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darkn2wistydia · 10 months ago

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A Hazbin Hotel Side Story! ♠♦Blackjack Princess!♣♥ (PART ONE)

I thought maybe before I fully commit to a bigger project I could showcase what my writing is like and some of my original character, Vesper's, personality. This is quite long, but I enjoyed writing it and hope you'll enjoy reading it just as much. (I'm also not done with this yet, so stay tuned!~)

Word Count: 4,240

!CONTAINS TALK OF GAMBLING, SUBSTANCE ABUSE (ALCOHOL), CURSING, CRUDE HUMOR! {that might be it...?}

Synopsis:

Upon learning that Vesper was once a Blackjack dealer in life, Husk and them form a friendship of sorts and play together when Vesper's time and afterlife is not completely overtaken by VoxTek and the egotistical face of the brand, Vox.

When trying in vain to get Alastor to play one night, the only thing capable of changing his mind is Charlie's naive interest in learning to play this new game, completely unknowing of the spark of chaos, competition, and deal making!? she has ignited among the sinners.

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Husk growls out in anger, throwing his empty bottle against the wall, the sound of glass shattering, and his shouts echoing in the empty lobby.

"FUCKIN' BULLSHIT! You're fucking cheating, I know you are!"

Vesper rolls their eyes as they collect the cards as well as the poker chips Husk bet on his hand. They begin shuffling the deck as they speak, "Chill the fuck out and quit whining. You'll wake up everyone in the Hotel. So, we playin’ again or not?" They smirk, and raise a brow, knowing he won't quit. Not until he hits a winning streak and hits it big or he's out of chips. And, Vesper can always give him a win or two, just to keep him playing. They've already got these cards playing for her, not the other way around.

He growls, then huffs. "... yeah. Lemme get another drink before you deal." He walks away, muttering to himself as he grabs another bottle of whiskey. He speaks up as he opens the bottle, "You want another one of those nasty ass champagne drinks?"

"Mm, yeah. Here, I'll bring you my glass so you don't have more shit to shine later. And quit hating on me. We're supposed to be having a good night." Vesper sets the deck of cards on the table before they stand and take their glass towards the bar, finishing off what was left of the previous drink and taking a seat on one of the stools.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Lights. Just give it here so we can get back to the game." Husk takes the glass and gets to work on the cocktail.

Suddenly, the front door opens, catching both Vesper and Husk's attention. In waltzes Alastor, silently shutting the door behind him with a grocery bag in hand. He then notices the pair at the bar. "Oh. Hello, Vesper. Husk. What are you two still doing awake?"

"We could ask you the same thing. Heard no one's seen you all day, Vaggie was looking for you for a good while before giving up. So, why are you getting back so late, hm?" Vesper questions then turns their head when Husk sets their freshly made cocktail on the bar, picking it up and taking a sip.

Alastor laughs, "Ah. Well, you're certainly more confident when you're intoxicated. Usually, you don't speak so boldly. How humorous. But, since you asked, I spent the day in the Cannibal Colony with my dear friend, Rosie. I also stopped by a butcher to get a nice piece of venison for breakfast in a few hours. Now, since I answered you, do tell me what you two are up to this evening. I'm quite curious."

"Just drinking and gambling. They're a fucking asshole dealer, though. Pretty sure they're counting cards, just can't prove it...." Husk tips the whisky bottle back, taking a large drink before resting his elbow on the bar and propping his face up with his fist, glancing at Alastor's grocery bag, blood pooling at the bottom of the white plastic despite the meat being wrapped. He sets the bottle to the bar and makes a face, "That looks fuckin' gross, man. Put that somewhere else."

Vesper shrugs, not that bothered and simply ignoring Husk's last comment, "Eh, you're just a low roller and a sore loser, Feathers. Besides, we're not gambling anything of value, so what's it matter. Most I'm getting out of this is a good laugh when you lose. Which is every time." They snicker, earning a scowl from Husk.

Alastor uses his magic to send his breakfast elsewhere before drawing closer. "Oh, such a shame you're still on that losing streak, Husk, but really, you've only got yourself to blame for that. Only natural your poor luck should continue."

Husk scoffs before sitting up, taking another swig of his whiskey and slamming the bottle down on the bar top, hard, but not enough to break it. "You know what, man? Fuck you, first of all. And, second, why don't you play with us tonight and see what I mean. They'll probably outplay you, too. Boy, wouldn't that be a sight to see. The Radio Demon, losing."

"Ha! I would join you both, really, even if it was just to watch as you continue to lose, old pal. But, as Vesper stated, neither of you is gambling anything of value. I see no reason to play."

"I ain't got nothing to bet, you prick! You got my soul and my power, what else do ya want?!"

"Guys, you're being really loud.... Could you... maybe just... quiet down? Just a bit?" A tired Charlie has appeared at the stairs, yawning softly.

Vesper hits Husk in the chest, "See? I TOLD you that your yelling would wake someone up." They huff, turning their attention to Charlie, "Sorry, Charlie. We'll quiet down, head on back to bed."

Charlie sees the chips and cards on the table and gasps, "Ooh, are you guys playing a game! What game is it? Can I play?"

Alastor blinks, bewildered and obviously amused at the thought of the Princess of Hell, someone quite literally Hellbent on rehabilitating sinners, engaging in something as frivolous and sometimes even sinful as gambling? Now, that would be quite an entertaining sight to see.

"If she plays, I'll join you."

Husk scoffs, throwing his hands up in annoyance, "What!? No! Fuckin’ leave the Princess out of this! She's going to bed!"

Charlie rushes down the stairs and to the bar, hands clasped pleadingly, "No, I think I got a second wind. Please, please, please...!"

Vesper chuckles. "Alright, alright. C'mon, let me show you how to play. Oh, and Husk, go ahead and pour me a glass of that. It's gonna be a longer night than I thought."

Husk groans, grabbing another bottle of whisky and two glasses, looking to Alastor, "On the rocks or straight, you pinstriped fuck?"

"Straight. And, I'll take it at the table." He smirks walking away to join Charlie and Vesper at the poker table, hearing Husk growl out an, "Of course you fuckin' will...." before he pours both drinks, carrying them in one hand and the now two open bottles of whiskey in the other.

Vesper lays out a faux play to show Charlie the rules of Blackjack. They've also placed a poker chip in the betting area and a second aside for a later example. "Oh, and this is just an etiquette of the game. Don't touch the cards. That's all on the dealer."

"Huh. Ok. No touching the cards. So, what's the point of the game? How do we play?"

"So, your goal is to beat the dealer, me, without going over 21. Everyone starts with two cards, and everyone has to put in a chip worth at least the table minimum and usually a maximum. That last bit isn't as important unless you're playing competitively. The difference between your hand and the dealer's is that yours will be faceup while one of the dealer's cards is faced down, that's the hole card. Getting it so far?"

Charlie nods. "Yep, play a minimum point value, beat the dealer's score without going over 21, my cards are face up. What else?"

{AN: After this cut is a lengthy description on how to play Blackjack as told by Vesper. There is some ditzy Charlie content and a fluffy moment or two between Vesper and Alastor, but be aware that you DO NOT have to read this part to enjoy and understand the story. I just didn't have the heart to cut it, so if you read this bit, thanks! But, don't feel obligated! Either way you read this story, it'll make sense. Happy reading!}

"Ok, I laid out a play for you so you can see how this works. The dealer's score is a 7, and the player has a king and a 4, giving them a score of 14. Kings, queens, and jacks, also called face cards, are all worth 10 points. The number cards are pretty self-explanatory. Aces are the magic card and can be valued at either one or eleven points. That's always the player's choice. Phew. Hold on a second." Vesper takes a breath then takes a long sip of their drink that they'd been holding. Doing so, they see Alastor has come to join them and is exceptionally close, listening intently to Vesper's explanation. He glances from the cards to them, offering his hand to take their drink after they've sipped on it a moment.

"May I? I don't believe I've had the taste of a bubbly champagne cocktail since I was a much younger man. Perhaps I could hold it for you as well, since it seems you're in need of your hands to properly explain the rules to Charlotte."

Vesper smiles softly, handing Alastor the cocktail. "What a gentlemanly offer. Knock yourself out, Al." Their fingertips graze his as the glass changes hands. Alsator laughs at the comment, "Always! And, thank you, Darling. Mm. Is that... um... gender neutral...?" He raises a brow, unsure, but still smiling as he sips the cocktail, humming as the liquid graces his taste buds.

They shrug, honestly not bothered by what he'd call them as they're not ballsy enough to correct him. "Mm, I'll take it. Now, let me get back to this and get in here real quick." Vesper turns back towards the table and grabs the deck, quickly dealing through for the cards for the ones she needs, setting them off to the side with the extra chip. Husk, perking up at the sound of the cards, looks and begins watching the cards close and intently as he sips his bottle of booze.

"Alright. You, as the player, have two choices. You can stay, which is where you wave your hand over the cards to keep the score you have. Or, you can hit, where you tap the table and the dealer will deal you as many cards as you want to get a better score, but there's always the risk you could go over 21, which is called a bust and causes you to lose. So, you have to be wary how many times you hit. Ok, this is where it starts getting tricky. You still keeping up?"

Charlie nods once more, looking confident. "Yes. Wave to stay, tap to hit. Keep going, this sounds like such a fun game." She smiles brightly, leaning in a bit closer to continue observing from a better angle.

Husk chokes on his booze at the statement, suppressing a laugh.

"Ignore him. So, for now we'll say that you stayed with this hand, kept the fourteen. Now the dealer shows their second card. In this case it's an ace which is perfect. Dealer has a higher score so they win. Now, the dealer plays by a bit of a different set of rules. The dea-"

Charlie gasps abruptly, causing everyone to jump. "What!? That's dirty...! Why?"

"Just the game, Charlie. It evens out, trust me. Anyway, the dealer's score will always be 17 or over without exceeding 21. If the two cards they delt themselves at the start of the hand don't equal 17 when they reveal the hole card, then they continue to draw cards until they add up to or exceed 17. Now, if they were to exceed 21, the dealer busts, loses, and the whole table gets a payout."

"Everyone wins!? Whoa, what a turn around. Ok, ok. Anything else?"

Vesper chuckles softly, shaking her head a bit at Charlie's genuinely naive fascination, "Let me show you another few plays, just so I can give you some basic tips and make sure you're really getting it."

Charlie nods then looks back to the cards.

"Ok, the best way to know when to stay or hit is to pay attention to what you have and compare it to the visible dealer card. We know in this case our dealer's point value is 17, but only the 7 was visible, so we'll go off that for now. Player has 14, this time we're gonna hit and say that we get a 7. That gives us a perfect score of 21, which means the player wins. Just use your judgment, you'll get better the more you play.”

"Now, players actually have a third play option, but it really only works if the player is dealt high doubles”

Vesper grabs the cards they’d previously pulled and set aside as well as the extra chip. They then pull a pair of tens out of the select cards without looking.

“Like these two tens here. That gives you a score of 20, which almost guarantees the win, but, if you're feeling lucky or got the balls, your third option is to split the hand. That's where you double the points you put in play at the beginning of the hand and double tap the table with two fingers to signify the split. The Dealer does that for you, of course." Vesper puts the extra chip in the betting area and properly splits the hand so Charlie can see an example.

"Wait, what? That's silly, why would you wanna split the hand if you've already won? That makes no sense."

Alastor laughs heartily, "Good question, Princess! The right one, too. But, never assume triumph, especially in a game that at its core is based on chance. It makes one look cocky. Or at the very least don't verbalize it." He continues to chuckle, still holding Vesper's champagne glass.

Vesper nods in agreement, "He's actually got a point. Even if you have an almost perfect score, the dealer could end up with the perfect score. Happens more often than you think, especially for newer players. But, like I said, the thing with splitting your hand is you can win extra points if it works out in your favor. Since you bet double, you can win double from the dealer. They always match your bet. And, if you noticed, the dealer can't do anything but hit if their card value is below 17. If it's at 17, they're not allowed."

Charlie gasps, “Ooooh, ok! So that puts them at a disadvantage! Despite this being a game of chance it's also a game of strategy.”

"Well, look who's getting smart and really thinking it through. Now you're really catching on. Moving right along, upon splitting the hand, the player actually then has two hands in play, allowing them to hit on both to get a score below 21. We'll say in this case we got lucky and pulled another ten and a queen, so both hands are worth 20 points and the dealer loses with 17. Now, worst case scenario, let's say your dealer actually has a six on top instead of that 7."

Vesper switches out the 7 for the 6 they'd kept in their hand for later, holding one more card in their off hand, discarding the now useless 7 with the rest of the deck.

“What do you think you should do?"

Charlie takes a deep breath. "Ok. So, I already split my hand, they both value to 20, I can't hit or I'll go over, so I stay with what I've got. As for the dealer, they're score is 16 now, so... they have to hit. And, they only need to draw a 4 or 5 to win."

"Bingo. But, more often than not, they don't get that 5. 16 is a dangerous number in Blackjack." Vesper throws out the final card they'd been holding onto, the 5, watching as it lands with the rest of the dealer's cards, smirking a bit. "But, 16 is my lucky number, and I tend to get the cards I need. You ain't ever met a dealer like me. I'm a jack of all trades when it comes to card games, but this is where my skills really shine."

{AN: If you made it this far and read what could have been cut, thanks. And, congratulations! Now you have all the knowledge I have of Blackjack! I just had fun writing and couldn't stop. Thanks for humoring me Now, diving back in...!~}

Vesper takes a deep breath after the lengthy explanation, Alastor offering them their drink, which they take from him and take a large drink from before handing it back. He retrieves it from them, taking another sip from the bubbly cocktail as well.

"Ok, I think that covers everything. If I missed something I'll explain it when we get there. So, you think you're ready to play some Blackjack, Princess?"

"Yes! Deal me in, Vesper!" Charlie pulls up a chair and sits directly in front of where Vesper will be dealing from, Husk moves from his perch on the side of the table to sit to Charlie's left and Alastor, still standing, is to her right.

Vesper laughs, grabbing the example cards and putting them with the rest of the deck, beginning to shuffle them as they round the table to where the bank of chips is positioned. "Alright, let me get you and Alastor some chips. Must be a lucky day after all, Husk, you're getting fresh chips. Everyone's starting with 15 chips, excluding the dealer, I gotta have a bank for when one of you fools decides to try and hit it big. That's inevitable. Each of your chips is worth 100 points. To play you have to have at minimum one chip in your betting area. I don't care about a max. If you run out of chips, you lose. At 45 points, I call the game. Hit that point total first, or hope that the other players strike out cause that's the only way to win."

Alastor rounds the table offering their champagne glass back to them, as he'd had enough and left the last drink for Vesper. Placing the deck of cards on the table, they take the glass, finishing what was left as they begin to pull the chips needed to play with their free hand.

Alastor reaches out, taking the glass from their hand carefully, once more, allowing their hands to touch. "I'll get that to the bar." Which simply meant he'd use his black magic to send itself over there. "Oh, and thank you, again. It was almost nostalgic sipping that. Reminded me of a party I attended once, though I believe the drink I had then wasn't nearly as sweet as yours. However, on another note, it really is such a pity that we've nothing of value to bet with so we can make the game more… interesting."

Vesper bites their lip, cocking their head to the side in thought. About both Alastor's emphasis on the word 'sweet' as well as his urge for something of value worth playing for. It was for his entertainment of course and unfortunately Vesper knew exactly what he was wanting them to say.

It was the only thing that came to mind.

"Alright, how about this? I'll put my soul on the table. Winner gets that." They raise a brow at Alastor, who is obviously visibly interested.

Husk jumps up, "Don't be fuckin' stupid, Vesper! He'll cheat you out of it and you know it! You may be a pain in the ass but you're sure as Hell not dumb enough to make a bet like that."

Charlie looks at Vesper, "We're betting!? This is a betting game!? I thought it was just a point system! Um, I..... Don't... ugh don't bet your soul, Vesper! I don't want... You shouldn't... um...." Charlie can't even find the words to express everything she's feeling.

Vesper stops shuffling long enough to finally deal out the chips they had pulled for each player before Alastor had distracted them. Instead of setting his chips across the table, Vesper offers Alastor his chips since he is standing just beside them. He opens his palm and Vesper places them in his hand, his gaze never wavering from them.

Vesper looks to a visibly concerned Charlie as she begins shuffling the cards once more, "Ok, ok, how about this. Just as an insurance policy, if you win, Charlie, I'll help you with lesson plans for a week on top of everything that I do for the flat-faced prince of VoxTek. Mm, and, I'll let you officially check me in and... participate in this whole, ugh... rehabilitation thing. But, if one of these bastards win, which I have faith is not gonna happen, they get my soul. It is mine to bet, after all. I'm still a sinner, gotta keep my afterlife interesting somehow."

Charlie's jaw kinda drops, eyes wide as she takes in this information. "You... I.... Really...? You'll actually try? Like genuinely, really try?" Vesper nods, still shuffling the deck of cards, now doing a few fancy shuffling tricks, catching Husk's attention who stares in admiration of the skill.

Charlie takes a breath and stands, looking at Vesper. "Alright, despite not agreeing with the whole... soul dealing thing... I'll make an exception this time because I do believe in you.... And if you believe you'll win then, that's gonna have to be enough for me. So, um... I'll... I'll take your bet. You're on, Vesper." Charlie huffs then sits back in her chair, waiting for the cards to be dealt.

Alastor smiles widely, "Marvelous! Oh, what a game this shall be! Shall we shake hands, dear?" Offering his free hand to Vesper, a soft yet sickly green glow emanating from it.

Husk throws in his two-cents once more, "I ain't shaking his fuckin' hand. And, this is still a dumbass idea. Don't be a dumbass."

"What did I just tell her? My soul, I'll bet it if I want. Besides, you just gotta shake my hand, you grouchy old fuck. And, if you win you got my soul, maybe it'll be just the pick-me-up you needed. I hear I can be pretty useful, a jack of all trades. Now, get that stick out of your ass and gimme your fuckin’ hand. Not the one you used to remove the stick, though." Vesper snickers at their own joke and Alastor laughs as well, which only makes them laugh with him.

Husk growls and mutters under his breath as he offers his hand from across the table.

Vesper takes his hand then Alastor’s, giving them a firm shake. "It's a deal. Either of you win, it's my soul. Should I win, I get to keep it. All I really want in return is bragging rights. Especially if I beat you, Alastor."

Alastor laughs, hand still tightly grasping Vesper's, "A fine deal, I suppose. Though, should you lose, what you're giving up is worth much more than 'bragging rights,' Dearest. Now, don't get me wrong, taking advantage of such a poorly made deal would usually be something I enjoy and participate in solely for the shattered look on their face when they lose. However, you're smarter than that. And, trying to play me before the cards are even on the table. Clever, but not clever enough, I'm afraid. So, to make the earnings and playing ground fair, I have a suggestion. Should you win, I'll allow you to have bragging rights and to keep your soul, since that is what you say you wish, but I also offer mine and Husk's services for one future favor. Anything you can think of. However, should I or Husk win, your soul will belong to whomever wins the game, be it by point value or by not striking out. I also believe your services could be of good use for something, so you'll be indebted to one future favor as well, anything the winner wishes. Now, that is a much fairer deal, don't you agree?"

Husk, hand still locked in the handshake with Vesper, is flabbergasted at hearing that he could very well end up doing another shit favor just because Alastor offered him up for it. Again. And, watching Vesper make the same mistake he did, he almost felt guilty, even if he tried to warn them. Really he should have tried a bit harder, been more direct. This deal was just as carefully worded as his, which makes it dangerous. But, at least Alastor was offering his own services, too. And, thankfully, for some reason, he didn't require complete control of them. Not yet, anyhow. Because Husk knew better than anyone that once he had your soul, Alastor already owned you. Even if you didn't know it yet.

Vesper smirks, "Alright, smart ass, you're on. Now, go sit, I'm ready to deal."

Husk and Alastor shake their hand once more, causing Alastor's power to flare and the room flash the sickly green before dissipating. Husk pulls away as soon as the deal is sealed, crossing his arms. Alastor, however, glances down at Vesper's hand just before leaning down to place a gentle kiss on their knuckles. Then, as if it never happened, he turns on his heels and goes to the opposite side of the table to join Charlie and Husk, taking his seat to the right of Charlie. "I truly wish you the best of luck, Vesper."

A soft blush dusts Vesper's cheeks as they retrieve the deck of cards and begin to shuffle, setting the deck in front of Husk simply out of habit. He chuckles and cuts the deck and Vesper begins to shuffle once more then deals out their hands.

After dealing, Vesper reaches under the edge of the table, pulling out the box that houses the deck of cards they'll be using. They reach in and pull out one of the two Jokers before they shove it into the rest of the deck, only for it to pop out the other side of the deck. However, in doing so the card had changed from the classic black, red and white coloring to one emphasized by neon colors with a characterized image of Vesper replacing that of the Joker. They rest the card at the front of their bank, smirking as they lean comfortably on the table. Vesper's soul was officially on the table....

"Alright, sinners and Princess. Let's play."

I sincerely hope you guys enjoyed this. I will be writing a part two, it is actually already in the works and will most likely update this with a word count, warning tags, (if it should need it), and fix any mistakes I may have missed. I'll also link Part Two once it's up. I thank you for reading.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor the radio demon #original character #hazbin hotel oc #original work #original writing #charlotte morningstar #this is about to get UNHINGED #yall literally are not prepared for the chaos I have planned #im not even exaggerating #even im not prepared for whats to come and i know the ending

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evelyne-am · 2 years ago

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22nd March 2023

Day 9

I’m still slacking and to my horror others are struggling too here and there. Most of the cast is finding it tough to remember the new cues and lines and line distributions. We spent two hours on the first five lines today barely getting through the act one. Director is understandably furious. We got a proper yelling because we are just stumbling at every line. He reminds us we haven't even done the first two pages and we have 58 left. The song we open with is the one I made and I havent locked it, so we keep making mistakes on that first opening scene for over an hour.

I feel very angry with myself, even though my lackings are in a different place than others, M is correct when she says that we still haven’t jumped in fully. I wonder if I should stop writing the blog, it makes me feel like I’m still an outsider because I’m writing about it. But I also don’t want to stop because our director is really something and I would like to remember how I have been learning, how he is directing, and also these heightened emotions that I feel that may inspire me later. I already feel myself changing, my tolerance for inefficiency in my own teams is lowering. Even though I’m doing the same thing. Get to 100 percent AM!

We are on the 3rd version now. Originally we had thought it would be each person reads one part and is M1/M2/M3 turn by turn. 2nd version we played her at the same time, line by line like we are one person. Today's version seems final. There is only one M1/M2- though everyone else has dialogue its in 3rd person now. Sir seems to have picked M1/M2 as Sharm and Srab. They've played it the second day in a row. Sharm is doing super it I have to say. She’s the most experienced of the lot except M. shes able to stay in the zone and concentrate. We are working on act one which is basically pre 71, happisg times. I realise that we haven’t cried in a few sags. The first 6 to 7 days I was crying in rehearsal every day as we were learning the script. But as we are only figuring out the intros and beginning sequences none of it has been of the war of the crimes south so it’s very sort of mild. Md says that now we are forgetting the person who is actually telling the story. She is so right after rehearsal we are all feeling a bit down because I didn’t go well, I don’t blame the director for saying that he is going to see this for one more week before deciding if we will go through or not. Even though I know there’s a lot of preparation, the actual booking of the theatre, budgets, everything else is being done, so if you want to cancel you still can. After the rehearsal M calls me aside and says we need to fix that opening sequence, I’m very shame at least say yes let’s do it. She says come to our meeting tonight. I had plans to join the gym today because at this point I realise that we are no longer doing our morning exercise as we come in and go straight into the rehearsing of the play and I gained weight in the first nine days of rehearsals I’ve gained about 2 lb in any case postcode with my hunger is through the roof, stress from recent projects and personal stuff my hunger is through the roof, and though I still try to walk a little bit it’s not every day anymore like it used to be still only a few days week. also I missed the gym I haven’t been for over six months I used to love it so much. My plans though are now canceled. I go home and take a 20 minute nap and then I rush off to the meeting. Traffic is absolutely insane and I abandon my car and get a bike and thanks to a really nice bike I reach exactly at 7:29 when I am supposed to start the music work at 7:30. The meeting is in someone’s house, one of the core members of the group. I the first time see everyone in a more relaxed situation. The entire living room is split up the keyboard is kept open for me on one side on the other side people are making dinner on the other side the entire floor plan is being made with things draw been drawn to scale. The director seems to be in a better mood and everyone is figuring out logistics and planning things et cetera et cetera. everyone looks really nice they’re all dressed up in their normal clothes.

Did I ever mention that we have a sort of outfit that we wear ?. It’s T-shirts and pants that are not too loose or too tight; this is why you see me in a different T-shirt every day that is the actual uniform for rehearsal as it’s the one that is most flexible for all of our physical work. I’m the only one who still wearing my T-shirt and sweat pants. M is dressed in a sari and she keeps covering her head and I asked her why and she says that ever since the start of the play she dresses as a birangona at home. I have been considering doing a few things to keep the essence of the play with me when I go home, and I wonder if I can do the same or not I don’t know yet. I’ve considered giving up some of my favourite things to eat to do, just to channel a bit of the story is a bit more but A part of me realises that I might be best used to do the musical aspects then being a novice actor on stage, and the fact that I am in a Inner Circle meeting doing the structures for the music means that that’s also what everyone else is thinking. this is the first time that it is acknowledged at all in these circumstances that I have a sort of following all my own identity as a media person. Reference being we are trying to calculate how many shares to do how many tickets need to be sold how many tickets can be sold at certain prices and The host jokes that oh don’t worry Armeen will bring her own crowd. I have no idea if that’s true I know my friends would come. Overall it’s very light and jolly situation however once we wrap up our introductory song so I remind Sir that there is a second one to do and I actually feel like giving him ideas. I try to do a rap like spoken word piece and Azhar sort of points out doesn’t go. So I sort of give up for the day, I don’t know why I give up so easily these days. I don’t have a push sometimes when I don’t get my first brilliant idea naturally I give up very easily. The first song that I made for the intro it was literally the first thing that came out of my mind and it was based on a bunch of chords that I know that are good. The second song is different it’s not a soft song so not in my genre and obviously I am struggling with it and I just give up. but I admit it was nice to see The director a bit more relaxed; they all joke about each other and their romantic partners even Sir teases M, I’m a bit embarrassed so I just smile and sit in the corner. Our host is really sweet though she is evidently someone who has seen a lot of my work already and both the host chat with me a little bit. It feels weird to have references to my non-theatre life in theatre mode.

I’m struggling to fix my sleep schedule, when I go home it’s already pretty late, but I have my own things to do thoughts to have that I cannot ignore, I wish we were there were more days in the air, or more hours on the day that I could use to spend a little bit of time just thinking and also bloody apartment I don’t even have an AC right now and it’s getting really hot and I haven’t had the time to actually buy an AC and get it installed. Also I am dying to just organise my bookshelf it’s the first thing you see you when you enter my flat but despite the fact that I’ve had all the books nicely done I still do not have even 10 minutes to put the books in the order that I want to. I’m up till 2 am again with my own stuff. I haven’t memorised M2 either, I won’t say that I’m not enjoying being part of the music but I do realise it might lower my chances of getting any proper lines.

Oh God after disastrous rehearsal day I am a bit more relieved to see that the play is still being planned, they have decided to lower the number of shows from 25 to 19. M says it’s only physically durable to do the maximum 19 shows in a row. I have performed many many days in a row but never 19 shows I’m actually deeply looking forward to those 19 inches. Your girl hasn’t been on stage in awhile and it’s coming through.

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slaughtermaticgames · 2 years ago

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A house that is so scary

One of the origins of this EPIC JOURNEY of game development I've been on was one day in Discord with a friend. A popular low poly horror game was in a video and I said something like, "I bet I could flip some assets and make a game just like this in a few months and even make it scarier". Theres a lot wrong with that statement. There are other reasons I started this but they're not really relevant to this story.

So after watching a 5 hour tutorial about Unreal I was ready to start work on this game. First, I thought, I should just make a layout for a house. I didn't know what to name the project so I just wrote "Scary House". Thus the Scary House franchise was born.

You can probably guess what happened to that very first project. First, Scary House, then Scary House 2, 3, 4, 5 a reboot and so on. Eventually I started branching out and I discovered GBStudio and I thought maybe this is where I should start.

Scary Pocket. I spent about a day making the bottom floor of a house and scripting an enemy to pursue and lunge at my player character. The player character had a short dash they could use to evade and it was actually pretty fun. But being on GBStudio and having like 100 events in one scene it was a little framy at times and had collision issues. Then I discovered GameMaker.

Scary Pocket Remastered. I spent a day again making the bottom floor of that house and programming my AI. Its amazing it took me like 4 hours in GBStudio with events and it took me like 4 hours in GameMaker with code. The difference was 100 events vs 15 lines of code. This got me really interested in coding and I would split my time between learning coding concepts and game dev. Since then I haven't really messed with the Scary House property. I had (still have) an idea of what I want to do with it in 2D but pretty much shelved it. Everything game dev adjacent I'd done for a while was just basic learning. Learning ins and outs of Godot, trying out Unity (C# is now my target programming language outside of game dev).

After doing a few tutorials and learning code basics for a few weeks I felt pretty confident and decided to join 'My First Game Jam' (thats the name of the jam) and try to produce something. The theme is 'Growth' and I had a few ideas for this. One was in RPG maker using the MV3D plugin. It would start with a kid eating his vegetables and growing to titanic size and rampaging through his town mostly on rails and scripted events where people try to stop him and the fight options were just "Slap" "Squash" etc and you would just one-shot everything and eventually the police show up and shoot him (I'm bad at endings). One was reviving 2D Scary House and replacing the lunge with an expanding thing and it looked as stupid as it sounds.

Here is a link to the Game Jam if you're interested. Its aimed at beginner developers. You're even allowed to do a tutorial for it. Its meant to give people with an interest in game dev that push they might need to get started.

That pretty much brings us to today. I decided to mess with creating maps in 3D with TrenchBroom and importing them into Godot 4. I hadn't actually built anything in 3D since those early Unreal days.

So I guess I should just present the project I'm working on now for the jam. Its going to be a low poly/3D Pixel horror game. I believe this will take on the title 'Scary House'. The house has 3 floors, the gameplay is find a key open a door to the stairs, very simple; it is my first 3D game after all. I'm aiming for about 5 minutes of gameplay and 2 endings. I want to tell a small little short story primarily with symbolism.

I'm excited to see how this project turns out. I have 2 weeks to finish it but every time I think about an entire job description worth of work I need to do it makes my head spin. Hopefully I will get there.

This is the second floor. Everything is a little big. Its meant to make you feel small.

This is the starting floor ft my monster man stuck on a table.

I'm on the fence about this purple tint. I kinda like it but I just started experimenting with that earlier today.

I've learned how to do a lot of things by first doing them wrong. May write something about that someday.

A SCARY ROOM TOO?

Anyways. Thats a little backstory on me and what I'm currently working on. I may post some more stuff about this project. Topics like, learning things by doing them wrong (sort of) and why understanding documentation is like really important. Mostly just stories of me being not-so-smart.

#game dev #low poly #solo dev #low poly horror #my first game jam #scary house

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elamarth-calmagol · 1 year ago

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Tumblr just ate the rant I spent a half hour on, so I'm going to try to reconstruct it.

The old Magic School Bus had more layers than the new one. You didn't just learn about science! You also learned a character lesson, like being persistent or not believing things without evidence. Ms. Frizzle was always quoting funnily-named relatives and singing parodies of well-known songs, which actually makes it funnier to watch as an adult because you get all the jokes now. The kids were all color-coded and had catchphrases (though it took Tim two seasons to get one). A few episodes parodied other genres, like 50s monster movies in Spins a Web and Star Trek in Out of this World.

To be fair, I don't think I watched the third season of Rides Again, and it's been a few years, but I felt like there was way less in the way of catchphrases, and I don't remember any parody songs or punny names from the Frizzles. As I remember, The Good, the Bad, and the Gnocci (a literal spaghetti western about simple machines and working together) was the only episode that felt like old Magic School Bus. The rest were as flat and shallow as the animation. And don't get me started on how the old Frizzle always knew exactly what was going on and the new one is going to get a kid killed one of these days.

But the worst thing is what Rides Again did to Phoebe and Wanda. So they decided to add a new character, Jyoti, who is a gadget-obsessed Indian girl, which is great (though personally I'd have wanted her to be Muslim because of Islamophobia in the US). To fit her in, they decided to take out an old character, which is... lazy. There can be nine kids. They decided to take out Phoebe, which is not bad on the surface, but they obviously only picked her because they decided that they had enough white characters and one was disposable. Which I don't say out of some "uwu white people are so oppressed" BS, but because they turned Wanda into Phoebe 2.0, which is completely unforgivable.

They took the class tomboy, thrill seeking, often mean, "weaselly wimps" character and turned her into the feminine, shy, "save the baby animals" character. Look at this: the original Wanda had hair that curved under her head -- really obvious in this image where she's leaning to the side and the tips of her hair are still curved the other way.

But new Wanda has the outward hair flip and the headband from Phoebe (and a really boring color scheme).

Look, there's nothing wrong with Phoebe. She was probably the character I most identified with as a kid. But she is literally the opposite of Wanda. I would have been less offended if they'd made Keisha into Phoebe than Wanda! Why can't girls have a tomboy to project onto? They basically decided they didn't want Wanda anymore, but they still wanted their (nominally) East Asian character, so they took Wanda's name and race (in as much as Rides Again has races) and absolutely nothing else. And then there's the eyelashes... apparently you can't tell if someone is a girl without eyelashes.

It was a great idea to remake Magic School bus with updated science. But it was executed terribly. To me, old Magic School Bus is one of the best kids' TV shows ever, but the new one is just another show, and it kinda sucks.

They De-Tumblrized Ms. Frizzle

#magic school bus #analysis

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hecckyeah · 8 months ago

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🐇🏜️🧩🔪 for writer truth & dare :D

Thanks bee! <3

🐇 ⇢ do you prefer writing original characters, reader inserts, or a mix of both?

Original characters ALLL THE WAY. You couldn't catch me writing a reader insert even if my life depended on it.

I'm sure all y'all who write them are very talented, but in my personal taste, I see them as a plague to my dashboard, and just posts that clog up the character or ship tag.

Also Y/N fics really, really give me the ick, and I wouldn't even ever read one myself, so . . . Yeah. OCs 4 lyfe

🏜️ ⇢ what's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Probably any sort of keyboard smash incoherent shrieking (RELATABLE AS HELL), or when someone pulls a quote or two they enjoyed and adds it to the comment, explaining why they liked it. Never fails to make me blush and giggle and kick my feet <33333

Also the comments that are like "back for a re-read <3" make me go INSANEEEE I could die. You liked my humble little fic enough to come BACK?? I love you forever and ever-

🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately?

Like I said up there ^^ anything with Y/N or other reader inserts. YEET I'm gone. Also if it's all just in one long paragraph with no breaks or indents, especially with dialogue.

Also if I just get the vibe that everyone is OOC and/or sounds wooden, or the fic has awful grammar (not just a few spelling mistakes, but rather switches tenses/can't form a sentence/etc). I have a thing about dialogue being correctly formatted, natural, and realistic-- can you tell? Maybe that's also why I'm SO hesitant to write it. Hmm...

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Oh gosh. There have been so many, I can't even remember one specifically. I've researched stages of pregnancy, apartments and places to live in Paris, square dancing calls and patterns, army medic procedures, amputations and recovery time, length of time someone can go without food, acute effects of trauma on the brain, designer boot brands, Black Ops, and how to cook a Thanksgiving turkey.

I haven't had to research anything that would be like . . . concerningly weird, but I'm sure that day will come. I'd say mostly I tend to research VERY specific things. Like even if I don't mention the name in my writing, I will browse Google Maps for the best location or street for a particular scene.

Oh yeah, one time I spent literal hours browsing through probably dozens of websites to find the perfect wedding venue in Los Angeles . . . which I then spent probably two paragraphs on.

Haha it's the little things :-)

---

Writer Truth or Dare!

#ask game #writing

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twilight-resonance · 9 months ago

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Seeds of Spring

Got some time tonight, and I figured it would be worth doing some writing. Not for anything particular, mind you - just for its own sake.

I've been doing better. The promises of the last post - and that final piece of myself pulled back into place, and that haunt solved - have continued to yield dividends. For the first time in almost ten years, I can write again - and have, just for fun and just for kicks. As planning and projects go, I feel stronger; I've been catching up on things and working on bigger projects than I have in a long time. Tonight, even, I finished writing up profiles of all the known regions in the game world - something that would have been largely unthinkable the last near-decade. It feels marvelous. It's nice to feel like myself again, at least in this way (but with it, many others, too).

But nevertheless, that's not what I'm here to write about. Not that I'm here to write about anything in particular, mind you - I'm just here to write whatever comes to mind. For instance: we're going camping over the next few days. Out in the woods, of course, several hours away; and it'll likely be very rainy, and I'm hoping our tent doesn't soak through like it did last time we did rainy camping; but camping at all, which I've been sorely missing. I had the week off and Hearthsnail was able to take a few days off; and we're going to meet my uncle up there too, and that'll be nice. Frankly, even if it ends in a huge wet mess, I'll just be happy to have gone and tried it. I feel like I haven't had enough of those experiences in my life for a long while - Hearthsnail is generally very risk-averse, and it means we don't try things as often as I'm generally motivated to. But even bad camping trips make for good stories and lessons learned and wellsprings of inspiration, and by the gods, I need more of that in my life.

So that's where we're at with that. Figure we'll do the meal prep and packing tomorrow. It should be nice, one way or another.

As for other things... I've been enjoying the rain, as I often do. We had a power outage from the last storm a couple weeks ago - that was nice. I honestly enjoy the sort of quieter, slower pace of the day that comes with a power outage. We spent some time playing board games, and reading, and spending time together in ways that tend not to happen when there are computers around to be distracting; and we rediscovered candles on rainy days, and burned through 'em all (we only had a few left) and ought to get more. The downsides are of course (1) cooking and hot meals, and (2) worry about a fridgefull of food spoiling, but we ended up doing takeout for a few meals and the fridge appeared to come out of things mostly fine. So, all in all, not bad.

Winding myself down before bed right now. Listening to and half-watching more massage videos, as I've been wont to do recently... On the one hand it's vaguely embarrassing, and on the other don't knock it if it works. They consistently calm me down and make me sleepy, which is a godsend with my brain working as-normal again (which is to say, in overdrive, permanently) (did I tell you the part where I originally went to therapy for sleep problems? because I couldn't turn my brain off enough to go to sleep?). It's also done a lot to help with nervous system regulation during the day, which is nice in and of itself.

Aie aie aie. Thoughts on that for another time. Mostly about a friend, and all the complexities therein and in between. Nonetheless, there are thoughts.

Hmm. What else to write about? I suppose it doesn't matter - I ought to be going to bed soon anyway. Slept like absolute crap last night, hoping I don't do so again. I ought to pick some individual topics to write about soon - for the practice, if nothing else.

#blog #journal #rain #camping #power outage #weather #sleep #writing #working #projects #sanity

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sauntering-down · 1 year ago

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y'all ready for a weirdass dream

so i was at my old elementary school (which was functioning like a high school), and there was some kind of kindergarten entrance exam going on... but i don't think it was actually for my school. this was an exclusive private school which was inexplicably holding exams in my public elementary school. this exam, for some reason, involved a softball game, and two of the prospective students were Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, age four. they were in their typical roles of 'one popular girly-girl and one sporty tomboy'. idk, guys. but i was either helping out with the game, watching the game, or actually playing the game; it frequently varied. couldn't tell you how it ended. when it did end, though, i left the gym and proceeded into the usual School Dream™ - i couldn't find my locker or remember my combination. i knew i'd written both those things down in my agenda, but despite Erin momentarily appearing to help me search, i couldn't find the page... eventually, however, i realized that info was on my schedule, which was also folded into my agenda.

despite this struggle, i never actually went to my locker. i'd spent most of my school day at the softball exam and i was starving - i had one more class left and it was one i'd already missed once recently, but i was so damn hungry... so i skipped it and went down another hall to Cafeteria 2. it was not the ACTUAL cafeteria, but one in the hallway and also next door to the real thing. also, here's a helpful annotated screenshot of my elementary school circa 2001:

so i was trying to get my food, which turned out to be a massive ordeal even though Cafeteria 2 had a super limited menu. the woman working there was impatiently rattling off my options in an extremely thick accent and every time i was like 'um, can you slow down a little?!' she got angry and just went faster. i did eventually hear her say 'egg salad' though and i was like fine, egg salad sandwich, that works. she started putting my sandwich together, going down this long line of ingredients that reminded me of a Subway, and then... she abruptly vanished into thin air right in front of my eyes. i was like ????? and went over to the other woman working there, told her the person making my sandwich had literally disappeared and i wouldn't mind so much, except i'd already paid. so this other woman went and finished my lunch, which was... not an egg salad sandwich. one compartment of the tray had a bunch of tiny sausages and a beaded skewer for eating them?? idk. i was so hungry i didn't care; i sat down with my tray and started eating. there were a few other people in Cafeteria 2, and also some kind of foreign film being projected onto the wall.

my sixth-grade teacher Mr. I walked into the room then, spotted me, and came over. we said hello, chatted a bit, and he asked if i could do him a favor - he needed a ride to a place called 'Eufala Hill' or something like that. i was like eh, why not, but i need REALLY good directions as i'm terrible with them otherwise. he said that was fine, i'd actually been to the place a long time ago, i just didn't remember... didn't think anything of that in the dream, but considering how the rest of the thing played out, it's kinda sinister now lol. so i agreed to meet him here at 7 tomorrow morning, wrote it down in my notebook so i'd remember, and he left. i started paying attention to the film then and found the English subtitles were accompanied by a second set of subtitles, above or below or sometimes laid over the originals, and they were all hilariously weird and dirty. we were all losing our shit laughing about it. the teacher supervising figured out the kids projecting the film from the booth behind Cafeteria 2 were doing it, and we all thought they'd get in trouble... but she was like 'okay, we've got half an hour of school left and i don't care, amuse me' and they had the green light to continue.

things got weird after that. at some point the boy next to me noticed it was getting awfully late and we should've been dismissed by now, but evidently there was a lockdown, so we just shrugged and kept watching the film. and then someone else went 'hey, it's 10:30 pm?????' and i checked the clock and yep, 10:30. i wasn't happy about being stuck at school so late, i needed to get home and sleep since i had to be back early tomorrow... and i had something else to do at midnight, because apparently i'd been a witch this entire time and my coven was holding a ceremony. k. the other students were beginning to get restless too, there were kids gathering in the halls and discussing whether or not to leave on their own. this other girl and i finally decided to go up to the front entrance and see what was going on.

we couldn't get there, though. someone had erected a massive barrier at the end of the corridor leading to the front wing on the building. a woman (inexplicably wearing a frilly nightgown) was there, angrily berating anyone who asked to leave, saying we had to stay and to get over it. when this other girl and i approached, though, she got really snide with us, going, "oh, you're the hacktivists. you can leave." idk if she was being sarcastic or not, because we promptly scrambled over the barrier... well, the other girl did. at this point, i was floating for no apparent reason; i just floated over lol. we ran to the front doors. they were locked, and as the other girl unlocked them, i looked up and noticed there was one of those 'pull to activate fire alarm' handles WAY up on the wall, almost at the ceiling. i guess i figured the panic might get the other kids to either rush the barrier and destroy it, or else they'd cheat and go out the windows and all the other doors lol. floated up there and pulled it just as the doors opened - i dropped something in the process but didn't look for it, just ran outside with the other girl.

right outside the doors was another hallway, but it was sort of a covered walkway more than anything? it was walled in, except with a bunch of large holes serving as windows... anyway, the girl and i ran along the front of the building. we got all the way down to the end where the library was, and suddenly WATER. the grass and parking lot had turned into a very large pond with a whole-ass marina. there were a ton of docks jutting out from the covered walkway. the other girl was way ahead of me now and just before turning the corner and getting out of sight, she called back that i'd dropped my car keys AND my slime, and don't forget i'd painted my slime pink!

now i had a problem - i needed my keys, but i'd dropped them by the front doors, and if my fire alarm idea worked, it would be a massive rush there right now. i had no choice but to go back. as i did, i found there was nobody outside - apparently my idea didn't work - and i didn't have to go back in, thankfully, as my slime (a little green blob with a face, like in Terraria, splattered with pink paint) had slipped out and was hopping down the hallway with my keys, which was more of a key card, but whatever. i grabbed them both and turned back around and ran.

so, back at the 'marina', i started looking closely at all the docks i passed because the leader of my coven had apparently left a note for me on one of them. i finally found it, but it wasn't readable unless i got into the water, so i did. it was sort of an invitation to that midnight event, which was about a girl named Marianna - maybe she was joining us? idk. there were a few other small pieces of paper stuck to the first. one was a tiny post-it-note-sized piece which i originally thought was an RSVP... but when i read it, i found out the leader knew i'd maybe left the coven or was doing something i shouldn't by attending this school? i'm not really sure, but she gave me a list of options - they were all basically 'stay' or 'go' dressed up in different words. if i left i was supposedly 'forsaking the language of my father' or something. as i was reading, a man emerged from the water next to me - literally emerged, as in he was created from the water - and climbed up onto the dock. i was going to ask him if he had any idea where the hell i'd parked, because i didn't want to think about my coven or anything now, i didn't want to leave but also there was some serious fuckery going on at my school and maybe i should handle that... anyway, i really just wanted to go home and get some rest at that point. the man didn't answer me and i think i woke up right about then.

#dream

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barleyjoose · 2 years ago

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bori blog intro

One year from now, all contents of this blog, till the end of the year 2023 (should we make it that far), will be removed.

Writing’s made a reappearance in my life again. Our relationship is a tenuous one. Mostly because my reasons for fancying it have changed over the years. My childhood was a solitary one confined at home and in my loneliest hours, written word offered comfort in a time and place where I felt I had no one else.

In school, I received enough recognition of my writing that allowed me, for the first time, to feel like I was a real person taking up actual space. And it felt damn good. To hear your teacher read aloud your Catch-22 essay projected on the classroom walls and go, yes, yes. You get it. In erratic scribbles, I mocked and mourned Doc Daneeka’s erased existence through his falsely documented death. And for a few minutes, I indisputably existed.

Soon afterwards (usually simultaneously with your first Praise), you are introduced to the concept of Value. What makes your work original? What is the story that only you can write? What’s the point of what you’re making? Is this book/essay/show/movie/person worth your time? This is when I started experiencing an emotion that wasn’t quite fear, but a resignation I thought would at least protect me from answering those questions.

In university I studied computer science, a major that I have no academic enthusiasm for, beyond whatever passion a person can have towards paying rent. With the right company, one summer software internship earned enough money to pay my remaining tuition and housing costs for the next school year. And dear God, did I suck at it. I failed to procure the grades required to declare the major and only gained acceptance into the program through an appeal letter I wrote. Funny how life works, right?

Still, I did the thing and managed to crawl my way out of college with a CS degree in hand. I struggled so much with my CS studies that I had no time left to explore my personal interests. I don’t think regret is the right word for this compromise. I was reluctant to take out loans, and I don’t know if I would have been able to confidently finish university at all without studying CS. I was even fortunate to find CS communities and friends whom I cherish deeply. But I do envy people who spent their college years taking classes that further developed and challenged their personal curiosities.

These days I’m mostly afflicted with a sense of nostalgia. I read my old writing sometimes. It’s awful. But there are phrases that I can pinpoint as moments I was growing into myself. And I say this as someone who now has the financial foundations to say so, but if I’m going to be bad at something, it would be nice to fail at something that lets me feel like I’m growing into something.

At this point, I am not sure what role writing plays in my life anymore.

———————

Art is difficult because there is a desire, a necessity even, to acknowledge the observer.

I reassured myself for the longest time that I write for love of the craft and not for you, the reader. But to tell you a secret, every word I write, I think of you. In public. In private. And it is for this reason I adore you. I also loathe you for it. With a seething viscosity that seeps the back passages of the throat. Even as I write this, I imagine who might you be and what you’re looking for here and what you will take from these words I give you.

Does that make you feel special, my faceless darling? Do you feel properly romanced? Seduced, even?

So why this year-long blog? Lately life has felt like I’m just existing between people. I see who’s there, move and weave between these people, and exist in whatever space remains. This has been a common pattern in my life, I’ve noticed. I don’t think it’s necessarily good or bad. At its best, this life encourages an openness to other people and their livelihoods. But I’m exhausted moving around and would like to occupy the space to sit and be myself. In a way, writing carves for me that tangible space.

I also have not been taking my meds. It might be that. I also saw Unus Annus retrending on Twitter recently. It is mostly that.

I still cannot confidently tell you if Unus Annus’s name is also meant to be a sex joke. I say that with utmost reverence. But the thought behind making something that only lasts a year fascinated me. I avoid publishing my work primarily because I fear how this one snapshot will be available for all the world to access and perceive. I’ve published articles that lack the nuance of a me who’s experienced a few more years of life, and though I don’t regret publishing them, I fear how someone will interpret my work without understanding how much I’ve changed.

But that fear has also stopped me from sharing my life with people whom I do want to share it with! And they exist! You, for example! There are challenges to the temporary nature of this blog, but there’s also a freedom that I’m looking forward to sharing with you. I want to share my writing with you without feeling burdened by its lifespan. The one year limit is a reminder that whatever I post here is a reflection of who I was and what I did this year — nothing more, nothing less. And that short existence still can hopefully mean something to you and me.

I am a chronic editor. I reread text exchanges months past their receipt date for fun and examine how well they communicated their intent. I've already edited this post and will definitely do the same for whatever else gets posted here to better explain what I want my words to convey. But I want to keep this blog as a partial glimpse of whoever I was in 2023, and that will hopefully counter the need to constantly recalibrate myself. And just. Move on.

There are caveats to this approach that I am considering and more than unlikely unconsidering. I don’t know how successful this blog’s temporal intentions will be. I can’t guarantee that I can successfully erase this entire blog’s existence. As much as I doubt someone will care enough, there’s screenshots. Word of mouth. The archive machine’s entire existence. The Internet is a terrifying domain of unknowns, and every day I live in fear and gratitude that I have no clue what this hellscape (affectionate, derogatory. slight bias for the former) will produce.

But it’s fine. We’ll figure it out.

The goal is to not write of you, to you. But it also is. To write is to demand someone’s time and ask that they see you.

There is a timed intimacy to written language that serves equal portions horror and allure. It comes with the self-centeredness of it all, I suppose. How sexy of it to do that.

———————

I’m going to avoid writing about writing like this for now. I find that excessive navel gazing into your craft interferes in your ability to actually partake in it. And for once in my life, I don’t want to overthink it and just wish to scream words into the void. Writing is already a bizarre hobby by nature. Isabel Kim wrote, “Writing is staring at a page or screen and hallucinating vividly or maybe not even getting to do that and you are mostly sitting lonely in your apartment and typing out words on a screen.” This might explain why most of my life just feels like one big hallucination.

Funnily enough, that quote was from a post that Isabel wrote on why she herself writes. So I guess I owe some self-reflection if I want to justify hallucinating for increased hours.

These days whenever I think about writing or any art, I keep revisiting the same question. What reminds me that I am alive? I'd like to tether my writing around that question, whatever angle I read it that day.

If you are here and I shared the existence of this doomed (intentionally or unintentionally, TBD) project, this indicates that I am somewhat comfortable with you witnessing me falling off my rocker, so to speak. Congratulations! Condolences! Whatever cocktail of the two that suits your tastes.

If you found this by happenstance or through word of mouth: I actually don’t know. (This will be a common theme). Enjoy the show, I guess. Tickets for future showings can be purchased at the door, if this one piques your fancy. Most likely I did not share this with you out of respect for your time and energy, but you’re also welcome to join us.

To be serious for a minute, though. However you arrived here, with or without invitation, I’m sincerely grateful for and humbled by your time and presence. You can thank my vanity for that (half a joke). Just leave me a little note saying you visited. My vanity will thank you for it.

If anything, I think that’s the captivating facet to publicity. That through this online medium, these words will reach people whom I wouldn’t have even considered, and the prospects of that discovery are both seductive and frightening.

What I gleaned from this reflection is that I am inexplicably drawn to things that make me both horny and afraid, ideally for the same reasons. Many kinks that previously made you go ".sorry, what." start to reveal more clarity through this lens, don't you think?

Are you entertained yet? Whatever the answer: good.

Here’s to the ride. See you in a year.

#i wasnt joking about the visitation notes #i chose tumblr specifically to interact w you via ask box #who r u ppl i just wanna know

0 notes

potter-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)

Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about

Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)

Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.

The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.

When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.

Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Hermione looked back to the group and asked,

“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”

“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.

Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.

Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.

“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“

Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.

“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.

“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”

The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.

Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.

“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.

He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.

So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.

Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.

Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.

Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.

This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.

The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.

By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.

Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.

His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.

It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.

For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.

Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.

Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,

“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”

As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.

Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.

Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.

Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.

“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.

Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,

“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”

A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.

“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.

Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“

Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.

Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.

“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.

George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,

“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.

“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”

Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,

“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?

George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to

“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.

George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,

“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“

“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.

Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,

“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“

“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.

George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.

As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.

Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.

For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.

Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.

Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.

As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.

Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.

Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking

“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.

“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.

“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.

“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”

Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn’t see the tall wizard in front of her.

“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”

“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.

For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.

Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.

Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.

At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.

Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,

“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”

Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.

George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,

“Should I leave?”

Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,

“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.

All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.

Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.

It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.

Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.

He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,

“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”

Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.

Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.

George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.

Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.

For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.

“As I was saying, George…”

Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.

Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.

Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.

The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.

Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.

She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,

“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.

“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”

“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.

“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.

Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.

“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.

“What?”

Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.

His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.

The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,

“I’m so happy you came, darling.”

Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.

Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.

Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.

“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.

The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.

Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,

“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.

Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,

“I’ve missed your voice, love.”

Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.

Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,

“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.

Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.

Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.

“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”

“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.

“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.

“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.

The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.

“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”

“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”

“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”

A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.

She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,

“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”

Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.

Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.

“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.

Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.

A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.

They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.

The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.

Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.

Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.

This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.

Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,

“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”

Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”

Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.

“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,

“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.

“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.

Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.

After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.

“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”

Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.

Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

Text

SAFE AND SOUND

a/n: this one took a little longer to write, but im so happy its finally finished! its not what i originally planned, i started a whole different plot but hated it so started again, but i might go back to the first story, so maybe more bodyguard!harry content is gonna come! anyway, hope you’ll enjoy this one!

pairing: Bodyguard!Harry X Reader

warning: use of weapon (no one dies), mentioning of cancer (no one is sick), sexual content

word count: 9.1k

masterlist

“This is not up for discussion, Y/N. What you are doing and what you are about to achieve soon might upset a lot of people that hold great power. We can’t just assume you’ll be fine, walking around like anyone else in the world.”

Your boss, Julian explains it to you, leaning onto his desk, trying his best to keep his cool about your protest to get you a guard to watch out for you and keep you safe. It’s been an ongoing struggle and fight you two have been having these past weeks and it became a burning situation since you’ve made some major progress in your project.

“I’m not some kind of royalty to have security with me all the time,” you grumble rolling your eyes.

“Not just royalties have guards, Y/N. Just accept it, that you’re valuable, your work is very important not just to our company but to the whole world. Do you not realize how big it is? You are close to having the cure to cancer, Y/N! You can easily get a Nobel-prize for that!”

“I know that it’s important, but no one knows me, no one will see me on the street and know who I am or what I do!”

“It’s not about the people on the street. The world is a dark place, darker than you could imagine. Please, just… I want to know that you’re safe.”

Staring back at him with your arms folded on your chest you contemplate his words. You can see the rationality in his words, it’s just that you don’t want to break your routine, you don’t want people around you all the time, you don’t want to end your privacy like that. But Julian is right, your work is important and there have already been a few attempts to steal your researches, but they miserably failed. However that doesn’t mean they will be stopped the next time as well.

“One guard,” you speak up. “Just one. I’m not gonna have a whole fucking team,” you tell him raising your eyebrows. He lets out a relieved sigh, a tiny smile tugging on his lips.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Reaching out to the phone he presses the buzzer that signals to his assistant, Monica outside and a few moments later she walks in, accompanied with a tall, suited man, his green eyes immediately falling to you upon entering the room.

“Y/N, I took the courage to pick him out for you myself. This is Harry Styles, the best you can find in the city if not in the country,” Julian introduces him as he pushes himself away from his giant mahogany desk, walking closer to the man as they shake hands firmly. You stand up from the armchair you’ve been sinking into these past ten minutes and unsurely hold out your hand to the man.

“Harry Styles, pleasure to meet you,” he introduces himself, a thick British accent lacing through his voice and the way his green irises stare back at you, you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Mr. Styles is undeniably the most charming and handsome man you’ve ever met, with his perfectly carved cheekbones and chiseled jawline, pink lips and those enchanting green eyes framed by his thick lashes. There’s something in his appearance, something feminine, but still, he holds so much masculinity at the same time, it’s hard not to be enamored by him.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you mumble your name, shaking his hand slightly before letting go of it.

“Details about your cooperation have already been discussed with the security agency and us, but of course, your word is what counts, so we’ll walk over the whole plan with you as well,” Julian explains to you and you nod shortly.

The three of you move to the conference room and the next hour goes by with working those so called details out, some of them are ridiculous, some of them you can get used to, at the end you are left with a somewhat bearable plan, but one thing is for sure. Harry Styles will be a big part of your life from now on.

THREE MONTHS LATER

The tiny pack of sugar tears open in your hands, but you put too much effort into it so the countertop is now covered with the content of the pack instead of ending up in your paper cup.

“Fuck,” you growl, dumping the empty pack into the trash before grabbing another one, hoping it won’t end up the same way.

“Let me help you,” a smooth, male voice speaks up next to you and Harry grabs the pack from your hands as he places his own coffee to the counter. You let him tear the pack open easily, pouring the sugar into your drink without problem before he puts the lid back to your cup.

“Thank you,” you mumble, closing your tired eyes for a split second. You’ve been overworking way too much these past weeks, it’s starting to shut your system down, but you don’t want to rest, not when you’re so close to finishing your project.

The past two weeks have been major, you finally made the progress you’ve been working towards for months now, letting you step into the last phase of your work finally. But it’s been a quite stressful time as you’ve been eager to finish as soon as possible, but that meant little to no time spent outside of your lab.

Harry shoots you a reassuring smile before you both grab your drinks and head out of the café in the direction of your workplace.

The past three months were one hell of a ride when it comes to Harry. You didn’t hide your dislike towards his continuous presence in your life, standing by your side wherever you went. It frustrated you, made you feel like you didn’t have your freedom any longer even though he never did anything to make you hate him. He was considerate, respectful and only wanted to do his job, yet you still gave him a hard time at the beginning, right until the need for his work was proved.

Two months ago someone broke into your apartment while you were out, they searched through the whole place, looking for something. Well, not just something, they were clearly interested in anything connected to your research, but luckily, you’re not dumb enough to just let these stuff lay around your home.

Even though you didn’t encounter the person responsible for it, the incident still shook your up. Knowing that someone could get into your personal space so easily, that they could have come at a time when you were home and vulnerable, it scared you. Harry was the person that eased the worry and fear in you, he took care of everything in an instant and upon his best advice, you moved to a new apartment with a higher security level. He even moved to the place next to yours so he could be as close to you as possible at all times. There was a much needed shift in your relationship after that and you didn’t see him as an intruder any longer in your life, but more as a hero.

“So would you like Italian or Mexican tonight for dinner?” Harry asks as the two of you enter the building, using your IDs you go through the massive security gates, the guards in post nodding in your way.

“Isn’t it your night to choose?” you smile at him sideways as you wait for the elevator.

“Okay, then Thai,” he smirks, making you laugh. “Hope you are not planning on eating it here again,” he gives you a warning look and you purse your lips.

“I have a lot to do, and—“

“Y/N, you need to rest sometimes,” he scolds you as if you were just a child.

“I do rest. Sometimes,” you answer with an innocent look as the elevator’s door slides open and you walk in with Harry following you right behind.

“Like once a week? Do you even sleep when you’re at home?”

“I do! Don’t make me look like I’m some kind of crazy workaholic!”

“I’m just worried about you, is all,” he sighs, giving you a hard look.

“Oh, Mr. Styles. If I didn’t know you better I would think you might have a soft spot for me,” you smirk at him teasingly before the elevator arrives to your floor and you walk out without a word. Harry just stares after you with a small smile tugging on his lips as he thinks about your words. It’s funny, especially because you both know something more than just a professional relationship has been going on between the two of you, only dancing around it as the situation is a little too complicated to address now.

It’s not like any rules are tying you down, but you would rather not mix up work with your private life. You might have feelings for Harry, but you refuse to act up on them until he is out of his duty as your personal guard.

Your days are usually the same. While you lock yourself up in your lab, working with no end, Harry stay either with you in there or he hovers around the door, keeping an eye on everyone and everything. Just the thought of his presence never fails to bring you a sense of comfort, knowing that you don’t have to worry about your safety until he is near. It might seem nerdy, but you can easily get lost in your work. It doesn’t feel like a job, growing up with parents who were excellent doctors and pharmacists themselves, you were doomed to be a science enthusiast yourself from the beginning. Learning has never been a task for you but a gift, as you liked to look at it.

Working overtime happens often because you lose touch with time easily once you get down to work. Nothing exists outside of your lab and you hardly realize how late it is until Harry usually warns you.

“I didn’t joke when I said I didn’t want to have dinner in here,” he steps into your sanctuary while you’re in the middle of running tests for the millionth time today. Pushing your glasses up to the top of your head while the machines are buzzing and whirling, you look up at him with a tired smile.

“Let me just… finish this one last test and then I promise we’ll head out.”

“Alright, but I’m watching you. No more tests,” he warns, sitting on one of the stools while you finish what you started.

Harry never really asked you about your work, for a while you weren’t even sure if he knows what you’re doing and why it’s so important. It was never discussed at the beginning and he never brought it up later either. But judging from the time he spends near you at the lab he must have picked up a few things about it surely.

The machines stop working and the tiny beeping sound signals that the results are out. You grab the long printed paper and start scanning the data, chewing on your bottom lip as you hope to find what you’ve been looking for all day. The numbers are coming in great, but it’s been like this for a while, it’s the end that never matches up with your expectations. So when you get there and see the graphs showing the result that you’ve been dreaming of since the start of the whole project years ago, your mouth falls open in disbelief even though it’s what you’ve been working for all this time.

“Oh my God,” you whisper.

“What?” Harry’s head snaps up in alert, jumping off the stool.

“I… I did it,” you breathe out, glancing up from the paper. “It’s my first time succeeding, Harry!” you start laughing, the shock taking over your whole body that you really did it this time.

“And what does that mean?”

“Come on, let me show you,” you tell him in excitement, pulling him over to the computer where you pull up all the data you’ve been working on. A virtual version of a cell comes up on the screen as you start typing, modelling what you want to show him. “This is a completely healthy cell, it’s what you are made of too, mostly,” you ass with a chuckle before another cell comes up on the screen. “And this is what cells that are affected by cancer look like.”

The difference is a lot more complicated than what you can explain to him in such a short time, but he can see it with his own eyes. The color, the shape, everything is different from the first one. Harry examines the screen and nods shortly, letting you know that he is following.

“I’ve been working on a substance that is able to not just detect the cancerous cells but it can also kill it effectively without hurting the healthy ones.”

You bring up the virtualized version of the substance you’ve been working on, a short animation showing how it can tell the two cells apart and only attack the cancerous one.

“I haven’t been able to get the numbers above 60% when it comes to succeeding in the process of selection so my whole project was about finding a solution to that. I’ve been trying to find the right substance to mix with our already existing one to solve the problem, but I haven’t been successful in it.”

“I assume until now,” Harry hum and you nod smirking.

“Yeah. The last test results came back very good, quite promising. It’s still not the end of the process, but it’s a huge step.”

“That’s great,” he smiles at you and though you know he probably understands just a fracture of the whole process, he can still figure out how important it is. “Congrats, Y/N.” “Thanks,” you breathe out, pride filling your chest as you shut the computer off. “I guess this is my cue to end the day,” you smile at him before packing up everything, getting ready to finally leave.

It’s not the first time Harry is spending the evening at your place. You often have dinner together, or watch a movie whenever you get home early enough to do that. Through the time you’ve spent together because of his job you’ve grown to be friends above everything. Good ones, in fact, which is a big deal for you since making friends has never been an easy task for you.

You bought takeout on the way home and as Harry set the table you poured yourself a glass of wine, knowing well Harry would never drink when he is on duty and he is basically working all the time he is with you, so you’re drinking alone. You both sit to the dining table, starting dinner together in a comfortable silence. It’s another thing you appreciate about Harry. He doesn’t try to talk when it’s not necessary, you hate small talk, you’d rather sit in silence than talk about something nonsense and Harry is a partner in that.

“When do you need to leave work tomorrow to get to the party on time?” he asks breaking the silence and you freeze. His eyes fall on you, examining your features for a moment before he smirks. “You forgot about it?”

“I just… thought it’s going to be next week,” you truthfully admit.

“We talked about it last week,” he smirks at you playfully. “And I told you it would be next week which is… this week.”

“I know how the days work, Harry,” you give him a look of ‘give me a break’ before you turn back to your food. “I just…”

“You just forgot it,” Harry finishes for you, and you just roll your eyes at him.

Glancing at him over the table you wonder if he’ll wear something different than is usual attire he always wears. Black suit with a white shirt underneath, the top two buttons left undone, giving you a tiny peek at the tattoos on his chest. You know those are not the only ones, you’ve seen him with the suit jacket off before, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, his whole left arm is covered in ink and you wish you’ve had the chance to take a better look at them.

Harry is such an intriguing person in a lot of different ways. He definitely likes to keep things to himself, not one to ask for attention and it’s not just because of his work, it’s his personality. However he is good with people, interacting with them, being social. A skill you haven’t really mastered yourself yet and you probably never will. He always seems to know what to say, you’ve never seen him even the slightest bit anxious or nervous before, the confidence he holds is unmatched and it makes it hard to not think about him in ways you shouldn’t be.

After dinner he helps you clean up, just like he always does before heading out, but before he could leave he stops and turns back to face you.

“Oh, a friend of mine is visiting from the UK on Sunday. I already mentioned it to you before, but I was hoping I could get the afternoon off,” he wonders and you nod right away.

“Of course! I’ll be just fine at home,” you smile at him.

“Thank you,” he smiles back before walking out of your place at last.

Because of the party in the evening you are forced to stop working early the next day. It’s weird to leave the office in broad daylight, but you know today can’t be one of those days when you end up seeing the new day in the lab.

Harry was right yesterday, you completely forgot the whole party thing, meaning you didn’t plan anything ahead and you had nothing to wear, so through the day you called your sister, Mara to help you out. She was more than happy to lend you anything you needed. She meets you at the office, beaming to spend some time with you finally. It’s not that you don’t like her company, but you are quite different, is all. Your sister didn’t get sucked into the world of science, though she definitely has the bright mind to take up on any field she would want to explore. But she was more into the world of art, having written her first fantasy novel at the ripe age of twenty, she is now a bestseller author at only twenty-nine with a bubbly personality and basically every trait you never owned yourself.

“Harry! So nice to see you again!” Mara beams at the man as the three of you meet up at the lobby.

“Hi, Mara,” Harry smiles with a tiny nod.

“Alright, I have everything you could need so let’s head to yours!” your sister cheers before you make your way out to your cars.

Arriving to your home Harry splits from the two of you, letting you to get ready in peace and also to get ready himself. Mara didn’t joke when she said she has everything you need, the trunk of her car is basically filled with clothes and shoes, there’s no chance you won’t find something to wear tonight.

She orders you to take a quick shower as she unpacks everything she brought and when you emit from a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around your body and one on your head, Mara gets down to work.

“So do you have a date for today?” she curiously asks while she does your makeup.

“Huh, yeah, sure,” you huff ironically. “It’s just gonna be Harry and me.”

“So Harry is your date?” her ears perk up, but you’re quick to protest.

“Of course not! He comes with me everywhere,” you mumble with your eyes closed as she is doing something on your eyelids.

“But it could be a date,” she offers and you huff in disagreement.

“You know that’s not how it works, Mara.”

“You are making it more complicated than it is! No one would blame you if you just… went for it! Harry is obviously an attractive guy.”

“Then maybe you should date him,” you bite back bitterly. Growing up you weren’t the boys’ favorite, they always paid all the attention to your sister. It’s not that you blame her or them, she always had a more capturing and lively personality that attracted people naturally. But it made you wonder if there was something wrong with you, spending all your time with your nose buried in a book or doing researches for fun while Mara was out with her friends, living her best life. Even her published books were inspired by her personal life experiences.

“Y/N,” she sighs, her hands leaving your face so you open your eyes to look at her disapproving expression. “You obviously like him so I would never do that and besides that, he for sure likes you too.”

“What’s not true,” you deny right away, but then you look at her curiously. “But why would you think that?”

Mara smirks at you tilting her head to the side, seeing right through your act that you’re not interested in Harry. Of course you are, but you choose to keep it at bay for the sake of his job.

“Y/N, I see how that man watches every move you make. It’s written all over his handsome face.”

“Of course he watches my every move, that’s his job!”

“No, it’s different. You’ll see it sooner or later,” she smiles before ordering you to close your eyes again so she can finish your makeup.

Mara does wonders to your looks, the makeup look she does on you already makes a huge difference since you don’t bother to do anything on your every days. But she didn’t stop there, she made your hair look like you just stepped off of the pages of a magazine and the dress the two of you chose was the cherry on the top. The emerald green dress was tight around your curves, showing just enough of your body to be still considered modest, but also have some spice. And though there are a lot of advantages of the dress, your first and most important thought (to you at least) was how well it goes with the color of Harry’s eyes.

“I’m a genius,” Mara sighs satisfied with her work as you slip on the pair of nude heels and put your necessities into the little clutch you’re taking with you. Just when you’re gone with everything, the doorbell rings and your heart jumps in your chest, knowing that Harry is standing on the other side of the door.

“I’ll get it for you,” Mara smiles rushing to the door as you walk into the hallway, standing a few feet behind her so as she opens the front door and Harry comes into view, over Mara’s shoulder his eyes easily find your figure standing there, feeling a little awkward and self-conscious, like you are about to go to prom with your crush. Difference is that you are not a teenager anymore and you aren’t going anywhere together together. Tonight is just work for him.

But as his bright green eyes fall on your frame and you see his lips slightly part, you can’t help but allow yourself to think for a moment that it’s more than just work. That he feels the same way about it as you do. Though you don’t voice your hopes and just smile at him faintly, hoping you don’t look completely ridiculous in your outfit.

“Harry, come on in!” Mara invites him into the apartment and he walks in, wearing his usual black suit with the difference of having a tie on around his neck, his white shirt is appearing neat and crispy and his sometimes unruly curls are now gently combed back a little so his curls are not falling into his forehead.

“Hi,” you smile at him nervously fumbling with your clutch as he takes a few steps closer to you.

“Hi. You look… beautiful,” he smiles back at you a little breathlessly as he takes a respectful look down your body before his green irises meet your gaze again.

“Thank you. You look great too,” you chuckle softly. “Should we… head out?”

“Yeah, sure!” he nods, offering you his arm and you link your arm with his instantly, hoping you won’t trip in your heels. “Lock the door when you leave, Mara, alright?” you call out to your sister who is watching you smiling.

“Sure! Have fun!”

You wave at her one last time before walking out and shutting the door closed behind you.

This party is held every year at Pharma-Z, mostly this is the time when the brain meets the money. Investors and funders like to meet the people behind the million dollars researches from time to time and this is the occasion where both sides show up. Julian always asks you to be social and try to mingle, but the whole thing feels forced and painful for you. You’d rather just be left alone with your researches and projects without having to schmooze to the people who give you the money for your hard work.

It’s held at one of said investors’ luxurious penthouse, that doesn’t even look like someone’s home with the huge outdoors infinity pool, the spacious and modern interiors and the expensive looking decoration that was put up just for the occasion.

“Y/N! I’m so happy you are here!” Julian approaches you with a drink in his hands and you’re happy to see a familiar face in the crowd. You don’t really know others from work, only your little team you directly work with and of course, your boss, Julian.

“It’s not like I had a choice,” you chuckle giving him a short, friendly hug. Julian is far from a nightmare of a boss some people have to face at their job. He is an actually nice and very smart and intellectual person. The pharmaceutical industry can be harsh and dark, the competition between the businesses is way more intent than people think. This is why you need the protection. Some companies profit off of the fact that cancer has no cure yet. They make money from all the treatments that doesn’t even guarantee full recovery. A lot of big fish don’t want the cure, because that would make them lose a good chunk of their income and some of those would even go to the depth of hurting you for being so close to ruining their business with your invention. Pharma-Z is luckily a genuine company that wants to help sick people and that’s why you’re working there.

“You know how important it is for the company,” Julian sighs, but he understands how uncomfortable these events make you feel, though he can do nothing to help you. “Harry, nice to see you again,” he smiles at the man by your side.

“Julian, nice to see you too,” he nods, shaking hands with your boss.

“Mingle a little so people can see and meet you, alright?” Julian requests and you just nod silently before he moves on to the next group of people.

You get yourself a drink to ease your nerves a little as people start approaching you. Some of them you’ve met last year, but there are a lot of new faces. Your project has brought in quite a few new sponsors and investors and now they want to meet you and talk about the research their money is going into.

You try your best to keep a smile plastered across your face as you tell the people the same thing over and over again, receiving praise and compliments on your work before moving onto the next conversation just to start over again.

You can feel your social batteries running out, not sure you can put up with another conversation with a wealthy investor who wants you to know you have a job because they gave money for your project in hopes of you bringing more money to them.

Harry has stayed by your side the whole evening, and you didn’t notice but he kept examining you every few minutes to make sure you were holding up and he noticed how tired you’ve grown from socializing for so long.

“Y/N,” he softly calls out, his palm finding the small of your back. “Why don’t we get some fresh air?” he kindly offers and you immediately understand that he is trying to get you away from the guests and the overwhelming conversations you’ve been dealing with. Nodding you let him usher you outside, finding a spot where the two of you can be a little alone.

“I fucking… hate small talks and being nice to everyone,” you let out a long and heavy sigh, as you lean against the railing, paying just one short glance at the city’s bright lights under your feet. Harry chuckles shortly.

“I figured. You’ve been chewing your lips so hard I was afraid you’d start bleeding.”

Now that he has brought your attention to it, you realize you are doing it again, so you let go of your bottom lip from between your teeth and it brings out another chuckle from Harry.

“I’m just… not good with these… social stuff.”

“I disagree with that,” he hums, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Oh please, if you haven’t realized it, my number of zero friends is a tell, I think.”

“Come on, it’s not zero. You’re friends with Mara.”

“But family doesn’t count, she is kind of forced to be my friend,” you shrug, making him laugh.

“Okay, but I’m your friend too, aren’t I?” You furrow your eyebrows at him.

“You spend time with me because it’s your job.”

His eyes soften on you as he leans against the railing next to you, looking so effortlessly handsome and charming, you almost need to take a deep breath at the sight of him. And the cheeky smile on his pink lips is definitely not helping your case.

“I know you didn’t mean that. You’re a smart woman, Y/N.” Reaching out he tugs a loose strand of hair behind your ear as he inches closer a tiny bit. “I think we stepped over the line of just work.”

“So… you consider me your friend?” you ask shyly.

“If you have to ask maybe I’ve been doing something wrong,” he chuckles softly, making you smile too. Folding your arms a shiver runs down your spine from the cold evening breeze. “Are you cold?” Harry asks, but before you could even say a word, he shrugs his jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders.

“Oh, thank you,” you breathe out shyly.

“Do you want another drink?”

“Yeah, I think I might need another one,” you chuckle and nodding he tells you to just stay there until he gets you a new one.

Turning towards the view, you enjoy the lonely moments for a little, not too keen on going back inside and keep up the façade of interest any longer. You’d rather just head home, maybe have another drink with Harry on your couch while you watch a rerun of whatever show is on TV and then fall asleep after a hot shower. You’ve been working way too much lately and it’s just now crashing down on you. Next week you definitely should cut back on your hours at the lab, the project is already going amazing, it won’t hurt if you actually had some rest before you lose your mind.

You hear footsteps approaching you and you think it’s Harry returning, but as you turn around you are faced with a stranger, a man who is staring down at you with bloodshot eyes and… a gun pointed at you.

Your breath hitches, your blood freezing in your veins at the sight and your legs almost give up underneath you.

“What… who are you?” Your voice comes out as a whisper, tears already flooding your eyes as you melt against the railing as if you had anywhere to go, but you have no chance against him.

One glance at the gun allows you to see that it has a silencer on, with the music coming from inside and no one around, if he shoots you, he’ll be able to get away before anyone realizes what happened.

The man doesn’t answer, just holds up the gun, aiming right at your chest and you close your eyes, thinking that this is it. This is how your life ends, in the middle of a posh party with no one around to help you. Your lips are trembling and hands are shaking as you hold onto the railing, waiting for the inevitable to come, keeping your eyes shut, not wanting to see your killer as the last thing you see before you go.

And then you hear the muffled gunshot, making you scream in fear, your knees turning into jelly, but the pain never comes. Instead, you hear grunting and growling as a body falls to the ground in front of you.

Your eyes snap open and you see Harry straddling the man, the gun lying near your attacker’s hand and he is trying to reach it, but before he could, you kick it away as Harry throws a punch at his face that stops him from trying too hard to free himself.

The next few moments are so busy and blurry at the same time. Your legs give up underneath you, making you fall to the ground, your whole body shaking in waves. In the meantime Harry gets the man into a position where he can be easily controlled and people start flooding out at the scene, helping Harry while security working at the party take the man, the police already on its way.

When Harry can finally step back from the attacker, his eyes fall on your figure and he rushes over to you, kneeling down next to your trembling body, cradling you into his arms upon seeing how shaken up you are.

“Hey, it’s alright. It’s over, you’re alright,” he murmurs, holding you tight as your fists grab onto his shirt, your breathing is uneven, the oxygen barely makes its way into your lungs as you’re panting and gasping from the shock. “Come on, let’s get you inside, Y/N,” he gently tells you, helping you up from the floor even though your body feels like a pile of brick.

You can feel everyone staring at you, whispering behind your back as you try to hide in Harry’s arms while he walks you back inside, away from the man that tried to take your life. He walks you into one of the bathrooms and closing the lid he sits you down to the toilet while he grabs a towel and wetting it he kneels in front of you, tapping the cloth to your cheeks gently. You haven’t even realized that you’ve been sweating from the shock and the coldness feels amazing against your burning skin.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, but not even you are sure why.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Y/N,” he gently murmurs, giving your hand a squeeze as you shut your eyes closed. He grabs a glass from one of the cabinets and fills it with water handing it over to you.

“Thank you,” you mumble, bringing it to your trembling lips, but before you could drink it, your eyes snap up to meet his gaze. “And thank you for… what you did.” Your voice dies down at the end, the picture of the man pointing the gun at you still living so vividly in your mind.

“No need, it’s my job after all, right?” he chuckles softly, making your lips twitch the slightest bit before you start sipping on the water.

The police show up soon and they arrest the man who refuses to talk. They also request you to give your statement about what happened, but Harry manages to let you just give them the brief story and go in sometime soon to give them your full statement so you don’t have to spend any more time there. They are quite sure the man was hired by someone who doesn’t want you to finish your project, and it’s scary how far some people are willing to go just for the money, just to keep sick people in suffering for their own benefit.

Heading home you stay silent as Harry drives, staring out the window you let the nightlights of the city pass by you while you still see the same face, the face of the man that held a gun at you tonight. The gunshot is still ringing through your ears, it was so close, so real… of course it was real! All of it was real and your life was on the line. If it weren’t for Harry, you wouldn’t be here right now.

Arriving to your home Harry helps you out of the car and you cling onto his hand as you head up to the apartment. He keys the two of you into your home, flicking the lights on and looking around before you go further inside, just to be sure.

“It’s all clear, don’t worry,” he murmurs as you nod and make your way into the bedroom. Kicking your heels off your feet you sit on the edge of the bed, letting out a long breath, feeling your limbs loosening up a bit for the first time in the past hour.

Harry moves around the place doing whatever before he joins you in the room, kneeling in front of you his hands find your bare knees and your eyes meet his worry-filled green irises.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he softly asks and you nod your head. “Come on, I’ll start the water for you.”

He helps you up from the bed and walks you into the bathroom. You stand there awkwardly, not sure what to do as he starts running the water in the walk in shower before he steps back to you.

“Would you…?” you ask, turning around, needing help with the zipper of your dress. Harry clears his throat as his fingers work on it and a moment later the fabric loosens around your frame as you hold it to your chest with your arms. Turning back around you peek up at Harry and you notice the slight blush on his cheeks.

“I’ll be outside at the door, okay?” He whispers, his fingers delicately touching your cheek as you nod before you watch him walk out and close the door behind him.

The hot water feels freshening, like it could burn away the memories even though it’s still so vivid in your mind. You stand under the running water longer than you intended, but it feels nice and needed. Once you’re done, you wrap yourself into a fluffy towel and walk out of the steamy bathroom only to find Harry sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting like a loyal puppy. When he sees you, he stands from his spot and you don’t miss the way his eyes scan over your body that’s barely covered.

“Alright, I’ll go now, but if you—“ “Don’t!” you gasp, panic taking over you at the thought of being left alone. One of your hands grasps his arm to stop him from moving and he freezes in his spot, staring back at your fearful eyes. “Please, stay here,” you plead, voice barely over than just a whisper.

There’s a heartbeat of a pause in him as he is watching you intently and for a moment you think he’ll say no, but then his hand finds yours on his arm and he gives it a gentle squeeze as he nods.

“Okay.”

You let out a long, relieved breath as you ease into comfort. He’s staying, he’ll be with you all night, protecting you from everything and everyone.

“Can I take a shower too?” he asks softly and you nod, stepping to your wardrobe to get him a clean towel. “Thank you. I’ll be back shortly,” he tells you before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door closed behind him.

You hear the water running again and you find yourself standing at the same spot as you listen to the noises coming from the bathroom. Harry is in there, soaking under the water naked and you can’t take your mind off of how badly you want to be there with him.

It’s not just because of what happened tonight, though it made you realize that you don’t have much time to waste. Nothing can assure that you’ll live another day and you don’t want to deny happiness from yourself. You want to be with Harry and as far as you can make it out, he feels the same way.

Upon a sudden decision, you pad your way over to the bathroom door and open it carefully, the warmth immediately hitting your face as you step inside and close it behind you. The glass of the shower is steamed up, you can only make out the blurry frame of Harry in there and you wonder if he heard you come in, but it doesn’t seem like that. His clothes from the night are lying on the floor in a pile, his watch that he always wears is carefully placed next to the sink.

Your hands grab onto the edge of the towel around your body and you unwrap yourself, hanging it up on the wall before stepping to the shower. Hoping you won’t scare him, you open the door, the steam immediately hugging your naked body warmly and you see him standing there with his back facing you as you step into the spacious walk-in shower.

He notices your presence, you see him freeze mid-movement before he peeks over his shoulder, his eyes falling on you as he slowly turns, facing you completely. Standing in front of him completely bare, you feel more vulnerable than ever in your life. You’re scared that he is going to send you away, that he won’t let you get closer to him and if that happens, you’ll feel humiliated, but he just stands there in his naked glory and doesn’t say anything, so you take it as a chance to shoot your shot.

Reaching up your hands slide to his hard chest, up to the base of his neck as you push your front against his, skin to skin with the hot water running down your bodies. His hands find your waist and you could cry from the feeling of his touch on you. Pushing yourself up to your tiptoes your nose nudges against his as your eyes fall closed.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, stopping you right when your lips could meet. Opening your eyes you see the hesitation in his green irises that appear so much darker than they usually do.

“Do you not want it? You don’t want me?” you whisper.

“I do. It’s not that,” he sighs shaking his head slightly. “But you went through a lot today. I don’t want you to make decisions you might regret in the morning.”

You can’t help the small smile that tugs on your lips at how considerate and protective he is over you, thinking that this might be just something that crashed over you in the heat of the moment, but it’s been in the making from the first day you met him. Despite all your protesting against him, you knew you needed him and not just as your guard. He is what’s been missing from your life all along, you just never realized it.

“There’s nothing I could regret when it comes to you, Harry. I needed tonight to open my eyes. Our days are counted, I’m done running from my own happiness.”

He lets out a long, shaky breath as his hands hold tighter onto your waist while your hands run up his neck until your fingers tangle into his wet locks.

“I need you. And not just because of tonight. I’ve always needed you.”

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m all yours,” he breathes out before his lips smash against yours all wet and hard, but it’s the most heavenly feeling you’ve ever experienced.

You become a mess, tangled in each other, lips melting together as your hands explore naked limbs and torsos, bodies pressing tightly against each other shamelessly. Harry walks you backwards until your back hits the cold tile and you let out a whimper as you arch your back at the sudden feeling, just as his head dips down, lips attacking your neck, kissing and nibbling on the soft skin. Your light leg lifts as his hands wander down your thigh, your hips pressing together and you feel how hard he is, his cock pushed against your other thigh, making you moan at the feeling. Reaching down you blindly wrap a hand around the base, giving him a few slow pumps, earning a guttural growl from him before his lips return to yours, kissing you hard and filled with passion. His hands are all over you, on your thighs, ass, back and chest, as if he was mapping your whole body wanting to remember how every inch feels under his touch.

Without tearing his lips away from yours, he blindly reaches behind him, shutting the water off before urging you to jump into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. He carries you out of the shower, placing you to the counter next to the sink as he stands between your legs, his hands once again finding your breasts as they knead them, making you whimper and shake under his touch. It’s euphoric and addictive, you already know you won’t be able to go a day without feeling him against you like this.

“Bed?” he breathes out against your mouth and you nod eagerly. Reaching to the side he grabs a towel, wrapping it around you, tapping and squeezing you to dry you off, throwing fits of giggles when you grab it and wrap it around his body as well.

The towel falls to the floor abandoned and forgotten as he lifts you off the counter and brings you to the bed, laying you down and holding himself up above you with one arm. His other hand cups your cheek and turning your head you kiss his palm gently, eyes glued to his as he settles between your legs.

“Are you sure about this?” he breathes out, his lips dancing against your cheek and the corner of your mouth.

“Yes! Harry, please!” you beg with a whimper, your whole body aching to feel him inside you.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, love,” he kisses you as his hand leaves your heated face, runs down your naked body until his fingers reach your throbbing clit.

He slides two digits through your already wet folds, but just to work you up even more he starts drawing circles on your bud, turning you into a whimpering mess underneath him. Your fingers dig into the lean muscles on his back, feeling them twitch from his movements and one hand sliding down to his ass, grabbing a handful of him while pushing him closer to you, his erection pressing against your core.

“Harry, I need you!” you moan, not able to contain yourself any longer. You need to feel him, you need him as close as possible.

Reaching over to your nightstand you grab a condom from the drawer, ripping the package open with your teeth before you carefully grab his erection and roll the condom down his length, ready to finally feel him inside you.

He flicks his fingers on your clit one last time before his hand wraps around the base of his cock, giving it a few pumps while his soft lips kiss down your jawline and throat, his face hiding in the crook of his neck. Your arms circle around his shoulders, your chest heaving from the sensation as he positions himself just right, the tip teasing your hole. Harry lifts his head up, his bright eyes finding your gaze just as he sinks into you, filling you up perfectly.

“H-Harry! Fuck—“ you gasp at the feeling, your walls stretching around his thick cock as he stays still for a few moments, letting you adjust to his size.

You draw your legs up, giving you more space to go deeper as he starts thrusting, sliding in and out of you oh so perfectly, inching you closer to your relief with each movement. You cup his face in your hands, staring into his eyes as if you could see his soul in them and for a split second, you feel like you actually do. His lips are parted and the cross pendant is grazing your chest while he fucks into you, never falling out of his rhythm.

You want to beg to him not to stop, to keep moving and moving, but no words can leave your mouth as your back arches, your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach. You start grinding your hips in sync with his, allowing him to reach deeper into you, making your toes curl from pleasure.

“Harry, I’m gonna—I-I’m gonna—Ah!” You can’t make up one coherent sentence as your legs start shaking, feeling your orgasm taking over your body.

“I know, baby. Let it go. Let me make you feel good,” he pants, his lips kissing you everywhere he can reach, your lips smashing against each other in a messy kiss, your tongue meeting his in the middle just when you reach your high.

You moan and cry out his name, fingers digging into his flesh as you chase your release. Seeing you fall apart underneath him is enough to throw him over the edge, spilling himself into the condom as his mouth hangs agape, your name falling off his tongue as if it was the holiest glorification. Combing your fingers through his hair you hold him to your chest as he collapses on top of you, his head lying on your naked chest as you both try to catch your breath in the sudden silence that came over you without the sounds of your passion.

Rolling off of your body he slips out of you, an empty feeling taking over you right away, but he is quick to cradle you into his arms to keep the intimacy. You lay your head to his chest, a thin layer of sweat covering the both of you, but you couldn’t care less. You listen to his steady heartbeat as you draw one of the swallows on his chest with your finger, running it over the lines of the ink. You want to soak in the moment and stay in it for as long as possible, but you can barely keep your eyes open. As Harry’s fingers are gently running up and down your bare back you let your eyes close and the last thing you remember is hearing his soft whisper.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep you safe.”

You wake up without an alarm in the morning and it’s the first time for that in a long-long time. You stir and groan before you open your eyes, your hands reaching out next to you, looking for the man that was next to you when you fell asleep, but there’s nothing and no one beside you now.

Panic rises in your chest as your eyes pop open and you frantically look around in the room, hoping to see him somewhere near, but you’re alone.

“Harry?” you call you as you sit up, holding the sheets to your chest since you’re still naked. No answer comes and you can feel your heart rate rising instantly.

Getting out of bed you grab the nearest clothing item you find which is an old hoodie, and you put on a pair of clean panties before you carefully walk out of the bedroom, afraid of what you might find outside, but it’s completely silent and still, no one is around. Harry has left.

“Fuck,” you breathe out, feeling the lump in your throat growing as tears are forming in your eyes.

Where did he go? Why did he leave? Is he coming back? Is he gone forever?

You can’t stop yourself from going into depth you shouldn’t, just because you don’t find him first thing in the morning, but you still haven’t entirely recovered from last night’s events and before you could stop yourself, you are thinking about the worst possibilities there could be.

And then you hear the lock turning in the front door.

Blood rushes out of your head as you freeze, afraid it’s another attacker and this time you won’t be as lucky as you were last night. But as the door opens Harry walks in with a paper bag in his arm and you can’t help, but start sobbing at the sight of him.

“Harry!” you cry out, launching at him and he barely have time to put the bag down before he catches you, locking you in his strong arms.

“Hey! No need to worry, it’s just me!” he soothes softly, his hands running up and down your back and head. “I’m sorry I scared you, just wanted to get you something to eat, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as you try your best to hold back your sobs.

“I just woke up alone and I thought…”

“I’m sorry, baby. I shouldn’t have left while you were sleeping. But I’m back and I’m alright.”

You just nod, hugging him a little longer before you loosen your hold around him to lean back and look him in the eyes.

“So… you’re staying? With me?”

“If you want me to, yes,” he nods with a soft smile as he cups your tear-soaked face in his hands. “I’ll keep you safe and sound and I’ll be whatever you need me to be.”

“Just be yourself and… be with me,” you shyly ask him and he nods, his smile growing into a wide grin before he leans down and captures your lips in a sweet, intoxicating kiss.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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