#anyway back to fallen london sorry for the interruption

[esteemed-excellency]

interrupting my regular ocposting with some hotel management sketches

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - Fix You Part 2/10

Part 3 and 4 are out on my Patreon for Free!

Summary - Reader is hired as Ruben's assistant nurse after receiving head trauma during a football game. He has fallen into a deep depression on his road to recovery and does not accept much help from Reader as she only reminds him of how incapable he is.

Enjoy!

Ruben's family were not joking when they said that if successful, you'd be hired immediately. You still had your flat in London with all of your belongings, however, that would be taken care of for you since Ruben's family were more than willing to set up a room for you in Ruben's apartment. There you received your own private quarters, with a joint bathroom and everything, not to mention your own walk-in closet.

"I kid you not, it's bigger than my old flat." You squealed into your phone.

"Well, what is he like, your employer?" Your friend Donna asked. She was currently in your apartment in London, collecting the immediate essentials that had to be shipped to you right away.

"Well, you know. He's kind of quiet." You said, having only known Ruben for two days. During these two days his physio, Max, had taken care of everything, only asking you to measure the proper proportion for Ruben's daily dose of Heparin, which was injected to prevent blood clots from forming.

"But he's hot, no?"

"Who, Max?"

"No, the guy you're working for, Ruben?"

"I don't know?" You muttered. Although he was tall and fairly built, there was something about not knowing the color of a man's eyes that didn't sit right with you. "It's the mirror to one's soul, you know."

"I'd rather wanna know the size of his...."

"Donna." You hissed. "Really?"

Her laughter buzzed in your ear. "What, it's the canal of life, you know."

"Ha, ha, very fun..."

"Y/N?"

A knock on the door interrupted you.

"Just a second!" You pressed the phone to your ear as you jumped down from your bed.

"It's Max." 

"Yeah, just a second!"

You said goodbye to Donna and hurried up to close the suitcase that lay open on your floor. You shoved it under the bed along with other scattered items, before making your way over to the bedroom door. Max stood waiting for you in the doorway.

"Hey, I just wanted to say that I'm leaving now."

"Oh, okay,  when will you be back?"

"On Monday?"

"What? But that's in three days."

"Exactly." He nodded. "I work four days and get three days off to see my girls."

"You have a family?" You said, quite disappointed by the fact. Max was really handsome for a forty-two year old.

"Anyway, If you need anything I think Ivan is stopping by tomorrow with some groceries, other than that I wrote down everything that needs to be done during the day, along with some light exercises that you can help Ruben do."

"Me, help Ruben?" You frowned. It took you two days to get comfortable living the easy life. You would've never pursued acting if you had known about being a rich man's nurse.

"Like I said," Max smiled. "If you need anything, call Ivan. He lives twenty minutes away from here."

"Alright, okay. " You nodded, accepting the situation. "Have a good weekend."

"You too."

And just like that a man's life was left in your hands. It was an odd feeling. Not scary, just odd. Nevertheless, you plotted yourself in the living room, just in case Ruben needed you he could call for help and you'd hear him. However, hours passed without a word from him. You weren't concerned at first, considering the fact that Ruben knew how to walk on his own. But after some thought, you decided to knock on his door and see if he needed anything.

"Ruben, It's me."

No answer.

"I thought that maybe I could make you a snack? Would you like that?"

Still no answer.

It hit you, what if he was bleeding out? With the trauma to his brain, perhaps he had developed some internal bleeding and now he was laying in bed, dying on your watch.

"Ruben, I'm sorry but I'm going to have to...." You burst into his room. The first thing that hit you was the breeze from the balcony with its door ajar.

"Oh, no."

Only seeing the traces of Ruben on his bed, you could only assume the worst.

"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead."

You rushed out onto the balcony, leaning over the railing, expecting to see a body laying flat on the ground. However, there was nothing, not a trace of human remains.

"You're worse than the others, you know that right?"

You gasped, hearing his low chuckle. Turning your head, you spotted Ruben, shirtless, laying on his back, arms tucked behind his neck as he bathed in the sun.

"You're....you're...."

"Not dead?" He said, raising a brow behind his bandaged eyes.

"I'm sorry, I thought...."

"That a guy with injuries like mine should consider killing himself?"

"Yes and no." 

"Yes and no?" He frowned, "Care to elaborate?"

"Not should consider." You said. "But I believe some people would consider...doing it."

"Well, unfortunately I'm still alive."

"I can see that." You muttered.

Ruben sat up, and to your surprise removed the blindfold from his eyes by tugging it down to rest around his neck. He then reached for the bottle of sunscreen on a stool nearby, applying a drop of it on his nose.

"If you're planning on laying in the sun all day, you should probably apply sunscreen to your entire body."

He stopped the motion of putting on sunscreen, shifting his head your way. "I'm Portuguese, I'm pretty sure I can handle a dose of English sun."

"But can you handle a dose of skin cancer?"

He chuckled, eyelids flickering as he did. He seemed tempted to open them, his eyes. And for a moment that thought struck fear within you.

"Was there something you wanted?"

"Pardon?" You had been distracted. Your eyes falling onto the sight of his abs. They were visible even though he was sitting down. Something worth remembering for your next call with Donna.

"Was there something you wanted?" Ruben repeated, snatching you out of your daze. "I mean Max already gave me my shot and I don't need your help swallowing my pills."

"Right." You said. "I guess I just wanted to check on you."

"To see if I was still alive?" He grinned.

"Right." What an asshole, you thought. "Now that that's confirmed, I'll get started on dinner."

"Don't bother." He said, pulling the bandage to cover his eyes again.

"Why not?"

"Well, my mom left us food that should last us all year."

"Oh, okay."

"She's afraid that you can't cook, you know."

"Well I can."

"Yeah, but not as good as her."

"Right."

You left Ruben's room, embarrassed to have entered in the first place. Who does the guy think he is, speaking to you like some kind of servant? You wondered how long you'd be able to put up with it. Not for long you reckoned.

'

Part 3 and 4 are out on my Patreon for Free!

[christ0pher-evans]

Shattered Heart

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: Angst / Cheating / Mentions of Sex  Word Count: 1.9k 

A/N: I never usually write RPF angst fics, only fluff or smut, but I was drowning in many of my drafted smutty stories (not a bad thing) and I felt like I needed to clear my head with something different. I had this idea and Chris was the best fit. If you don’t feel comfortable reading RPF then please don’t! Based on ‘I love you’ by Billie Eilish. Please reblog and like🖤

 ♡

PRESENT DAY Laying in bed, wrapped tightly in Chris’ arms and listening to his soft snores over your shoulder was your confirmation that it was the weekend. Any other day you would be waking up alone, Chris already long gone and busy working. You shifted carefully before sliding out of his gentle grip, putting on your oversized jumper which was discarded on the floor from last night. 

Once you were downstairs and waiting for the pot of coffee to finish, your gaze lingered on the big garden to your home; the hammock that held a blanket from summer evening cuddles, Dodger’s toys flung carelessly from energetic play dates and the makeshift bar that you had built together for the parties you always hosted. All things that highlight the life that you and Chris had started together seven years ago. Smiling to yourself and caught in your memories, you didn’t even hear Chris coming down the stairs. You only realised his presence across the kitchen once you turned around. Taking him in quickly, you noticed a look of anguish fixed on his face. 

“It’s not true, tell me I’ve been lied to”

“Babe, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

Upon trying to approach him, to check he was alright, he hastily stepped away as if he was frightened from your touch. Looking away from you, he stayed silent. 

“Chris?”

Now, you were airing on the edge of nervous, genuinely worried something bad had happened but something was also telling you to stay put, to not move closer to him. You kept your distance, leaning against the breakfast bar for support against the unknown. 

“Y/N, I… I have to tell you something.” 

Sick rushed to your throat at the tone of his voice; coarse and frightened. You stayed quiet, too scared to ask him to continue. 

“Last night..” he took a deep breath, “last night, at the work dinner, before I came home; I kissed someone else.” 

Chris took another deep breath before he looked up. You were already looking at him, tears building in your eyes. Gripping the edge of the counter, you bit your lip and took a shaky breath, too afraid to do anything else incase you collapsed from the utter heartbreak washing over you. 

“Y/N, please say something.”

The sound of Chris speaking startled you, suddenly conscious of how long you’d been frozen, practically in suspended animation. Your ethereal bubble of love and adoration abruptly shattered, even the sound of his voice was making you shudder. 

Deep down, you were burning with rage, but your voice only came out as a whisper, “Tell me it’s not true, tell me you’re lying.”

You pleaded, praying and begging that this was some horrible practical joke that he wanted to play on you. 

“I - I’m not lying..”

“So, just to be clear, you went to a work dinner when you knew that I would be spending the fifth night in a row, in our home, eating alone-?” 

Chris went to interrupt but you weren’t finished. You were determined to get your point across before you crumbled. 

“-You went out and kissed someone that wasn’t me and then came home to me, sat and had wine with me and then made love to me but didn’t have the respect for me to tell me the truth the second you walked in the door last night?!” Staring at Chris, you felt the first tears drop onto your flushed cheeks. You didn’t mean to sound so harsh but when everything was fracturing around you, your emotions were the last thing you were trying to control. 

“Up all night on another red eye, I wish we never learned to fly” 

THREE YEARS AGO “Chris, I thought you said you were going to be home this week? It’s our four year anniversary!” You sighed into your wine as you sat eating dinner with him one Sunday evening. 

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry but they want to squeeze in a week of location shooting, it was a last minute decision.” 

You flicked the contents of your dinner round your plate, sad at the thought of another week at home alone. As an editor for a fashion magazine, you could do a lot of work from your home office therefore you’d already told your boss that you were working at home all week to spend time with Chris. In these situations you were so grateful to have an understanding and flexible job but frustrated to have such an in-demand and famous boyfriend. Sitting in silence with Chris, you couldn’t help but feel like this was another nail in the proverbial coffin that was your relationship. 

“Come with me!” Chris blurted out nervously. “You were working from home this week anyway, why not just work from London?” 

Your heart felt warm suddenly. The idea of spending a week in London with Chris was exciting and the sense of feeling wanted squashed your previous anxiety. 

“Of course I’ll come with you, if you want me there?” 

Chris leaned forward, reaching out and pulling your face to his, lips gently brushing against yours as he whispered, “There is nowhere that I could be in this world where I wouldn’t want you by my side, ever.” With that, he caught your lips in a bruising kiss. 

SIX MONTHS AGO “Chris..” you sigh, holding your phone away from your ear so he doesn’t hear the sob that escapes your lips. “I just don’t think that flying me halfway across the country will fix these problems!” 

You were exhausted with fighting a losing battle. You played with the loose tendrils of hair that had fallen around your face, waiting for his reply, wondering if he understood your hidden rejection of his offer. 

“Y/N, you can’t tell me that you want to see me and sort our problems out in person but moan when I offer a perfectly valid solution! I know I’m away a lot at the moment, but your job is so flexible, I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just come with me in the first place!” 

You involuntarily groan, irked by what Chris had thought was a perfectly acceptable compromise. He had missed the point completely. Flying from state to state, hell even country to country for the past six months just to get an iota of time with your husband was taxing, it was also forcing you to surrender your own life to follow his. All you wanted was for Chris to understand the sacrifice you’d been making. 

“Okay Chris, I’ll book my flights now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You sighed, disconnecting the phone call and slamming your phone on the sofa in frustration. 

Reflecting back on the past few years, you felt ashamed at your naivety with Chris. You had taken everything with a pinch of salt because you could only imagine how difficult it was for Chris to uphold a relationship, let alone a marriage, with his career, so you were happy to make a small sacrifice if it resulted in spending time with Chris but now you realised, you were sacrificing everything for his happiness, not yours. 

“Cryin' isn’t like you” 

PRESENT DAY The words you had spoken hung over the room like a dark cloud. You knew you were being heinous before you’d given him a chance to explain but you were heartbroken. Your fingers skimmed your lips, disgusted that they’d entwined with Chris’s after he had kissed another woman, disgusted that they had begged him for release as you made love after he had kissed another woman. 

As you wiped your own tears from your eyes, you noticed tears spilling from Chris’s eyes. Your body went rigid - you had only seen Chris cry a handful of times. The feeling of sympathy and guilt should have been foreign to you in this situation but you felt pain from his misery. You could see the torment in his eyes, and you knew that he was angry with himself for hurting you; maybe, just maybe you could sort this out and salvage your marriage. 

“Shouldn’t I be the one that’s crying?” You tried to make light of the problem but recoiled at the distastefulness of your question. 

Moving to the now well-brewed pot of coffee, you poured two mugs before placing one at the other side of the breakfast bar for Chris, a symbolic waving of the white flag. You sat down, anxiously waiting to see if Chris would follow, hoping that you could sort this out like adults and maybe try to recover your trust and your marriage. That’s what you wanted, right?

“Maybe we should just try, to tell ourselves a good lie” 

You took the first sip of your second cup of coffee, still sitting in silence. You had been pondering with how to start the conversation but was admittedly hoping Chris would instigate it. Looking like that wasn’t going to happen, you tore off the bandaid and asked the question you had been dreading finding out the answer to. 

“So, can you start from the beginning and tell me what happened? I think I need to understand what transpired before we move forward.” You spoke calmly, channelling your nerves into picking at your nail varnish. Distracted by the chipped pattern on your nails, you were startled when Chris spoke up. 

“So, um, obviously you and me, we’ve been dealing with what feels like a long distance relationship; even though we live in the same house.” Chris paused from a moment, and you thought he was going to start crying again. You had to look down into your coffee, scared that if you started crying also, you wouldn’t stop. 

“Not that we haven’t handled that before, but this time it felt different, it felt worse. I know it’s not your fault Y/N and it’s not mine either, our jobs are so demanding but I was just feeling so alone.” 

Your heart was shattered at Chris’ confession. Knowing that you were both hurting from the same issue but keeping it to yourselves, it seemed absurd. 

“She was always there. I saw her every day at work, definitely for many more hours than I was seeing you each day, and she is nice. She became my friend and my comfort.”  

Now you felt like you’d been stabbed through the heart. Hearing Chris talk about another woman being everything you thought you were to him crushed you. How could you ever trust him again when he chose another woman to confide in?

“We get on really well, and um, whilst we were waiting outside the restaurant for our taxis, it just sort of.. happened.” 

The rest of the conversation passed by like a bad dream. Remembering snippets of trying to stay calm as Chris told you he made the first move, screaming at Chris when he told you he would still see her at work every day and crying into his shoulder when you admitted you wasn’t sure if this marriage  had a future. 

Chris had left hours ago to stay at a friends house to give you some space. You glanced at the tissues surrounding you - reminders of the tortuous day - as if you were looking for the answers among them. Wiping your puffy eyes for the final time, you waited for something, or someone, to make the decision for you. 

Now, it felt like the quiet at the end of a storm. Like your nightmare had come full circle. You sat in the same spot, alone. 

Part Two: Troubled Heart

[fruitquake]

The Notebook

Remus had been in such a rush to get to class, he didn’t notice he had grabbed the wrong bag. In fact, in his absentminded state, he didn’t realize before he opened the bag to find Sirius’ things inside: Pieces of crumbled up parchment, a couple of chocolate frogs, a bottle of ink, and his notebook. 

Remus remembered buying that notebook with him, in a bookshop in muggle London. Sirius had immediately fallen in love with the notebooks that had silly “inspirational” quotes written on the cover. The one he had bought said “Shoot for the moon; even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars”, which didn’t even make sense. Of course, Sirius didn’t care if it made sense or not. 

“Alright, now, students, you will be taking notes today, so get your quills and parchment out,” said Professor McGonnagal as she entered the classroom. 

Fuck. Remus didn’t have his own bag, and therefore didn’t have anything to take notes with. He turned in his seat to try and catch Sirius’ attention, but to no avail. 

He would have to borrow Sirius’ notebook then, just for this lesson. He could give it back to him afterwards. 

But as he opened it, something written on the first page caught this eye:

This notebook belongs to Sirius Black Lupin. 

Remus felt his heart rate speed up as he flicked through the pages. On some of them, Sirius had written things like “S+R”, usually with a heart neatly drawn around the letters, as well as “Sirius Lupin” over and over again. A larger block of text caught his eye:

“Why do I feel this way? I know it’s wrong, but no matter how hard I try to make the feeling go away, it’s still there; making me weak in my knees every time I look at him. 

He doesn’t realize the effect he has on me. Every damn time he smiles, or ruffles his hair, or bites his lip when he’s concentrating… Someday, one of these things will be the bloody death of me and he doesn’t even realize. 

If he found out how I feel, he would surely hate me. He can’t know I’m hopelessly in love with him. No one can ever know.” 

Remus stared blankly at the page. Surely, this couldn’t be about himself? Sirius wasn’t in love with him… Was he? 

He quickly closed the notebook before anyone around him could see what was written in it, and turned around to look at Sirius. He was staring at his desk, though he didn’t appear to be taking notes, or doing anything, really. Remus couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius had seen him reading the notebook and if so, what was going through his head?

-

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Sirius’ ears were ringing, his whole brain in panic mode. It was like an alarm inside his head, frantically ringing out:

He knows, he knows, he hates you now, everything is ruined. 

He thought of all the possible ways out of this: Fakng his own death and moving to France and live under a new name. Or faking his own death and move to the other side of the world. Or perhaps even better, faking his own death and going into outer space, making a life for himself on Mars. In fact, he didn’t really have any idea that didn’t involve faking his own death. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Remus turn in his seat to look at him. 

Alright, Sirius, he said to himself. Keep your eyes down, don’t make eye contact. As soon as Transfiguration is over you can make a run for it. 

By the end of the day, he would be Pierre The Frenchman, living on a cozy wineyard in France. Or an astronaut on his way to Mars. 

But as the lesson ended and students hurried out, he started to realize he couldn’t leave. Even if Remus now hated him, he still loved Remus, and a life without him, even if he got to meet some cool aliens instead, wouldn’t be worth living. 

He stood up, finding himself face to face with Remus. “Hey,” he said, praying his voice wouldn’t betray his nerves. “I think you have my, uh-”

“Notebook?” Remus interrupted in a strangely high-pitched voice. “Haha. What notebook? I didn’t read it. I didn’t even notice it was there. Here’s your bag! Goodbye!” He tossed the bag onto Sirius’ desk, before practically running out of the door, leaving Sirius behind in the nearly empty classroom. 

“What on earth was that about?”

Sirius jumped. He’d completely forgotten that James was there too. He turned around to face him, making a desperate attempt at a nonchalant expression. “No idea,” he lied. 

James didn’t seem so convinced. “Why was he being so weird about a notebook? And what notebook was he even talking about, anyway?” He reached into Sirius’ bag, but Sirius was quick to snatch it out of his hands. 

“It’s private!” he said. 

But James had managed to grab the notebook, and had already opened it. “Oh.” he said, realization dawning on his face. “Oh!” 

“James, give that back!” Sirius pleaded, no longer able to keep the panic out of his voice. 

James looked up at him. “You’re in love with Remus,” he almost whispered. “Shit, mate. Everything makes so much more sense now.”

Sirius looked down, shame mixing with the panic. “You weren’t supposed to have read that.”

But James ignored this. “Sirius, you have to go after him! He clearly feels the same way!”

“No he doesn’t!”

“Yes, he does,” James insisted. “Did you not see him running out of here all red in the face. And how weirdly he acted before… Pads, that is not the behavior of someone who just learned his friend is in love with him and doesn’t return those feelings.” 

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, letting out a shaky breath. “You don’t know that,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, I do! Listen to me, dimwit,” James said, grabbing a hold of both Sirius’ shoulders, forcing him to look at him. “If he didn’t have feelings for you too, he wouldn’t have acted that way. There would have been an awkward conversation where he tried to let you down gently. ‘I really like you as a friend, Sirius, but I would like to stay just that.” Something like that, you know? He definitely wouldn’t have acted like that!”

Could James really be right? Sirius fiddled nervously with his shirt collar. “So… you think I should find him and talk to him, don’t you?”

“Exactly!” James responded. “Come on, no time to waste!”

Sirius sighed. “Alright,” he muttered, taking hesitant steps towards the door. 

“Actually, wait.” James said, grabbing his arm. “Look, Pads, I know I shouldn’t have meddled in this. That notebook was private. And, well… I imagine this isn’t how you planned on me finding out that you like blokes but, uh… I want you to know that I love you just the same. You’ll always be my brother.” 

Sirius didn’t have the words to explain what a relief it was to hear that from James. All of the sleepless nights he had spent, after realizing he was gay, picturing James’ reaction. In his imagination, it was usually the end of their friendship. James looked disgusted, angry, betrayed. But as he looked into his eyes, a deep, gentle brown, there was none of that. No hatred, no disgust. “Thank you, Prongs,” he said with a small smile.

James returned the smile, pulling him into a brief hug. “No problem, mate. Now go talk to Moony, for Merlin’s sake!”

-

Remus had gone to the place he always went when seeking comfort or a place to clear his mind: the Hogwarts library. Surrounded by books, with no people around, except maybe for the librarian, he felt strangely at peace. Today, however, there was no peace. His mind was running at a dangerous speed, way too fast for himself to keep up.  

Sirius liked him… maybe. It could’ve been a prank. Could Sirius have meant for Remus to find it? Was he trying to humiliate Remus by tricking him into confessing his own feelings? Or it could all have been something Remus’ own brain, desperate for love, had made up. Either way, he was going to do what he always did in uncomfortable or scary situations: ignore it until it hopefully went away. 

“Remus.”

Fuck. It was going to be hard to ignore the problem, when the problem was standing a few feet away from him, nervously fiddling with the strap on his bag. 

Sirius shuffled awkwardly next to Remus’ table, eyeing a chair as though he was debating whether or not to sit down. “I thought I might find you here,” he said. 

Remus got up, grabbing a random book off the nearest shelf. “Congrats, Sherlock,” he said snarkily, sitting back down again. He opened the book, pretending to read. It was better than having to face Sirius.

“Moony, I- I know you looked in my notebook,” Sirius said, pulling out the chair opposite Remus and sitting down.

Remus kept his eyes on the book, without catching any of what was written in it. Sirius continued:

“I don’t know how much you actually read, but… Well, I’m pretty sure you saw enough to know the truth.”

“No, I swear, I have no idea what you’re…” Remus trailed off. What good would lying do? He had known Sirius since they were both eleven. There was no one more stubborn or persistent. If Sirius wanted to talk about this, that would happen whether Remus wanted to or not. “Yeah, I did,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have.” 

“I need to know the truth as well,” Sirius said. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s fine. I’ll… I’ll get over it, I won’t make it awkward or uncomfortable, I promise. But if you do feel the same…”

Remus opened his mouth, but no sound left him. He didn’t know what to say. This didn’t feel real. It was too good to be true. A prank, for sure. James was probably hiding somewhere, ready to jump out and laugh at him with Sirius if he confessed. 

Silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity, while an internal war wreaked havoc inside of Remus. Should he tell Sirius the truth, or stay silent?

But before either side could win, Sirius had already drawn conclusions from his silence.

“Right,” he said, his voice choked-up and distant. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed there was even a chance you liked me back.” He got up, before Remus could say anything. “Just forget about it, okay?”

Fuck. Remus looked up. Sirius was walking away, his shoulders slumped, his steps heavy. Remus stood up, knocking the chair over in his hurry. “Sirius, wait!”

He had caught up with him in a few long strides. Sirius turned around, his expression hardened like he didn’t dare let himself hope again. 

This time, Remus didn’t waste any time worrying about the consequences. He cupped Sirius’ face with his hands, leaning in to kiss him, and oh Merlin, was it the best decision he had ever made. 

The kiss was returned almost immediately, like it was all Sirius had been wanting to do for years. And maybe it was… Remus thought that was the case for himself, even if he had only recently realized it. 

Both of them lost in the other’s lips, they accidentally backed into a bookcase, sending a few books falling onto the floor. 

“Who’s there?” Called the angry voice of Madam Pince. 

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, both trying to suppress their laughter. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Sirius whispered. 

Remus nodded, letting Sirius take his hand as they both ran from the library. He grinned, feeling the rush of adrenaline and euphoria take over his mind. They hid in an unused classroom, both of them laughing and panting. 

“That was close, huh?” Sirius said. “Imagine if Madam Pince had seen us. She would’ve lost her damn mind.” 

“Definitely.” Remus’ cheeks hurt from smiling. “So,” he said. “Sirius Lupin, huh?” 

Sirius groaned. “Shut up,” he said, his face turning red. 

Remus laughed. “No,” he said. “Never. It’s embarrassing for you.”

“It is,” Sirius agreed. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ lips. “Will kissing shut you up?”

“Mmh.” Remus stroked his chin with mock thoughtfulness. “You know, it just might. Why don’t keep kissing me to find out?”

[smugzayn]

I’m Sorry

You broke up with Harry four weeks ago, so why are you crying outside his front gates now? And why does he let you come in?

ONE.

It feels all numb at this point. You write the short text, press the blue arrow and watch the instant read notification appear below. There’s six unanswered blue bubbles of text, and they all say the same thing, “Call me. I’m sorry,” and they all are marked as read. 

“Leave Harry alone, babes.” Your friend plucks your phone from your fingers and plops it screen down on your lap. The Uber is small and with your shoulders pressed flesh against hers, you should’ve known she would’ve been peeking at your desperation. 

She pats your thigh consolingly and you lay your head on her shoulder. 

“He’ll call when he’s ready. Promise.” 

You sigh, forcing yourself not to flip over your phone to torture yourself once more with the blank screen. “It’s been four weeks.”

“You broke his heart,” she mutters.

She had never understood your decision to end it with Harry. She saw too much of the good - the sneaking away to dark corners, and flirty banter, and the way you both stared when the other one wasn’t looking. She was there the giddy morning after you had moved in, and the surprise birthday party he threw for your cat, and had walked in on one too many early afternoon bedroom sessions that resulted in tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and canceled plans. 

You and Harry were both private people, so your spats that turned into sleeping in different rooms were demons all to yourself. The empty bed on nights he promised to leave the studio early, and last-minute flights to wherever, and then the late to that family supper, or dinner party, and date night that started at just ten minutes turned into long texts of apologies, and empty promises, and the realisation that it wasn’t meant to be. 

“His heart never belonged to me,” there was a bitterness that you tried to erase from your voice. “It belongs to his music, and his fans, and his own - his own passions. And that’s fine because that’s what he wants, but it’s not…” You swallowed the last of what was left in your flask from the party. The burn down your throat helped distract from the ways your eyes were beginning to warm with tears. You cleared your throat. “It’s not what I want.”

TWO.

You were the further stop, so you rode the last bit of the Uber on your own. You’re not sure at what point you decided that you weren’t going home, but now you were standing at the front gates of Harry’s London home and pleading with Gerald, his security, to let you in. 

“Gerry, it’s me,” you beg earnestly into the intercom system as you stare into the camera. “Please, I just want to talk to Harry. That’s all.” 

“Sorry,” he responds gruffly, and you slouch down on the ground outside the gates. Four weeks ago you would have laughed if someone told you this is where you’d be. You weren’t happy then, but you were with Harry, at least. Four weeks ago you would’ve been cuddled up against his hard body in his warm bed and his arms would be wrapped tight around your stomach to pull you into him. You wouldn’t be sleeping, and you might even be crying because you knew it was over then. At least you were with Harry. 

You wipe away hot, angry tears that sting down your face. You can’t figure out if you’re more angry at him or yourself. Him for loving his career more than you and you for being too selfish to not let him. 

With a creak, that gates behind you slip open and you roll onto your back. Harry’s deep, sleep-filled voice comes over the intercom. 

“Come in. Hurry up,” he grumbles and you wipe away your tears, and clean up your hair, and the smudged makeup under your eyes as you walk the short path up his drive. 

He’s standing in the doorway, and it’s clear he’s just been woken up and he’s mad, or frustrated, or hurt. It’s hard to tell with him. Harry’s so expressive, so it always feels like you’re seeing every complex, nuanced emotion on his face. 

“Why did you come here?” he waits until you’re standing on the steps below him, his deep voice no more than a hard whisper in the air. 

You shrug your shoulders, examining the tightness in his eyes, and the hunched weight sagging his shoulders, and the defensive, wide stance of his feet. “I needed to see you. You wouldn’t answer my texts.” 

Harry swipes a tired hand over his face. 

“I’m calling you a cab -”

“No,” you protest, stepping towards him and putting a hand out to stop him as he reaches for his mobile. “Please. I just - I need to talk to you.” 

 The moment feels so big and scary that you feel ill. You don’t know what he wants to hear, or needs to hear, or what you even want from this moment. You can’t get back together with him because neither of you would be happy, so what exactly are you doing here? Do you tell him you're sorry? That you wish it was different? That you don’t want to - can’t be the one who makes him unhappy. 

“Fine,” Harry allows, slipping into the warm light of his home and you follow him. “But I’ve nothing to say.” 

You have a lot to say, you think, if you can just find the courage to say it. It bubbles in your stomach, and burns in a rush up your throat as Harry sits on his stairs and pulls his heavy, fiery eyes up towards you. As your mouth begins to water, you realise those aren’t words gushing up your throat at all. It’s something much worse. 

You grab a nearby vase, dump the flowers and water onto the floor in front of you, and promptly empty every drink you had that night. 

THREE.

You feel childish as you sit neglected on the sofa, wrapped up in a blanket, and with a crazy mess of morning hair atop your head. Harry’s rolled up the sleeves on his button-up and is glowering at his mobile from where he’s leaning against the counter in the kitchen. He’s angry and he’s not spoken a word since you woke up to find him standing there unhappily. 

Your head is aching, your tongue feels fat in your dry mouth, and you feel like a tit. You’ve fucked up. 

“I’m sorry,” you broach cautiously. “I’m not sure why I came here. I should’ve gone home, or to a friend’s, but...I didn’t. I’m so sorry, Harry-”

He cuts you off. “Did you think this would help?”

You feel a lump build in your throat. “What do you - I’m not sure what you mean.” 

His neck is red against his collar and there’s a tight furrow between his brows as he glares at you. “You call and I don’t answer. You text and I don’t respond. You show up and harass my security until I let you in.” He holds a hand up to stop you from interrupting. “You told me you wanted to be done. You broke up with me, and I’m trying…” 

Harry pauses, then coughs dryly and runs a hand through his hair. 

“And I’ve accepted that, but I can’t do that if you keep showing up - on my phone and now at my flat.”

“Can’t do what?” 

Something flashes behind his eyes then - pain or anger, you can’t really tell. 

His voice is hard and flat when he finally speaks. “I can’t get over you.” He turns to open the refrigerator, and then hands you a bottle of water. Your fingers don’t brush, he doesn’t look at you, and he returns to his distance across the room before he turns back towards you. 

You don’t know what to say. You could argue, but he’s heard all that you want to say. You don’t want to argue with him, anyways. You want to comfort him, thank him, and tell him your sorry it couldn't be different. 

“How can I make it up to you?” you ask and he pulls out his mobile as he shoots you a scowl. “No. Not for breaking up,” you amend quickly. “How can I make it up to you? For this?” You motion to the shirt you have on, Harry’s shirt, and the duvet, and the aspirin, the water, the tarnished vase put away somewhere, and the half-eaten peanut butter crackers sitting in the bowl on the table in front of you. A piece of you breaks as you think about Harry making those for you late at night, knowing how much you crave those after a night of drinking. 

He continues to busy himself in his mobile, though, and ignores you. It’s like he’s in another room, or house, or country, and not ten feet away from you on the other side of a counter. 

“I can clean your house, or make you a cake, buy you a new vase, perhaps?” you offer kiddingly, unsure of what to do or say. You think getting any reaction right now would be better than this, but then Harry speaks and it feels like a weight has fallen on your chest. 

“You can’t do this. I can’t do this,” Harry rubs at his jaw as he takes five strides to the front door and swings it open. “I can’t do this with you.”

You stand up, bunching the duvet onto the sofa behind you. “Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -” 

“I know,” he interrupts, and your steps towards the door are slow and heavy. “I know. I’m trying to figure this out without you. Figuring out how to sleep, and work, and live without you. And I don’t know how to do it without you, but I can’t do it with you either. And definitely not like this.” 

“Harry, I’m terribly sorry. I didn’t know - I wouldn’t have ever -” You trail off, unsure of what to say, and unsure of what made you come here in the first place. “I’m just - I’m sorry.” 

Harry looks like he wants to pull you into him, he even leans forward slightly as if his body wants it, too. But his eyelids fall heavily, and the moment passes and you pass too, slipping out the front door. 

“I’ll go,” you promise, and you wonder if that means forever this time. 

Harry reaches out, his fingers trailing softly along your jaw, and your eyes flutter close with tenderness, familiarity, and need. Then his hand falls limply by his side and you turn away before you hear the light click of the door slipping shut.

[masterlist]

[pawsitivelymiraculous]

Four pictures worth one thousand two-hundred and eighty two words

This is the Valentine's piece for @bunathebunny!!! I hope you like it :D Also thank you @eat0crow for organizing this event.

Ao3

Marinette looked at the photo strip of paper in her hand, which had four pictures in it, and smiled. Because if one picture alone was a thousand words. Then those four were a story.

One with the most unexpected beginning. Where she found the love of her life at probably her lowest point.

Being the guardian of the miraculous while still going out as ladybug had been stressful enough but when the end of high school began to approach, Marinette realized that she couldn't handle it all.

People were expecting her to make decisions that would define the rest of her life while Marinette longed for the days when she didn't have the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Marinette felt lost, because she needed to figure out what she wanted to do with her life, alone.

And then she found him.

Jason Todd. Who looked a lot more lost than she did. Who's past had been so dark that Marinette could feel the bad luck and misfortune radiating from him. But within all of that she found beauty, a soul that had been through a lot but still cared.

That's when she found her best friend. The destruction to her creation. They both helped each other and Marinette got to see as the light seeped back into Jason's eyes. The clouds cleared and the real Jason Todd shined through.

Likewise, she had found a balance between her life, a way to achieve her dreams, and her keep responsibilities as guardian.

Jason helped her a lot. He took the Chat noir miraculous after Adrien left to live in London when he was accepted to go to college there. And fought by her side.

The only downside to it all was everyone thinking that they were dating. Not because she didn't like Jason. She did. A lot. But Jason had been through so much that she didn't think it was the right time. So every time one of her friends teased her about how they were basically an old married couple Marinette felt a pang of sorrow knowing that she had once again fallen for a guy who didn't love her back, romantically at least.

It hurt a lot. The years passed and they were still there for one another. But Marinette had to suffer through seeing Jason with random girls. "No commitment" he would say but that didn't lessen the sting.

But Marinette had his friendship, and that was something she treasured. And that she was not going to lose for anything in the world.

Then Jason started to become distant. Before, he basically lived at her house. Now he barely visited. Every time she called him to hang out, he came up with an excuse for why he couldn't. She was losing her best friend and didn't know why.

Had she done something? Did he go back to Gotham without telling her? Both of these options terrified her.

Then after a couple of weeks Marinette decided that enough was enough. She was going to go to Jason's apartment and lure him out to go to a carnival. And god forbid he refused because she was going to drag him there kicking and screaming if necessary.

She was going to get her best friend back.

~♡~♡~♡~

Jason was an idiot. There was no question about it. He was an idiot and Marinette was going to kill him for good this time.

And he deserved it because he had fallen for his best friend.

He couldn't handle it. Every time he saw her he wanted to just look into those beautiful blue eyes and kiss her.

He wanted to kiss her forever, and then marry her and- okay he was really getting carried away.

But since he couldn't do that, Jason avoided her. Which was really stupid because it was probably driving Marinette insane. And that was never good.

Why was he such a… a mess? He wanted to kill Bruce, but couldn't. He left Gotham And wandered aimlessly around the world before crashing into Paris and meeting the most amazing girl in the world. She took him in, cleaned his wounds both literally and metaphorically. And now he was almost purposefully hurting said girl because he was a coward.

Jason wondered just how angry and hurt Mari was at the moment. This was answered a couple of days later when there was a knock on his door.

When he opened it he saw her, Marinette in all her glory looking downright pissed. She examined him, from head to toe, with narrowed eyes. And when she concluded that he looked unharmed she glared at him.

"So he lives." She remarked sarcastically.

"Oh, hey Pixie. What's up?" He said nervously. If looks could kill, he'd be dead and nothing would be able to bring him back.

He needed to get his act together.

"Well you barely talk to me anymore so I came to find your corpse." Ouch "But since you're still here then you're coming with me to the carnival." Her tone made it clear it was not up to discussion.

He tried to refuse anyway. "Actually, Mari. I'm busy right now but maybe next time?"

"No"

"Um what?"

"I didn't ask you to come, I said you're coming with me. So get your keys and let's go."

Needless to say, Jason did as he was told. Pissed off Mari was terrifying.

~♡~♡~♡~

Walking around the carnival was awkward to say the least. Jason didn't talk, and didn't really do much except jump every time they accidentally made contact.

This was very out of character. Her dork would joke about how rigged the games were. Then he would spend hours proving that he could beat them all anyway. Her Jason would laugh, and have fun with her, not stare into the distance while looking like he wished he was miles aways from her.

Marinette's patience was running thin. And when they were in line for the photobooth she finally snapped.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Jason looked at like a deer caught in headlights. "Uh, I don't know what you mean."

Marinette fumed "Jason Peter Todd you know exactly what I'm talking about! You've been ignoring me, and acting all strange. " At this point her anger blended with hurt when her voice cracked as she said. "What did I do to you?"

Seeing Marinette's eyes shine with unshed tears broke Jason. "I think I'm in love with you!" He blurted. "Can't you understand? I'm in love with you, and I'm terrified."

Marinette looked at him in confusion. His words barely registered in her head when she looked at his eyes. They looked so confused, but at the same time hopeful and filled with love. Before she knew what was happening, she was moving closer, and so was he. They were millimeters apart when-

"Are you going inside or not?" A man who was behind them in line asked, tapping his foot impatiently. His daughter looked up at him in confusion.

Jason's eyes flashed dangerously, so Marinette grabbed him and pushed him into the booth before he could kill the guy.

Once inside they sat awkwardly. Their moment was interrupted. Should they continue? Should she take initiative? They both seemed to be at loss on what to do.

Then a click and a flash interrupted their thoughts. Marinette looked at the camera, startled. Then she looked at Jason, who had been looking at her intensely. When their eyes met, all of Marinette's worries vanished. She grabbed Jason by the collar and their lips crashed together into a deep and passionate kiss as the camera clicked away.

Ps: I'm still working on the art for this so yeahh hopefully I'll finish that soon.

~♡~♡~♡~ Permanent Tag List ~♡~♡~♡~ 

(If you want to be added please let me know)

@charme-de-malchan , @theatreandcomicfreak , @m3owww , @elliebelliegirl , @genevieve-the-demonologist, @vixen-uchiha , @t1dwarrior-of-earth , @waffleyunsure , @technicallyburninggarden , @azuremayscarlet , @vroomtaka , @emimar7 , @ichigorose , @maskedpainter , @art-is-hard-to-do-sorry

[wouldpollyapprove]

It’s Quiet Uptown: Part One

Request: Hiii, can I request a Tom Shelby x reader where they were a couple until Grace came and he broke up with her but she was pregnant and lose it and he finds about years after that????

Requested by @espacioytiempo

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Word Count:

Warnings: language, stillbirth, angst

A/N: First, I know very little about miscarriages and stillbirths, so if this isn’t accurate, I’m sorry. I did some research and tried my best. Second, this made me cry like a baby. I’m not even kidding. I teared up a little at first and that it was a full on river of tears seconds later. I’m so glad no one was home while I was writing this cause that would have been a disaster. I’d like to thank @nemesis729 for helping me with this and I love all you’re ideas, so thank you. I will also be doing a second part.

Part Two / Part Three

Masterlist

“It’s me or her,” Y/n stated, a tear rolling down her cheek. Wiping it away, she already knew it wouldn’t be her.

The decision was a simple one after she’d seen the sparkle in Tommy’s eyes when he’d glance at the new barmaid anytime she accompanied him to the Garrison all those months ago. Y/n wasn’t naive, she knew it wasn’t the reflection from the lights above. There was no scapegoat, no one to blame for what she had seen. As plain as day, it was obvious that Tommy had fallen out of love.

At first, Y/n wanted to believe that he would get over himself. Speaking to his aunt on the subject, she believed the same. Men got bored easily with what they couldn’t have and, if her lover were like any other man, he would do the same. But Thomas Shelby wasn’t any man. He was the man that set his sights on what he wanted and didn’t let up until he held it between his palms. If he wanted Grace the way Y/n believed he did, then he wouldn’t care who got hurt until he got her.

He was an animal in that way.

Tommy sighed, annoyed by the demand. One of many signs that she was already lost to him. “What?” he questioned, biting back venom as lean back in his chair. 

“Pick one,” she commanded, unable to repeat the previous statement. When there was no response, she said, “I see how it is then. Enjoy your whore.”

Walking out of the Shelbys’ shared home, Y/n wouldn’t let herself cry. She hadn’t lost anything worth losing. Tommy had never been hers if he could slip through her fingers so easily. He was a man that answered to his dick, nothing more, nothing less. Not worth her time, nor her heart. She would be better off with a fucking cow than Thomas Shelby.

But he wasn’t the only one to blame for her loss. 

Before the war, Tommy was a loving man. One with a moral compass that guided him through the streets of Small Heath. With his love of horses, he dreamed of training them, spending his days in the stables, between the mares, brushing their tales and taking their reins. The man that returned from the tunnels wasn’t the same, not that anyone expected him to be. But this man…this man was cruel, cutthroat, and greedy. Anything that could be taken, would be taken. He knew no bounds and drew no lines. And there was a hole in his heart that no one could fill…not even his fiancee. 

And, so, it was no surprise that he turned to the Garrison’s former barmaid. She was beautiful, smart, and witty. Grace held herself with class that Y/n would never have. But the woman with class was also the same woman that did her best to throw herself on a taken man, disregarding the fact that she herself had a husband. Y/n was no fool to believe it was all Tommy’s fault. She’d seen the woman flirt with him, even having the nerve to do it in front of her on a few occasions. Grace had read Tommy like a book and knew how to pull a laugh from his throat and put a smile on his lips. Even Y/n hadn’t been able to do that since the war. 

Perhaps, Grace was the only one that could mend his broken soul…. If that were true, Y/n wished them the best.

But now she was left with her own heart to mend and, walking down the empty street, there was only one thing she had to worry about.

A few days later, Y/n stepped off the train, scanning the crowds for the only person she could think of calling. “Y/n,” Ada squealed, rushing over to her. Quickly setting down her luggage, Y/n wrapped her arms around her childhood friend, happy to have escaped Small Heath. “I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“I am too,” she admitted as they broke apart. Grabbing her bag, she followed her friend through the crowded station and to the car that was waiting outside for them. In the safety of the vehicle, Y/n finally asked the question that was bothering her, “Did Tommy tell you…?”

“That the two of you broke up?” She raised a brow, lips turning up in a sad smile. “No, Polly did. Said he was a fool for letting you go.”

She nodded, moving to look out the window as the car moved through the city, Tommy was many things and a fool was certainly one of them. The people that were in and out of view in seconds were nothing compared to those in Birmingham. These people held themselves a little straighter, they wore bright colors that no one where she came from would dare to dream of. The air filling her lungs wasn’t clean, but it was fresh. It sure as hell was fresh. 

Soon they were at Ada’s home and she was showing her guest to her room before asking her to join her for a cup of tea. Y/n couldn’t turn the offer down and soon the pair were sitting in the parlor.

“You know, I don’t know why I left him,” Y/n said, stirring her spoon absentmindedly in her tea.

“What do you mean?”

Sighing, she knew Ada would have to know eventually. “I’m pregnant.”

There it was, out in the open. Y/n hadn’t dared to utter the words until then. Until she felt safe. It was a cruel joke to think that she was going to tell Tommy before she discovered he’d slept with Grace. The conversation that she was hoping would be joyous and full of smiles died once she got a whiff of the perfume that was not her own. 

Ada sucked in a breath, unsure how to approach the subject. “Does Tommy know?” she asked, setting her tea down. Y/n shook her head and Ada grabbed her hand, gently holding it in his own. “What do you want to do about it?

“I don’t know,” she admitted, leaning back in her chair. “I was going to tell him that night. But your bastard brother had another woman in my bed and I couldn’t.” Y/n thought back to the man Tommy used to be, the man she fell in love with. She wanted to believe she could love the man he had become, but that proved to be more difficult than she once thought. And how was she expected to love a man that clearly had fallen out of love with her. “He doesn’t want me anyway, so it doesn’t matter. And you won’t tell him or anyone else for that matter.”

Her friend nodded, knowing what it was like to deal with her brother. “It’ll stay between you and me.” 

And it did. 

What was meant to be a few days stay turned into a permanent residence. Ada refused to let Y/n go back to Small Heath and have to deal with raising her child on her own. She didn’t want to get rid of the baby and Y/n made it clear Tommy would never know. Going back to the place that had caused her so much pain would not only crush her, but Tommy would know the baby was his and stick his nose where it didn’t belong. So, Y/n gave in and took the room across from Karl’s. Ada still had much of the boy’s belongings from when he was an infant and told Y/n she could have them if she wished. 

London then became her home. It was much more glamorous than Birmingham would ever be and it held opportunities that she never imagined. Though, with her growing bump becoming visible under her clothes, Y/n spent most of her days at home. While Ada worked at the library, Y/n would entertain Karl and discuss short stories and novels with James, Ada’s other roommate. The two were very comforting to her, a girl who had never had a proper family. They gave her the support she had always wished for and she knew they would be wonderful people to raise her child around. 

It was late, almost 11 when Ada heard screams from down the hall. James was out for the night, going to the opening of a new club with his boyfriend, leaving Ada, Y/n, and Karl. Placing her book on the nightstand, she pushed off her covers and rushed out of the room.

“Y/n?” she called, hearing the woman’s voice float down the corridor. Entering the other woman’s room, she found it empty, the covers pulled back on the bed to reveal a red stain on the sheets. Sucking in a breath, Ada feared what she would find as she approached the bathroom door. Pushing it open, she fell to her knees to comfort Y/n, who was on the floor sobbing.

“I-I think… I think I lost it,” she cried, a steady stream of tears coming down her cheeks, and clung to Ada like she was her only lifeline. 

“It’ll be okay, Y/n. We’ll call the midwife,” Ada told her, hoping that it would bring the woman some hope, though, she didn’t have any herself. Having only one child, she didn’t know as much about childbirth as her aunt, but she knew there was too much blood on the bedsheets and the floor of the bathroom to be good.  The front door opening snapped Ada out of her thoughts, “James!”

Her shouts carried down the stairs swiftly as she could hear the man’s footsteps against the wood. “Ada?” he asked, standing in the doorway of Y/n’s room. 

“In the bathroom.”

James grew pale when he discovered his roommates on the floor, blood surrounding them. Opening his mouth to say something, he was interrupted before anything could be said. 

“Call the midwife, tell her to hurry,” she ordered him. He made haste to get to the phone, dialing the number of the midwife like he was asked. As he was doing that, Ada helped her friend off the floor and led her to one of the empty guest rooms. 

“It’ll be alright,” she repeated over and over, both for herself and for Y/n. She had to have hope that they would get their desired outcome. She had to.

“Midwife’s on her way,” James told Ada, meeting her in the hallway. “How’s Y/n?”

Ada shook her head, dark brown curls sticking to her face. “I don’t know,” she admitted, biting the inside of her cheek. “With how close she is to her due date, I hope she doesn’t lose the baby.”

“But you think she did, don’t you?” he asked upon catching the sadness that sunk her eyes. 

She nodded, eyes on the floor. “It doesn’t look good.”

There was no life in their eyes when the midwife arrived and Ada showed her to the room Y/n was in. There were no smiles as James fetched what the older woman asked for or while Ada sat by Y/n’s side. 

Tears stung her eyes as Ada was forced to watch her friend deliver her child that she would never get the chance to raise. When the baby was born, Y/n collapsed against the pillows beneath her, sobs escaping her lips. Ada did her best to comfort her friend, the same one who had been there to help her with the birth of her son, but it was no use. There was no comforting a woman who’d lost a child. 

“I want to see the baby,” she croaked, looking Ada in the eye. “I want to see my baby.”

Her friend nodded as the midwife brought the infant over. No cries filled the room as the baby was placed in its mother’s arms. Both women watched, hearts broken, as Y/n pulled the blanket down to see the baby’s face. When both had pictured this moment, there was meant to be a wailing baby, kicking and screaming until it was placed upon its mother’s chest. That wasn’t close to the scene they witnessed.

“It’s a girl,” the midwife told Y/n before going back to cleaning her instruments. 

“She looks just like her father,” Y/n said, a tear rolling down her cheek. 

Peering down at the child, Ada saw her brother in the child he would never get to meet. The child that would never know her own father, never given the chance. “That she does.”

Caressing her daughter’s pale face, she kissed the top of her head, holding her tight against her chest. “I love you, I’ll always love you,” she whispered. “My little Elena. You’re with good people now,” she told the lifeless child. “Your grandmothers are there, they’ll take care of you. They’ll play with you, braid your hair, take you for a picnic.” Sobs racked her body she continued, “And one day…one day, I’ll be there too.”

Ada had to excuse herself, telling the midwife she would bring Y/n a glass of water. The older woman knew better than to believe that, but she understood. Every stillbirth hit her like a bullet. And as much as she wished she would grow used to the pain she witnessed with her line of work, it was only human to feel sorrow and grief when mothers’ lost the children they loved unconditionally. 

Escaping to the hallway, the brunette wasn’t even down the stairs before tears poured out of her eyes and she collapsed on the stairs. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. Y/n deserved to watch her child grow. She deserved to hold her baby when it cried and teach her how to walk. After everything she had been through, she deserved that. And it wasn’t fair that Grace got to carry her brother’s baby, and with the fucking luck of god, do everything that Y/n would be unable to. 

It wasn’t fair.

In that moment, she wasn't angry at God for what he had taken away, she was angry at her brother. This was Tommy’s fault. He was a master at taking away everything that people cared about. It was his fault that Y/n had to deal with the loss of her daughter alone, in a place that wasn’t her home. It was his fault that Ada was the one who had to listen to Y/n’s sobs and tell her that everything would be okay when it never would be. He should have been the one to do that, but Thomas Shelby always got out of the hard work.

When Ada returned, tears wiped away but eyes still red and puffy, Y/n was asleep, exhaustion finally hitting her. “What would you like done with the baby?” the midwife asked, gesturing to the little bundle that sat in a bowl on the dresser. 

Clearing her throat, Ada was at a loss for words. She didn’t know. She never expected to be asked such a thing. “Um, I believe we’ll bury her with Y/n’s family, outside of Birmingham. I think that’s what she’d want,” she nodded, voice breaking. “I’ll make the arrangements and contact you tomorrow.” The midwife nodded, grabbing her bag and the bowl off the dresser.

Moving out of the woman’s way, Ada watched as the midwife left, little Elena with her. 

Three days later, Ada led Y/n, James, and Karl to Y/n’s family cemetery, where they were to bury Elena. It was a miracle they had entered the city without her brothers catching up with them, but Ada had called Polly the night before and her aunt did what was asked of her, no questions, once her niece’s cries came through the line. 

Y/n stood over the small hole in the ground, fresh dirt on one side and a coffin, that should never come in such a small size, on the other. She wanted to cry, to scream, but all her energy was gone. She couldn’t feel anything, her heart lying in the coffin in front of her. Y/n had given all her love to her little girl, believing she wouldn’t end up heartbroken, only for her heart to be torn in two.

The priest’s words fell on deaf ears as the three adults zoned out. Each had been looking forward to the presence of another child in the house. Ada was excited that Y/n would get to live her life the way she wanted with her child and James was thrilled that he would get to be a stand-in uncle for Y/n’s baby. But standing at the foot of the infant’s grave, neither were full of excitement, not an ounce of joy in them since a few nights before. 

Focused on the gravestone, Y/n wished that Tommy was beside her. That he had been by her side the whole time. But he wasn’t. He was fawning over Grace and her unborn child. Y/n doubted he would have done the same if she had told him about their baby the day she left him. He still would have chosen Grace. Even with that thought, she still placed his name on her daughter’s birth certificate and his last name was hers: Elena Rose Shelby. Even if the two never met, she was his daughter and Y/n wasn’t going to deny the world such knowledge.

*~~*~~* Let me know if you would like to be on any of the tag lists.

Permanent: @amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @auds24 @lucillethings @nemesis729 @sirkekselord @princesscornbread @i-volunteer-for-finnick @iwillboilyourteeth @anyasthoughts @ellieemais

Peaky Blinders:@simonsbluee

Thomas Shelby: @captivatedbycillianmurphy

[durmstrange]

Sweet Treat - George Weasley

Welcome back! This blurb is quite cute and I love it and coffee so much.  gif is not mine :)

Enjoy!

word count: 2,456

It had become rather quiet and secluded as you sat in one of the last shops in Diagon Alley.  All that seemed to be left was the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Gringott’s, and the Leaky Cauldron, which tended to be full of questionable folks.  You didn’t mind this, though, because it was the only place you had to live at the moment.  Death Eaters ravished your home a month and a half ago, and took your belongings when you were not home, before setting fire to the homestead, leaving you and your cat, Lillian, homeless.  

Thankfully, the Leaky Cauldron allowed pets, because you would be heartbroken without your precious Lillian.  You were previously working at the Ministry, long before it had fallen, but now, you found yourself without a job and with no income.  All you had to your name was your parents’ inheritance and the cat you loved dearly.  Your inheritance was locked away at Gringotts and you had too much pride to dip into it too much.  Even clothes were currently sparse for you, given you only had three outfits left from the fire.  

Sadly, you sipped the coffee the Leaky Cauldron supplied for you and stared down at the rough wood table.  You felt so defeated and alone.  You knew the people you considered to be your closest friends were just up the road, running a successful business despite what was going on in the world, and you knew they were probably worried senseless about you, but you had too much pride and hurt in your life to run to them for help.  

Perhaps you’d flee the country all together, and set up your new home somewhere else.  Get a job and work for the rest of your life, away from all of the darkness.  The options were endless and all seemed so bleak compared to the life you used to have.  You were lost in your thoughts when he came in.  You were thinking about perhaps buying an apartment somewhere in London, or even in Ireland.  A small, sad smile formed on your face as you stirred your coffee with the sugar stick lazily, waiting for all the sugar to dissolve in your hot coffee.  Your time focused on where you could go to escape persecution of the Death Eaters that were gaining control of the wizarding war.  

Your thoughts were interrupted by a small, chocolate-covered pastry being set down in front of you.  You glanced up quickly, meeting the familiar hazel eyes you missed for the last few weeks.  “Sweet treat for your thoughts?”  George Weasley asked you as he sat down across from you with a coffee and a similar treat.  His face was confused and hurt, something that made you feel oddly guilty.

Nonetheless, a small smile formed on your face.  “George.  It’s wonderful to see you again,” you told him and held your hand out, face up.  He placed his in yours and squeezed it gently, his eyes twinkling despite the horrible happenings in the world.  

“(Y/N),”  your friend greeted you.  Fred, George, and yourself used to be friends when you were all in school.  Once Fred and George left, you stayed in contact with them and even helped set up the shop, but you had come around less and less before your home was attacked.  “Why haven’t we heard from you?  Fred and I have been so worried, and when we went to your home-” he began, but your soft voice cut him off.  

“It had been burned by Death Eaters,” you murmured and glanced around the two of you.  Instinctively, you both leaned in to keep the conversation private.  “I’ve been in a low place since then, if I do say so myself, given that I’m muggleborn and all.  Also, staying here does not exactly lift one’s spirits.”  A crooked smile formed on your face at the joke, but George frowned and squeezed your hand gently.  

“You are staying here?”  He asked you quietly, and you never saw a more worried look on his face.  He was always more compassionate and sensitive than Fred, but at this moment, he was absolutely worried for you.  

Slowly, you nodded.  “Just Lillian and I,” you confirmed and stared at your coffee.  The concern he had for you was sweet, but you had avoided asking for help for a reason.   You didn’t need pity.  

For a moment, George was quiet, which was quite unusual for him.  He glanced around him once more and leaned in even closer.  “Come stay with Fred and I.  You will be safe with us, (Y/N), I promise you that,” he insisted to you with bright and wild eyes.  He had an idea in his head, and you were curious to know what it was.

Your mouth fell open slightly, and quickly, you shook your head in fear.  “Oh, no, I couldn’t.  I’m fine here, really.  I plan on leaving soon, anyways.  As soon as I can find somewhere to go.”  Your face reddened to rosy cheeks.  You were moderately embarrassed by his offer, given your current weak state.  It was out of pity.  

George’s eyes were wide with excitement.  “I insist.  It will be just like old times.  You could even help us out with the shop like before.  We could always use it,” he continued as your face simply reddened by the second.  

“George, I-” you began as you picked at the sweet treat he brought you.  You were flushed, and quite embarrassed, but his smile shown through all of it.  

“Shut your mouth and just agree already, (Y/N),” he interrupted and reached across the rickety old table, taking your hand and squeezing it softly.  The contact he made was so gentle and so warm, that your heart craved more.  

You sighed heavily, but squeezed his hand in return.  “All right,” you mumbled and tucked your hair behind your ear with your free hand.  

George jumped up, almost spilling what was left of his coffee, and beamed at you.  “Wonderful!  Let’s gather your things and move you and Lillian in, yeah?”  He offered you his hand.  Quickly, you finished your coffee and wrapped the pastry in a napkin, putting it in the pocket of your large jacket.  

You stood, taking George’s out stretch hand, and smiled softly.  You nodded in agreement and led him towards your room.  

~.~

With your rucksack on your shoulder and George carrying Lillian, his other lost friend, the two of you moved quickly towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.  George was talking on and on about the shop and how nice it has been to own it and sell the products they developed themselves, and you had never been so proud of him and Fred.  He spoke so quickly as he held your hand tightly, pulling you towards the colorful building, and kept glancing at you with bright smiles.  

Your heart melted at the sight of him so happy, and you never realized how much you missed how he made you feel every day of your life.  George was your everything for so long, and now it has been a little less than a month and a half since you laid eyes upon his sweet smile.  The feelings you had for him sparked once more, and now they were greater than ever.  You were unsure how you spent so much time alone.  

With George’s warm hand wrapped tightly around yours, you have never felt so safe.  

It felt like such a short distance before you were enveloped with the beautiful but empty shop and bright lights belonging to Fred and George’s works of art.  Granted, you had been in it since it opened, but it was much more magnificent than ever.  Your mouth fell open as you slowed to stop.  George stopped as well, confused, as he glanced back at you.  A small, warm smile formed on his face as he watched you gawk at everything around you.  “Wonderful, isn’t it?”  He asked you proudly.  

All you could muster was a simple nod as your mouth remained open, gazing at the tall ceilings stocked full of products and gadgets the same.  George led you up the crooked and turning stairs to the loft upstairs, where you were greeted by the other redhead you didn’t realize you missed so much.  “Freddie, look what the cat dragged in,” George announced loudly and stepped to the side, revealing you as you stepped in the door and smiled lightly.  

“(Y/N)!”  Fred exclaimed as he enveloped you into a tight hug, squeezing you as tight as ever.  He glanced at George as he set Lillian down.  “Quite seems as if you dragged the cat in, actually,” he teased his brother with a wink and let go of you and set you flat on your feet.  He looked back to you with blazoned eyes.  “Do you realize the worry you have caused?  Mum has been sick thinking about you!  We thought you died,” he scolded and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.  

You smiled softly and giggled quietly at his actions, a sound that was so foreign before today.  “I’ve missed you too, Fred,” you told him and glanced back at George, who was watching happily.  “I was worried I was going to be caught, you see.  I’ll have to tell Molly how truly sorry I am for causing worry.”  Your cheeks were reddened as you ducked your head.  

George walked forward, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you to his side.  “Our lovely friend here will be staying with us, seeing as how we saw her home’s condition ourselves,” he explained to his brother without skipping a beat, who smiled widely.  

“If you don’t mind, of course,” you added with an embarrassed and flustered smile.  

Fred nodded.  “Of course, moppet.  Anything for you.”  Fred’s voice was reassuring and gentle as he checked his watch.  “I’m going to go open shop.  George, help her settle in, yeah?”  Fred suggested with a wink, causing you to smile softly.  

George flushed.  “Still on that, are we?”  He asked his twin as he began to head down the stairs.  Fred often teased you and George that you were secretly in love and refused to tell anyone.  It had been so long since he joked about that.  “Sorry about that.”  George’s voice was uneven and a blush formed on his cheeks as he glanced at you and began walking down a hallway.  

You followed with a quirky smile on your face.  “Why?  Embarrassed that you used to fancy me?”  You asked him boldly and George reddened further.  

“No, of course not!”  He defended quickly.  “More embarrassed by the fact that you never fancied me back,” he muttered and opened a door for you, showing you a bland guest room.  You were surprised how plain it was, knowing the twins.  There were a few boxes stacked in one corner, most likely surplus inventory. 

You stood in the door way and tilted your head to the side.  “Says who?”  You challenged and George practically blanched.  A small laugh came from you as you glanced down at your hands.  “I liked you quite a bit, actually.  When you and Fred left, I was absolutely gutted.  Still am, actually,” you admitted with a small frown on your face as you looked anywhere but at George.  Lillian trotted by and onto your bed immediately, as if she knew that is where you’d be staying.  

He was quiet for a moment, most likely assessing the situation.  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”  He questioned and looked away.

A lump formed in your throat as you swallowed hard.  “You never told me either, actually.  I knew it was a joke that Fred said you liked me.  But I thought that was all it was, a joke,” you told him softly, trying to hide the sadness in your voice.  

George remained silent once more, his heart aching at your pathetic sight, and he reached forward, enveloping you in a gentle hug.  “(Y/N), I would never joke about that.  How could I hurt the girl I ever loved like that?”  George asked and listened as you began to sniffle.  

“You loved me?”  You whimpered out, and tried your hardest to keep the tears from falling.  

For a moment, there was silence in the loft.  Neither you nor George said a word.  “I never stopped,” George admitted you quietly, and you looked up at him, still searching his face for any sign of a joke.  

You swallowed hard and shook your head softly.  “Oh, George,” you whispered and put your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your height and pressing your lips to his quickly.  George responded fully, pulling your body tight against his and kissing you hungrily.  

Once the two of you pulled away, you were breathing heavily and a smile would not fade from George’s face.  “You have no idea how long I have been wanting to do that,” he told you as you smiled.  

“Likewise.”  Your voice was quiet and nervous and you stepped from his arms and glanced at your watch.  It was nearing eleven in the morning, meaning the shop would be opening any moment.  

George checked the time as well.  There was a look on his face that told you he didn’t want to leave you at that moment.  “Well, this should make for an interesting boarding situation,” he mumbled and rested his hand hand on your cheek, allowing you to lean into it.  “I should go help Fred.”  He sighed gently and let his hands drop.  “Settle in, and we can talk tonight, yeah?”  He offered, and you nodded with a gentle smile on your lips.  

“Yeah,” you agreed.  With one last nod, George retreated down the hall with a smile on his face, as you put a hand over your heart.  Your breathing was shallow, but you were content, nonetheless.  You sat on the foreign bed and laid back, trying to comprehend the morning you had.

[inquisitive-mess]

A Slice of Happiness Part 1

Including Jane Paker @altairtalisman and mention of Amalia of Cleves @pandora-dusk

T/W: Mild Language

It was an early evening when Ann and Jane were standing in front of an upscale italian restaurant near West End of London. Ann was telling Jane that one of her customers told her about this place and how supposedly they had really good food. She also told her that she been wanted to check it out, but didn't want to go alone, because she doesn't like the feeling having people staring at her as she ate alone and was little scare on coming since it was close to the theatre. Jane already knew Ann situation understood that and took her on the offer, if she was willing to pay saying this in a joking matter, which Ann accepted it. Jane explain to her that she was kidding and said she would done it without her doing that, but Ann told Jane that she was the one who invited her and was going to pay for it to begin with. Jane soon admit defend and let her pay for it. They soon walk inside the building and enjoy their meal.

Once they were done with their meal, Jane said " At least your customer was right about the food. It was great and I really enjoyed it. Thanks for the invite." Ann replied back " It was nothing. I'm glad you like it. Maybe you can take Mali here one of these days for a date." This made Jane blush a little as she thought about them having a date here and how Mali would enjoy it. Jane smiled and said " I think I will, once we find the time to do so. " Ann then told Jane " I will give you guys money to pay for it. It's the least I do for ruining your guys date." Jane protested and explained to Ann " Ann, we talk about this. I don't blame you for what happen back then. The others think the same thing too. It was an accident and it could of happen to anyone. Plus you manage to calm yourself down once we were in the car for good amount of time and the others still enjoy their date in the end. Stop beating yourself up for it." Ann would like to believe Jane that it was alright, but she still feel awful on what happen. She thought she could handle it since she was with friends, but it just bought back bad memories of her past and how she vulnerable she still was.

The waiter soon came by and handed them the check folder. Ann took the check, look at cost on the bill inside it, pull out some cash of her jacket pocket, and put inside the check folder as they wait for waiter to come back. Jane still gets little amazed whenever she see Ann pulls out a stack of bills and how she treats it like this was normal. She remembered when she found out how well off Ann was when they went clothes shopping and Ann didn't seem to care how much it cost when the total came up. Ann did explain the reason why to Jane on the way home and Jane learn somethings about Ann and her way of thinking. Jane, in some way, admire Ann on how she hasn't fallen into temptation and lose herself, unlike other people who lose themselves into corruption or greed due to how much money they have. The waiter did come back to pick up the folder on the table and head to a register to pay out the bill.

As they were waiting, they heard a fellow patron yelling at table behind them " What do you mean it can't take my card? I told you that I have the funds to pay for it, what is it you can't understand?" Both Ann and Jane slowly turn their head just enough to see what was going on. They see an frustrated older man raising his voice at a scared young waitress. She try to stay calm and explain to the man in nervous tone " As I said earlier, we can't accept your card because out card machine is down and only taking cash. We have it posted as soon as you walk in and the hosts told you this also." The man looking more annoyed and told the waitress " How is that my problem? I only have cards with me. Who carries cash with them, anyway? You either going to accept my card or my meal will be free." Ann and Jane slowly moved their head back to their table and cringe at the scene of rudeness and entitlement. It's true they use to be nobility in their past life, but they can't ever recall being straight up jerks to people, even to least fortunate. Jane doesn't really encounter this much, but Ann does due to her job. Ann would see this at her shop once in a while and would of shut them down as soon as it happens. She would said something by now, but she didn't want to get involved and want to leave, so she and Jane can go home. Their waiter soon came back and hand them the check folder to show their bill was paid. Ann took the receipt and change, but left a few bills in the folder to give as a tip, put in her pocket, and they both got up from the table.

As this was happening, the manger of the restaurant came to older man table and ask him " Hello there, what seems to be the problem?" The man replied " Yes, there is. As I was telling your useless employee, I don't have cash with me and only have cards to pay for my bill, but she not take my payment. Something about the machine being down, which by the way is very inconvenient. So I told her that you guys either accept my card or walking out of here with a free meal." The manger listen to the man complain and wait until he was done talking to answer him " What my employee said is correct. Our card machine is down, which we are sorry for. We did post signs in front of the doors and inform the host about this to tell our customer about it. I'm sorry about the inconvenience, but as we stand now we only taking cash. If you are so adamant on using your card, I would be gladly take it, make paper copy of it, and manually type it into the system, so you do get charged." This cause the man to get really upset and cause him to stand up pushing the chair back to yell at the manager "Like hell I'm going to let you do that without me watching you guys put it in. I know for a fact you using this sad excuse to steal my card information, so you can charge me whatever amount. Nice try though. I'm going to take my stuff and leave here with a free meal."

Unknown to the older man that when he push the chair back, he cause a younger waiter carrying a dessert trip on the leg of the chair and send it flying to air, which end up hitting the side of Ann's face. Jane was in complete shock when she saw this and Ann just stand there as the plate fall on the floor. Ann pick up the plate and place it on the table, then she grab whatever dessert on her face with a napkin leaving some still on her and putting on the plate. She turn head to look at the young waiter on the ground with apologize look on his face expecting him to get yell at, but she knew it wasn't his fault this happen. She turn her head to the older man who was ready to leave and when she yell in angry tone " Hey asshole." This cause the man stop and everyone in the restaurant to look at them. Ann walk to the the man and continued "You think it okay to just assaulted someone and leave here without paying. What is wrong with you?" The man was took back this, but responded to Ann " What in the hell are you talking about? I didn't do a damn thing to you. You should be take this up with the dumb waiter who threw food at you." Ann was getting more irritated by this man and said " Well, maybe if you didn't decide to push your chair back while you were having a tantrum about not giving them your card to pay, he wouldn't have trip and fall, which cause this to happen." The man then spoke "Do you not know...." Ann interrupt him " I don't give a damn who the hell you are. All I see is that you're a entitled jerk who here trying to get free food because you didn't read the clearly mark sign on the doors or listen to the host when they told you this as you sat down and now you're blaming people due to it. Well, here some news for you, nobody here think you are in the right to treat the staff like this, especially since this was your fault. Now you have two choices, you either going to hand the manger your card to pay for your meal or I'm going to call the authorities and let you be charge with theft and assault. It's your choice." The man grumble, pull out his card, and gave to the manger. The manger then grab old credit card imprinter, made a paper copy in front of the man, gave the card back, and went to the back to type it into the system. While waiting, Jane help the young waiter off the floor, ask them if he okay, and walk next to Ann. She hasn't seen Ann this upset before and wonder what going to happen next. The manger soon came back, hand the receipt and the paper copy to the older man, he put in his pocket, and left the restaurant with angry look on this face.

Once the man left, Ann turn to the manger and waitress and said in a sincere voice" I'm sorry for disturbing your restaurant and ruining the experience for your customers. I take full responsibility for it and accept the punishment for it, but please don't hold my friend accountable. She just a innocent person in this and didn't know about I plan." Jane felt like Ann shouldn't get in trouble for what happen and was ready to defend her, but the manger spoke in a calm tone" In any normal circumstances I would of kick you out and ban you on coming back, but seeing as he started this, insulted my staff, and did unintentionally attack you. I could let this slide, but I don't want you do something like that again here. Do I make myself clear?" Both Jane and Ann nodded and said " Yes" The manger then told Ann "Also I like to say thank you for standing up for my staff. I know people sometimes don't appreciate them, but it's nice to see when people do care about them." The manger did ask the waitress if she okay and she smiled showing them she was okay. The manger soon said as the restaurant went back to normal " If you excuse me, I will take my left. I would like to say I'm sorry you got caught in this mess and got dirty from it. I would of comp your meal in some way, but see that you guys were on your way out. There really not much I do, but I can give this card and when you guys do come again, just show your waiter this and I will personally reduce the prices on your meals, how does that sound?" Ann would normally not accept this, since it goes against what she was taught, but she decided to accept it, the manger gave her the card, and when on their way to check on the staff involved. Jane and Ann soon left the restaurant and went on their way home.

As Ann was walking with Jane to her apartment, Ann try to hand Jane the card and said " Here. You can take Mali to the place next time you guys have a chance. " Jane try to protect, but Ann explained " Look Jane, I know you told me not worry about what happen on your date, but it still bothers me that I kind of ruin it. So please accept this? It would show at least I try." Jane couldn't resist Ann pled since she know Ann wasn't going to drop it, so she took the card and put in her pocket as they continue walk. They soon got to Jane's place and ready to say their goodbye when Jane ask " Hey Ann, you could come inside and wash off the remain food crumbs still on you?" Ann shook her head and said " Thanks for the offer, but I need to go home, so I can wash my hair out completely to remove whatever that food was and wash my jacket as well, especially since it has a strong smell to alcohol to it. I wonder what was that dessert anyway?" Jane walk up to Ann, stick one of fingers out to wipe off one of the food crumbs on Ann's jacket, took a sniff of it, and recognized the smell. Jane then answer her as she clean her finger with a cloth" If I took guess by the smell and what it look like in the restaurant, I would say it was tiramisu." Ann looked confused and Jane then remembered that Ann wasn't familiar with sweets. Jane explained " Sorry, I forgot you not a sweet person. It's an Italian dessert where it has ladyfingers dipped in coffee that layer with whipped mascarpone cheese, egg, sugar, and had powder cocoa. Sometimes they put liquor in it for a extra kick. Mali and I had try some before. It was really good. I think you may like it, since it isn't that sweet." Ann listen to Jane and though of maybe trying it out. Ann nodded and said " Well, I better get going. See you later then." They soon part ways and Ann head home to get herself clean up from tonight mess and get ready for work tomorrow.

Next

[3pirouette]

Fic: The Honey Trap (4/?)

Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Story Summary: Peggy’d lost count. She wasn’t sure if she was a double or triple agent at this point, and in the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting out of this alive.

Chapter Summary: She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.

Chapter A/N: Again, eyes to the time stamps. :) Progress will be slow and steady with this, and likely interrupted by Steggy Week on Tumblr, but it is far from abandoned. Thank you for all the support with this so far.

Chapter 4: The Theatrics

October 1944

Peggy pulled the door of the bathroom shut behind her, finally letting out a shaky breath as she flipped the lock into place. She nearly stumbled to the sink, leaning her hands on the cold porcelain.

She needed something to ground her.

She looked up into the mirror, and knew it was a mistake.

Her eyes gave it all away, at least to her. They told volumes of how much it hurt, how much she was lying. She needed to get that under control, and fast, or the last four weeks of work were lost.

It hadn’t been difficult, at first, to slip into the typing pool. The work was boring and tedious but necessary, and she at least could make herself feel somewhat better knowing she was still doing important work for the war effort while she sat and waited for Wallace.

But after a few days, word got around and her co-workers got bold.

First it was Mary, at the next typewriter over, asking casually if Peggy had a beau. Then Florence from across the aisle piped in that she’d heard Peggy knew Captain America. She couldn’t exactly deny it, she needed word to get around so Wallace had a reason to talk to her, to pull her into Hydra, so she tried avoiding it. She hemmed and hawed, tried to look both lovelorn and sad.

She found that wasn’t too hard: she missed Steve terribly and the last image she had of him was burned into her brain. His sad, broken blue eyes watching her leave after smacking him wouldn’t leave her.

But then some of her co-workers got audacious.

She’d been under cover before, even deep cover where she’d had to say and do things she didn’t believe in or would have never done as herself to get information or to get what she needed. She knew this was no exception. But she’d never been in a situation where what she was lying about was so close to the truth. Pretending to betray crown and country was part of the job. She’d believed this would be no different.

Except the first time she heard one of the guys in the mailroom joke about her ‘serving under Captain America’ she felt all the air rush from her like she’d been punched in the chest.

The jokes and insinuations got bolder and filthier and just like every other female in the place, she didn’t have much she could do about it besides take it.

But every comment hidden in a joke, every insinuation that she was easy, every filthy wink and every invasive question kept the wound of leaving Steve fresh, kept the fear of him not waiting for her, of him eventually believing her betrayal, wide open.

She almost couldn’t breathe sometimes with how much it hurt to sit and wait, knowing her coworkers were now snickering behind her back at the made-up stories, and knowing none of them understood how much she cared for that 98 pound man who’d stuttered at her in the backseat of a car as he called her beautiful.

She tried to separate it, to tell herself that she’d fallen in love with Steve, that he was the man waiting for her and missing her, and that the Peggy Carter she was playing had been betrayed and played by the famous “Captain America.” It rarely worked, though.

What she did know was that it was easy now to look sad and lost and just a little bit desperate as she struggled to make friends in the typing pool. She’d come into it thinking she’d have to be standoffish, that she’d have to force the story Wallace so desperately needed to let them infiltrate Hydra, but she was sickened at how easy it was to simply let it happen and how well her co-workers played into it.

Peggy ran the cold water and let her wrists sit under it until it was almost painful, enough to recenter her and bring her mind back into focus. She’s seen Wallace around the building, but he still hadn’t made contact.

There was still so much to be done, and no room for her own life and needs to get in the way, not with Hydra still a threat.

~*~

November, 1944

She strolled the street, arm in arm with Wallace. He was rambling on about taking her somewhere to dinner, but she just kept a tight smile on her face.

She couldn’t let him know her heart skipped a beat every time she saw a set of broad shoulders and blonde hair on every GI that passed them in the street. She couldn’t let him know she was both terrified and excited about maybe seeing Steve because she knew the 107th was in London.

“Maggie?”

His voice, and concerned gaze, shook her out of her reverie. She still didn’t answer to Maggie right away, but she’d asked him to call her that. Sometimes his tone was just a little too close to Steve’s and it made her heart ache when he called her “Peg.”. She smiled up at him. “Sorry, lost in the clouds for a second.”

He hid his concern well, but she could still see the quick flicker of his eyes. “Ah, that’s my Maggie.” He laughed it off, knowing they were being watched by Hydra. He’d been romancing her for two weeks now, and Hydra was still unsure if they could trust her. Wallace was trying to keep from pushing too hard, and she knew she needed to make a convincing sell to the men who were listening to their wire for the next few dates. “Always got her beautiful head in the clouds.”

If he’d been a real suitor, she would have stepped away, unlinked their arms, and marched herself right home. As it was, she could only smile. “Oh, you know me so well.” She tried to make her voice light, but she knew it was still tight and clipped. “What had you asked?”

He turned her down the next block and pointed at two restaurants only a few doors down from each other, smiling. “Pub or French Bistro?”

They went to dinner here often, the Hydra surveillance team was centered in a building on the corner, and it made it easy for them to listen in. Peggy bit her lip and pretended to think hard between the places after she saw the curtain on the window at the corner move. She hated being watched. Though she liked the idea of wasting Hydra’s money and resources on a French bistro, she knew the poor place had just as few resources as the pub, and at least at the pub there might be more noise, more distraction. She couldn’t make it easy, though. “Oh, Richard,” she started, sounding exasperated and pulling at this coat, “We’ve come down here for dinner nearly every time we’ve been out. What about the little Italian place a few blocks down? Or a good old fish and chip?”

Richard Wallace smiled. He was a good sport, and great undercover agent. Despite her anxiety, she felt safe working with him, and he always seemed to know exactly which tactic she was taking right when she was taking it. “Aw, Mags, I was just…” he laughed anxiously, but his eyes glinted. “I know I get a little predictable sometimes, but maybe next time, ok? I was hoping you’d say the bistro this time, and maybe we could have a nice dinner, just the two of us.”

She looked at the bistro façade sadly, her eyes catching the movement in the apartment window again. She squeezed his arm and he squeezed back. “I just… what with the rationing, it just makes me sad every time I go in and it doesn’t taste the same.”

“I know,” he turned, pulling her back against the brick behind them to allow other pedestrians to pass, nodding his head. “And a Sheppard’s pie always tastes the same, no matter what.”

“Quite,” she finished with a smile.

“It’s just…” he reached down and held her hand, then tapped out a few letters in morse code against her palm as he took a slow, deep breath for their eves droppers to hear. Say no he tapped out, smiling at her. “I was just hoping if I romanced you a bit, you’d see how serious I am about you. That I’m ready to take everything to the next level.”

She didn’t have to feign the distraction, the way her eyes turned sharply from his across the street. It wasn’t Steve, but Barnes and Dugan who drew her eye, the laugh of the latter ringing out bright on the dreary night. They didn’t see her, but it was enough to send her into a tailspin.

“Maggie, are you…”

“The soldiers…” she bit out quickly, turning back to him. “There are just so many tonight. Why are there so many?” She used the anxiety, let it fuel her as she pressed forward. “Do you think there will be an attack?”

“Maggie, I…”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” she clutched at his hands, squeezing tight. Up close, as she was, she could see the concern in his eyes for her. “When I was on the front, I knew what was coming. But now? Now I know nothing and I can’t stand not knowing and all you want to talk about is dating and duck a l’Orange?” She huffed, turning on her heel. “Richard, I—”

“I’ll take you home,” he interjected, turning her swiftly and moving her forward. “I didn’t mean to push.”

“No, I- I’m sorry. I’ve just been so nervous.” She stopped and took his hand gently. “I do like you, Richard.” She swallowed hard, but said the words she didn’t want to say anyway. “I was hurt, badly. And so very, very recently.” She looked down and away, with her head at just enough of an angle to see that their audience had ceased trying to hide and was watching inconspicuously from the window. “I just don’t know if I’m ready for that again.”

He lifted her chin with his hand, looking at her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, Maggie. Not like he did.”

She stared at him for a moment, then squeezed his hand. “You’re right. I think it’s best I go home tonight.”

“I’ll walk you, then,” he replied gently, moving them forward slowly.

You ok? He tapped out on her hand gently as they moved along the sidewalk.

Fine. She tapped back, head held high and straight forward.

They both knew it wasn’t the truth.

~*~

That Night

Dugan sat across from Barnes in the small Pub, eyeing his hat as the two men waited for their drinks. “You saw her, too, didn’t you?” he nearly whispered.

“I’m pretty sure it’s why Stevie didn’t want to come out tonight. He knows she’s here. Didn’t want to bump into her.” Barnes smiled up at the waiter as he dropped the mugs of beer off, pulling one towards him and taking a long pull. He winced at the warmth, but took another sip as warm beer was better than no beer.

Dugan winced himself, but was likewise undeterred. He looked at Barnes and folded his hands. “You ever get a clear story outta him about what happened?”

Bucky shook his head and looked away, smiling at a woman standing by the bar with her friend. “No.” He turned back to Dugan when another GI stepped up to the girl and her attention was pulled elsewhere. “No, I—” He sighed and stalled for time with another long drink. “Same bullshit he’s telling everyone.”

“Which is bullshit,” Dugan added, leaning on the table. “We both know the two of them weren’t just some… some…”

“She’s not some two-bit hussy sleeping with soldiers and Steve’s not an idiot.” Bucky bit out, remembering her face as he left her behind the mess, eyes wide with hurt and betrayal. “Stupid,” he mumbled, taking another sip, “but not an idiot.” Bucky shook his head and winced. “And neither is Phillips. No way the old man missed that clip in the newsreels.”

Dugan laughed, running his finger up and down the side of the mug, playing with the condensation. “Right? I was shocked as hell he let that get through.”

The two men were quiet for a moment, content to sip their warm beer and be anywhere other than a tented army base.

Bucky leaned back, spinning his empty mug and signaling for a refill. He let out a harsh sigh and shook his head as he pulled on his ear. “You don’t think… nah.”

Dugan chuckled and leaned forward. “That Phillips let that slip for a reason?”

Bucky leaned forward on the table in a flash, whispering. “It’s the only thing that makes sense- But, why?”

The men leaned back, silent, as the waiter dropped two more mugs on the table and took away the empty ones. They were ready for the warm, flat beer this time as they each took a sip, waiting and thinking.

“She is a spy,” Dugan started quietly. “Maybe she needed an out, or a cover, or something like that?”

Barnes shook his head, cradling his beer close to him. “But why drag Steve into it? Why all the theatrics?”

“She, uh…” Dugan swallowed hard and seemed a little uncomfortable bringing the obvious up. “She was with some guy. They did seem… close.”

Barnes slowly swallowed a mouthful of the beer, face sour. “I don’t like this at all.”

“The beer or the situation?” Dugan asked, trying to lighten the mood.

He winced. “Neither of them, any more than you like it.”

In one swift move Dugan drained the rest of his beer and stood, setting his bowler on his head. “C’mon. If she’s out an about, we better go keep him company inside somewhere before he gets into trouble.”

Bucky stood and drained his own mug, following out as he mumbled, “Stupid fool always seems to be getting himself in trouble, no matter what I do.”

[sirphillipcranestanaccount]

Breeching Propriety

I’m posting this here because it’s not polished enough to post on Ao3, but I desperately want it to be read, so heres the first part of my latest Philoise fic.

“Eloise,” Phillip gently whispered in his wife’s ear, “darling, wake up.” Phillip was lying in bed, on his side and stroking Eloise’s back as she lay sleeping face down. 

It was another uncharacteristically sunny day in Gloucestershire. It seemed days like this were growing in frequency; a phenomenon that Phillip couldn’t help but attribute to the arrival of Miss Eloise Bridgerton. He smiled to himself, admiring how lucky he was that she was now and forever Lady Eloise Crane.

“Mmmmmmhmphhh” Eloise replied into her pillow.

Eloise was not a graceful sleeper, she would often change positions throughout the night. In the morning, it wasn’t an uncommon sight to see her lying with her mouth open in some strange knotted position, the hairs that had fallen out of her braid plastered against her face. And though Phillip didn’t necessarily look forward to the occasional kicks that he would get at night, he was a heavy sleeper and it was more than worth it to wake up and see her in such a disheveled state. She didn’t look like the sleeping venus of paintings, but that demure state of repose was not something he cared to see anyway. He treasured this image of his wife, so beautifully messy, so alive even in her state of slumber. And he reveled in the fact that this part of her was just for him to see.

“You make a fair point dear, but what most people don’t understand about the agricultural benefits of Pisum sativum…” he started to tease, “better known as the pea plant, versus a bulk crop such as Hordeum vulgare, better known as barley, is that–”

“Please, no more,” Eloise interrupted, turning her body so that she was facing her husband, “There is only so much binomial nomenclature one can handle before noon.”

“How is it,” Phillip said with a smile, reaching to brush the errant hairs out of Eloise’s face “that I ended up marrying the most beautiful and most brilliant woman in the whole of England?”

“You didn’t, you are merely a besotted fool,” she replied, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

“No, that can’t be true,” Phillip said propping himself up and placing an arm over her so that his upper body was above hers. She adjusted her position so that she could look into his eyes, “for, as you may know,” he bent his elbows in order to kiss her neck,  “I have a reputation of being rather austere, aloof...” he moved his mouth up to her ear, “and quite discerning.”

Eloise laughed as Phillip blew on her ear, “Well then,” she put her hands on his cheeks, cradling his face, “consider me honored to have made such an austere, aloof, and discerning man as Sir Phillip Crane resort to hyperbole.”

Phillip gave Eloise a boyish smile, then flopped back down onto the be beside her. Eloise propped herself up into a sitting position and Phillip laid his head in her lap. She began stroking his face, lightly pulling the curls that spilled onto his forehead.

“What are your plans for today?” Phillip asked, pulling Eloise’s other hand up to his lips.

“I actually balanced the accounts yesterday,” she said thoughtfully, “so today I  just planned on writing some letters, reading, and having luncheon with our lovely children,” Phillip smiled. His heart soared every time she said “our children”. She had truly fit into the role of Oliver and Amanda’s mother with the same perfection that she fit everywhere else in his life, and seeing his children be loved unconditionally by this vibrant woman whom he loved so much absolutely elated him.

“It seems like such a nice day,” Eloise continued, “I think I might take them for a picnic if you’d care to join us.”

“I think I should like that very much” he replied.

“I think they will too,” she said placing a kiss on his forehead.

They sat for a minute in contented silence.

“How would you feel about going riding with me today? After we eat with the children” Phillip asked.

Eloise seemed somewhat taken aback, “Of course,” she said, still looking somewhat perplexed “might I ask why?”

“Well,” Phillip started “it seems a good enough day for it,” he nodded his head towards the window, “Additionally, I got to thinking about something the other day in my greenhouse,”

“As an austere, aloof, discerning man is want to do” Eloise teased.

“Indeed,” Phillip said with a smile, admiring Eloise’s hand.

“Pray tell, what were you thinking?” Eloise said.

“I realized that I have never seen you on a horse,” Phillip said.

Eloise’s eyebrows pinched together. “I suppose you haven’t. Is that a concern of yours?”

“Well, I’ve seen you shoot. Perhaps I’d like to see what other masculine pursuits you’re better at than me” Phillip said with a smile. Eloise gave him a good-natured eye-roll.

“Are you sure you want to find out?” she said with a smirk.

“Well, in all honesty,” Phillip said, his tone becoming slightly more serious, “I do actually quite enjoy riding, and it has been a long time since I’ve gotten to share it with someone”

“Well then, it’s settled,” Eloise said, planting another kiss on his forehead, “I would love to go riding with you.” 

“You’re too good to me, Lady Crane,” he said smiling up at her.

***********

“Daddy?” Amanda said into her father’s ear while he carried her on his back.

“Yes, Amanda?” Phillip answered, taking a deep breath before walking up the stairs to the third floor with an 8-year-old on his back.

“Do you think we could have a picnic for our luncheon every day?” she said sweetly.

“Obviously not, Amanda,” Oliver said with an eye roll. He was a few feet behind, holding one handle of the picnic basket while Eloise held the other. He had attempted to carry it  the whole way home by himself, but craftily switched it to the hand that Eloise had been holding when it became too much,  “what about when it rains?”

“Well obviously not when it’s raining,” Amanda said narrowing her eyes when she turned to look at her brother. She then turned back around and rested her chin on Phillip’s shoulder, resuming her sweet demeanor. “What do you think daddy?”

“Hmm,” Phillip said as they reached the top of the stairs, “I think that might rather get in the way of your lessons,”

“Every other day?” Amanda pushed. Eloise let out a laugh.

“How about,” Phillip said, squatting down to let Amanda off of his back, “we do it once a week?”

“Really?” Oliver and Amanda replied, almost in unison

“I don’t see why not, what do you think mama?” he said turning to Eloise. His gaze was soon followed by the eager gaze of Oliver and Amanda. 

“Honestly,” she paused to build anticipation, “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it first!”

“Thank you mama!” they both said, practically running to embrace Eloise. She lowered herself in order to give them a proper hug and they both left a kiss on her cheek. Eloise adored when the twins called her mama. She had really planned to let them call her whatever they wanted, but when “Miss Bridgerton” changed to “mother” after her and Phillip were married it felt nice. When, after a few weeks “mother” turned into “mama”, Eloise’s heart was so full it practically burst and she couldn’t imagine them calling her anything else.

“Ahem,” Phillip coughed dramatically, squatting with open arms.

“Very well,” Eloise feigned a sigh “I suppose your father deserves some credit,” She let the twins go and they ran into Phillip’s arms. He lifted them up in an embrace and Eloise thought her heart might burst again. She knew Phillip had so much love for his children and she was so happy that he finally wasn’t afraid to show it. She knew he still worried sometimes, worried that he would make a mistake. She worried sometimes that she might falter as well. But, with how much they all loved each other, Eloise couldn’t imagine anything but a bright future.

“Alright,” Eloise said opening the door to the nursery, “back to your lessons.” 

Phillip lowered the twins to the ground, tousling their hair before guiding them back into the room and giving a nod of courtesy to Mary, the maid who was turning out to be an astounding nurse. As the door shut behind him he offered his arm to Eloise. She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow and leaned in towards him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You were magnificent,” she said looking up into his eyes.

“I have a magnificent woman to thank for that,” He replied. 

As they walked into their bed-chamber to change into their riding clothes, they were met by Eloise’s lady’s maid.

“Sir Phillip, Lady Crane” she curtsied as they walked in the room.

“Good afternoon, Elizabeth” Eloise nodded in greeting.

“Unfortunately, my lady, I could not find a riding habit among your things,” Elizabeth said.

“Hmmm,” Eloise thought, trying to think of the last time she saw her riding habit, then “Oh! It must still be in London. My mother did mention that my trousseau was rather hastily gathered, and I suppose a riding habit is one of the more easily forgotten aspects of a woman’s wardrobe.”

“I do apologize, my lady,” Elizabeth said.

“Oh nonsense,” Eloise said with a jocular wave of dismissal, “it’s not your fault I decided to run away and get married”

Phillip let out a laugh and Eloise could swear she saw Elizabeth smirk before she asked “Will that be all my lady?”

“Yes Elizabeth, thank you,” Eloise said warmly. Once the door was shut, she turned to Phillip, “I’m so sorry Phillip, I was so excited to ride today.”

Phillip looked down at his wife, his heart melting at the sad little crinkle between her brows. He had an idea. At first, he thought to dismiss it, but then he remembered that this was Eloise. She had the same disregard for propriety that he did and she might’ve had the same thought herself.

“I don’t see why you couldn’t wear breeches,” Phillip said with a shrug.

At first, Eloise looked shocked, but then her shock turned into cautious excitement, “Really?” she said, with a leery expression.

“Of course,” Phillip replied, “I never saw the purpose of riding habits anyway, they look uncomfortable.”

“They are,” Eloise confirmed. “Though I think that it would also be incredibly uncomfortable to try and keep my clothes from falling off if I were wearing a pair of your breeches,” she said, looking down at her husband’s legs.

“And what a sight that would be,” Phillip teased. Eloise playfully swatted his chest. “In all seriousness,” he continued, “I’m sure in one of the bedroom closets there are clothes from my Eton days, those should fit you just fine.”

It seemed like before Eloise could even blink, Phillip had retrieved a pair of breeches, a pair of boots, and a muslin shirt. “No waistcoat?” Eloise joked. 

“I hope you weren’t expecting us to go riding in full dress,” Phillip said. 

“Phillip, I don’t expect you to do anything in full dress,” she said with a smile. And though she was being flirtatious, she also knew that Phillip didn’t wear a cravat, a waistcoat, or a tailcoat if he could help it.

“You, go get changed,” she said, taking the clothes from Phillip, “I think I will call for Elizabeth and see what we can devise so I can wear these without baring myself to any passersby”

Phillip’s brow furrowed. “I can try to find you something else.”

Eloise shook her head “Oh no, I’m sure these will do, I should just like to find something I can wear under the shirt. If I keep finicking over everything, we won’t be ready until sundown.”

“Are you sure? We can wait if you don’t feel comfortable,” Phillip said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sure,” Eloise said, expressing clarity by nodding each syllable, “you go change, I’ll meet you at the stables.”

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 5

I took a while to update, I thought about quitting sometimes, I won't lie, but, I started reading fanfics and books about Monarchy and regency era theme, and all my creativity came back.

Thank you as always, @theroomofreq who is very kind to me and helps me beta this story And to all my friends who need to listen to my crazy ideas

AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE (soon) 

| G. W |

It was barely dawn when that newspaper fell on the Weasleys' door and the elf caught it. It was like every other day, well rolled, with the ink still fresh, full of gossip, important news, and political speculation, in addition to that malicious hint that they introduced in the news, to be just mean to some stupid Viscount that was stolen - and deserved it - or a newly decorated Marquis who married a woman who struck him - and who also deserved it.

It was just another normal day.

Or so it was meant to be.

As soon as Ginny came down to breakfast, she felt that something was different in the air, or maybe it was the fact that her brothers and mother were on top of her father to be able to read the newspaper page too.

‘’Good morning.’’ She called, but no one paid any attention to her. ‘’What’s so important? Did we find a gold mine?’’ Ginny stood next to Ron, needing to tiptoe to read the main and most eye-catching story on the front page of the newspaper.

'’The - yet - Duke and Duchess of Godric’s Hollow, James and Lily Potter, open the doors of their country house, for the first time in 20 years, for the fiftieth Dueling Party.

Check out more information, and the guest list so far, on page 13.’’

‘’Were we invited?’’ Ginny asked, wanting her father to leave that page right away where showed a picture of the couple in front of their huge country house, with the two of them not looking so happy to pose for the camera.

‘‘We were.’’ Ron confirmed, still looking at the newspaper. ‘’I think… Did Mr Potter go crazy?’’

‘’Ron! Don't say that!’’ Molly slapped his son on the arm, scolding him. ‘’Arthur dear, do you know why… this? Lily's authorizing something like this to happen?’’

''James had talked about applying some measures at Godric's Hollow and some changes but ... I didn't imagine he would host the Dueling Party ... I mean, they have a pretty big list of guests.'' Father said, still standing at same page of the newspaper.

‘’I heard they think they know where their son is.’’ Fred said, a little quietly, as if saying something terrible.

‘’Lily will die looking for that son.. I don’t blame her, of course, but… It’s been almost 24 years, how does she think she can find the boy? Only Merlin knows who took him, where they took him…’’ Her mother put her hand on her chest, facing Ginny. ‘’We need to find you with a new dress.’’

‘‘No mom, please.’’ Ginny denied, looking back at the newspaper. ‘’But what if he’s really alive? How will they find him? Is that why they’re having the party this year?’’

‘’James says the boy was born with a brand.’‘ The father clarified. ‘’But I don’t know if that’s why they decided-- ’’

‘‘-- I’m sorry.’’ Henry’s voice interrupted Arthur’s, and the man bowed to everyone in the room. ''Mr. Weasley, I think you would like to accompany me.'' The man did not look at Ginny, as if he was afraid to show too much, holding a torn piece of paper tightly and having his left forearm grated and dirty. Had he fallen?

'‘Of course, Mr Figg. Excuse me, love.’’ Arthur kissed his wife respectfully and then followed Henry out of the dining room. Ginny almost ran after them, knowing it seemed to have something to do with her, just from the way Henry avoided looking at her.

She hated it when they made her look like a damsel in distress who couldn't distinguish fire from ice.

''Ginny, we will see this afternoon about your dress, and Ron, we also need to decide on new clothes for you ...'' Her mother continued to talk about the duties they would have for the next few days, but all Ginny could pay attention to was in Henry walking away. His cloak was torn in the back and it looked like he had just arrived - which was strange, because he never left in the morning, always preferring to go out in the afternoon when Ginny was at tea time with her mother, or at night, at dinner time. Henry always said that in the morning, it was the time that crazy people wake up and make a mess.

He looked over his shoulder after her dad turned the corner of the hall and disappeared towards the office, but he also followed the path before Ginny was able to have any appropriate reaction.

After his intrusion, and the delay for her father to return, Ginny had to be taken care of by another Auror (she was told that Henry needed to go to his office), and nowhere was Thomas as gentle and nice to her as Henry was. 

All morning, Ginny felt like she was being followed by a ghost, in silence for all the hours that passed, a little disconcerted that Thomas didn't like talking to her like Henry did - even though sometimes it was just yes and no - and when she had to leave the house to keep her mother company on the way to the center, Ginny was excited to at least hear different voices.

''Does Mrs. Potter know that I need to bring Mr. Figg?'' Ginny asked, looking at the windows they passed, daydreaming about those colorful and well-sewn dresses.

Even though her father was a Viscount, Arthur had been decorated one after the other 10 in front of him died, so there was not much inheritance for them to benefit from. They weren't really poor, Ginny could still choose a dress sewn by a top dressmaker on special occasions, but she knew that the family had far more limitations than other families who had a wardrobe all made just for them.

‘’I wouldn’t like you to bring him,’’ The mother started, raising her gloved hand as if she already knew that Ginny was going to interrupt her. "It's always quite threatening when he stays behind you wherever you go, and maybe that's what limits gentlemen to ask you out." The younger redhead bit her cheek, swallowing the urge to say what prevented men from getting close to her was that she was seen as crazy. ‘‘But your father would never let us leave the property without him following, so… Yes, Mrs. Potter already knows that Mr. Figg will be with you.’’

‘‘I thought they didn’t throw parties anymore.’’ She commented quietly, smiling at a lady who was looking at her a little terrified, pulling her little daughter aside when Ginny passed.

Ah, London hospitality, always so pleasant.

‘’We all thought so.’’ Molly spread the fan in her hands, fanning herself because of the heat that seemed to be almost deadly. ‘‘But it looks like Mrs. Potter is tired of leaving the doors closed.’’

‘’I don’t remember visiting their house.’’

‘’You first came right when you were born, we introduced you to them. We have a picture of you and little Harry in the crib.'' Her mother sighed, stopping in front of the shop for hats, gloves and other accessories (not as chic as the one on the top street where jewelry was sold) and smiled at Ginny . ‘’Let's go in, I want to see if we can find some hats for you. Maybe there is a suitor who captures your heart during the Dueling Party.’’

[...]

‘'The Dueling Party …’’ Ginny repeated, rereading the news for the tenth time. ‘’Do you know what they say about this party?’’ She asked, looking over her shoulder at Thomas, standing behind her, while she was dining alone.

He denied. Ginny snorted, annoyed by the silence.

‘’Do you know where Mr. Figg is?’’ It was a lot more fun to have dinner with his company.

‘’No, Miss.’’

‘’Do you know when he comes back?’’

‘‘No, Miss.’’ Ginny turned to the untouched plate in front of her. Her father had spent the day outside, just like Henry, Ron had gone out with Fred somewhere, and her mother had already gone to bed, saying she was having a headache from the heat. She sighed, alone.

Thomas was married, not that he told her, she had seen the ring in his hand, and Ginny hoped he would be more talkative outside of work, or she would send her condolences to the poor woman who was married to a ghost.

The day had been quite boring, even after going out with her mother - which resulted in her buying a new hat - her father had sent a Patron with strict orders not to leave the house. Not even to fly. So Ginny spent the afternoon reading, knitting, and even pruning some flowers. All without saying much, since Thomas seemed to hate any human interaction.

At first, Henry was like that, too, quietly, until he seemed to feel sorry for Ginny's loneliness (and his own, since he was 24/7 by her side), and they started talking and she was even able to convince him sit at the table with her when no one was attending dinner.

But today, even after Thomas has been with her a few times, he still seemed to completely ignore the warmth and preferred to remain silent, leaving Ginny talking to herself.

When she thought about starting dinner - even though the chicken looked pale and the potatoes didn't look so appetizing - she heard footsteps toward the dining room, and before she could understand who was coming in, his voice boomed through the quiet room; ‘’Mr. Thomas, you can go to your home. Thank you very much.’’ Henry bowed to her a little. ‘’Good night, Miss Weasley, forgive me for being late.’’

‘’Good night, Mr. Figg.’’ ’Ginny had to bite her cheek to avoid the smile that wanted to break her face. The other Auror bowed to her and left the room, looking even relieved of an unknown tension that weighed on his shoulders. ‘’He doesn’t seem to like me very much.’’ She continued to look at the door through which the man had disappeared.

‘’If you want to know a secret,’’ Henry spoke softly, and approached her a little. ‘‘I don’t think he even likes himself.’’ Ginny laughed, her chest seeming to burn with that feeling of comfort that the man gave to her. It was always so simple to be around him, even when they were around several people and Henry was not allowed to give his real opinions (he would never give them, anyway, but Ginny knew that when it was just the two of them, he could be one little less judicious)

‘’May I know where you and my father have been?’’ She gave up on dinner, turning entirely to Henry and putting her arms on the back of the chair, resting her head there and staring at him curiously. ‘’It was a very boring day.’’

‘’Sorry to leave you, Miss.’’ Like a great gentleman he was, he nodded politely. ‘’But unfortunately I can’t tell you where we went. You’ll have to ask your father.’’

‘’And will he tell me?’’ She tried hopefully.

''I do not think so. Sorry.''

‘‘It’s not your fault.’’ She shrugged, only then really looking at him. Henry was still as he was yesterday; his slightly old and crooked glasses made his green eyes even bigger, Auror's clothes were so tightly buttoned and without any wrinkles that Ginny was embarrassed about her dress, which had a slightly worn hem. But unlike yesterday, she realized that his left hand was bandaged. ''What happened?''

‘’Ah… problems.’’ Henry shrugged. ‘’Another time we can discuss this, but I don’t think it is an issue for a lady who… still needs dinner.’’ He looked over her shoulder at her untouched plate - which now seemed to have gained color and life.

‘’Have you eaten yet?’’ Ginny turned around, slicing the chicken and smiling eagerly for him to sit with her.

''Already, Miss. Sorry.’’ Ginny could even hear his sad smile.

"But sit still, you know I hate to eat alone." She helped herself to the wine, having to bite her cheek again to keep from smiling and bursting into words she swallowed all day, when he sat in front of her. ‘’Can I ask you just one thing?’’

‘’For sure, Miss.’’ Henry seemed to want to disagree when Ginny spilled wine in his glass, but said nothing.

''Your bruised hand, the disappearance for the whole day, and the bloody story... has to do with me?'' She said, filling her mouth with a good forkful of chicken, peas and puree, staring at Henry with a pink color on his cheeks and he looked away from hers for a second.

‘’Yes, Miss.’’ He sighed, looking tense. ‘’But I’m not allowed to say more than that.’’ And then Henry pointed his finger at the walls around them, silent, and then at his own ear.

The walls have ears.

Ginny could not contain the reaction of bulging her eyes and looking at the large window beside them, which showed the entire backyard of the dark and lost yard in the darkness of the night, the trees making a lot of noise, as well as the wind whistling in the small openings of the glass and some old wood.

Henry was still staring at her, his green eyes almost seemed to enter her mind.

‘’What was I doing when I got the scar on my leg?’’ Ginny was alarmed, placing her hand on the wand at her waist, and the other holding the knife even stronger.

‘’You went up on the roof to save a cat, and when I thought was safe and tried to go up too, you slipped and cut your leg on a loose tile.’’ She blew out the air she seemed to be holding. ‘’I’m glad you remember to ask this, but it would have been too late,’’ Henry said, without taking his eyes off her. ‘’You have to do this when I arrive, not after inviting me to sit.’’ He warned her, his eyebrow dark and cut in half by the scar, rising and arching.

‘’I would know if you were an impostor.’’ For some reason she couldn’t take her eyes off him, feeling her chest burn and her hands tremble. And unlike any other time this happened, it was as if her magic was more controlled rather than totally insane inside Ginny.

‘’Miss didn’t seem so sure of that.’’ Henry didn’t seem bothered to look her in the eye either.

‘’I just doubted it. But I would know.’’ She didn’t know how, but something inside her said she would know.

‘’I’m happy that no imposter would take my place.’’ Henry smirked. ‘’I would also know how to differentiate you from an impostor.’’ And then he looked away at the window, and Ginny’s chest seemed to almost break without the pressure that was building there.

She even managed to fill her lungs with air.

| H. F |

‘’If you allow me to ask..’’ Ginny started, as they walked to the place where they were training duels. A place that Mr. Weasley had built after the clearing, where no one would get hurt or end up drawing much attention. It was not respectful for girls born in good families to know the art of dueling.

It was another day, nearly seven in the morning when Henry had to wake Ginny up so they could train the duel. After yesterday's threat, it would be necessary for her to be more than prepared if he could not defend her alone - but he was training even more so that it would not happen.

‘’Where do your scars come from? The one you have on your forehead. I mean.'' She pointed with her gloved hand at his forehead, almost touching where the lightning-like scar was marked on his skin.

‘’It’s too bloody a story for seven in the morning. And for a lady like you.’’ He kept up his education, already seeing the hut they haven’t visited in a few months, trying to ignore the feeling of failure due to having to make a woman like her, needing to learn the art of dueling. Dueling with an auror, to top it off, and not with figures he would transfigure, as he did for the boys who had been a tutor a few years ago.

No Auror learned to duel as Ginny Weasley needed to learn.

Women usually - if they learned to duel - did it with transfigured birds, wooden figures, and sometimes, if it was very necessary, the teacher would participate or call another woman who also trained, so that they would duel.

Ginny was dueling with an Auror who could do this even with his eyes closed, and who had already killed so many men that he almost needed a third hand to count how many.

''Well, if I'm asking for the story of your scar, I'm wise enough to know that I'm going to hear a bloody story.'' Henry opened the wooden hut door for her to enter first, and the smell of damp wood and dust entered their noses. Sunlight passed through broken planks and windows, and the lack of furniture (or what was left over and already broken) caused their voices to echo.

‘’They tried to kill me when I was a kid.’’ He didn’t have to look at her to see her eyes bulge, instead he walked to his usual place and started getting ready for them to start dueling.

‘’Who would do that ?! This is ... This is horrible!’’

‘’I know, Miss.’’ Henry never doubted that. ''But you would be astonished at how many crazy people there are.'' He saw her getting ready across the room, taking off the cloak, gloves and hat that her mother insisted she really wear, even inside the property.

‘’How did you get out alive?’’ Her brown eyes looked a little horrified and a little angry, as if she wanted to protect him. Henry wanted to laugh at the concern of a Viscount's daughter, at a poor man like him. In no dream or hallucination would a woman so above him look at him and speak as she did, always so friendly, seeming not even to notice how foolish she left him.

Henry was only above the bourgeois and, obviously, the miserable and squib (a class that his mother, unfortunately, belonged to), and by very little yet. If it weren't for sheer luck and being in the right place at the right time, Henry would never know what it was like to step inside the Auror Department.

‘‘My mom saved me.’’ He said, simply, but Ginny was still staring at him absurdly. ‘’In fact, she’s not my birth mother… My birth mother died at the hands of the Death Eaters. But she has looked after me since one of the Death Eaters tried to kill me, and here I am, safe and sound.’’

''I've never seen a spell that left a scar.'' She approached, eyes fixed on Henry's forehead, and her bare hand touched his skin, making him shiver and make him walk away in fright, as if her touch burned his face. ‘‘Sorry.’’ Ginny blushed furiously, still looking more scared, withdrawing her hand.

'’It's okay, Miss.’’ Henry swallowed, the wand in his hand shaking slightly, as if the magic wanted to explode out of it at all costs. ‘’And, I don’t know how I came out with just a scar. Maybe my magic saved me.’’

‘’Yeah… maybe it is.’’ Ginny now looked into his eyes, looking a little too serious, the brown eyes that Henry thought were so beautiful, seemed to carry a mountain of feelings that she would never let out. At least, not for him. ‘’Come on… let’s train.’’ And then she turned her back on him, the purple robes making her look like a witch from a Muggle fairy tale. Her hair tied tightly in the braid made her look a little more challenging than she usually was.

Henry knew he would never find a woman more beautiful than she was, and he cursed himself for thinking of her that way.

‘’We’re going to start.’’ He had to breathe deeply, before getting back in line and starting.

They bowed to each other in a sign of respect - if there was any respect in a duel - and then raised their wands.

Ginny and Henry had already dueled a few times, much more than a lady should, and he knew that she was really good and that if they accepted women at the Auror Academy, she would be even better than most the men who worked there. But whenever they dueled, Henry felt that electricity running in his wand, making it difficult to keep the spells for a long time, as if his wands refused to duel.

The magic was out of control - that's why Mr. Weasley had a hut built away from everyone and empty - and he could see the intensity of her magic almost greater than his. There always seemed to be something missing to make his strengths equal, and Henry thought that maybe it was the fact that he always feared for hurting her, while Ginny was instructed to use all her strength.

‘’Expelliarmus.’’ He whispered to himself

‘‘Estupor.’’ Ginny also spoke in an almost lower tone than Henry, and then the spells dueled, and the electricity almost looked like it was about to kill him. His arm was shaking, and the strength of the spells facing each other made the boards tremble and the rest of the entire furniture began to want to dismantle.

But for some reason Ginny lost her focus, and then Henry's magic won and her wand flew into his hands, just as her body stumbled over the furniture behind her.

He also lost his balance, and had it not been for the table well placed behind him, he would have been shamefully thrown back.

‘’I heard a noise.’’ She said, startled. ''I saw someone passing by, behind the house.'' And as if all the strength was suddenly recovered, Henry stood up and looked behind him, through the gaps in the wood where all you could see was the forest.

‘’Are you sure?’’ He asked, already casting a protective spell around them and throwing her wand at her, walking towards her and keeping her behind him - even though she insisted on going to his side.

''Yes. I saw someone. It wasn't a deer or anything. It was a person.’’ Henry’s magic trembled again, and just for safety, he cast three more protective spells around them, and grabbed her arm, pulling her out of the house. ''Don't let me stay behind, someone can hit me from behind and you won't even see.'' She complained when he once again put his body in front of hers, stamping her feet next to Henry, who was looking at the forest silent around them.

‘’Miss, you will stay in the circle of protection, while I will see if there is anyone, understood?’’ He stared at her, the taste of blood dominating the palate with the idea of ​​yet another crazy men trying to kill her.

''But I--''

‘’--Don’t make me petrify you. And I will. ’’ Henry didn’t even give her time to complain, throwing more protections around her, stepping out of the circle and preparing to grab another idiot who tried to get close to Ginny.

Yesterday morning Henry had found a miserable boy, doing the dirty work for wealthy people, bringing with him a cursed Ginny doll and a letter detailing exactly what they would do when they caught her. Henry didn't even like to remember the fury that surrounded him when he read what they intended to do. Not even over his corpse, would anyone touch her.

They were starting to be more creative now. It was the second cursed item they tried to get to Ginny.

Making sure she was still safe - and she looked furious in the circle Henry had created - he started walking around, looking at the sides of the house and a little way through the trees, but never losing sight of Ginny, who was so well protected that he could barely hear her voice.

But maybe Henry should have paid attention to what she was screaming, or trying to scream, because when a spell tried to hit him and ricocheted away, he knew it was she who was protecting him, and that they were with visitors. But he saw no one.

Turning to her, even more furious, Henry felt protected once again, seeing that Ginny was also surrounding him with protective spells, and he made the sign that she needed to leave. He told her to Apparate, but Ginny stayed there, denying it while Henry felt his protective sense scream inside him.

Better him than her.

He hid behind a tree, still feeling protected, and concentrating on the image of Ginny and her mesmerizing eyes, Henry struggled to enter her mind, as they had trained exhaustively. But it always seemed easier with her.

''Apparate out of here.. Now.''

He ordered, even though that part of the Forest was strangely quiet. Had they given up?

‘’Not without you.’’ She snapped in his mind, and Henry wished he could shake her shoulders.

‘’You are more important than me.Get out. They won’t see you, you’re protected.’’

''Not. Without. You.''

Henry took a deep breath and looked behind the tree, looking for whoever it was, wondering what he would do with that stubborn woman. There was no more noise, no spell shining, everything was silent. Which was even more dangerous.

They wouldn't come and just shoot Henry and leave without even fighting. But he was not staying to see.

And if he could bet, he knew it was more dangerous for them to stay there, waiting for them to come back. They had done this once, killed a deer as a threat, so Henry knew there must be a dead animal somewhere nearby.

He would send a patronus to Robards.

'’Apparate to our safe place. I will meet you there.’’ He spoke to her, still in mind.

‘’Do you promise to go?’’

‘’I’m right behind you, Miss.’’

[artificialqueens]

Everything And More, 1/3 (Blu/Cheryl) - Juno

Summary: Blu and Cheryl discover they are soulmates … at the worst time possible. Does distance really make the heart grow fonder?

(A/N: This is a prequel to another fic I wrote which is on AO3, but can be read on its own too. Just wanted to do something with some DRUK girls, and there will be more to come! No CWs for this chapter. Hope you enjoy this so far.)

“Surprise, surprise!”

Cheryl had only had to open the door to the oddly quiet living room to instantly jump out of her skin the sight and sound of all her friends, the synchronised bangs of party poppers, streams of colours through the air. Something shattered in the kitchen through the open door at the back of the living room (most likely the walking hazard that was Kendall knocking a mug over), but shrieks and cheers covered up most of the noise.

She instantly turned backwards to meet Vivienne’s smug smile, as she stood behind her, and hit her with the paper KFC bag that was in her left hand.

“I knew you were doing this!” Cheryl cried, although really she would never have guessed.

“Give over, Chez, you had no idea. You thought we were just going for nuggets. Anyway, d’you like it?” Viv’s grin was a little forced.

“I love it! Babe, thank you so much!” Cheryl tugged Vivienne down the six inch difference in height to hug her round the neck.

A gentle ahem from inside the front room interrupted them, and Cheryl turned to Divina, standing waiting her turn.

“Divina did the decorations,” Viv muttered, but she needn’t have said; it was obvious by their precise locations and mix of pastels (but no other bright colours) that it was Divina’s hand leading all of this set up. Cheryl just dragged Divina towards them both, happy they’d put their mutual dislike aside even if it just for this.

“You didn’t think we’d let you go off to America without one last party, did you?” Divina exclaimed.

“Guys! You really shouldn’t have! Oh, I’m gonna cry!” Cheryl finally put down the KFC bag, nuggets spilling on the floor, to wipe her eyes.

Divina seized her by the cheeks. “Less of that, Cheryl, no tears today, okay? Come in and we’ll get the party going.” Divina steered Cheryl into the living room out of Vivienne’s arms, and Baga grinned as she handed her a mug.

But Cheryl knew better than to drink it right off the bat.

“What’s this, Bags?”

“Just coke,” Baga shrugged.

“Coke and what?”

“Coke and a mug.”

“Coke and what, Baga?”

But Baga just grinned. “Drink it and find out!”

Cheryl put the mug to her lips and … Oh, yes, coke and some fucking paint thinner, she realised. This was going to be an interesting afternoon. Just Baga feeding them all more and more alcohol from her mum’s special cupboard and topping it all up with water or apple juice or whatever hair-brained scheme Baga seemed to have thought up next.

Speaking of her mum …

“Viv,” Cheryl realised, turning to her, “does my mum know you’re all here?”

Vivienne blinked and looked at the painting on the wall.

“Viv! Tell me!”

“What are we playing first, girls?” Baga ignored Cheryl, steering her to the dining table which was large enough for six, and littered with bottles and cans. “Make space! Cards? Anyone brought cards?”

“Baga, no way, I told you I’m not playing Ring Of Fire again.” Kat folded her arms, glaring at her.

“Shut up, Kat. Who wants Ring Of Fire?”

“I’ve got a deck of cards!” Vivienne declared, producing one from her bra.

“No way am I playing with those.” This time it was Divina’s turn to put her foot down. “Not when they’ve spent all morning in Vivienne’s tits. I might catch something.”

“Only thing you’ll catch is some class, girl.” Vivienne replied smoothly.

“Class? From you? I don’t think.”

“Okay, okay!” Baga huffed. “Jesus Christ, you lot. Someone else suggest something then. Chez, get that down your neck.”

Cheryl focused on drinking while the others argued about the game. Viv and Divina kept shooting barbs at each other, with Vinegar egging them on and Sum waving her hands in the air trying to calm both of them down. Baga’s face grew redder and redder as she fought not to shout at them, while Crystal, Kat and Kendall went to the back door to vape.

Wait.

“Is Blu not coming?” Cheryl asked in the kitchen, but the argument was reaching a crescendo. She drained the mug and went outside to the back garden. Crystal was blowing smoke rings, while Kat and Kendall sat in the grass, legs intertwined, passing Kendall’s vape pen between them and picking at the daisies.  

“Where’s Blu?” Cheryl asked Crystal, thinking Kat and Kendall were too preoccupied for company.

“She’s still got flu,” Crystal replied, blowing a cloud of smoke through the centre of her newest smoke ring. “She couldn’t come.”

——

Fuck this. Fuck the flu.

Blu felt like shit, and not just because of the flu. She was missing Cheryl’s surprise party. God, what irony. She hadn’t missed a day of term over the whole of sixth form, and now she had the worst flu of her life at the end of the summer holidays, right before everyone was going to uni and right before Cheryl was flying to America.

She looked down at her phone from earlier when she’d messaged Viv.

Blu: sorry im still sick

Blu: mam wont let me out the house

Blu: best i can hope for is to be better for monday to come to the airport

Viv: Can’t be helped girl xx

Viv: Hope your feelin better soon xx

She’d wanted to see Cheryl’s face when Viv brought her in for the surprise, because Cheryl would never guess in a million years and her face would be a picture.

She’d wanted to savour every minute she was still with her best friend before he had to get on the plane and go on that scholarship.

She’d wanted to give Cheryl her present at the party. Nothing worth a lot of money, or big, but something that meant a lot to Blu and she hoped to Cheryl too.

Sighing, she looked over at the corner where it was wrapped, ready to go. Where she’d almost fallen on it this morning, getting up and out of bed. Telling her ma she felt fine, before her unsteady legs gave out under her and she crashed into the wall.

It sucks being in bed all day.

She looked down at her watch - one of those new ones with the soulmate-finder on it, to see that the day was moving frustratingly slowly. There was nothing onTV, she’d watched what felt like the whole of Netflix, and she still didn’t really want to eat.

With a growl of frustration, she tugged the duvet over her head and snuggled down, hoping that being good and staying in bed would help her fever hurry the fuck up and leave her in time for Monday.

Then I can say bye.

She couldn’t let Cheryl go without saying goodbye. Cheryl was far more than her best friend.

Coming over from Belfast after her parents’ divorce two years ago felt like wrenching a tree from its roots and trying to plant it in rocks. London was too big, and even now Blu still wasn’t altogether used to central London, but here on the outskirts wasn’t as bad.

In addition to a different country, she’d had to shift her studies here too, and her first day at her new school had felt like all the wires in her brain had been rearranged. Besides, having the badge of honour of being the New Girl among these sixth formers who had already known each other for five years was never going to be straightforward.

But her first lesson, on her first day, Business Studies, had seen the prefect Cheryl toss her hair back from her shoulders and pat the empty space at the desk next to her, her smile charming and so fucking genuine.

It had been all Blu had needed for something hot to blossom in her chest.

She’d been so confused. Back at school in Belfast, she’d convinced herself having crushes on her girl friends was just a phase, as her ma had said, and she would grow out of it. But meeting Cheryl had made her sure that it definitely wasn’t just a phase. The crushes she’d had in Belfast came and went, like clouds on a windy day; like the boys who had entered her life but who had never felt real, and had let her go like the wisp of smoke she turned into. But Blu had never once moved on from Cheryl. Cheryl was the sky beyond the clouds. In her mind now, that was all there was.

Blu had shook when she’d told her ma she was certain now, over Christmas holidays in Year 12 - certain that she didlike girls, this wasn’t going away, and there was This Girl in her life now, and This Girl was incredible, kind, talented, gorgeous … and probably as straight as a poker. And her ma had nodded along with her confession, reassured her, let her cry at the relief.

Cheryl remained This Girl.

Incredible, kind, talented, gorgeous, and Blu was convinced poker-straight.

Blu opened her eyes, stunned to see the clock had moved on to seven pm in what felt like no time at all. She’d slept, by some miracle.

Her throat felt much better, too.

——

Three rounds of Ring Of Fire and countless attempts at Among Us later, and Cheryl was warm and drunk and swaying happily to the music from Divina’s Spotify playlist. Among Us had gone to pieces after everyone had collectively decided that Crystal was just always going to be the imposter and Crystal made no attempt to dissuade them; simply flipping her hair back and winking at them.

Cheryl felt the familiar sensation of Vivienne’s fingers at the back of her neck, tugging her hair back to braid. It transported Cheryl to being in Year 7 again, when Cheryl had had her super-long hair, and Viv had been obsessed with braiding it at every opportunity. Now, with long gentle fingers at the base of her scalp, Cheryl let herself ascend to cloud nine of relaxation.

“You having a good time?” Viv asked softly.

It was a tone she didn’t really use with the rest of the group; her own quiet way of caring. Cheryl tried to nod.

“Stop it, girl, your braid is coming out!”

“Sorry. Viv? Mum did know about this party, didn’t she, babe?”

Vivienne cackled in response to Cheryl’s tentative question. “Of course she did, like Divina would have decorated your house like that if your mum hadn’t known about us giving you a party.”

Divina spun round at her name, her red hair seeming to flare up. “Vivienne, if you don’t stop -“

But Divina was interrupted by a sharp nudge in the ribs from Crystal, and a pointed glance to Sum, who Cheryl only just noticed was lying on the ground, her hands in her rucksack. She sat back up with an impish grin.

“Do you want to play some pass the parcel?” Sum asked, her eyelids drooping as she handed a parcel wrapped in brown paper to Cheryl. Her words were slurred; Sum was the lightweight of the group, for sure. Still, Cheryl was drunk enough not to think that pass the parcel was a stupid idea.

“Let’s do it then!” Cheryl shouted above the music. “Everyone get on the floor!”

“Some of us don’t need to go far, do we?”

“Shut up, Kendall, I’m not that short!”

“Just shut up and sit down, Baga,” Cheryl pulled her down to sit with them all. “Right - who’s got the music on?”

“Me,” Divina said, holding her phone up. “I’ll do the stops.”

The parcel took forever to go round everyone, with them all having a turn to unwrap a layer. After the seventh layer was unwrapped, Vivienne realised that Divina was not stopping the music when she had the parcel, resulting in yet another argument. But once everyone had had a turn, as expected, the parcel landed on Cheryl as the music stopped.

It was a small box, big enough to fit in her hands as she cupped it. It had to be the last layer before the gift was revealed. Obviously, Cheryl thought to herself, they’ve planned all of this.

She tore the paper off, and was stunned.

“This is - guys -“

Cheryl had seen the adverts for the soulmate-finding smart watches, but holding it in her hands … it felt surreal.

“We wanted to get you something meaningful,” Sum was smiling warmly as she spoke, “and so we all got together and bought you this watch.”

Sure, Cheryl would have loved to have owned one of these watches before, but they were so expensive and so new, that she thought it would probably be years before she’d own one at least. And now, here was the small box that held one, of her very own.

“God - you must have spent a fucking fortune on me, you didn’t have to do that …”

Cheryl found tears come readily to her eyes as Baga gave her a hug.

“Chez, it’s fine. Maybe now you’ll find an American soulmate!”

“Maybe.”

“And then you can stay in America and not come back!”

Cheryl forced a smile as she patted Baga on the back, letting the tears fall now.

“We’ll need to set you up before you go so when you get there you can meet some American as soon as you land. There’s some, like, personality quiz or something they make you take so they can set you up with a soulmate. Give me your phone and I’ll set you up.” Divina reached for Cheryl’s phone.

“Hey, hey, what makes you think you’re going to be setting her up, Divina?” Viv protested. “We all bought it, so we allget to do it.”

“Why can’t you fucking -“

“Shut the fuck up! Both of you!” Crystal shouted above them both; the only one still seemingly sober. “God, you’re both being fucking childish.”

“We’re all doing it,” Vinegar announced, and her authoritative tone as always caused the rest of the group to go quiet; Divina as docile as a lamb as she handed over Cheryl’s phone and the watch.

The nine of them poured the rest of the spirits and the mixers into each other’s mugs and glasses, and gathered round Vinegar as she downloaded the app onto Cheryl’s phone and started filling in the questions on the personality test.

They’d been a group for seven years, and although they didn’t always all get along now, it was the closest Cheryl felt to anyone. Cheryl glanced round at her friends, close as sisters but loyal as family, feeling tears hot in her eyes once again. The slight unnerving feeling in her gut that she had every now and then threatened to throw her off course again, intrusive thoughts creeping back in.

Is this the right thing?

Divina and Viv weren’t staring daggers at each other for the first time in the last month; instead working in tandem and chuckling softly at each other. Vinegar, her tongue worrying her lip in concentration, tapped answers to the questions as the girls called them. Kendall motioned to Kat with her vape, and the two backed away to the door of the kitchen, Sum following them.

A Levels had been and gone, and school was officially done. Cheryl’s scholarship to the prestigious Iman Performing Arts college in New York City was secured, plus the resettlement grant which would pay for moving costs.

She was the only one leaving England behind.

Blu would get it. Blu knows what it’s like to move countries. But Blu has the flu.

She giggled to herself at the rhyming thought, the only thing she could do to keep from crying again. Baga was already eyeing her to make sure she didn’t. The last thing she wanted was for her makeup to smear any more than it already was.

But it felt so much like her bubble of school, of normal life, was ending; ready for this new world of academia and New York to begin. It was a dream come true and a nightmare rolled into one. But Blu would understand, because she’d already moved to another country.

She wished for Blu more than ever at that moment.

Before she could think about it too much, her phone was thrust back into her hand by Vinegar, the questions all completed.

“There you are, babes.” Vinegar pointed to the bottom of the page. “If you like what we’ve done, just hit go.”

Cheryl didn’t feel as if all the words were going in, as she looked down the page, reading descriptions of herself, answers to family questions, life, hobbies, hopes and dreams. She could see the words, but they didn’t register; and as she read them, they felt as if they were describing someone else, someone who maybe existed in a mirror rather than a physical form.

When she got all to way to the top, she blinked at the ‘looking for’ box. Vinegar had entered Men, but Cheryl hesitated. That wasn’t … quite right.

This is it, Chez. Now or never.

Vodka was great for a confidence boost. She tapped the button where Vinegar had added that she was looking for Men, and changed it to Any gender instead.

A detail that wasn’t missed by Vinegar’s inquisitive gaze.

“Wait, hold on, hold on. Chez? Chez!”

Vivienne turned to look, and so did Divina and Baga.

“Oh, finally!” Baga exclaimed, dragging Cheryl back into a hug. “We wondered if you’d admit it before you left.”

“What? How did you know?” Cheryl cried.

But none of them would tell her; just smirking at one another and alternating her with hugs.

——

Cheryl’s flight wasn’t set to leave until five, but she had to be there three hours early to get through customs - how did that make sense, Blu thought, when she could arrive forty minutes before and still get back to Belfast - and so Blu had wanted to be there early, but there were so many people on the Tube, plus a breakdown at St Pancras, meaning she had barely any time to sprint across the glistening tiles at Heathrow airport.

Where is she?

The departures board said her flight was already going through baggage check in and security. There wasn’t much time. She followed the signs to the bag drop …

“Blu!”

Crystal was coming towards her, and Blu saw behind her Divina, Viv and Baga; all presumably having come down in Divina’s cramped little third-hand Ford KA. Viv was rubbing her eyes, and the telltale mascara lines on her cheeks told no lies.

“That’s it, then,” Crystal nodded, looking gravely at Blu. “She’s putting her bags through and then - well, she’s gone until Christmas.”

“You can still catch her after she comes out of baggage check in, Blu,” Divina said gently.

Blu didn’t pause to second guess; she sprinted past them, towards the baggage drop, watching people queue with their cases, looking at the queues for any sign of her.

And there she was.

Cheryl in the flesh, coming out of the baggage drop and about to ship herself almost halfway around the world; her normally perfect blonde hair tied off her face; her normally flawless makeup not even slightly present. Just Chez in a baggy shirt, denim jacket, and a pair of leggings, ready to fly. Ready to leave this bubble behind.

Blu had never loved her more.

Before she had the chance to call her, their eyes met. Blu watched them expand, the elated grin flood her face, and her arms open as Blu ran into them. Cheryl caught her, squeezed tightly …

Time stopped.

How was she meant to let Cheryl go? They’d only known each other these last two years …

They hadn’t had the time as besties the rest of them had had, but Blu knew that Cheryl just felt like a part of her now; as if each of them were a jigsaw with one piece of each other that fit perfectly.

It’s not the end. It’s not the end.

But as much as Blu repeated that to herself, something churned in her stomach at the thought of Cheryl leaving.

When time finally flooded back into their day, as Cheryl pulled away; Blu watched her green eyes fill with tears and Cheryl hurriedly wipe them away.

“Sorry,” Cheryl muttered, “I knew I was gonna cry at some point.”

“It’s alright,” Blu whispered, her own voice breaking too much to speak louder.

Cheryl nodded, taking Blu’s hand and squeezing, gazing at the ground, giving Blu as reassuring a smile as she could muster when she was evidently breaking in two.

“I’ll be back at Christmas,” Cheryl was murmuring, meeting Blu’s eyes again, “and in summer. That’s not long. Christmas is only, what, four months away. And we’ve got Skype. Facetime. Whatever. We’ve got - we’ve got everything. We’ll stay in touch. We will. We all will. We …”

“I know.” Blu nodded back at her. “We’ll talk - every day if you want, Cheryl.”

Cheryl nodded again, hitching her rucksack higher on her back.

“I have to go through security.”

“Before you go -“ Blu had almost forgotten. Her own present. She tugged it from her bag, small as it was, wrapped in brightly-coloured paper. Cheryl would probably guess at what it was from the size and shape, but she still rattled it next to her ear for good measure, before laughing and taking off her rucksack to put it in.

“I’ll open it on the plane.”

“Alright,” Blu replied, but Cheryl was frozen, her eyes wide, pleading. Asking something that Blu couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand.

“You don’t want to miss your plane, do you?” Blu whispered.

“No.” Cheryl took a deep breath. “Thank you, Blu.” And with a shy smile, she leaned in and ever so gently gave Blu a kiss on the cheek.

It was the last thing Blu expected. She held her breath, wishing time would stop again, wishing she could hold on to this moment, or drag Cheryl back off the plane. But they’d had so much time. Over school, over summer, and nowwasn’t the right moment.

“Bye, Blu. Thanks for the present. See you at Christmas.”

Blu feigned nonchalance. “If we let you back in the country.”

Finally, Cheryl managed a laugh. Squeezing Blu’s hand for the last time, Cheryl pulled away, finally letting her go.

Blu let her, and watched her walk away to the escalator up to Security, the first steps to her new life in America.

It was only when Blu reached up to wipe the tears from her eyes that she saw the blue notification light on her new watch. She hadn’t figured out what all the notification lights meant yet, so frowning, she tapped the button on the screen.

‘A soulmate is within a 10m radius. Please press the blue button to start your timer. You have one day for your soulmate to respond. You then have 100 hours to connect. Alternatively, please press the red button to decline this opportunity.’

Blu felt her legs tremble.

No fucking way.

She was frozen to the spot, reading the message over and over.

Turning her head back up, she watched Cheryl reach the top of the escalator. About to head to Departures.

Now was the only chance she would have before she lost her.

But Blu couldn’t move.

Finally, her legs seemed to obey her as she tore to the escalator, taking the steps three at a time, and at the top - sighing with relief - Cheryl was still there, putting her liquid items into the tiny plastic bags, draining her bottle of water to the last drop.

“Cheryl!”

Cheryl spun at the shrill sound of her name, a split second before Blu launched herself at her. She opened her arms and caught her a second time that day.

“Blu? What’s wrong? What -“

“We got you a soulmate watch, didn’t we?” Blu could barely catch her breath, her heart hammering. “Are you wearing it right now?”

“Yeah, it’s here,” Cheryl nodded, and held up her wrist. Something caught her eye, and frowning, she looked at it. “Why is there a light on it?”

Blu didn’t reply; she simply held up her own watch, with the same notification light.

“You’ve got a soulmate watch too? Wait, why is yours like that as well?” Cheryl said, but Blu didn’t need to respond. Cheryl’s mouth fell open, and she turned her eyes from the watch to Blu; who watched her realisation and her every thought as it crossed her face.

Cheryl - isn’t straight either?

“You -“ Cheryl’s eyes filled with the same easy tears that she always seemed to produce; always the easiest cryer of the group of them, always the most emotional. “I can’t believe it. You did, too?”

Blu nodded, weak with relief. “Since the start of sixth form.”

Cheryl gasped. “Since we got paired up for business studies! God, two years! Two years we’ve wasted, not doing this!”

Before she could ask what she meant, Cheryl tugged Blu towards her, closing the distance, kissing her lips; and it was everything and more that Blu had dreamed it would be. Cheryl might not have been wearing makeup, but she still smelled divine, her warmth a solace, a right place to be. Blu wrapped her arms around Cheryl’s waist, hoping to go deeper, but Cheryl let her go suddenly.

Blu saw her eyes cloud over once again.

“How am I meant to get on the plane if we’re -“

But she couldn’t finish the sentence, words failing Cheryl for probably the first time in her life. Blu looked at the Departures gates, ignoring everyone else around them, and took a deep breath, swallowing hard.

“For your dream, Cheryl,” Blu whispered. “This is what you’ve wanted forever. You’ve always said that. Remember - remember that day you got the scholarship through? When we were in class?”

“God, we got so drunk that day,” Cheryl giggled.

“Yeah, well, you need to go for your dream.”

“But - “ Cheryl swallowed, her voice an octave higher than usual. “But we’re soulmates, Blu.”

Her words wrapped themselves tightly around Blu’s heart, and she thought she’d never in her life forget the ice-cold sorrow in Cheryl’s voice … but she couldn’t let that influence anything rash.

She sniffed, trying to hold her tears back. “You have to go, Cheryl. You’ll miss your flight. I’ll be here for you, when you get off it again, at Christmas. I promise.” Blu rubbed her arm. “I’ll be right here, at Heathrow. Go get your dream, girl.”

“God, we’re stupid,” Cheryl muttered, “for not realising sooner.”

Blu pressed Accept on her watch, and a new message came up.

‘Thank you for selecting. Your soulmate has one day to respond. You will be notified when they make their decision.’

“Tap yours.”

Cheryl giggled. “Why? It’s definitely me.” But she did so anyway.

Blu felt her watch vibrate again, presumably with another message, but she didn’t care; Cheryl was here, and the watch had somehow made everything they’d both hidden for two years come into the light, fall into place like the missing jigsaw pieces.

“What - what now?”

But Cheryl didn’t reply; she grinned through her tears as she pulled Blu back towards her for a last kiss; one that felt like sustainment, like life itself. Blu could do nothing now but enjoy this moment, the final one for now.

Cheryl finally let her go, and Blu had to tell her to go before she changed her mind.

“Get your flight! Go and get your dream!”

Cheryl looked at the security desks, then wistfully at Blu.

“I’ll be back at Christmas, alright, babe?”

“I’ll be here for when you land. I promise.”

Blu let her go.

[omnivorousshipper]

Heyyyy! Can we have The Shaw siblings moving in with their mother and finding out how different life is than with their father. You can add a sprinkle of ✨past trauma✨ if you'd like.

Hey! I think I've done a similar prompt to these a long time ago, but I'm not sure if I'll be able to find it so I can find it for you

Btw. I'm making some lore here. Mama Shaw's first right hand man is name Jules, while second right hand man (so when the Sibs are adults) is named Jeffery and would be played by Colin Salmon (an amazing actor)

Warning: slapping, child abuse

~~~

When Deckard had answered the door one day, he had been shocked to see his mother standing there, a dangerous smile spreading over her face as she took in his bruised face. He has to wonder what she'd do if she found about the bruises and cuts on his back

She had given him a hug, a box of sweets, and asked where his father was. When he said the pub, she had asked if he and his siblings would like to go out for dinner. This had shocked Deckard. His parents had never taken him and his siblings out to eat before

Well, he could remember eating at a restaurant when he was really little, so probably before Owen was born. So, he had readily agreed and rushed to get Hattie and Owen ready

Luckily, the opportunity to do something made them behave as Deckard brushed their hair and got them into their favorite dresses

Dinner was an amazing affair, even if Deckard had to keep reaching over and whipping his siblings' faces of ice cream afterwards

Their mother seemed happy to talk to them and asked all about their school and hobbies. But Deckard couldn't help but see the dark glint in her eyes when none of the siblings talked about their father

When they had arrived home, several men were standing outside, but their mother simply ushered them inside. Standing in the living room had been another man and their father

"Ah, Jules. It looks like you've found my wayward husband." They mother had said smoothly, voice like silk wrapped around a knife. Deckard tightened his gripe on his siblings' hands. "Why don't you take the children upstairs while I have a talk with their father."

Deckard didn't trust this Jules person, but he smiled kindly at them as he gently coaxed them up the stairs. He had a small radio on him and let Owen play with it, the sound loud enough for Deckard not to hear any distinct words out of the shouting below them

Both Owen and Hattie had fallen asleep by the time their mother had come up stairs. Deckard had gotten them into his own bed as he talked with Jules. The man was very knowledgeable about knives

"Dex?" His mother called. She had changed clothes and her face looked recently washed. But his eyes still narrowed on the few drops of blood resting at the base of her neck, even though he couldn't see any cuts on her

"Yes, mum?"

"I want you to help your brother and sister pack tomorrow. I think it's time I let you three spend more time at your grandfather's farm."

Deckard frowned but nodded anyway

---

It had been half a year since that day and Deckard still hadn't gotten used to living in the country. His brother and sister might enjoy running around the large fields and getting dirty, but Deckard found himself missing the busy streets of London

Their grandfather's farm house had gotten a huge improvement as their mother had knocked down the original house and rebuilt it to be bigger and more spacious. Their grandfather was happy to have more room for his grandchildren. Especially with how rambunctious they could be. And with all the parties their mother seemed to enjoy throwing

Which, she was having one at the moment. She had firmly told them to stay out of sight and away from her guests. Deckard had no trouble following that order, but his siblings, that was a different story

He had been so absorbed in a book, he hadn't heard Hattie sneak out of his room. Owen was still absorbed in the football game he was listening to while she had grown bores

Hissing under his breath, Deckard snuck downstairs with her and hoped he would find her before their mother. He finally spotted her at the end of the hallway, just about to peek into the dinning room

He gently grabbed her elbow and whispered

"Hatts, we need to go back upstairs!"

"But I'm bored!" She whined as he pulled her back towards the stairs

"Oh? Now, who would you two be?" A loud voice called out, making the siblings freeze. Deckard swore he almost swallowed his tongue

Turning around, he saw many of his mother's guests peering out of the dinning room to look at them. Their mother looked livid

"My sister's kids." She lied easily. "You know she's always been found of babes."

"You're lucky to be an aunt to the cutest kids!" A woman cooed and waved at them. Deckard smiled politely and nodded

"Sorry, we need to get back to bed." He apologized. "Busy day at school."

With that, he dragged Hattie upstairs and back into his room. He could only hope they hadn't ruined the evening

---

Two hours later, with the guests gone and Owen and Hattie in bed, Deckard was called to his mother's study. She leaned against her large desk and narrowed her eyes as he stood in front of her, head bowed

"Deckard, I remember giving you explicit orders tonight. What were they?"

"Stay out of sight and be quiet." He mumbled

"And then, why did you and sister interrupt my meeting?"

"I didn't mean to," he sulked, raising his head to meet her eyes. That was the wrong move

His head snapped to the side as she slapped his cheek. A sharp gasp left his lips. It wasn't that the slap hurt necessarily; it stung, but he had experienced worse.

It was the shock that his mother had hit him that sent him nearly into tears

"When I give you an order, Deckard, I expect you to follow it to the letter. Understood?"

It took him a few moments to find his voice

"Yes, mum."

"When I tell you to keep your siblings in line, I mean it." She snapped

"Yes, mum."

"Make sure it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, mum."

"Good. Now get out of here."

Deckard didn't waste a second leaving the office, hand rubbing his cheek and ignoring the tears streaming down the stinging skin

~~~

I hope you enjoyed friend!

[julemmaes]

Alone together // part three

Matthew Fairchild and Lucie Herondale modern au

Okay I’m so so so so so sorry this is so late (and it sucks so I really don’t have any excuses) but I’ve been so caught up with my new gang (you don’t really wanna know about that) that I didn’t have time to do nothing.

I’m obviously blaming them cause it’s easier but reality is another one and it’s just that I’m a very shitty writer.

I wanna dedicate this part to one of my favourite human being. This is for you my love @taco-taco-belle, I hope you like it at least a little bit cause you’re literally the only reason I could do this:)

Words count: 4,535

"You gotta be shitting me." The guy took a break, laughing sarcastically and rubbing his hand to his face desperately. "You’re fucking with me." he whispered.

Lucie and Christopher, who were still arm in arm, exchanged a worried look before returning their attention to the empty shelf. The price tag as clear as the sun said Pot Noodles Original, but there wasn’t a single package in sight. It was as if suddenly everyone in London had decided to go to their trusted store and raided it.

Matthew seemed to be on the brink of a crisis.

Lucie was about to touch his arm, to get him away from what seemed to be his worst nightmare, but Christopher’s phone vibrated against her side. The boy didn’t seem to notice, and Lucie gave him a little nudge, "You got a message." Matthew turned to his friends, "If Jamie wants the noodles for Cordelia, tell him he can go fuck himself." Lucie chuckled and shook her head, thinking that if there was only one box and the message was really James’s, he would bring it to him running.

But Christopher’s expression was not amused at all, Lucie noticed, while reading the message. He paled, holding the phone tighter between his fingers, turning off the screen.

"Kit?" Matthew asked with a confused look, taking a step towards them to peek at who had texted him, but Christopher clutched his phone to his chest, looking lost. He blinked several times, trying to understand. Lucie and Matthew could almost feel the gears of his brain working, "It’s Grace, she..." he took a step back and the girl who was tied to his arm was forced to leave him. " I have to go, guys, I have to-" he interrupted, turning to Matthew, "I’m sorry Math, I can’t stay. I would stay if I could, you know, but I have to... I’ve got to go."

Matthew looked at Lucie worried, before shaking his head, "No, you don’t have to apologize. We’ll see you tomorrow." As soon as the words came out of the blond’s mouth, Christopher shot to the exit. Lucie remained motionless for a second before starting to chase after him, Matthew right behind her.

"Kit!" she screamed, trying to stop him, "What happened?"

They walked out of the store, waving at the owner, and Christopher stopped in the middle of the street, starting to walk backwards towards his car, "Something happened with Tatiana."

Lucie held her breath and heard Matthew whispering a soft shit.

Everyone knew Grace well.

When James had met her many years before he had managed to keep their friendship a secret for a few months, but his sister and his best friend had begun to notice strange behavior and they had asked him questions over questions until he gave in and told them everything. Grace’s parents had died when she was little and Tatiana, who had risked losing her son Jesse shortly before, had not thought twice about taking her under her wing, but things had become ugly in a very short time. She locked Grace in the house with her brother.

Tatiana had lost her father and her husband during a shooting in the centre and from that moment on, she had gone mad, locking herself in her small house in the countryside, far from everything and everyone, "far from the dangers of the city", she always told her brothers. She had closed herself up so much that Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Gideon had found out that she was pregnant only during the sixth month, when Tatiana was no longer able to hide it, avoiding to meet them inventing excuses not to let them visit.

"Do you need us to come along?" Matthew asked again as he began to walk with a quick pace towards Christopher, who shook his head "No, I have to go alone. I’ll call you if I need a hand." And then he turned around, got in the car and drove away.

Lucie took a deep breath, thinking about how hard this must have been for Grace, and how much Christopher already cared for the girl, to go help her in the middle of the night.

Damn, she should’ve gotten him to tell her what happened on their dates on the way to the market. Although with the distance between the house and the store she would surely be able to ask only the details of the first date, at least she would have done some gossip.

She was still tormenting her hands, thinking about her cousin, when Matthew put the scarf around her neck, placing it in her jacket, "Are you okay?" Lucie first looked at the scarf and then Matthew, with a raised eyebrow. He shrugged, "You were shaking, I’m fine even without it."

Lucie smiled at him and felt her stomach twist again as her cheeks turned red. She gritted her teeth, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

It had been a few weeks since she first realized that being around Matthew didn’t make her feel like it did before. That every night, when they met at the bar and their hands even just brushed, she needed a few seconds to recover from their contact. That every smile he gave her was like a fist to the chest pushing all the air out of her lungs.

There had been one episode in particular, that Lucie had decided not to tell anyone, in which he had passed behind her, laying his hands on her hips not to make her trip and she had dropped the two drinks she had just prepared, too shocked by the reaction of her body, which felt like electricity had just passed through her. Matthew had immediately moved her from the broken glass by lifting her up into the air and placing her behind him and then started to clean in her place, without saying a word. For that thing she got a very shitty lecture and had to apologize several times to Catarina, the owner of the bar.

"Are you listening to me, Lu?"

Lucie withdrew from her thoughts, nodding absentmindedly, "Sorry." she said shrugging, "It’s just that we’re all so exhausted from work and these-" she shook her hands midair, as if to indicate everything that was going on in their lives lately, "These things and we meet every night, that’s true, but I see how everyone would prefere to stay home and sleep."

"I don’t think they feel forced." Matthew answered with an arched eyebrow as he was shaken by a shiver. Lucie frowned, starting to undo her scarf, but a warm hand landed on hers and her brain shorted out again. "No, you keep it, I’m not cold." he smiled, moving a blonde strand that had fallen on his eyes. "If you start feeling too cold though, you tell me, I can survive a night without feeling warm."

"True, but you shouldn’t." He gave her a light thrust with his arm, winking at her.

Lucie flared up, focusing on not stepping on the pavement lines. "Anyway," she resumed, returning to the initial topic, "I’m not saying that they feel forced, I just think maybe we need a few days to relax." she scratched her forehead, squeezing her eyes for the light coming from inside the nearby Mc Donald’s. She saw Matthew nodding slightly.

He kept his eyes fixed on her, she could feel it. She felt it from the way every fiber of her being was yelling at her to move from his visual range or she would explode at any moment. She was going to talk, to ask him if he had done anything interesting last weekend (although she knew very well that he had stayed home to read the last drafts she had sent him) but she felt his hand slipping into hers and nearly choked on her own saliva. She looked from the ground to their hands and then, with a force she did not know he had, she looked at him.

Matthew’s green eyes were glimmering with an emotion that Lucie had only seen him turn to the people he had a relationship with. It was the same look Jesse had given her many times.

Matthew’s lips were bent up in a sincere smile, not into the one he reserved for the bar’s customers, but she noticed how they were twitching nervously and waiting for her reaction.

She gripped her fingers around Matthew’s hand and saw how his shoulders relaxed at that contact.

"I know a, uhm..." Lucie coughed, trying to clear her voice that had come out too low to be audible, and heard Matthew chuckled next to her, "I know a place where they make noodles 24/7. It takes a while to get there because it’s downtown, but it’s really nice."

"Lucie, if you’re kidding me right now, I swear I’m not talking to you anymore." Matthew had stopped, forcing her to stand in front of him, but the grip on her hand had become firmer and now their arms were a bridge between their bodies as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Lucie put her hand on her heart trying to hold back the laughs that threatened to come out seeing her friend’s face.

Matthew seemed to have seen the most beautiful thing in the world, his eyes glowed even more than before, and Lucie would have sworn to have seen a little drool dripping from his mouth before his tongue licked on his lower lip.

Lucie’s eyes darted away, "I swear on our friendship," Matthew made a coughing grin, taking a fist to cover his mouth, "that I am not lying to you and that the place is called Dear Lord, Ramen." a giggle escaped her control.

"Now I know for a fact that you’re fucking with me because there’s no way I don’t know about a place called like that." Matthew started walking again, this time closer to Lucie than he had ever been. So close that their shoes touched every step they took.

"Did I swear on our friendship or not?" she asked spying on his reaction with the corner of her eye.

She saw him nodding as if lost in thought and then they were silent for a while, while Lucie took them across the bridge to Potters Fields Park.

She began to feel her shoulders stiffen, perhaps she should not have specified that theirs was a friendship twice in a row, while they were holding hands at three o'clock in the middle of town when everyone else had left or stayed home because their other half was too tired to stay. God, now that Lucie was thinking about it, they were all alone because everyone else was holed up in their homes like old couples. Maybe Matthew was right, maybe they were all old dudes.

She cast a worried look in his direction trying to understand if her words had bothered him, but on Matthew’s face there was carelessness and what Lucie could only define as pure happiness. She relaxed again, detaching her hand from Matthew’s and before the boy could miss her presence, she put an arm around his and put their hands back together. He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side and leaving a kiss to her hair.

If someone had told her a few minutes before that the nigt would end with her and Matthew walking the cold streets of London, she would have never believed it.

They had just passed Christopher’s favorite cupcake shop, when Matthew interrupted that comfortable silence they had created, "Do you want to hear some bad noodle jokes?"

Lucie opened her eyes, smiling, "Of course I want to hear them."

Matthew cleared his throat, standing still, ready to recite the ugliest lines Lucie would ever hear in her whole life, she was sure, "Okay, then. What do you call a fake noodle?"

Lucie twisted her mouth thinking of an answer, "A needle?"

Matthew pulled back slightly, confusion in his eyes. "What? No-What?"

"I don’t know, I said the first thing I could think of." Lucie retorted.

"An impasta."

"Not funny, try harder."

"Rough crowd, I see." she scoffed, but he smiled widely, "My housemate told me he went to the noodle bar and got food poisoning..." he made a short break, to create suspance, "I was like ‘Why would you even order that? '"

Lucie sniffed a laugh through the nose, but nothing more. She turned to him, with an expression that said ‘can’t do anything better?'. Matthew then started making jokes over jokes, and even though Lucie seemed amused, nothing was really making her laugh. At least, that’s what she wanted the boy to believe. She was having the time of her life, and the fact that they were still holding hands was just a plus.

"Okay, since the good-guy jokes don’t seem to make you react, I’m gonna start with things a little bit… stronger."

Lucie tensed. The flirtatious behavior was a feature of Matthew’s. He always had it, and it was one of Lucie’s favorite things on the face of the earth, but in that moment, if he had made a sexual joke, she would probably have died on the spot. "Oh shut up. They were all beautiful and I’m dying of laughter." the fake laugh s made was one of the ugliest laughs either of them had ever heard, and that led to real laughter. Lucie hoped to have distracted Matthew from the idea of saying dirty things, but it didn’t seem to have worked when he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, turning slightly towards her and placing her hair behind her ear.

He got menacingly closer and when his lips touched her skin, a shiver ran down her back, paralyzing her. She felt the hairs of her arms standing up and her cheeks reddening, when Matthew came even closer, crushing her against his chest, "What do girls and noodles have in common?"

Lucie closed her eyes, trying not to think about the closeness of their bodies or the fact that Matthew was talking noodles to her, which if she focused too much on would have ruined what had just been created there. If it wasn’t for every point where their bodies were catching on fire, she would probably have laughed out loud, but as she was struggling to catch her breath, laughing was something completely foreign in that moment. All she could come up with was a feeble, "I don’t know."

She felt as Matthew’s lips bent upwards against her ear, "They both wiggle when you eat them." His voice became more hoarse than she had ever heard and had to hold back the sound of awe that went up her throat. Her eyes fluttered open.

She was about to turn to him and Matthew’s lips brushed her cheek. And she knew that if she moved half an inch she could finally kiss him. She moved in his arms and he made her back away a few steps until her body fully adhered to the wall of the bulding. He put his hand on her cheek, pushed her face up towards him.

They were looking each other in the eye and Lucie had described that color so many times on the pages of her notebooks that this could only be a dream. She had tried to capture that spark that made them so alive with dozens of words, but nothing had ever done justice to that green that she loved so much.

"Matthew."

Their lips grazed and then the ringing of a phone cut through the silence. The boy jumped backwards making an exasperated noise. Lucie tilted her head back and slammed it against the wall, closing her eyes, annoyed, while Matthew answered the call.

Obviously their first kiss would not have been in that moment.

Obviously something had to go wrong and ruin everything.

"Anna?" He asked him with a confused look, as he approached Lucie again, placing his hand on her face gently and fixing her scarf, as if it were something he did every day. Both of them opened wide tehir eyes when the girl shrieked through the phone, "Where the hell is Christopher?"

"He had to go to Grace’s place. Why?"

Lucie pulled away from the wall, telling Matthew to put the phone next to her so she could hear better. A very bad feeling was forming at the mouth of her stomach.

"Because he just texted me, ‘If mom and dad ask you, I’m sleeping at your place, don’t worry.’” she said in a slightly calmer voice, but always worried, "As if writing such a thing at three o'clock at night was normal." Anna snorted. Lucie pictured her passing her hand in the hair. "I’m out with Ari, but if he needs anything, we’ll get to him immediately."

"Nono, don’t worry about it." Lucie immediately said, taking the phone from Matthew’s hand. She knew how little free time the two girls had since Ari started working full-time, and that was the first night that the two of them could go out without having to worry about setting up too much. "He asked us to stay out of it this time and in case he needs help, Math and I will go."

"Oh hello Luce." Anna’s voice seemed more than pleased to find out that her cousin was with Matthew at that time and when the girl turned a questioning look to the boy, he scratched his head embarrassed while shrugging. "All right, by the way."

"Don’t worry, Kit is distracted, we all know that, but he seemed more lucid than I’ve ever seen him in my entire life. Nothing will happen." Lucie reassured her, while Matthew shook his head agreeing with her.

"If you say so." Anna sighed, "What are you doing anyway? Are you always with the others?"

Lucie started coughing thinking about what they were going to do a few seconds before they were interrupted and Matthew took the phone, hitting his hand on her back. Lucie couldn’t hear what Anna was saying.

"No, we’re going to eat."

"Yeah at three, yes."

"I don’t know where it is."

"Why do you want to come? Isn’t it your date night?"

"Wait, I’m asking Lucie."

"It’s at the cross between Lafone St and Gainsford St." she said in a raspy voice before he could ask her anything. Matthew raised an eyebrow, raising a thumb up as a sign of question. Are you all right? Lucie nodded, coughing one last time. She had to start reacting better to the image of the boy’s lips on hers, or she’d die soon.

"Alright, meet us there in about 20 minutes."

"No, we won’t be late."

"Anna."

Matthew’s tone became a warning and Lucie immediately realized that her cousin was teasing him. Anna wasn’t stupid, and if there was one person that Math told his feelings for her about, it had to be Anna. Lucie grimaced at him and then heard laughter on the other side of the line.

"See you later and say hello to Ari." Matthew hang up and sighed deeply, staring at the phone with amused eyes for a moment. He put it back in his pocket and gave Lucie a shy smile. He offered her arm and they started walking again as if nothing had happened.

But something had happened. And she couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of her lips so close to Matthew’s. And their breaths sharing the same air, or the name of the boy who came out like a prayer from her mouth.

They were now five minutes from the park when Matthew pulled away from her and clenched his fists, making Lucie’s eyebrows arch. She was gonna ask him if anything was wrong, if he’d rather go home or something, but he stopped for the third time and Lucie found herself thinking that they would never make it to the restaurant in time if he was about to push her against the nearest wall and started kissing her again and Anna would be right.

Probably if he kissed her right then, they’d never go to eat, and her house was just a few blocks away anyway.

But when Matthew turned, his face slightly pale, Lucie knew that there would be no new kisses. At least not that night. Because the expression on the boy’s face promised only broken dreams and hearts. She took a few steps back, embracing herself and trying not to look Matthew directly in the eye.

She knew she had hoped too much. She knew that night would be the only night she could pretend to be truly loved by someone. She knew Matthew would never consider her except as a friend. She’d already been in that situation, and if she could talk before the other one, maybe she could save herself the apology that someone had to make after an unwanted kiss.

"Lu I-" he whispered, turning a blind eye and rubbing his forehead, "shit."

"You don’t have to say it. I’ve already figured it out for myself." she said much more feebly than intended. "You’re lonely, I understand. It’s hard for me too to be in a group where everyone gets together and shows love to each other every five seconds." She smiled at him with watery eyes, always without meeting his eyes. She was fiddling with her fingernails, biting her lower lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry.

"Tonight was just a mistake, I get it. Really. But please don’t apologize." she replied with her eyes downcast. She didn’t want to hear it. If she said that, it would have hurt less, it would have been easier.

"What are you talking about?" Matthew asked, interrupting her train of thoughts.

Lucie felt brave enough to look up and Matthew had his eyes slightly opened, him mouth gaping, as if he didn’t understand why she was telling him all those things. "You mean… Are you saying that-" Matthew stuttered, taking a step towards her, putting his hands in his pocket, "Do you really think it was a mistake?"

Lucie swallowed visibly. She had never lied to Matthew. And she would not start now, even at the cost of making a fool of herself. She shook her head no lowering it again, but the surprised sigh that seemed almost a laugh from her friend made her raise an eyebrow.

"Oh Jesus, Lucie. How can you think those things," he sounded so happy, "after I almost kissed you against a wall and after we held hands for an hour?" he laughed. “I don’t go around holding hands with strangers, you know? I usually keep it for the special ones.”

Lucie felt a rush through her body, "You’re the one who started acting weird by letting go of my hand." she replied slightly raising her voice so that she could hear her.

Matthew laughed, "Yes, because I’m trying to tell you that I like you and I’m nervous, Lu."

Lucie’s head snapped up, and she finally looked Matthew right in the eye. His cheeks were red and he was torturing the edge of his jacket. Well, it was obvious he was nervous.

But she didn’t care that he wasn’t relaxed. She was more interested in the fact that the guy who had driven her crazy the last few months just told her he liked her.

"I thought," she shallowed again, "I thought you were gonna tell me it can’t work. I’ve been there, Math." Lucie noticed how he gritted his teeth before he spoke.

"Yes, I know. And it also seemed to me that we had already talked about the fact that the only one who lost something was him."

"I don’t want to talk about Jesse now." she murmured, approaching him.

He made a sly smile, "No, definitely." he placed a hand on her cheek and she leaned on that long-awaited touch.

"But I’d like to hear more on the subject ‘I like you’, you know?" she drawled positioning herself so that her chest was pushed against his body. She stretched her neck and laid a soft kiss to his jawline.

Matthew brought both his hands to her hips, "Oh yeah?" he kissed one cheek and then the other, blowing on her nose, before leaning his forehead against hers. "I like you, Lucie. I had for a long time."

She smiled calmly, starting to feel her eyes pinching.

"And I never did anything to make you understand that," he continued, "and I’m sorry I wasted all this time. But I’m not going to let you go now, if that’s what you want." he said in a soothing tone. His eyes still glimmering with that emotion so strong, so fierce, that lit up his whole face.

"Don’t let me go." she said with graceful simplicity.

Matthew stretched out to her and finally their lips touched, melting in that kiss.

They had waited so long, both unaware of each other’s feelings, yet their hands knew exactly where to rest and their lips and tongues how to dance.

Lucie had had the opportunity to kiss some boy, but she had never felt so alive. She had never felt her heart overflowing with joy.

And the boy before her, who was now breathing her as if his life depended on it, who had protected and reassured her when she needed it the most, whom she had considered as a brother for much of her life, but that was the furthest thing from a brother he could represent.

Lucie almost broke off screaming when Matthew’s phone rang again.

"Anna, fuck you, I just did it." he said, answering exasperated, passing a hand through his hair. Lucie burst into laughter when a chorus of joy from the two girls exploded on the other side of the phone. He saw Matthew looking at her with a satisfied smile. "We’re coming, but please don’t call again."

The boy didn’t even give her cousin the time to say  goodbye that he was on her again. Hands stuck in her hair and eyes closed as he kissed her desperately.

They just stood there and basked in that new sensation for a few more minutes and only when Lucie was fully satisfied and her lips were given the right attention they broke off. They burst out laughing, hugging again and holding on to each other.

"Let’s go eat noodles, Math." she said, taking him by the hand and pulling him towards the restaurant. "You deserve it."

But he stood still and looked at her, smiling too broadly. "What?" she asked, smiling faintly. He shook his head and began to walk beside her, "Nothing. It’s just the best night of my life." She nodded and gave him a stealthy kiss on the cheek.

"Well, at least now we can be alone together, right?" she asked.

Matthew chuckled, "You will never be alone again, Lu. I promise." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips, and then he started running, leaving her behind, while he screamed that if she didn’t hurry, they would surely run out of noodles and he would never be able to eat anything.

Lucie burst into laughter, started running after him.

Yeah, that was definitely the best night of her life.

MY HEART

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[aricazorel]

#7 No! Not again!

from this list  (from rpgwarrior4824 angst 2 list)

Mass Effect 3, ending, f!shenko, 672 words

*TW: possible implied character death*

Kaidan had hobbled his way to the CIC deck of the Normandy against Dr. Chakwas’ advice. His leg was splinted but still needed further medical treatment. Every agonizing step to the cockpit was one more reason to believe that it couldn’t happen again. One more reason to believe they’d won, and everything would be fine. That they could finally have the life they wanted.

Alenko had been saved by the Normandy during an emergency extraction on the order of Shepard. She’d forced Vega and the L2 back aboard after a Mako flipped during the run to the beam. Vega received scratches and bruises while Kaidan ended up with a broken leg. But that wasn’t going to stop him from checking on Shepard’s whereabouts.

She’d made it to the beam just after Anderson. Hackett had lost communication with her, but the arms of the Citadel had opened. The Reapers were defeated as a shockwave hurled the Normandy off course. After minor repairs they were in bound to Earth. But no word on Shepard…

Kaidan came to a stop, standing silently behind Joker. As the planets of the Sol System passed by them, he kept his eyes locked on the direction of Earth. The moon appeared above the blue and green marble, but the Citadel and Crucible were in pieces. Had the beam caused that or—

“This is the SSV Normandy SR2. Hey! Is anybody there? Any Alliance or Alliance ally ships, please respond.…What is the status of—”

“Normandy. This is Hackett. It’s good to see you’re in one piece. There is a space designated outside London for—”

Joker interrupted, clearly annoyed he’d been cut off. “Admiral, what about—”

“Recovery efforts are underway and have been for the past 6 hours.” The tone of the Admiral’s voice was flat and no nonsense.

“But—”

“Report to the designated LZ and a team will meet you. In the meantime know that the entire galaxy appreciates all of the Normandy’s efforts and sacrifices. Hackett out.” Joker began cursing under his breath about cheap platitudes and the like.

Kaidan stood still as the comm went dead. That was it? Not even a mention of Shepard or Anderson? No information at all on what had happened in their absences? Nothing?

Ignoring Joker’s weak words of assurances as he plotted a course for the LZ, Kaidan went over to one of the auxiliary stations in the cockpit. Bringing up any channel he could, he began searching for any references to Shepard.

She’d made it to the beam and then to the Citadel itself. The arms had opened, and comms were lost soon after. He knew most of that already but then there was no word from her afterward. Apparently parts of the Citadel and Crucible had fallen to Earth but…

He quickly found an active feed. One of the recovery teams. Using his Specter access he transferred the feed to his personal comm. The chatter over his ear piece was less than encouraging.

“We still have no confirmed contact with any survivors.”

“No life signs.”

“Wreckages is extensive.”

“Human remains are unidentifiable as of now.”

“Will continue working our way to the northwest…Was the approximate last location of comms for Admiral Anderson…”

“No signal from Commander Shepard.”

“We should call this off. No one could survive this.”

“Hackett ordered us to continue until told otherwise.”

“It’s useless.”

“Do it anyway.”

“Why? She died once and came back. Shouldn’t she stay—”

“If she is dead, she died to save your sorry ass. Now you have your orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Even if Shepard is dead, we find her and bring her home this time.”

“No! Not again!” the second human Specter whimpered as he slumped against the station’s chair. They talked like there was no hope at all. She wasn’t immortal. He knew that but she was Shepard. She was Kayla. His Kayla. She had to be alive. She had to be…

Kaidan shed silent tears waiting for an impossible miracle to happen for a second time.