took place. The house party caused some huge issues, mostly for Tom (understandably)—he may have unfairly blamed himself for what happened and drew wrongful parallels to what’s happening with Thomas. I think that after that it was very “off,” but I believe that neither Thomas nor Tom really committed to ending it either...and when we see them in 1923 they are in the peak stages of finally facing the end of things.

So what caused the final shift? Perhaps Thomas came back from New York with expectations, expectations Tom found himself intimidated by. Perhaps Thomas’s increasing paranoia and Tom’s growing agnosticism towards his own beliefs and identity are related and fed off of each other until they both just did not like the person they were seeing! Maybe it’s just that Downton Abbey is a really bad place for both of them, and even though they started off trying to protect each other from that, they got sucked in and turned on each other!

In any case, by Season 5 the romantic relationship appears over for good, though there is some evidence in later episodes that Tom and Thomas settled down a bit over time (Thomas defending Tom in S5 at Brancaster, and Tom saying he hates goodbyes in reference to Thomas). 

We will just have to see what happens when they realize they both are dating someone new, and they work together too :) 

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Specs

(Please ignore how awful my gif is)(Requested via message)

(I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a while!)

- You met Specs while walking to work in the morning. He was out selling his papers when you and a few of the other girls you worked with passed him.

- He quickly snatched the hat from his head as you walked by, eyes seemingly locking onto you even though you were in the middle of a small crowd.

- The two of you met each other’s gaze and without meaning to, your steps began to slow. A small smile found its way onto your face before you hurriedly made your way back to your group. As you reached your friends sides, you spared one last glance at the boy over your shoulder. You were secretly pleased to see that he was still watching.

- Normally Specs wouldn't linger in a selling spot for too long unless it was raking in a good profit. But let’s just say that he had a bit of an ulterior motive when returning to the area.

- Day after day, you would continue to see him while making your way to work. Your friends began to tease you about it, grabbing your arm and giggling in your ear as you passed him. You felt flattered by the attention but you still wondered if he was actually attracted to you and if so, was he ever going to approach you?

- It was after about two weeks that he finally did. You passed his usual selling spot in the morning and found that he wasn’t there. So, with a little dash of disappointment settling in your stomach, you headed off to work and went about your day.

- You walked out the doors of your work at the end of your shift, wiping your hands on your dress and pulling the hair from your face. It was then that you saw him, his body leaned casually against the wall of the building besides yours.

- He kicked himself off of the wall once he noticed you, pulling the hat off his head as he made his way over.

- He tries his hand at a polite, gentlemanly introduction, fiddling with the hat in his hands as he spoke. He “confessed” that he’d been watching you “for a little while now” and explained that he wanted to get to know you more.

- You smiled and agreed, glad that he had finally decided to try his luck with you.

- Your first date was that same day. The two of you walked around town together, getting to know each other and sweetly flirting. By the time you had to return home, you had already promised to see him again the next day.

- The two of you shared your first kiss on your fourth date. You’d been sitting together in one of the many alleyways of the city, recounting different stories from your day when you started to notice him looking closely at your face.

- You ignored it for a while, figuring that he was probably distracted by a smudge of dust or paint, something that often found its way onto your face after a long day. It wasn’t until you began to walk home together that you finally learned that there wasn’t anything on your face.

- The two of you were just about to say goodbye when he hesitated for a minute, glancing down at what you finally comprehended was your lips and asking if he could kiss you. Now, how could you say no to that?

- Pda wasn’t exactly very common back then so the two of you keep your affection to yourselves for the most part. Although the newsies are far less worried about public decency and reputations, Specs in particular is trying very hard to be a gentleman for you; at least in public.

- Forehead kisses as he wraps his arms loosely around you, keeping you close to him.

- Never ending pecks on the lips. He’ll keep moving in for another one unless you push him away.

- He’s sort of a geek compared to his fellow newsies; he doesn't do nearly as many crazy stunts as them. Maybe he’s more mature, …or maybe he’s just less coordinated than everyone else.

- Even though he’s a geek, he still does crazy/ridiculous stuff; he just doesn’t do acrobatics while doing so. Locked yourself out of your house? He somehow knows how to pick a lock. Forgot something somewhere? He’ll run all the way back there to get it for you!

- He’s kinda slow in the reflex department; you’ve been his savior more than a few times. You’re probably one of the only reasons his glasses are still intact.

- Specs is generally pretty polite but he is not a morning person at all. Be careful when attempting to wake him up, you may end up snatched and cuddled against your will or aggressively grumbled at.

- All the newsies would absolutely love cuddling with their girls and you cannot convince me otherwise. Some may be more shy than others but they all secretly love it. Specs typically sleeps/rests on his back so he’s pretty fond of the sweetheart cradle.

- He’s not ashamed of the fact that he likes when you baby him but he’ll get extremely embarrassed if anyone somewhat comes close to guessing that he does.

- He may be a little rough around the edges but he always tries to treat you like a lady; at least when he can help it.

- Getting visits while or after he sells his papers.

- He would genuinely wait around for hours just to be able to spend a little time with you. Get off work at seven? Well he gets off at five but he can stand to wait a little. Its worth it, right?

- People are just used to seeing him sitting on a crate outside your workplace, fiddling with whatever he can find to pass the time.

- He has a habit of holding/playing with things when he’s stationary so expect to have your hand occupied quite often.

- Piggyback rides. It may not be proper for a lady such as yourself but frankly, you don't give a damn and neither does he if you don’t.

- Likes bothering you in that playful boyfriend sort of way. You get teased, poked and prodded, especially when the two of you are alone together.

- He’s always got something to say. The two of you could have a full conversation about literally nothing at all.

- He’s happy to let you lean on him. What’s the difference when it’s a cute girl doing it? He’s used to having the other newsies use him as an arm rest so having his adorable girlfriend resting against him is a welcome change.

- I don’t know if it’s just me; but he looks so much better without his ridiculous top hat on?? Thank god he takes it off around you.

- He doesn’t have much; if any, pocket money so you’re not going to have any expensive dates. That being said, he tries to do something nice with what he has.

- Little love letters filled with misspellings and awful grammar. They may not be the most poetic things in the world but you adore them all the same.

- Walking around town together. You may have seen it all a hundred times before but it seems entirely new when you’re with him.

- Cozying up in secluded corners.

- Refers to you as ‘me old lady’ when talking about you to other people. He doesn’t use too many nicknames when talking with you though. He isn’t a big charmer so he isn’t used to the concept. He probably calls you “missy” jokingly but that doesn’t exactly count as a nickname, does it?

- He both follows your orders and disobeys you like you’re his mother. He’s constantly on that line of I will blindly follow you and I will make you make me.

- He may give you a little shit now and again but he’s a ride or die and thats a fact. When it really comes down to it, he has your back no matter what.

- The newsies may not seem like the most sensitive people in the world but Specs is a bit more empathetic than most. He hates seeing people; especially you, all sad or distressed.

- He may not be the greatest at it but he always tries to comfort or cheer you up in any way he can.

- He’s not used to people really caring about him and his wellbeing so it’s always a shock to him when you worry about his safety or try to take care of him.

- You once brought him some food because you were worried he wasn’t eating enough and he nearly cried. You should have seen his face when you handed it to him; it was like you were giving him a hundred bucks.

- Occasionally you’ll sneak him into your house when your parents aren’t home so he can take a warm bath in a tub that he actually fits in and eat a full meal.

- Sometimes the two of you will walk around town together, pretending that you’re both a wealthy couple. You put on posh accents and look through the windows of shops you could never buy from, boasting about how you’ll get this or that and talking about other “rich person” things.

- He saves up money for an entire year just to be able to buy you a Christmas/birthday gift. Either that or he’ll attempt to make you something, usually some kind of newspaper flower.

- How jealous he gets really depends on who it is that he’s meant to be jealous of. If it’s another newsie flirting then he’ll just tell them to get lost but if its someone with more class than him then he feels more threatened. Why would you chose him over some upper class fellow?

- He may act aggressive with the guy but he’s more reserved and feels like he has to take more shit if the fella decides to get smart. He doesn’t want to be put in the refuge for soaking him if his parents take it up with the law.

- Nearly all of the newsies would be protective of their girls and this trait isn’t lost on Specs. He’ll stare down people he doesn't like, keeping you behind him and puffing out his chest whenever they turn up.

- He’s always keeping an eye out for you and lingering around. He usually isn’t too far from your side when he can help it.

- He always stands behind you as you’re sitting down, holding the back of your chair and keeping a close eye on everything that’s going on.

 - He’s surprisingly fast on his feet and is an arguably good bullshitter/liar which he used for both good and; occasionally, bad causes. He can’t lie to you very well though; you can always see right through him.

- Most of your fights are pretty trivial so it isn't hard for the two of you to makeup. A lot of the time he’ll just forget that you were fighting or what you were fighting about and continue on like nothing happened or admit that he doesn’t even know what you’re supposed to be bickering about.

- You get a ‘love ya’ every time you’re saying goodbye or whenever he just feels the need to say it.

- The two of you will undoubtedly be pretty nervous when introducing him to your parents. The look on his face when you and your father first laid eyes on each other should be framed.

- He’s genuinely ready to spend the rest of his life with you. He’s one of the older newsies too so marriage might be just around the corner; if your folks will allow it.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group. (Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, some mild smut.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: All I can say is: I’m sorry. My head is a strange place.

Chapter 29

  “Marcus!! Oh, get that sweet tush over here and hug me, and you better make it a good one after you’ve neglected to visit my cave for longer than these magic hands care to remember.”

  You already loved Velma.

  “Hey, Vel. I’m sorry, I’ve been preoccupied.”

  He did hug her, and properly too, as well as about 10s longer than what would be considered socially acceptable for mere friends, without either of them seeming to find it weird or awkward at all.   You still loved her.

  “Thank you, my darling. You’re forgiven. Now, tell me what you’ve brought me?”

  He beamed at you. He really did love any opportunity to show you off, but he seemed especially pleased about this introduction.

  “Velma, this is my fiancé. Hermosa, as you’ve undoubtedly gathered – this is the one and only Velma.”

  “Your fi… You’re getting… And you’re here. You brought her to me! Are you…?”

  “Yes. I am. On both counts.”

  “YES!! Thank the Greek fucking Gods!! A wedding-dress, and for you, my darling, of all people! Thank you.”

  “Well, technically it’s for her.”

  “Oh, no, sugar. The dress is for the groom. The shoes – are for the bride.”

  She finally set all of her glorious attention on you.

  Velma was a drag-queen, and the most awe-inspiring individual you’d ever seen. Everything about her was superior. She was taller than anyone else in the room, helped by fucking spectacular plateau shoes, she was broad-shouldered and muscular to boot. She carried herself like an empress, with a kind of stillness and real elegance, despite having so much flare and finesse to her. And even though she was covered in colours and sparkles, she somehow looked like she would belong absolutely anywhere.   And when she actually looked you in the eye, you could almost feel her read the pages of the book that was your life, and yet, there was nothing intimidating about it.

  “Well, now. There’s a lot of story here, isn’t there?”

  “A bit. Yeah.”

  “Mm. Alright then, come with me, darling. I demand to know every little detail about the woman my Marcus has chosen.”

  She turned dramatically, and headed for a side-door in the studio workshop where you were, and you looked at Marcus with a wide grin.

  “She’s coming to the wedding.”

  “Don’t worry – she’s on the list.”

  “I don’t care about any list. She’s coming. I need that amount of sparkle at my wedding. And I’m not just talking about the clothes.”

  He chuckled happily as he watched you literally skip over to the open door, and disappear inside.

-----

  Three weeks later, you finally got around to getting your house sold. It was a fairly quick sale since the neighbourhood was nice and the yard was bigger than most other properties on that street. And since you didn’t really need the extra money, you could give the young couple that fell in love with it, a kind price.   You weren’t really particularly sorry to see it go, but you were very happy to see it fall into the hands of people who would appreciate it. For a long time, that house had been your refuge, your safe harbour when life got hard, and you wished that it could be the same for someone else.   You put the bulk of the money in your savings-account, and ear-marked the rest for wedding-expenses.   There still wasn’t really any actual planning going on, as far as dates and times and venues were concerned. But you and Marcus were still getting through a lot of the stuff that goes on around the actual day.   You’d settled on what colours you wanted for the flowers, and what types they should be. You’d had an almost outrageously fun day last weekend, trying out the recipes for all the wedding-cakes you’d both found online. And after soiling literally every inch of the kitchen with flour, and tasting so many different cakes your taste-buds had eventually given up, you had managed to conclude that you wanted a lemon-flavoured one. Missy had tried to get you onto the chocolate-train, but you’d held your ground, with the promise that there would indeed be chocolate present, just not in the cake.   You’d completed the guest-list, and chosen the invitation cards, but they were safely stowed away in a drawer, still unwritten.   It wasn’t that you were stalling or didn’t feel ready. You were just genuinely enjoying the preparations, and not having that deadline made them feel like they were just fun things to do over a weekend, rather than things you had to do to be ready in time. Especially since Missy loved being a part of it too, it made the whole thing feel like a prolonged family event.

  By now, the only thing that was still on the prep-list was Marcus’ suit, but you’d both agreed not to make any decisions on that until you’d seen what Velma did with your dress.   You’d spent two whole days in her cave, getting your measurements taken and your skin-tone evaluated. There were about a hundred things about your body that she’d wanted to know, but you trusted her with your life already, so you’d happily complied.   Plus; any excuse to spend time with her was a good one.   Work was finally becoming manageable again, as you’d finally caught up on all the stuff that was trailing behind, and you were deliberately keeping any and all new projects firmly steered in other directions or delegating them onto other designers. You had enough on your plate with just getting through the already started ones, on top of the wedding-planning.   Today had been a good day, so far, and you’d decided to go and find Marcus and see if he had time to join you for lunch.   When you approached his office, his door was open and you could hear Tech talking. Not wanting to interrupt, you stopped outside and out of sight, while you waited for their conversation to finish. You picked up your phone to send an e-mail while you waited.

  “I can’t believe that building was still standing after that.”

  “Crushing lost control for three seconds. Let’s just be grateful it wasn’t longer.”

  “Oh, I remember that time back in the beginning when he was out of it for like 20 seconds.”

  “I think most of Colombia remembers that, too.”

  “Probably.”

  “Hey, um. Speaking of losing control…”

  “What?”

  “Well, there’s a certain office on the other side of the building that gets a fair bit of noise-complaints.”

  You snapped out of your e-mailing and instinctively turned your head to listen closer.

  “Stay out of it, Tech.”

  “Hey, I’m not the filing them, and I never will. I’m all for healthy appetites. Just wondering if you’re aware of the fact that a lot of people are talking about you guys?”

  “So? Let ‘em talk.”

  “Sure. But they’re not talking about it being a nuisance or inappropriate. They’re talking about how the hell you can keep it up for three hours straight sometimes. Is that true, though?”

  You weren’t sure if you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, or if you wanted to go find these people and tell them to mind their own business.   There was a brief pause before Marcus answered, and his voice was a bit lower than before.

  “It is. I seriously can’t get enough of her. Ever. No matter how tired I get, I can always go another round.”

  “That’s kind of amazing. How do you ever get anything done?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Any idea when the knot-tying might be happening?”

  “No. I’m dying to do it, to the point where I have to repeatedly tell myself not to just beg her to go to Vegas with me. But I also really wanna get it right, you know? Not necessarily perfect; just right. Right for us. And I want her to feel ready, so that she can just relax and enjoy that day, whenever it happens.”

  Your heart swelled to an almost painful size behind your ribs.

  “I am ready, honey.”

  You stepped over the threshold and watched as his expression turned from confusion to realisation as he saw you.

  “You wouldn’t have to beg. I’d go to Vegas with you right now if you asked. I’ve told you; I don’t really care how it happens. I’m enjoying the preparations and everything we’re doing together, but even if nothing ever got used, I wouldn’t feel like I missed out on anything. You’re the one that wanted the traditions, remember?”

  Tech excused himself at that point, and closed the door behind him after he left.

  “Do you still want all that, Marcus?”

  He looked so torn.

  “Damned it… Yes. I really do.”

  “Then let’s pick a date. Let’s find a place that feels right and let’s make it happen.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Are you ready?”

  He shot up from his chair and was suddenly holding your waist, staring into your eyes.

  “Ah, mi novia, I’ve been ready for a long time.”

  His hands migrated down to your ass, and you let him squeeze you to him. You were wearing a simple blue summer-dress today, and he quickly found his way underneath it, letting his hands run up your thighs and relieve you of your panties.   Then he pulled you along to the sofas, sitting down and urging you to straddle him.   It was almost strange how calm it was. The two of you were always so heated, so passionate whenever you came together, to the point where it was almost always beyond your control, or at least, on the very edge of it.   But this time, there was no tearing at each other’s clothes. No hands desperately grasping, needing and demanding more. No burning heat that made you feel empty and aching until he entered you.   The heat did come, but gradually. With each caress, each tender kiss and each movement of your bodies together, it slowly built from an ember to a flame.   Your walls actually allowed him to move inside you this time, and as you rocked yourself over him, a completely different kind of pleasure to what you’d become used to with him, built inside your core and seemed to reach towards your heart, instead of your sex.   After a while, he turned you both to the side so he could lay you down and settle himself on top of you, and that feeling that was creeping towards your chest, drastically intensified. He drove into you in long, strong thrusts that buried him as deep as your bodies would allow, each time, and his throat made involuntary little sounds of pleasure every time he returned into your wet and welcoming warmth.   It took you nearly thirty minutes to build to a climax this time, and when it finally hit, it was strong in a completely different way than it ever had been before. Your bodies didn’t curl or clench in on themselves, there were no involuntary power-outbursts, no levitation. But it felt like you were underneath each other’s skin. Like your hearts actually melded into one through the intricate contact of your skin and nerves.   It was utterly overwhelming and there were tears streaming from your eyes throughout the whole climax. And they didn’t stop, even after you’d come back down.   There was no pain or sorrow anywhere inside you in that moment, so you concluded that these were tears of pure love and you made no effort to stop them. You just held him close and waited for the feeling to burn itself out.   He burrowed his face into your neck while you laid there, feeling the tears as they passed over onto his cheek on their way down, but making no comment about them. He knew what they were, and it made him love them too.

  You took a late lunch together, and since the pills were working perfectly and the lab had been able to produce several months-worth already, you could enjoy eating like a normal person these days.   Marcus really did miss your stomach-bear, though, and he would occasionally drop comments like ‘this is one of those moments when mama bear would have roared’, and you felt a little bit sorry for him. It was like he’d lost a puppy.   While you ate, you started discussing what places you thought might be nice for a venue.

  “Churches are nice, but a bit… I hesitate to say ‘stuffy’.”

  “Yeah. They feel so formal, like you’re not allowed to have fun, and I really want us and our guests to feel like we’re allowed to have fun.”

  “Definitely. So, what about restaurants?”

  “Not my thing, if I’m honest, hermosa.”

  “I figured. Pavilion?”

  “Now, we’re talking. A big one, with lots of decorations and a dance-floor!”

  “You and your dancing.”

  “Oh, no; you’re the dancer, remember?”

  “And your foxtrot is adequate, but your waltz needs some work.”

  “Thanks. So, do we know of any potentially available pavilions, or are we gonna have to build one?”

  “Don’t you worry about that, sugar-plum, if it’s a pavilion you’re looking for – I know the perfect one.”

  Velma approached your table, wearing an even more daring outfit than last time you’d seen her. As always, she made a show of eyeing Marcus up and down and making appreciative noises to showcase his hunky-ness. And, as always, Marcus just smiled and let her do her thing.

  “Where is it?”

  “Didn’t I just tell you not to worry? I’ll take you to see it later if you want, but for now – I need to borrow your little cherry, here. Time to dolly you up, hon.”

  “It’s finished?”

  “Literally seconds ago. I came to find you right away, I need to see it on you before I can definitively say that it’s done.”

  Marcus beamed at you both while Velma slipped her arm through yours and led you back to her cave.

  Somehow, you’d expected it to be difficult to get into, or at least require assistance, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t a big or flaunty thing, nor was it heavy or complicated in its design. And yet, there was something so special about it.   It was snow-white with a hint of gold to the shimmer in the fabric, to match the rings. It was an off the shoulder style dress, with long sleeves in the most beautiful lace you’d ever seen, that carried over into the body of the dress as well, though it was purely ornamental there, as the actual body was made from satin.   From the waist down, there was no lace, but tiny golden details had been sewn into the satin and it made the dress come alive somehow.   The skirt was cleverly designed, so that it billowed out just a little, but without getting puffy, and it was still just two layers, making it easy to handle and comfortable to move in. There was no train, but she had made you a vail in the same exquisite lace, in case you decided that you wanted one.

  “Oh, my. Honey… I thought it looked gorgeous on the mannequin, but damn! You make this dress.”

  “It’s perfect, Velma. It’s everything I didn’t know I wanted.”

  “Marcus is gonna swoooooon…”

  “He’s gonna love it.”

  “Well, just make sure to have someone strong standing next to him so they can catch him when he inevitably goes down.”

  You just smiled at her.

  “Oh, and thank you for the shoes. You’re right, I’m gonna love these a lot more than the dress before the night���s over.”

  “You got that right, Cherie.”

  You met up with Marcus as soon as you were done in the cave, and the smile that lit up his face when he saw you carrying the special box that housed the dress, shoes and vail, could have put the sparkles in Velma’s very short skirt to shame.

  “You actually have it? It’s finished?”

  “It’s right in here.”

  He looked positively squirmy with anticipation.

  “And it’s even more beautiful than anything you’ve imagined. Trust me.”

  He chuckled.

  “I do.”

  Velma took you out to see the pavilion she’d mentioned, and it really was perfect. It sat on several acres of green lawns and meadows, with a large pond not too far from the structure. You could have the ceremony out on the grass, overlooking the water, and put up a canopy over the tables and chairs for the dinner and cake. And then move over to the pavilion for the dancing and fun-times. There were huge old oak-trees framing the entire area, giving the whole place a bit of a fairy-tale feeling.

  “Marcus, we have to pick a date. We have to find out if this place is available for us.”

  “Oh, don’t you worry about that, honey-bun. It’ll be available whenever you want it.”

  Velma gave you this knowing look and you gawked at her.

  “You own this place?”

  “For a long time now. I only use it for very special occasions, and I don’t go blabbering about it to every Joe and Willy looking for a party-house. But for you, my turtle-doves, it’ll always be available.”

  By the time you went to bed that day, you’d not only picked a date, but completed and sent all of the invitations as well.   You were going to get married on the ten-month anniversary of when you first opened your eyes and saw him by your bedside, which gave you roughly a month to get everything ready. And since you had everything pretty much figured out already, that wasn’t going to be a hard deadline to keep.

  Or, so you thought.

  But the day before the wedding came at you like you’d somehow fallen asleep at the wheel going 200mph down the highway.   Suddenly it was all happening. And while you were totally ready emotionally, you were also just not ready over-all, and you woke up that morning feeling sick. Actually sick.   Marcus was too excited to get more than 4h of sleep per night in the week leading up to that day, but he didn’t want to disturb you, so he’d gotten up and left the bedroom some time earlier that morning.   You walked into the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face but it didn’t do much to alleviate the nausea, so you gave up and just got dressed instead.

  “Hey, alma, are you okay?”

  “Yeah, sweetie, just feeling a little overwhelmed I guess.”

  “You sure?”

  “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. The wedding is happening, come hell or high water.”

  “Good.”

  “Where’s Marcus?”

  “He got called in to work really early, some crisis with a blue-whale, I think.”

  “Okay, well, then I’ll drive you to school.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t just take a sick-day?”

  “I’m not gonna be helped by sitting here wringing my hands all day. Let’s go, Maid of Honour.”

  She smiled at that, but then frowned.

  “You’re not gonna have breakfast?”

  “Kid, I’ll be happy if I can keep the damned pill down this morning.”

  You dropped her off and went to work, intending to treat this like any other Friday. But when you stepped into your office, there was a weird smell that just set off all your senses, and you had to duck over the first available trashcan and vomit. Since your stomach was empty, all that came up was bile, and that somehow made you even more nauseas.

  What the fuck was that smell?

  You abandoned your office and headed for Marcus’ instead. It smelled fine, so you sat down at his computer and used your own login to access your files and get to work.   But after about an hour you’d had to visit his bathroom three times as your stomach continued to try and cough up shit that wasn’t even there, and you gave up, and headed down to medical.

  You had just intended to ask for some anti-nausea medication, but because of your medical history, they insisted on an exam to rule out any possible delayed complications.

  You left medical in a daze, not even realising where you were going before you found yourself back in Marcus’ office.   You sat down in one of the sofas and just waited. You didn’t dare to even try and feel anything without him there, because you were afraid that you might suddenly feel way too much, and you needed him to be there, to keep you calm if that happened.   Some time later, Crushing ducked his head in and had to almost shout to get your attention.

  “Huh… What?”

  “I said, Marcus went home straight from the mission, two hours ago, he had something he wanted to get done for tomorrow. So, there’s no need to wait for him here.”

  “Oh. What time is it?”

  “Almost five.”

  “Shit…”

  “Hey, you okay?”

  “I hope so. Yes. I mean, yes.”

  “Want me to take you home?”

  “No, I’ll be fine, thanks Crush.”

  You drove home being almost ridiculously cautious and you laughed a little at yourself when you parked the car, next to Marcus’.   You were surprised to find the front door locked. You never locked the door when you were home. They must have gone out on foot for some reason.   Fishing your keys out of your bag, you unlocked it and stepped inside, and you were just about to call out to see if anyone was home, when you heard a sound that made every hair on your body stand straight up.   It was a mechanical sound, a machine of some sort. You couldn’t identify it, but your body sure as hell remembered it.   Walking into the living room, a fear unlike anything you’d ever felt before, flooded every cell inside of you.   Your own blood rushing in your ears drowned out the sound of your keys and handbag falling to the floor, as you tried to take in what you were seeing.

  Tubes… wires… computers… machines… bags of liquids… chairs that weren’t chairs but fucking instruments of torture. Two of them. One for Marcus… and one for Missy.   And right in between them – Dr. Prince.

Authors’ Note: I love criticism, don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​ @farfromjustordinary @allmyspideys @hrk-fic-recs @strawberryperegrine @lucrezia-thoughts @computeringturtle @sarahjkl82-blog

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 17

Summary: You see Connor for the first time since New Year’s. You attend the Penguins charity gala as Fred’s date.

Warnings: Smut, light daddy kink, swearing, oral sex

Word Count: 5600

Series Masterlist

Chapter 17

“What are you doing Ollie? You playing with your truck?” Fred asks over Facetime. He is on a road trip and is calling Oliver before he goes to bed. He calls Oliver every night he doesn’t have a game to catch up, sometimes reading him a story. You set your tablet up on the coffee table so Fred can see Oliver without you having to hold it the entire time.

After you put him to bed, you and Fred continue to chat for a bit. You haven’t discussed what happened over the holidays, or the confusing feelings you have been having. You don’t know if Fred feels the same way as you, or if everything is in your head. He has been on a long road trip so you haven’t seen him much to have the conversation in person since New Year’s.

You know that Connor’s flight was delayed due to weather in Minnesota, which is why he cancelled on New Year’s. You still don’t understand why he waited so long in the day to tell you about it. You have talked a little bit, but you haven’t been able to see him. But you aren’t too sure about the status of your relationship, or how you want to proceed with him

“(Y/N)?” Fred calls, you realize you zoned out and he was trying to get your attention.

“Hmm, sorry I zoned out for a bit” you explain shifting your gaze back to the screen.

“Yeah I noticed, got something on your mind?”

“No, just got distracted looking out at the snow” you lie. “What did you ask?”

“Next Wednesday, the 18th, the team has the annual charity event; the Night of Assists Gala. I was wondering if you would be my date?”

“Yeah” a large smile crosses your face “of course I will! What kind of dress do I need?”

“It’s black tie. I’m back in town Friday; maybe we can go shopping for something?”

“Sure, but new dresses come with new shoes” you exclaim.

“Wouldn’t expect anything less” he laughs.

You open the door Friday morning and Fred is standing there two coffees in hand. “Morning” you sing grabbing a coffee from him kissing his cheek. Your face immediately goes red as you head Oliver running to the door squealing “dadda.” Fred moves away from you and scoops him up in a big hug. You use that as an opportunity to back away while Fred has talks to Oliver, he is babbling away barely forming a sentence. Why did I kiss him, what was I thinking?

You walk into the kitchen, with your coffee and stand with your back facing the doorway; you hear Fred’s footsteps enter the kitchen. “How have you been (Y/N)?” he asks sitting down at your island.

You turn around and see Oliver is clinging to him; Fred is bouncing him slightly in his arm. Seeing the two of them side by side you really notice the similarities, even if Oliver had a different hair and eye colour, his bone structure and smile is the same as his fathers.

You still feel your face is slightly red and you bring your cup to your mouth taking a sip, but also trying to hide the colour. “We were good, he had a few rough patches with his teething” you start explaining.

Fred turns to Oliver “oh buddy” he says kissing his head. “Other than that everything was good?”

“Honestly no” you huff and Fred turns his attention back to you. “It was mayhem. Him teething meant he didn’t sleep well, which meant I didn’t sleep well. I ended up getting run down for a couple days.”

“Oh I’m sorry, you feeling better now?” he asks.

“Yeah but there is toys everywhere, and I’m so behind in laundry” you start rambling. You don’t even notice Fred has stood up until you feel his arm wrap around you.

“(Y/N/N) your fine. There is like 4 toys out.” He’s lying, there are easily half of Oliver’s toys scattered around the living room. “And seeing toys on the living room floor only shows me that you have a kid. But I am sorry you were alone through all this, you should have told me.”

You sigh wrapping your arm around him “I know but it wouldn’t have changed anything, you were on a road trip.”

“It still is nice to talk to someone about these things. Even if I can’t help physically, it can help to let your problems out.” Fred says as your arm tightens, as you grip his shirt in your hand. You place your head on his chest, and listen to his heartbeat through his shirt. He is right, but for some reason you weren’t sure if you should tell him, or what that would do. You don’t exactly understand your dynamic and don’t want to complicate this further.

“I know, I’m sorry” you whisper into his chest.

“You’re not alone elskede, you have me. No matter what” he says kissing your head. “I know what will make you feel better though (Y/N/N).”

You look up at him “what?” you ask. You see the bags under his eyes, indicating he didn’t sleep much on the plane but chose to come over early to spend time with both of you.

“Going shopping” he says causing you to laugh.

You walk into a local dress shop, you see rack of colourful dresses, and everything is designer. Oliver is asleep in his stroller, a blanket tightly around him while you and Fred start scanning the selection. Fred pulls out pink dress with puffy sleeves; the skirt is full of feathers. He raises an eyebrow at you and you burst out laughing “that looks like the baby of big bird and little bow peep.”

A half hour later you have picked out about 8 options. You start try the options, both of you not loving them. Each of them is missing something. You’ve been at the store so long Oliver has woken up and is beginning to fuss for lunch.

“One more and then we have to leave and feed this guy” you say. You are standing in a black strapped dress, you thought it would look amazing, but once you tried it on, it didn’t hang off your body right. It doesn’t have a good shape, and looks like a box on you.

“Well make sure it’s amazing then” he replies shooting you a smile while bouncing Oliver on his hip.

You return to the change room and try on the last dress; you purposely saved this one for last. You exit the change room in a navy blue satin backless floor length gown; the front has a deep cut. When you first emerge from the room Fred is staring at Oliver, he hears your footsteps and looks up at you with his brown eyes, his jaw instantly drops.

“Wow, mommy looks pretty eh bud, really, really pretty” he whispers in your sons ear. He walks over to you “way to save the best for last” he says putting an arm around you, kissing your temple.

“Thought you’d like this one” you chuckle. His free hand comes around to the small of your back sending a tingle down to you core. You stare up at him you see the lust in his eyes.

“How could I not? You look incredible” he places a kiss on your cheek. You turn your head slightly and look to him, your eyes locking. You feel yourself slowly moving in to him, closing the gap. Before your lips connect Oliver begins to cry, causing you to separate “go get changed and I’ll pay” he says.

You step out of the store and Fred leads you down the street to a local restaurant. As you sit down, Fred heads to the bathroom. You are getting Oliver set up in a highchair when you hear your name behind you.

You turn around “Connor” you say. He is standing there with a takeout bag in hand; wearing dark jeans with a button down shirt under his jacket. You can see his brown hair poking out from under his toque.

You walk over and hug him “hi, how are you?” you ask.

“Good, this the little man?” he asks looking over at Oliver.

“Yeah that’s him” you say.

“He’s cute” Connor says waving at him.

“Yeah I think so too” you chuckle “although I could be biased.”

“Nonsense. He’s a cutie, not surprising though considering who his mom is.” A blush comes across your face, before he continues “I’m really sorry about New Years. There was a crazy storm earlier in the day and my original flight was cancelled. I was changed to the next flight, but then that one was cancelled last minute too. I feel terrible for leaving you high and dry so late in the night.”

“Don’t worry about it, you can’t control the weather” you reply smiling. “I ended up with some last minute plans, and it ended up being pretty good.”

“That’s good” he says. “What did you get up to?” You stare at him trying to come up with a response and don’t even notice that Fred has returned from the bathroom and is beside you until you feel his left hand on the small of you back.

“Hey” he says, you all stand there for a second.

“This is Fred” you say realizing they are both waiting on an introduction. Fred holds out his right hand, Connor shakes it saying “Connor. Nice to meet you.”

After pulling his hand back he says “I should get going, nice to meet you” he says to Fred. He turns his gaze to you “(Y/N) we should grab dinner sometime soon.”

“Yeah for sure” you say before Connor walks away.

Fred raises an eyebrow at you while you move to the table to sit down “so that’s boy toy?”

You laugh at that while Fred sits beside you “he literally just told you his name.”

Fred scoffs lightly at that. “I see why you haven’t slept with him yet” he says.

“What do you mean? There is nothing wrong with him.”

Fred grins “there is one thing.” You quirk your head at him “oh and what’s that?”

“He isn’t the one sitting here with you today” he whispers in your ear.

You sit there for a minute processing what he said. Out of the corner of your eye you see a large grin on his face; he brings a hand up to your chin. He tilts your face to look at his, and you search his face for answers, his hand lightly slides up from your chin and cups your cheek. He hesitantly looks into your eyes before leaning in, bringing his lips to yours in a soft kiss.

January 18, 2023

Tonight is the charity event; you are at Fred’s getting ready. You put on the dress, and have your hair loosely curled, as you spray a little perfume on you. You just need your shoes, opting to wear the shoes Fred bought you for your birthday. They are in your bag, which is in Fred’s room.

You walk out of the bathroom and lean on the door frame between to the bedroom staring at Fred. He is in his navy 3 piece suit, has a skinny tie under his vest and is putting his cufflinks on, you sigh taking him in causing him to look up.

“Christ you look amazing” he says a smile coming across your face as you walk over to him.

You run a finger over his jacket “you don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Andersen.” You reach down and grab the cufflinks and help him put them on before reaching up to straighten his tie.

“I am nothing compared to you” he says kissing you on the corner of your lips. “You’re missing something though” he whispers in your ear. He walks away to the closet and comes back a moment later with a beige shoebox.

“I didn’t get a chance to wrap them” he says handing it to you, you immediately see the large white signature on the outside and recognize the brand.

“You didn’t have to get me these, I was going to wear the shoes you bought me for my birthday” you explain.

“Oliver bought you those” he replies smiling. “These are from me.”

You laugh at him and roll your eyes before opening the box; you first see the bright red inside lining to the box. Your eyes are next drawn to the shoes, a new pair of white Louboutin. They have a 3 inch heel, with a slender strap and a pointed toe. It has an elegant bow with a signature red bottom.

“They are beautiful” you say sliding them on. They look stunning and complete the look perfectly.

“Not nearly as beautiful as you” he says before placing a kiss lightly on your lips. He moves to  deepen the kiss but you pull away. “You’re going to smudge my lip gloss” you explain bringing your hand up to wipe some off his lips; Fred rolls his eyes at you. “Besides you don’t want to start something you can’t finish” you say smirking.

“When have I never finished?” he asks while you laugh walking out of the room.

You walk in to the event hand in hand, and head over to the table. The dinner is being served, so you are sitting in your seats enjoying time together before Fred gets pulled away into conversations with donors. Kathy has been giving you questioning glances from across the table. You are done the second course, waiting for desert to be served; Fred’s large hand is lightly resting on your thigh. His thigh remains there throughout the remainder of dinner. Throughout dinner you randomly feel Fred give your thigh a light squeeze, or he will whisper in your ear. Everything he is doing is intoxicating to you, and all you want to do is take him into a locked closet.

A little while later the boys are off in conversations with some of the donors, you and some of the wags are sitting around a table chatting. You feel hands graze your shoulder; you look up to see Fred in his form fitted three piece suit. Your breath catches in your throat, he leans down and holds his hand out, his mouth grazes your ear “dance with me” you grab his hand and are led to the dancefloor.

He places one hand on the small of your back, as you place one on his shoulder. He holds you tight as he leads you around the dancefloor, you breathing in his cologne. “I don’t know if I told you this yet, but you look stunning tonight.”

You laugh lightly “you might have mentioned it once or twice.”

“Well you are absolutely breathtaking. I can’t keep my eyes off you” he says, his lips kissing the side of your temple. You tilt your head to look at his brown eyes; you both stare at each other for a little while as you spin around the dance floor.

He slowly brings his face to yours, closing the gap between you. He lightly kisses you on the lips, your hand slides from his shoulder to the back of his neck. Fred leans in slightly further, deepening the kiss, his hand slides slightly lower resting just above your ass. You moan into the kiss, feeling a fire ignite in your core as your tongue dances in his mouth.

“Did I tell you how amazing you look tonight?” you ask pulling back slightly.

“You’ve seen me in a suit before; pretty sure you’ve seen me in this suit. I don’t get to see you like this often. I very much like this dress” he says spinning you. He pulls you in closer to himself this time and you feel his erection pressed up against your stomach “I’ve been like this since I saw 4 hours ago.”

“Fuck” you mumble causing Fred to laugh. “I will never tire of seeing you in a suit” you say lightly as his hand slides lower to just above your ass. You gulp “how much longer do we uh” you trail off as he starts placing light kisses behind your ear “have to stay?” His hand is now fully placed on your ass as he chuckles lightly “just a little bit longer” he whispers. Kathy is smirking at you from across the floor as she dances with Sidney. Your hand tangles into his hair as you lock him in a passionate kiss; Fred pulls back and whispers “don’t start something you can’t finish” he grins as he uses your words against you. You laugh and place your head on his chest and dance until the song finishes.

Shortly after Fred and some other players gets pulled on stage for a team event. You and Kathy are standing at the bar waiting for a drink “so how long has this been going on? When did you guys get together?” she asks.

“Honestly I don’t know if we are together. We haven’t talked about it. I still stay at my place a lot of the time. We sometimes hook up but we haven’t discussed what we are doing. I don’t know if this is still just sex, or what he is feeling. It’s all complicated and confusing.”

“You can’t honestly think this is just sex? You have to see how he looks at you.” She pauses for a second giving you a chance to reply, when you don’t she continues “has this ever been just sex with you?” she asks.

“I don’t know it’s all been confusing” you sigh. “He was dating Danielle and I was with Connor, and…” “And you guys were hooking up then.” she cuts you off. You stare at her for a bit “Besides him and Danielle were over a while ago, I don’t even know if they ever were really together. Are you still seeing him, Connor?”

“I don’t know. He bailed on me for New Years; then I saw him last week when the three of us were out for lunch. He said he wanted to meet up for dinner sometime soon but I haven’t talked to him since.”

“Do you want to keep seeing him?”

“Honestly” you pause and take a breath “no I don’t think so.”

“And why is that?” she asks.

“Yeah why is that?” you hear as a body presses up behind you, arm resting on the bar. You immediately recognize the cologne, your cheeks burn up “uhh” you sputter “I have to pee” you claim. You move to walk away but Fred turns you into his chest, he grins seeing the blush on your face. He kisses your cheek before whispering in your ear “I like it when you’re flustered. Want to get out of here?” You see the lust in his eyes and smile before leaning in to kiss him lightly. You nod before you make your way to get your coats.

“You have fun tonight?” he asks while sitting at a red light.

You look over at him with a smile “yeah, I really did. You?”

“Yeah. I plan on having more fun once I get you home” he says looking at you from the corner of his eye. You feel our core heat up as you shift slightly in your seat. Fred chuckles pleased with how his words are affecting you.

Instead of answering you bring your hand onto his thigh and shift it up his leg, smirking. Your pinky lightly grazes over his member, feeling his still hardened bulge underneath his dress pants.

You grin at him slightly, before palming over him a few times. You see him take a couple deep breaths before he brings a hand from the steering wheel to yours, clamping it around your wrist. He puts your hand back on your lap and returns his to the steering wheel. This doesn’t stop you, instead it encourages you. You bring your hand back over to him, directly to his bulge as you palm him. You get in a couple rubs before he grabs your wrist and returns it to your lap. He lightly taps it a few times, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

You smile and bite your bottom lip. You sit there for a few minutes as Fred continues to drive, holding your hands in your lap. Fred eventually relaxes while driving; he pulls up to a red light and returns his right hand to the steering wheel. He drives for a few minutes before you slide your hand back to his thigh. You start palming his bulge, grinning at him as you hear him mutter a light “fuck.”

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the road, but you see him catching glances from the corner of his eye. Your hand moves up to his belt to undo it and the button on his pants. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles going white. You palm over his pants, and see him strain, his Adam’s apple gulps.

You slip your hand in, over his boxers and palm over him feeling his erection straining in his boxers. You turn in your seat your back now against the door, you continue rubbing him, and you slide your hand up his chest under his shirt. You feel the grooves of his abs and a few beads of sweat that have dripped down him. You slide your hand down toying with the elastic of his boxers “Fuck (Y/N/N)” he mumbles.

He shifts in his seat taking clearing his throat as your hand slips inside his boxers. You slowly slide your hand to his shaft and begin stroking him, using your thumb to spread the pre-cum. You begin to push his pants and boxers down, attempting to free him and provide you more access.

He reaches down and grabs your wrist “you need to behave” he growls bringing your hand to your lap. He keeps a tight grip on your wrist and doesn’t release it until the car is parked in the garage. When he gets out of the car Fred fixes his suit and leads you to the elevator, his hand resting on the small of your back.

The elevator closes and Fred pins you against the wall, spreading your legs with his knee. He grips your hair and pulls it back exposing your neck; his mouth attaches sucking a mark. “You were bad in the car” he says “such a fucking brat.”

“What are you going to do about it?” you groan.

“So many things” he spits out biting your neck “so many things.” The elevator dings and he steps out. You enter his place you walk to his bedroom while Fred says goodbye to Christie the nanny. You go into his bedroom closet and remove your dress hanging it up in the closet. You reach into your bag and put on your black lace garter set and put your silk robe overtop. You open the door and walk into the bedroom to see Fred has removed his suit jacket, folding it over his chair.

You walk over pulling him by his vest closer to you, before pushing it off his broad shoulders. He kisses you as he unties your robe, sliding it off your shoulder revealing your lingerie. “Fuck" he mutters as he deepens the kiss bringing his hand around your back “I thought you would approve” you say kissing him. You bring your hands up his chest and undo the buttons on his dress shirt and loosen the tie around his neck.

Before you have a chance to take his shirt off he growls “hands and knees on the bed now.”

You agree feeling wetness pooling, you walk to the bed, getting into position you stick your ass out for him. He immediately rids himself of his pants, he comes behind you and grazes your ass as you shutter. He brings a hand to slap your ass “you were so bad earlier” he spits out bringing another hand to your ass. You wince slightly “such a bad girl, we could have been hurt.”

You turn your head, looking at Fred over your shoulder. He looks amazing. His dress shirt is unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders, sweat dripping down on his abs. You can see how tight his blue boxers are, his erection straining inside the fabric waiting to be freed. “I trust you” you whisper.

He smirks at you as his hand begins stroking your ass, playing with the lacy fabric before he smacks your ass again causing you to curse loudly. “Such a fucking slut” he spews, before he smacks your ass once more. This one is harder than the others, causing a tear to catch in your eyes as a whimper leaves your mouth. You feel yourself soaking through the lingerie.

He brings his hand to slap you once more a yelp leaves your mouth. “You were so bad earlier” he strokes the fabric over ass “think you learned your lesson?”

He begins sliding his finger up the inside of your thigh, and pinches your ass when you don’t respond right away. Your voice is caught in your throat but you manage to squeak out “yes daddy.”

“Fucking hell” he mumbles running his finger over your clothed core, feeling the wetness that has collected.

Fred smirks “you need this eh” he asks, sliding your bottoms to the side and pushes two fingers inside your folds. “You have no idea” you respond while he fucks his fingers inside of you. His fingers curl inside you hitting your G-spot, he pumps them in and out of you quickly. He pulls his fingers from you and drops his boxers, his cock springing free as he sits down on the bed pulling you onto his lap.

You climb into his lap and he guides you onto him, pushing your underwear to the side. He starts a fast pace, not allowing you to fully adjust as you cry out, gripping his shoulder tightly. He picks up the pace, pushing fully inside you, bottoming out every time, the sound of your skin flapping and moans fill the room.  You move in unison, rising up and dropping down on him, your hands laced in his hair. His hands are on your hips, pulling you down onto him “Freddie” you moan loudly as your head falls onto his shoulder.

Fred places kisses on your collarbone and neck as you feel your walls begin to tighten as Fred slows the pace. You groan in disappointment at him “you were bad, you don’t get to yet” he spews in your ear. He brings a hand up to your mouth; he slips two fingers in your mouth. You bob on them, coating them in spit. He pulls them from your mouth and goes to your ass.

You bite his shoulder as he slowly slides them in your hole. He stills for a second allowing you to adjust, you suck on his neck. Fred slowly starts to thrust in and out of your hole, as you bite harder on his shoulder. You rise up and drop down on him, as he thrusts slowly into your hole. Fred allows you to set this pace, since you are being stretched in two different directions. You grip his hair tightly, rolling back further onto his fingers.

He starts increasing the pace and it has you screaming out as he keeps thrusting, each time bottoming out. You feel your walls begin to tighten your orgasm approaching you again. He keeps his pace, thrusting in both your holes as you clench around him.

“Fred I’m gonna cum” you say as your head falls back.

“No” he growls. You whimper, not sure if you can hold it in yet.

“Please daddy, let me cum” you groan.

“Not yet” he says before bringing his mouth to your nipple. He sucks and swirls on it as your head falls back. He brings his mouth up and attaches to your neck and bites hard on and keeps moving his hand in and out of your ass. You roll your hips against him “I can’t” you moan out, unsure how long you can hold back.

You are a writhing mess doing everything to hold your orgasm in. You feel Fred start to get sloppy underneath you when he finally growls “cum.”

You tighten around him as your orgasm crashes over you, it is intense and you lose control of yourself. Fred holds you steady, keeping the pace as your hands dig into his shoulder. Your eyes roll back into your head while a string of moans and curses fall from your lips, Fred is pumping erratically under you.

When you finally come back around you look at Fred, his face is strained as he is waiting for your orgasm to finish. You feel Fred’s dick twitch as he pulls you down shooting his load deep inside you. 

You sit on him as he slowly stills, you press your forehead to his, kissing his nose. Your head falls onto his shoulder for a few minutes as your breathing steadies. He gently lifts you up and pulls out of you before falling onto the bed, pulling you with him.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder looking up at him, his strong arm wrapped around you. You gently stroke his beard; he turns to look at you. You lean up and cup his face kissing him lightly. Fred pulls you in closer, deepening the kiss. Your hand slides into his hair, you crawl up him as his hand slides onto the small of your back. You groan into the kiss as Fred rolls you over onto your back, he brings a hand to your breast pulling the fabric down. He sucks on your nipple, swirling his tongue around it.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, as he keeps sucking. You feel him grow hard again, his erection pressing into your stomach. He moves down and places a kiss on your stomach, his hand slides around to your ass, playing with the hem of your bottoms. He places a light kiss on you as you wrap a leg around his back “you have another one in ya?”

His hand is on your ass. You whimper slightly before nodding, biting your bottom lip. He kisses your neck as he mumbles into your ear “you sure, the last one was pretty intense?”

“Freddie” you groan.

He smirks as he hooks his finger through your bottoms and pulls them off you as he places soft kisses on your stomach. He slowly pushes two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out, his cum spills out in the process. He sucks on your clit, as he continues to scissor you. His thumb presses firmly into you clit, rubbing circles on your bud.

He moves his mouth and slips them inside your folds, licking up your walls. Your hands slide down to his hair, lightly tangling with it.  After several slow thrusts, he pulls his mouth away and his fingers out and pushes them in your mouth. You moan at the taste “we taste good together, eh babe?” he grins as you lick him clean. You suck his fingers clean before he pulls them out of your mouth.

“Yes” you whisper.

He slides lower, his beard rubbing against your thighs. He looks into your glistening cunt, before diving in, licking up your remaining juices. You throw your head back “so fucking good” he mumbles before returning to lick you.

He brings his fingers back down and pushes them inside you, curling them to hit your sweet spot as he nibbles your thighs. He uses his fingers to scissor you open before sliding his tongue in you. Your hips arch pushing your cunt into his face. He throws his other arm over your waist to hold you firmly in place while he pushes his tongue in and out of you.

Your hands grip the sheets firmly as you try to squirm, his pace increases, mouth and fingers moving in tandem. You feel your second orgasm quickly approaching

“Like this princess?” 

“Yes” you scream as he pushes deep in you. He thrusts inside you at a fast pace, you moan loudly. “So good. So close” you groan.

You feel him smirk from between your legs, as he pushes his head in further. His beard is scraping your legs, likely leaving a friction rash. You throw your legs over his shoulder, as he pushes his finger into your bud as his tongue licks deep inside you. Your orgasm comes over you fast and hard, you feel yourself clench around his fingers and tongue, your vision goes black for a moment.

He wraps an arm around you as he collapses pulling you onto your side. After a few minutes he carries you to the bathroom setting you on the counter. He strips your bra off and grabs a damp towel and begins to clean you. “You’re so beautiful” he says pulling a t-shirt over you, lightly kissing your forehead. He carries you back to bed and strokes your hair whispering Danish in your ear as you doze off.

 Gala Dress:

Lingerie:

Next Chapter

[nabrizoya]

A month and half ago, I remember being unable to sleep, wondering about how to write for prompts if I did start accepting them. This was an idea I had come up then, something heartwarming and satisfying. Also, @princesslucretia remember I told you about how I’d already written something akin to your ideas? 

Ballroom Introductions. 

It was in the ballroom perhaps, Lucie thought now, lost in the progress that every month endured, of all the days that had slowly gone by in the year. Could she particularly pinpoint?

She sat with little Alexander, keeping him company at the farthest corner of the room. Lucie had danced quite a bit with Matthew and a few other gentlemen who had asked; except one, though she chided herself for even thinking about it. The evening was satisfactory—all happy faces everywhere, though if she looked deeper, she would be able make out the lines of loss and mourning under them. A lifetime too was short to grieve for all those everybody had lost in the Shadow War. 

Lucie engaged Alex in a gripping story, encapsulating wonder, terror and excitement in an impulsive story she had conjured out of thin air. Alex was amused, especially at the involvement of the soft circus ball, his new and most treasured toy. She personified the ball’s abilities, describing its magical properties and how it went on to become a hero when a pirate ship had begun to attack its island of toys. Her heart swelled with joy when he laughed at the bits she narrated with mirth. 

At one point, Alex just stared at her in wonder and confusion until she realised he had been staring at a point behind her. Perplexed, she turned to face her intruder, her heart stopping for a moment at the piercing green gaze. She regained her composure and smiled. “Hello, Jesse.”

She looked back at Alexander who was now eyeing Jesse skeptically. She waved in his face, just as Jesse bent down on his knee next to her, facing his cousin. Alex’s gaze trailed from him to her, his hands outstretched towards her. She pulled him into her lap and introduced him to Jesse. 

“Jesse?”

She ruffled his soft hair, hair akin to his cousin’s. “Yes, Alexander. Will you introduce yourself to your cousin?”

Alex remained silent. She watched him frown, still gaping at Jesse. Jesse met her eyes, all fear and apprehension. She noticed how his hair was longer now, completely covering his ears unlike before. His face wasn’t as pale but there were still shadows under his eyes, combed with his want to be introduced to his youngest cousin yet unsure of how. 

“Cousin?” Alex said finally. She gave Jesse a reassuring smile and bent to her side to face Alexander. 

“Correct. Thomas? Thomas is your cousin. Eugenia? Barbara-” her throat ached, “just how they are your cousins, Jesse too is one, Alex.”

“Tom,” he said sullenly, his face sour. She recalled Thomas taking his licorice away stating it had been his fifth for the day. Lucie nodded. 

“Tom, Euvy and Babbara,” he narrated. Lucie hugged him tighter. Looking at Jesse, she added, “Jesse.”

Jesse glanced at her, momentarily fazed. He smiled then, confidence in his posture and he gestured his gloved hand forth. “Jesse Blackthorn, sir,” he said, and took off his beret, bowing in a flourish. “Pleased to meet you.”

Lucie found herself smiling at that. Alexander gaped at him and looked at her, confused. “Go on, Alex. He’s very glad to have met you finally!”

“Not Pirate?”

She laughed. “No, you silly. Definitely not. Go on, now. It is impolite to keep a gentleman waiting.”

It was with some hesitation that Alex put his hand forth. “Alexandwer,” he said solemnly. Jesse took it confidently and shook his cousin’s small yet firm hand, contained ecstasy breaking out on his face. Alex hopped off Lucie’s lap, disconcerting Lucie momentarily from thinking how well Jesse had managed his introductions. People from the Enclave and around the world had flocked the London Institute to celebrate the victory in the Shadow War. They had all looked at him warily yet he was so confident and firm when he spoke, the air of surety in his walk and posture. He looked dapper in his new clothes, a wonderful frock coat adorning over his white shirt and a regal earthen waistcoat. It was subtle and simple, yet Jesse looked breathtaking. 

“Alex-” but Alexander was standing well on his feet, his posture mirroring his cousin’s. He titled his chin higher, much to both of their amusement. In that moment she could see how much the two of them resembled one another. They had the same stance as that of Gabriel, though the eyes gave their secrets away. “Alexandwer Lightwood,” he announced and mimicked Jesse’s bow. Lucie gave a startled laugh at that but Jesse only smiled wider. She felt her heart flutter at his radiant smile that seemed to light up an already bright room. Alex turned to face her, his cheeks now bright red and rushed into the crowd. 

Alarmed, Jesse got up to follow him but Lucie stopped him, standing up too. “He’s shy,” she said. “New introductions do tire him but you shouldn’t be worried.” At his look of confusion, she elaborated. “You seem to have made a fascinating first impression on him, Mr. Blackthorn,” she said, blushing at the awkwardness of addressing him differently. 

“I should hope so,” he gazed after Alexander, who was now tugging at the tail of his father’s coat. Gabriel picked him up with the ease of a father, his gaze confused until he retracted his son’s tracks and saw Jesse and Lucie. He smiled at them and turned away. 

“You have. I promise.”

They gazed collectively at the faces in the ballroom. The night was coming to a close yet nobody made any sign of farewell. When she finally looked at Jesse, she found him already looking at her. “I, uh, I’ve been looking for you.”

Lucie felt her stomach drop. “What for? I’ve been here this whole time.”

Jesse continued to stare at her, his lips pursed. He finally said, this time looking away, his cheeks red. “I wondered if you could do me the honour of this dance, Miss Herondale.” He met her gaze, sharp yet uncertain. Lucie could see the tension in his shoulders, the way the vein throbbed against his throat in apprehension. 

She blushed this time, though she didn’t look away. “You’re nervous,” she pointed, reverting to their constant innocuous bickering ways. Jesse’s shoulders slumped in relief at that, a smile overpowering his face. 

“Of course I am!” He gestured around the room, at the faces covering up the traces of pain, sheathed under the dimness of the light. “It is exhausting, akin to your observation about Alexander earlier, to make introductions.”

“Not to forget that you are quite literally a revived corpse.”

“My sources tell me you are not going to stop throwing that in my face until I die again,” he commented dryly. “Not that I mind, but I think repetitive gets bland.” 

Lucie laughed at that. “Well, I can assure you that you shall not be hearing the end of it, certainly. Though I believe there are more pressing matters to attend at the moment.”

“Such as?”

She put her hand forth, the way gentlemen did when they asked their partners or any agreeable stranger for a dance. “May I have this dance, Jesse Blackthorn? Former dead-ee, Current living person?”

Jesse’s laughter, lively and rich, was a sound unlike any melody in the room. She puffed out her cheeks in an attempt to conceal her smile until Jesse put his hand in hers. “I believe in no form of formality, you see,” she added as they made their way over to the dance floor. Lucie noticed how their hands shifted- it would seem as though Jesse had been the one to outstretch his hand to ask her out, and Lucie pondered briefly about that. It felt intimate in every slight bit.

“Though perhaps it is better you say that you assume that no bureaucratic formality remains between us, given that society works on norms,” he said, turning her around. “And I know you would disagree with me here.” 

“Perhaps I’ll let you have the agency this time of being right; I do think so.”

Jesse almost did a double take. “You do?” 

“Oh yes, I’m surprised too,” she laughed at Jesse’s wariness. “Who knows, you could possibly be my voice of reason sometimes.”

“I’m humbled, Miss Herondale. The utmost honour,” he bowed with a smile. 

“Let me do you another honour, if that be the case,” she grinned, mirroring his. “If we still- no, if you still put up with the formalities.”

Lucie was right, Jesse thought; the air of formality between them as though they were strangers was not a particularly welcoming idea. They knew each other a little too well, he assumed. One could not pin it on an exact moment, but it felt like a lot to reverse or start from scratch. It was lost in the progress that every month endured, of all the days that had slowly gone by in the year of spending time with each other. He didn’t mind, though quickly added, knowing what she had meant. “Don’t step on my toes,” he warned.

"And here I thought I could be discreet,” she grumbled good-naturedly, leaving them to each other’s silent laughter. The world faded to the shadows around them. For once, Lucie didn’t mind the darkness, if it brought light with it. And from enough stories she’s read, she knew it did.  

[nose-bandaid]

bloom ✿ pt.5 — jonquils

Kino (Hyunggu) x (female) Reader | flower shop AU

february 27th jonquils — love me, sympathy, desire for affection to be returned

introduction | part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | epilogue

taglist: @yunwoo​

feel free to send me an ask or a dm if you wanna be added to the taglist:D

=====

You didn’t see Hyunggu for almost two weeks after the rose incident, and as you expected, you didn’t get a single message back from him either. While you reasoned with yourself that he most was most likely just not in the need for flowers (a reasonable explanation), a part of you worried that he would never visit again. What else were you supposed to think? He literally disappeared from your life without a word, and his friend’s comments didn’t make the situation any better.

By now, you were coming to terms with the fact that things between you and him had died down, and channelled more focus onto your work in hopes of getting over the reoccurring thoughts of him. It wasn’t worth it. Clearly he wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon (and neither were you, really), and so you decided that it would be best for you to just put it aside and think about more important things instead. Your messy feelings could wait.

Today your shift started later than usual, and you were able to score yourself some extra sleep and a good lunch — a nice change from your usual morning shifts. And to be honest, you felt pretty content despite all of the worries running around in your mind. Refreshed and relaxed, you had a good feeling for the day that was about to come, and happily pushed open the door to the shop.

Only to walk straight into someone.

“Ah—!”

“I’m so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” You apologized, rubbing your nose to ease the pain.

“No, no, don’t worry about—“

You locked eyes with the person in front of you and felt each other freeze for a moment.

“Oh... Hyunggu... Hey.” You gave him a quick smile and the person standing beside him let out a shocked gasp.

“You’re the girl right?”

“Excuse me?” You turned to the other voice and took in his appearance. He was stunningly tall with a noticeably broad posture which for some reason, made you think of the small tree you had growing in your backyard. Maybe it was the hair? Or maybe his shoulders? Or the way he looked at you with his lost, curious eyes? Whatever it was, you had to stifle a giggle at the thought and made a mental note to take another look at the tree when you got home.

“Y/n, was it? You’re the girl that Hyunggu never stops talk—“ The person in question was quick to cover the tall boy’s mouth, loudly shushing him.

“Shinwon if you don’t shut your mouth right now—“ His muttering trailed off into a harsh glare.

Not wanting to stay in the awkward conversation any longer, you slipped past the fighting friends. As you scurried away from the scene, you locked eyes with Seungkwan, who was currently pruning some of the bonsai trees and immediately melted in comfort at the familiar face.

“Hey, Boo.” You greeted, and the other ceased his detailed trimming to give you a wave. From the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed the little encounter you had at the entrance.

“Hey! How have things been?”

You looked behind you at the two boys who were now talking to each other in hushed voices. “Er... Same as usual I guess. You?”

He gave you an exasperated look and picked up the shears again. “Josh was dumb and didn’t tell me that I had some orders to complete, so guess who’s overloaded with work today!” His cheerful voice dripped with the feeling of apathy, devoid of emotions. “Do you mind taking care of the customers for a while? I was waiting for you to come before I went to the back.”

As much as you didn’t want to interact with Hyunggu at all, you couldn’t say no to Seungkwan’s request. The poor guy seemed so stressed that day, you ushered him away from the bonsai without any second thoughts. Giving you a quick hug, he made some last arrangements to the plants before bustling his way to the back with a huff. 

You stared at the plants and childishly hoped that they would strike up a conversation to keep you busy, but they refused to say a word (as they should). Sighing to yourself, you decided to at least pretend you were doing something. Anything to occupy your restless attention.

You didn’t know how you were expected to react to suddenly seeing Hyunggu out of the blue, and from the looks of it, he wasn’t expecting to see you either. He didn’t even seem like he wanted to be here in the first place, and you wondered why he risked this visit after putting so much effort into avoiding your messages. 

Despite trying your best to just focus on the task at hand, you still ended up watching their movements in the corner of your eye. They continued to argue for a couple more minutes and then finally decided on some flowers to settle with. Panic filled your body with every step they took towards the counter up until the very last step that took them to the front and the other boy — Shin... Shinwon was it? — glanced your way. You didn’t know how many minutes had passed since Seungkwan left you, but you silently hoped that it was enough for him to come back and save you from this situation.

Though of course, not everything you wish for happens so easily.

“These are jonquils, right?” A curious voice pulled you out of your sulking, and you followed the finger that pointed towards the yellow flowers sitting on the table nearby.

You looked at the tall boy in surprise, most people would’ve just thought they were daffodils and called it a day (which wasn’t exactly wrong, but it wasn’t exactly correct either). “Yes they are! Not many people are able to identify them like that, I’m impressed.”

He shot you an embarrassed look as you reluctantly made your way over to the cash. “I was up ‘till 5 am watching youtube videos... and let’s just say you can learn a lot of things within a span of five hours.”

“I see.” You hummed. The conversation died down and the rest of the exchange was done in silence. Every so often, Shinwon would give Hyunggu a knowing glance and you waited for the latter to say something, but he didn’t even utter a single word of goodbye before leaving. His friend, on the other hand, returned your confused look and apologized for some odd reason, before tagging along.

You just stood there, watching the two boys cross the street before disappearing behind a corner. As they did, the clouds in the sky passed over the sun, casting an ominous darkness over the shop.

“The weather’s a bit gloomy today isn’t it?”

You bit back the harsh words you wanted to throw at Seungkwan for arriving right after the moment you needed him. The weather wasn’t the only thing that was gloomy right now, but you also knew that it wasn’t his fault that you were in this situation. You swallowed down the spite building up in you.

“Yeah, it sure is.”

He seemed to have sensed your distant tone. “Everything alright? The plants didn’t bully you did they?”

You laughed at the coincidence, if only the bonsai had started a conversation with you a while ago, then maybe you’d have something better to talk about. You pondered over your response for a second.

“You ever just really want to see someone, but at the same time, you silently hope you wouldn’t run into them anytime soon? Like that awkward, I-want-to-spend-time-with-you-but-also-not, kinda feel?”

He hummed at your question. “I think I know what you’re getting at.”

“Do you, now?” You quirked an eyebrow in his direction.

“Yeah, so there’s this really cute barista at the cafe down the street at my house, and when I say cute, I mean really cute. Anyways,” He dismissed your giggles at his passionate description.”I went there yesterday ‘cause, you know, I need my iced americano to get through the day. The last time I saw this barista, I dropped my wallet and spilled my change all over the ground because I was so caught up in looking at—stop laughing—looking at the way she seemed so cute with the bow she had on. Guy behind me got mad for holding up the line, but like, whatever cause I made her smile! Which was amazing!”

He paused for some dramatic effect.

“...Until I spilled my drink onto the counter when she handed it to me. So then, now not only was she smiling at me but now she was LAUGHING at me. She still made me another drink but I didn’t think I would be able to look at her in the eye for the rest of year. But then guess what? Of course she has to be the only one at the cash when I went yesterday, and of course, she remembered me for the incident.” He groaned and muttered into his hands. “I didn’t even get her name or her number, I just ran out when I got my drink.”

You looked at him with a mixture pity and amusement in your eyes. Seungkwan never failed to brighten your days, no matter how gloomy they may be. His positive attitude followed him everywhere, work included, and you were grateful for that. 

“Not to make this about me though, sorry about the rant.” Finally recovering, he gave you a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Is everything ok with you?” He repeated.

You nodded absentmindedly. “You know what — yeah, everything’s alright. I think I just needed to get my mind off some things and your rant helped with that. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

The two of you shared a brief smile until he spoke up. “Okay, then how about we go grab ourselves come drinks at that cafe when our shifts are over? I’ll treat you for the help back there, and maybe it’ll help you distract yourself.”

“You really don’t have to do that—”

“Hey, c’mon, what are friends for? Besides, we haven’t really been able to catch up on each other for the past while. I miss hearing about all the tea you have to spill.” He nudged your side gently and you finally gave in with a happy sigh.

“Okay, okay, sure, let’s do that.” You agreed, which earned you a smile of approval.

As you watched him check out the results of your work on the bonsai trees (they were practically his children, so he was pretty picky on how they looked), you began to wonder to yourself — will it ever be possible for you to be more like him? Seungkwan always kept his composure along with a positive mindset, and you were a bit jealous of his ability to put things behind him in order to move forward. If only you could do that with your case with Hyunggu...

“If we do run into that cute barista though,” He suddenly piped up. “I’m giving you the responsibility of getting her name and number for me. That’s my only request.”

“Is that so? Then I might as well be the one taking her on a date then, if I’m going through all that effort.” You smirked, feeling much better after your chat with Seungkwan.

“Wha—Y/NNNNN!”

=====

hi please look forward to part 6, i’m truly grinding these updates hehe;)

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 4

A/N: As promised here is the next part! Hope you guys enjoy it!

I woke up and tried to stretch but I wasn't able to. I was confused for a minute until I remembered William stayed over. I turned in his arms to be greeted by his sleepy smiling face. His eyes were closed but he was still so cute.

"Morning lovely." He mumbled.

"Morning Willy." I kissed his cheek and he opened one eye to look at me. "You're so cute. Sorry that just came out without thinking."

"Don't be sorry." He said beaming. "I want to know what you're thinking."

"You always say that but I'm pretty sure you don't."

"I do though. Why do you say that? Is it bad?"

"No absolutely not! I wouldn't be thinking bad or mean things about you. I think you're lovely."

"You're lovely." He said,  pulling me closer to kiss me softly. "I want to know what goes on in your mind."

"There's something about you that makes me think I couldn't keep my mouth shut if I tried."

"How come?"

"You do this thing..I told you about it before, but you do this thing where you just look at me with these warm eyes and speak softly and it kinda just short circuits my brain. I just lose total control over what I say. I'm sorry, is that completely dumb?"

"It's not dumb. I'm sorry I have that effect."

"I'm not. It feels good. My brain just doesn't fucking work. Most people would say that's normal though."

"I don't think so. You're far too intelligent." He smiled and brushed my hair aside. I leaned in and kissed his lips a little harder than we had shared before he didn't respond though and pulled away. I blushed dejectedly.

"Far too intelligent.. yeah right. Not feeling very intelligent right now. I'm sorry."

"Don't be! I just don't want to lose control with you."

"I trust you." I said quietly, shrugging.

"(Y/n)..that's not it at all. I just want everything to be out in the open first. I want to take this slow if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind! I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, love. Do you want to get dressed and maybe go to my place?"

"Will Auston be there?"

"Maybe but I'll tell him to be nice."

"Yeah I guess I'd like that."

"Do you want me to leave so you can change?"

"I don't care. You're my boyfriend, you can stay if you want." I said taking off my shirt and putting on a sports bra I wore the day before. "Does it matter what I wear?"

"Not really. Whatever you're comfortable with Kas seeing you in."

"So I can wear comfy relaxing clothes?"

"Absolutely. Just um wear your hair down if you don't mind?"

"How come?" I asked pulling some leggings up over my butt.

"I just really like it down that's all." He mumbled sounding flustered.

"You're so cute. I'll wear it down." I said before kissing his forehead.

It didn't take long before we were outside of the apartment. I was really nervous as he drove underground to park the car. I was quiet when he got out and opened my door for me. He grabbed my hand as we walked to the elevator. It was a really beautiful building, lots of really expensive looking stuff. I was fidgeting with the end of the shirt when he grabbed my hand.

"What's the matter?"

"It's nothi-"

"Yes it is. Your feelings matter, love. What is it?" He said softly.

"I feel like I'm dressed too sloppy to be in here."

"That's all?" I nodded and he hugged me, chuckling lightly. "You look so cute (y/n). Besides there's no dress code for mine and Kappy's apartment. If he's even wearing pants when we get there it'll be a rare occasion. I asked him to but he probably won't."

"How come?"

"He knows you're coming over and he wants to frustrate me."

"Aw is he trying to make you jealous?" I teased.

"Yes. Very much so. I'm not usually the jealous type but.."

"Hey it's okay. I get jealous sometimes of other girls with you so I guess it's only fair. You could take your pants off too, then I'd be too distracted by you to ever even notice Kasperi." I said laughing but he wasn't. "I'm sorry that was a dumb joke.."

"It wasn't your joke I was looking at you like that for. You really feel jealous?"

"William you could do so much better. It's hard not to."

"That is the most absurd thing I've ever heard." He said opening the door.

"He's right, that is pretty ridiculous. Willy here is all about you. Nice to see you again (y/n)."

"Uh yeah you to Kas. What are you watching?" I asked walking over and sitting on the couch beside the chair he was on, only wearing boxers as William predicted.

"I recorded the vegas game last night so I'm watching it again. William said it was your favourite team and I want to see what they have that we don't."

"How about a winning streak?" I asked with a smirk raising my eyebrow at him.

"Okay low blow." He said making me laugh.

"Alright, how about multiple defensemen that can absolutely clobber players with clean hits?"

"Nah we can do that."

"Fleury."

"We've got Fred!"

"I was gonna say a hot Swede named William but you've both got one of them."

"I don't like this game." William said cuddling into my side while Kas laughed.

"Aw babe don't be sad!"

"He's such a jealous baby when it comes to you it's not even funny."

"Kas shut up!"

"No she should know how you just go on and on and on about how Peter is awful and doesn't deserve her." He teased. "I bet if I gave you a high five he'd legit growl at me."

"We're not finding out." William said holding my arms tight to me side making me laugh.

"Aw William stop." I said giggling as he started tickling my sides. I didn't even notice Mitch and Auston come in until Auston spoke up.

"Never saw one without the other, did you?" He asked in an irritated voice.

"Leave them alone Aus." Mitch said before throwing himself over the couch beside me. "Honestly ignore him, we all do."

"That's the main issue we have Mitch." Auston grumbled.

"Yeah whatever. Hi, I'm Mitch."

"I know who you are Mitch, we've met." I said laughing.

"Yeah but not like this. That was just a quick introduction before pictures! This is meeting a friend."

"Yeah right." Auston snorted making William push me aside and drag Auston into another room.

"I'm sorry.."

"(Y/n) don't be." Kasperi said rolling his eyes.

"What are you sorry for?" Mitch asked softly.

"I'm sorry that I'm causing problems with Auston. I feel so awful about it." I heard yells coming from the other room and I sighed. "Maybe I should leave. I'm making everything worse."

"You don't have to go. Auston is being an idiot. He can get over it and you can hang out with us."

"I don't know, I think I better leave." I stood up and slid my shoes back on.

"Can I at least give you a ride home? Willy said it takes a long time on transit."

"Mitch come on you don't have to do that."

"I want to. Let's go, if you want to go."

"As long as you're sure I'm not being a huge burden.."

"I'm positive."

"Lead the way I guess."

I followed behind him quietly through the hallways and down the elevator into the parking garage. He led me to his black shiny car, I dont know what brand I'm not a car fan, and we got in.

"I know you think that was your fault but it's really not. Auston is just a brooding bitch." He said making me laugh.

"I just feel bad. He said Auston is like his brother and I don't want him fighting with his brothers because of me."

"I'm sure William has told you that things with us are.."

"Complicated is what he said."

"Yeah that's actually a really good word for it. I can't tell you everything now, it's not my place but I promise that Willy will tell you as soon as he can. We're literally all waiting on Auston right now. Everything will make so much more sense after you know."

"I just don't want to upset anyone and it seems like everyone is upset." I looked out the window completely ignoring the confusing jumble of words he just spewed.

"Nobody is upset. We all want you to be comfortable. Is there anything I can do to help? Make you feel more comfortable with us?"

"Tell Auston to get off my dick." I mumbled making Mitch burst out into giggles. "Seriously though. I'm not doing anything to him. I'm never gonna hurt William. I don't want to take him from you guys or distract him from his career or anything. I just want to be around him sometimes and I don't think it's too much to ask for that I spend time with my boyfriend without feeling like the most hated person in the world."

"You're not the most hated. Auston has a hard time that's all. He hates my girlfriend the most."

"Why?"

"I don't really know."

"Liar."

"I'm keeping a secret from her and he doesn't think it's fair. But that's why it's so weird that he won't give Willy the okay to tell you."

"I dunno.."

"I'm also keeping a secret from Auston though and he's keeping one from me. So really Auston is just in a bad mood because of everyone and everything."

"I'm sorry that he's like that. I can see that it's hard on you."

"It's not the biggest deal. Well I shouldn't say that. It's not something I can't handle."

"Is that William?" I asked as we pulled up to my place.

"Sure looks like him."

"How did he get here first?"

"You should ask him that. I'll let you get to that. Can I get your number so we can get to know each other better? I have a feeling you're going to be around for a long time and I'd like to be friends. Maybe we could go on double dates!"

"That would be cute Mitch, I'd like that." I gave him my number and stepped out of the car. "Bye, drive safe."

"See ya." He drove away and I walked up to my door.

"Hi.."

"Don't run away like that again." He murmured pulling me into a hug. I started crying immediately and he pulled away slightly to look me in the eye. "Why are you crying, love?"

"I'm sorry I just didn't want to make it worse. I always make things worse."

"No, no, no you don't. You make everything better for me (y/n). I mean that. I don't care if Auston is being dumb, he can get over it. And he absolutely cannot drive you away from me and my house. I won't let him."

"He's like your brother though. I don't want you fighting with him."

"Brothers fight, sweetheart. I'm not bothered by it." He took my hands in his before continuing. "I like you far too much to let Auston scare you away baby. He'll come around."

"It's not fair that you're doing that brain quitting voice on me right now."

"I'm sorry."

"No you aren't." I said making us both laugh.

"I'm not."

"Are you sure you're not bothered?"

"Positive." He kissed me softly before breaking away smiling. "Let's hangout here instead."

"Now there's a smart idea." He laughed again as I led the way to my living room.

[getalittleclosey]

under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

--

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

--

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k 

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

~

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.  

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

[kiruuuuu]

Thanks to these two wonderful anons, I finally wrote more recruitverse! Thank you both :) 💗 In this one, they meet Shay’s girlfriend... and as usual, chaos is involved. (Rating T, humour + a whole lot of pining, ~5.1k words)

Meet my recruits! Find the other #recruitverse pieces under the tag or here on my masterpost 💙

.

Jojo has never seen Ivan Ivanovic this delighted. There are a few things which spark a grim smile, like being complimented on an exercise well done, or offering him food he adores, but nothing so far has managed to plaster a grin this wide and persistent on his stoic Russian face. His joy is contagious, and both Gian and Jojo himself mirror his expression with glee in between silent pointing and suppressed giggles. Even the blasted snake curled up in its tank seems to smile.

On top of Valenti’s forehead, Jojo’s phone comes alive with an alarmingly loud buzz, nearly toppling the group of chess pieces gathered on the display. The other three freeze comically, Ivan mid-step and his foot left hovering uselessly, Gian about to balance a ruler on the Frenchman’s toes and Jojo with his hands in his pockets, looking for his wallet. A few seconds pass. Nothing happens.

Valenti continues to sleep peacefully.

It’s Ivan who breaks out into quiet laughter, slight hysteria colouring his relief, and then they all have to hold on to something to not burst out into Frenchman-waking guffawing. They’re not even sure why Valenti is sleeping like the dead, but they sure as hell are taking advantage. He’s showcasing several stacks of various paraphernalia on all his body parts, the highlight being a literal chair precariously resting on his limbs. Jojo went where the other two didn’t dare and placed one of Shay’s ubiquitous containers of glitter on his friend’s crotch – closed, of course – and at this point they’re struggling to even procure more items to add to the impressive piles.

As Jojo gingerly places his opened wallet on top of one of Gian’s boots, Ivan Ivanovic, the madman himself, begins building a house of cards on the chair’s seat. Now and then, they whisper ideas back and forth and struggle to keep quiet in between the hare-brained suggestions – we could get Ying, was Jojo’s contribution, and Gian: I would like to try to put as many socks on him as possible. Eventually, it became absurd, with ‘an online coupon’, ‘a pottery course’ and ‘a trip to Italy’ marking the point where they had to stop or risk getting too loud.

A bag of water, Shay might’ve suggested, or if we distribute the weight equally, I bet we could put Dante’s tank on him.

But he’s not here, and Jojo isn’t even too sad about this fact. He’s been spending quality time with the other three, learning chess from Valenti, exercising with Ivan, discussing books from their childhood with Gian – they’re a friend group, after all, so he enjoys time alone with any of the four. Besides, when they get going, Shay’s absence is hardly noticeable anyway; Valenti’s and Jojo’s ideas are ridiculous enough and their motivation to set them in motion stronger than Ivan’s silence and Gian’s gentle disapproval. They don’t need him.

Which isn’t at all to say that he’s glad Shay has been frequently meeting up with his girlfriend. Of course not, Shay is wonderful – as wonderful as a good friend can be, in any case. Yet he’s not necessary for their group dynamic. Jojo can wait until the end of the day to share gossip and random events with him, sure. Shay isn’t the only thing that keeps him going each day. He’s not the first person he thinks about after waking up, though he’s usually the first to hear about Jojo’s convoluted dreams, and they usually text a little before drifting off to sleep as to not disturb the others. Even so, he’s not all Jojo can think about. He’s a big oaf, likeable yet with decidedly more stupid moments than any of them, gullible to a fault, easily entertained by pretty much anything – and now he remembers how Shay realised that the yellow flower called dandelion and the fuzzy one he called blowball are one and the same plant, and how amazed he continued to be by this fact for days and then Jojo told him that ‘dandy’ was derived from it as they, like the flower, tended to change their outfits drastically, and Shay actually believed him and excitedly told his sister who was merciful enough -

Gian is looking at him. Maybe because he’s been motionlessly staring at nothing again and Jesus fuck this is a recently acquired habit he could do without.

I don’t even want that much, he thinks and knows it’s untrue, he’s asking for a whole lot without finding the words and should move on. He should. He really, really should.

With a bang, the door to their room flies open, causing their heads to snap towards the two people in the doorway: Shay is unmistakeable, beaming like he won the lottery, and judging by his companion, he did. Brittany is by his side, close enough to touch and displaying a friendly, inviting smile which – to Jojo – looks fake. He recognises her from the endless photos Shay showed him, though she’s shorter in person, less attractive, even plain. If she didn’t use photoshop outright, she must’ve applied a beauty filter of sorts to maybe move her eyes closer together or reduce the size of her nose. Like this, Jojo just can’t see the appeal.

“Howya lads”, Shay addresses them, evidently not having noticed the snoozing Valenti, “this is Brit. What are we doing?”

We. Jojo suppresses a scoff.

Before any of them get a chance to react, there’s movement on top of the bunk bed they’re surrounding, sparking instant panic: Valenti is waking up.

As soon as the Frenchman notices the raccoon socks dangling right in front of his face, he jerks in surprise and sets a domino effect in motion: the chair topples, dragging Jojo’s and Gian’s phones as well as the old-fashioned wall clock they stole from outside with it, and while Ivan skilfully snatches the chair in mid-air before it can crash into Dante’s tank, the clock shatters on the floor (but at least breaking the phones’ fall), prompting another twitch from Valenti and before they can actively think about it, Jojo and Gian are suddenly scrambling to catch the cascade of assorted objects toppling down.

Ivan Ivanovic manages to prevent another catastrophe by grabbing the container of glitter with his free hand, making all of them breathe a sigh of relief.

There’s a small silence once everything has either gone splat on the ground or been cradled safely in their arms. Confusedly, Valenti eyes the mess either still in his bed, in Ivan’s, Gian’s and Jojo’s hands, or littered on the floor. “Are you serious?”, he mutters and yawns heartily. Then, after spotting something in particular: “You used your phones? Please tell me you at least took pictures beforehand.”

“We are no amateurs”, Ivan shoots back and nods to where his smartphone is sticking out of his pocket. “Of course we take pictures.”

“Can I see?”, Brittany bursts out excitedly. She looks way too entertained anyway, as if they’d orchestrated this chaos purely for her sake. “In college, stacking things on sleeping people was my favourite thing. Oh, and writing on them.”

“A classic”, the Russian agrees and readily pulls up his gallery after having set down the chair to show her, “I have photo of writing too somewhere.”

“Don’t show her that”, Valenti protests immediately. “You drew all over my chest, that’s not appropriate!”

“If my memory serves correctly, there was an instance of Shay exhibiting various pro-England slogans”, Gian joins the conversation now too, “proclaiming his undying admiration of the Queen, for example.”

“I told you they’re ruthless”, Shay dejectedly addresses the only woman among them, making her chuckle and quietly urge Ivan to show her said photos as well.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you lot!”, she erupts once more, apparently remembering where she is. “I’ve heard so much about all of you. Please call me Brit.”

And thus commences the general Fawning Over A Female. It’s a ritual Jojo has witnessed countless times in his life and as time progressed, it only became more sickening. Beginning with a funny introduction – nothing major, either a self-deprecating detail (I’m generally responsible for the trouble we end up in) or an allusion to an anecdote (I threw him over fence, don’t know if you have heard story) –, then followed up by desperately trying to include her into the group (Shay briefly mentioned a potential interest in video games, would you be willing to dare an attempt at playing some time soon?). Her laughter is suddenly more contagious than the plague, and there’s no doubt she’s drinking in all this attention lavished onto her like an alcoholic.

The lack of girls among the Rainbow recruits must’ve gotten to them. Even Ivan Ivanovic is being courteous, there’s no other word for it. Boot-licking maybe. If you can even call knock-off Uggs boots. Valenti is going cross-eyed with how much he’s trying not to ogle her and even Gian of all people seems dead set on winning her over.

Pitiful.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Jojo”, he interrupts her before she can get the words out (and it took her long enough to turn to him, the only guy in the room not beaming at her like a lunatic), “and I got a mess to clean up.” With that, he turns away to pick up the shit off the floor which Valenti kicked everywhere. He’s not known for tidying up, especially not voluntarily, but no one bats an eye.

After all, he’s not known for flirting with girls, either.

Brit hardly counts as a woman; with her freakishly large eyes, overdone expressions and exuberant behaviour, she’s infantile. Pretty? Maybe. Perhaps under all that make-up not so much. But pretty enough to melt his friends’ brains. She’s delighted over that stupid snake and pretends like nothing’s more interesting than hearing all about Valenti’s piano lessons, and they’re eating it up as if she was a date they snagged despite never expecting to.

Then, all of a sudden, something dawns on him. Something which has him freeze instantly and turn back to the giggling posse.

“How did you get in?”, he asks loudly, not bothering to apologise to an irritated-looking Valenti for talking over him.

Abruptly, the noise dies down. They get what he’s asking – except for Shay, whose grey cells might’ve been sucked out of him by this doll and dear fucking God, that’s a mental image for which Jojo only has himself to blame. “She parked outside and we walked in”, Shay clarifies, pointing in a seemingly random direction. “By the skip, you know. Why?”

Gian looks positively horrified. “They – they merely allowed you entry?”

The happy couple exchanges a glance, nonplussed. “Yeah? I mean, they know me.”

“What did you say you worked as? A waitress?”, Jojo can’t help but ask with a sickly sweet smile. “Shay, you fucking moron, you brought a waitress into an SAS base. She’s a civ!”

“Oh, is that what this is?”, Brittany clarifies cheerfully. “I was wondering about all the security.”

Jojo’s no longer wondering why these two airheads ended up together. By now, he’s only clueless as to how they found each other at all with how much they’re bumbling through life. “Yeah, you gotta go. Your man’s getting eviscerated if they find you.”

Despite the shocked faces around her, she’s still perky. “Ah, it’s not going to be that bad.”

Valenti pulls a face which Jojo feels in his guts. “If you think that, you can’t be very aware of our reputation.”

And this is when they suddenly notice boots stomping down the hall. Familiar boots. On the way to their room.

“Goodbye cruel yet magnificent world”, Gian mutters, already accepted his fate, whereas Shay and Jojo exchange a single glance – enough to ensure they’re on the same page. Which hurts. Despite all the mayhem and impending doom, Jojo has the brain capacity left to realise he’s never been this in tune with anyone else he’s ever met.

They grab the nearest blanket – Valenti’s, causing even more items to topple to the floor – and hold it up in front of Brit and Ivan, trapping them between two bunk beds yet shielding them from the door. Well, to be exact, it’s only Brittany who can’t be spotted anymore. Ivan’s eyes are still peeking over the edge.

Sledge barges in without so much as a knock (which is fair enough as it’d only give them more time to hide any evidence), and finding himself in front of five recruits staring at him, unmoving, doesn’t seem to quell his suspicions. Oddly enough. “Which one of you clogged the showers?”, he barks as a greeting and Jojo doesn’t even get that usual pang of I wonder if he orders Maestro around like this at home. He doesn’t know when the Scot’s broad frame became less attractive than gangly limbs and a crooked grin.

“First of all, I find it very disrespectful to assume it was one of us”, Valenti starts with as much indignation as he can muster while nearly shaking in his boots, “you can’t just default to us every time something goes wrong, it’s unfair and -”

“Shut up, Jean.” The Frenchman’s mouth snaps shut. “Who was it?” Sheepishly, Gian, Jojo and Valenti raise their hands. “Bloody knew it. If it’s not in mint condition by supper, you won’t be getting any. Now drop the blanket and let me see what else you broke.”

“Ivan’s indecent”, Shay quickly butts in, earning himself a withering glare. There’s movement now, and instead of standing stock still, Brit is sliding under one of the beds while trying to make as little noise as possible.

“Come on. Let me see, lads.” They manage to dodge Sledge’s hands until he eventually rips the duvet out of theirs to face the explosion caused by Valenti’s awakening earlier. The Scot eyes the mess suspiciously. “That’s it?”

“I really was indecent”, Ivan replies, deadpan. “We were comparing. Would you like to -”

Sledge’s face contorts in vague horror. “God no. I’ve heard enough. I better not catch any of you causing more trouble for a week, there’s only so much nonsense I’m willing to take.”

With that, he storms off, leaving them to gather around an extremely dusty-looking Brit with cobwebs in her glossy brown hair. Her muted expression soothes something in Jojo.

“Now we just have to get you out of here and we’re good”, Shay announces, sounding hopeful and pointedly ignoring the disbelieving looks of his friends. “Got any ideas, lads?”

The Frenchman is the only one looking contemplative instead of bleak. “I might have one.”

.

“Do we, uh”, Valenti begins hesitantly, fidgeting when attentive eyes shift over to him, “do we have blueprints of Hereford? Somewhere? Just out of curiosity? Maybe you’ve heard of a secret passageway to the Outside? A path theoretically possible but no one dares to use it?”

Jäger examines them, visibly fighting a smile. They approached the German engineer for no other reason than his involvement in their highly successful weapon of Christ-mass destruction and the fact that he didn’t rat them out, quite the opposite. They’ve discussed alternatives, a conversation Brittany followed with increasing entertainment, and decided against Smoke and Mute despite their love for mischief and support for anything threatening Sledge’s and Thatcher’s composure: the two are simply too unreliable and would indubitably sell them out for a Curly Wurly. There’s no love lost between any recruit and most of Rainbow, and the operators who do actually care about them are the ones who’d chastise them for causing any kind of trouble.

So they’ve snuck into the workshop, hoping their usual invisibility works in their favour.

“Gustave told me not to interact with you five anymore”, Jäger replies, though his lowered voice implies the opposite. “But you seem very polite. And reasonably desperate. Why do you ask?”

“We might be wanting to smuggle something out”, Jojo explains. It’s odd to talk to his fellow countryman in English and not his mother tongue, but he vividly remembers the previous time he tried to converse with Bandit in German. If he’d thought the man’s swearing and threats couldn’t get any worse than what he produces in English, he was sorely mistaken.

“Like what?”

Girlfriends, Jojo thinks. “Live cargo?”, he offers. Shay pulls a face.

“Oh. Did you adopt a stray animal?”

When he makes a pensive expression, he earns an elbow between his ribs. “Listen. We can’t talk about it. Can you help us?”

“Not without seriously upsetting my boyfriend, no. I’m already on thin ice after I accidentally helped Dom spike the afternoon coffee.”

That’s fair enough, thinks Jojo. So maybe they need something more… straightforward. He suddenly has an idea.

.

“Is it theoretically possible to use a trebuchet to catapult someone?”, Jojo wants to know interestedly and almost regrets asking the moment Mira’s face lights up.

“Of course! Do you have one at the ready or would you need to construct one first?”

The five of them exchange uncertain glances, so the Spaniard enthusiastically begins sketching out all the materials needed, complete with dimensions and tools. In fact, it’s a tad concerning how easily she outlines all the necessary steps and has Jojo wonder about her past – this sort of thing seems to come naturally to her. Engrossed, they follow her instructions with nods and mental notes and eventually accept the several sheets of construction paper with elaborate thanks. Consulting her was Jojo’s idea and he based it on Mira’s helpfulness and general spirit when it came to building… anything, really.

“Now have fun and don’t be afraid to use your hands. Making things is incredibly rewarding. Good luck!” It doesn’t seem to bother her that she can’t even remember their names as she’s too focused on a task well done. Before they can turn around, however, she stops them with a last afterthought: “Wait – you didn’t need the person to survive being launched, did you?”

Before Shay even has the opportunity to get more upset than he already is, Ivan speaks up: “Never mind. I have idea.”

.

Kapkan is sharpening a knife, with Fuze next to him cleaning a gun. The two Russians raised their gazes the moment they stepped outside and haven’t lowered them since, favouring a cold hard stare to intimidate over inspecting their own handiwork, which admittedly ends up being flawless despite the lack of attention. Otherwise, the two of them are unmoving.

Four of their expressions basically scream this is the worst fucking idea and only Ivan Ivanovic seems at ease. He nods curtly as a greeting and receives likewise, but when the rest of them attempt an equally cool gesture, they’re scrutinised even more closely as a result. Jojo is genuinely anxious; being in the same room as any other Spetsnaz always causes an uncomfortable itching just below his skin. Except for Ivan, of course.

“Why are we here again?”, Valenti whispers while trying to hide behind Shay, and winces when Kapkan’s eyes flick over to him.

“Guard on entry”, Ivan says, clearly not beating around the bush, “who is it today?”

The two operatives glance at each other. “Perkins”, Fuze replies, and Kapkan adds: “Pain in the ass. Why?”

“He could have accident. Two minutes.”

Holy fucking shit. Jojo feels all colour drain from his cheeks.

“Yes, he could have”, Kapkan concurs. “But it would cause a lot of attention. Potentially. Sounds like it’s not worth it.”

“It is”, Ivan emphasises and that’s the moment Valenti finally snaps out of his disbelieving stupor and drags the Russian away while muttering what could be either French swearwords or a bread recipe, Jojo isn’t sure.

“Thanks anyway!”, he yells over his shoulder as he quickly follows the others, their ranks breaking down more with every passing second. “No hard feelings! We won’t tell!”

“I cannot shake the feeling that this has ensured our demise”, Gian mumbles and Shay, just as pale as Jojo feels, simply nods.

.

“To be honest, I don’t mind spending some more time with this cutie”, Brittany waves off Shay’s concern the moment they’re back in their room. “I’ve never even touched a snake and Dante is a real gentleman, so don’t worry about me.”

“Are you out of your mind?”, Valenti hisses in the background, audibly furious. “No matter whether Perkins is a piece of shit, he’s SAS and we’d be dead meat!”

“They would have tied together shoelaces”, Ivan unsuccessfully tries to appease him. “Or something like it. Better idea than hoping Hereford is Hogwarts, with secret tunnel.”

The Frenchman turns a lovely shade of dark red which almost matches his scarf. “Really? You call involving the Russian mob a better idea? At least I didn’t try to turn her into ammunition!”

“Hey, no need to lash out just because you didn’t get your letter when you turned ten”, Jojo chimes in, feeling his own annoyance spike.

“My suggestion was reasonable at least and wouldn’t have ended with her splattering into giblets.”

Thankfully, Gian steps in before the two of them can get into yet another shouting match: “May I propose the simple yet effective art of social engineering?”

Oh. This sounds like it could actually go somewhere.

“But we already talked to Jäger”, Shay speaks up, confused, and Jojo doesn’t know whether to hug or laugh at him.

“A tried and tested example of this involves carrying a ladder into various establishments”, Gian explains. “The key is to seem so average, everyone else’s eyes glide right past.”

Shay is still frowning. “Don’t call her average.”

“Darling -”, Jojo begins to set him straight, but is interrupted by Brit: “No, he just wants me to carry a ladder.”

It’s immensely satisfying to have Ivan raise an eyebrow and then, very quietly, murmur into Jojo’s general direction: “Match made in a very chaotic heaven.”

“Fairly sure we can find a recruit’s uniform that fits her”, Valenti picks up Gian’s idea and has the happy couple react with an intrigued ohh.

.

“Doesn’t look too bad”, Jojo decides as he inspects the sixth recruit in their group. Brit is noticeably too thin and the make-up peeking out through the holes in the balaclava aren’t reassuring, but she might just pass. “Are you a decent liar?”

“About as good as I am”, Shay replies in her stead, prompting the others to exchange glances clearly spelling out we’re doomed.

“In that case, just don’t talk. Leave it to us. If you’d be forced to answer, maybe pretend you don’t understand English.”

“Why can’t I be mute?”, she asks, making Shay shake his head.

“He’s much taller than you are, Brit, that would never work.”

Bless him. To hell and back. This is the same guy Jojo trusts with his life, and he knows Shay would never let him down in a mission. Yet he’s so child-like in the most charming way, wide-eyed and curious, gullible and excitable. And, at times, really really dim. Not that it matters as their continued survival rests in his girlfriend’s hands right now, and she still doesn’t seem to have grasped the severity of the situation. While Jojo isn’t sure of the repercussions to inviting a civ unannounced, they can’t be great, especially with their history of either demolishing or disrespecting anything that’s not nailed down (and even some of what actually is).

Trying to appear nonchalant, they saunter through the corridor like they belong, naturally crowding around Brittany so it’s less obvious she has no idea where she’s going and hoping they don’t meet too many eagle-eyed operators. Female recruits are few and far between, so it’s indeed possible someone like Montagne or Doc, who interact with them often enough, would raise an eyebrow.

Fortunately, the first person they run into is Rook. Not only is he well-known for being sociable and friendly, he’s also comfortable with English and French only. Brit can easily claim being Russian and avoid any questioning with a thick accent.

“Hey, guys”, Rook greets them cheerfully. “Who’s your extra? A new recruit?”

“Yes, but unfortunately her English skills aren’t -”, Gian begins just as the masked woman blurts out: “Ah oui, pardonnez-moi, je suis française.”

Oh.

Well.

The panic in her eyes is visible as Rook, delighted, starts babbling to her in rapid French before Valenti replies with a few curt sentences and then drags her with him accompanied by excuses as loud as they are insincere.

So far, the plan is working beautifully.

“I’ve never met an American who could speak French!”, Brittany whispers in her own defence as they leave the building. “I thought it was a safe bet.”

“You have something more exotic?”, Ivan wants to know. They’re not far from the gate now, with a bit of luck they’ll make it.

And then they’re greeted by another familiar voice, a voice at which Gian’s ears perk up almost visibly. If there was ever the equivalent of a friendship crush, this would be it – Gian would give his right arm to be able to bask in this man’s presence, which says a lot as the ginger makes sure not to play favourites. But Castle? Castle is his celebrity. Castle is to him what Sledge is to the rest of them.

Unfortunately, Castle is also well-armed when it comes to languages.

Jojo already sees himself ejected straight out of Rainbow as soon as Castle realises the new recruit in their midst is a fraud, which will be incoming in a second or two, as soon as Brit chooses Spanish or maybe German or even Latin -

What comes out of her mouth, however, is nothing Jojo has ever heard. It sounds so unfamiliar that his heart soars, even if there’s a shred of doubt still – it’s so foreign she might as well have made it up despite how confident she seems. It’s perfect. Whatever it is, maybe Arabic or Nigerian, who knows, will definitely throw Castle for a loop.

His confidence lasts for all of a heartbeat. Because the operator, momentarily baffled, responds in the same odd vernacular.

To everyone’s bewilderment, Brit doesn’t seem to mind as she continues, exchanging a few phrases with an increasingly jolly Castle and then waving goodbye before strutting off towards freedom, leaving the boys at her heels.

“That wasn’t Korean”, Valenti mutters. “What did you -”

“I can’t believe it”, Shay pants, and for once, he’s breathless, “you speak Klingon?!”

“You do too?! buy’qu’ ngop!”

Holy shit. Jojo isn’t sure whether his eyes can roll any further into his skull. This is so fucking in character for everyone involved he should’ve seen it coming a mile away.

While the two nerds continue gushing, to Valenti and Gian’s amusement and Jojo’s frustration, Ivan Ivanovic breaks off from the group, in the direction of the small office by the gate.

“I will tie shoelaces together”, he announces quietly.

.

That evening, when they’re all huddled together for warmth in one of their secret hideouts – the attic of one of Hereford’s practise houses –, the atmosphere feels different. Where just a week ago, Shay would’ve spent several hours typing on his phone, wholly engrossed in whichever inane conversation he was having with his paramour, today he’s much more involved. Not that he’s participating in the impromptu Smash Bros. tournament Valenti put together on the spot as soon as Ivan mentioned being able to beat him (though neither of them have ever touched the game prior to this), but at least he’s looking up whenever one of them hoots. Now and then, he relays Brit’s opinions about the evening, making most of them laugh: once they’d successfully jailbroken her, they all went to a nearby café to allow for some time to pass (and the poor barista thought she was getting robbed for a moment). Brittany must’ve really enjoyed herself nonetheless, inquired some more about Dante and those ‘weird polyglot Americans’.

Yes, Shay’s attention is slowly shifting back to them now that both bubbles have come into contact, and he’s probably hoping they’ll merge with time. Valenti and Gian seem relieved by this change, they must’ve missed him too, whereas Ivan Ivanovic is his usual inscrutable self. He gave nothing away, though he must’ve noticed Jojo has bummed quite a lot of cigarettes off him recently.

Jojo hates it.

He hates the way Shay’s entire face lights up when Gian comments on one of Brit’s remarks, hates how the others have just… accepted her. Because it doesn’t involve him. He didn’t fall for her womanly charm and he seems to be the only one who’s not picking up what she’s putting down. The others laugh and it almost feels like an attack. If he wants to keep being a part of this group, he has to like her, it implies. He better make an effort.

Even if he really doesn’t want to.

“Shay”, he addresses his former best friend during a brief lull, “how come you didn’t contribute any ideas earlier?”

The idiot either hasn’t noticed Jojo’s gloomy mood or has chosen to ignore it graciously. His smile is genuine, like someone whose faith in his so-called best friend is unshaken, and Jojo’s heart throbs. “Honestly, I was so happy about her being here that I didn’t even think. At all.”

“That is utterly endearing”, Gian replies, and Valenti goes awww and Jojo thinks: I’m gonna throw up in my mouth.

After Valenti has K.O.’d Ivan using Jigglypuff (something about which he’ll brag for at least a year), Jojo requests another cigarette break and only narrowly resists asking for a hug first thing when cold air hits them. The Russian is watching him closely, probably expecting an outburst of some kind and normally wouldn’t be far off. But Jojo’s feeling too pathetic to conjure up his trademark anger, and so they stand in silence for a while. “Is it just me or is she a bit of a slag?”, Jojo eventually bursts out when he can’t take it anymore.

Ivan isn’t smiling now. He takes his time answering. “Just you”, he says calmly.

“So you want to get into her undies as well, Ivanko?” The silence stretches on long enough so Jojo can berate himself mentally for voicing his thoughts out loud.

“No. She is nice. I like her.” The simplicity of his statements drives home just how true they are. With a pointed look, he adds: “We all do.”

And this we, again, doesn’t include Jojo.

[andromedarune]

Dream ball, Great ball, level ball??

Ooo, these’ll be fun! Thank you, and here I go~! [ooh, lord, get ready cuz I'm gonna write A LOT]

Dream Ball (dream pkmn team)

This is my dream team! I should prob mention that while I love all these pokies, they aren’t my top six favorites. I picked this team for its variety of types and their usefulness in a competition match - it’s a pretty solid team, I figure, but I can’t say for certain as I’ve never actually gotten to use it in game, lol! But I do adore these babies in a competitive sense, and they’re all such great designs to me, oof. 

Great Ball (fav pkmn game)

Ooo, this is a hard one! I’ve played most all the Pokemon main games (a few spin-offs too, namely PKMN Pinball for GBA - so fun!), so it’s kind of a struggle to choose just one when they all have their pros and cons. But some stick out to me more than others.

For nostalgia reasons, I’d say Diamond/Pearl/Platinum (namely Platinum). This was the game that I remember clear as day from my childhood, and it was kind of the one that really began my giant fascination with the franchise despite having played prior games. When I was young, I didn’t personally get my own video games - they were all hand-me-downs or borrowed copies from either my sister or step-brother. But Pokemon was one of the only games we all got together, and we all played together, too. It began the tradition of me always picking the fire-type starter, since we each wanted different starters as to complete our dexes (my bro was grass, my sis was water). I still remember the team that I used to first beat the elite four, and I used that very same team to beat the elite four and Cynthia again in Platinum (as I first played through Pearl bc my sis wanted Diamond). Infernape, Vaporeon, Staraptor, Lucario, Gardevoir, Giratina/Palkia... Ah, man, my babies... And the music??? Oh, the jazzy influences of the region stuck out to my little musician heart so much - sometimes I still go back and listen to my fav themes from that game whenever I need a pick-me-up. I especially love the Twinleaf Town theme - the whole thing conveys a sort of homesickness yet overwhelming desire to see the world, a melody very nostalgic to me personally, as it was played during a very odd time in my life. I also remember the game having so much extra content and lore - from the main game story, to the Great Chateau, and the legendary special events - every single one never failing to excite my childhood imagination. It was so much fun for me, and I adored the story aspect of the game with how effortlessly it seemed to mix together with the gameplay. But I will say upon replaying it several years later, it’s quite challenging! A lot of times, you don’t know where to go, or you know where to go but not how to get there. But maybe that’s because I’ve lost a few braincells along the way, lol. Still makes for a wonderful, breathtaking experience that reminds me of the innocence that the early 2000′s brought me.

For gameplay reasons, I’d have to go with Sun and Moon / USUM. Bare with me here lol. For a while, I had kinda grown a bit bored with the later PKMN games; I didn’t particularly enjoy BW/BW2, and only really liked XY for its new format and introduction of new battle mechanics (and it had a fire-type starter that WASN’T a fighting type!). So, when SM came out, I was understandably skeptical, but it wasn’t like I was just gonna ignore a PKMN game. So I bought it, hoping it’d be a stress reliever during my first year of college. OMG it was FANTASTIC! It brought a breath of fresh air to the franchise to me - inspired music that no longer felt like the same pandering to nostalgia, a bit more charismatic characters that brought a frivolous curiosity to their unique personalities, AND the integration of Hawaiian culture within the very heart and soul of the game embedded even in the battle mechanics. I loved the idea of Z-Moves - I thought it was cute and clever, a cheery nod to the significance of dance in the culture of its real-life counterpart. I loved the mini-games, like the Pyuku(whatever it is) chucking and the Mantine surfing - I can’t tell you how many hours I have of me literally just surfing in that damn game. I liked the legendaries, I liked the story, I liked the characters, I liked the music - overall, such a fun game to play that wasn’t a drag to play through a second time when I got USUM. While the story followed the now traditional PKMN script of “power hungry villain tries to do something stupid with only a 11yo child to save the world”, I found myself far more interested in the actual gameplay than the story or whatever. I couldn’t wait to get into another battle, or find another Pokemon via inter-dimensional travel, or what-have-you. Just.... FUN!

Level Ball (highest lvl pkmn personally raised)

OMG, I hate to say that this also comes with a long-winded story, lololol.

Okay, so remember that Platinum game I spend 30 minutes writing an IGN-esk review on? Yeah, same game. So, I had that game for a couple years at this particular point in my life. I used to go to a dance studio at the time, and I would bring my DS and play it late Tuesday nights bc my sister had a 8-9pm class and my parents would make me wait in the lobby before picking us both up at 9. There were a couple other little sisters that would wait with me, and we all would play PKMN together or watch TV. Normal stuff.

So one day, this girl (don’t remember her name) says something like “Hey, I need to beat the Elite Four, but my team isn’t strong enough - do you have some Pokemon I can borrow?” Now, she knew that I had probably 1000 hours logged into this damn game - my Infernape was like a lvl 83, my Gardevoir in the 90′s, but my Vaporeon - my secret weapon thanks to its stupid strong special attack and infamous Hydro Pump - my Vaporeon was a lvl 100. My ONLY lvl 100. That’s what this girl wants. But I’m like 9 or whatever, so I’m like, “ya man, just give him back to me next week”. So I trade, get her shitty Mankey or something, and go home, patiently waiting for next Tuesday to get my beloved Vaporeon back. 

I never got him back. She avoided me like the plague for the rest of the year, and then I never saw her again. The little shit up and STOLE my lvl 100 Vaporeon!!! I was so heartbroken - truly a tragedy caused by my own stupidity, lolol