#for real though..my mother used to talk about moving to canada and living with her friend who is literally named moose. of course that was | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aliyah-the-creator · 3 years ago

Text

This is my very first post, so I hope I do good! Please give me some feedback, I would love to hear it.

The Umbrella Academy Life Swap:

The Hargreaves switch lives instead of powers.

• Ben ran away at the age of 13 and got lost in the dimension inside his stomach, the Handler eventually finds him and recruits him to the Commission. He works as a super powered agent that saves his victims from his sadistic partners, Hazel and Cha-Cha. Ben doesn’t come back in a 13 year old body like Five, he’s the same age as his siblings, and Ben does know about the apocalypse and has the eye. And unlike Five, Ben actually tells his siblings about the apocalypse and how he was a super powered assassin that acted as the kidnapper and lookout. When the Hargreaves were 13, Ben had tried to talk to Five out of time traveling because logically, he may not know where he would end up, but Five wouldn’t listen to him and started arguing with him. The fighting got so loud that Vanya and Klaus eventually got pulled into the argument as well and it turned into a fistfight with all 4 of them. All of them ended up with scratches and bruises on their faces, a few chunks of their hair missing, and cleaning the mansion floors and ceilings from top to bottom and every single room without using their powers as a punishment for fighting by Reginald. At 2 am, Ben woke up after a nightmare and felt bad about getting Vanya and Klaus into trouble when they didn’t even started the fight in the first place and tried to go to their rooms to apologize, but he never did because the Horror became restless and angry that it didn’t get anything to eat and wanted to make Ben feel how trapped they felt when Reginald always had them kill people, so Ben’s tentacles grabbed him and opened the portal to their world, which was the apocalypse, and trapped him there for 10 years until the Handler came and recruited him and was never seen after that day again. Because of Ben’s disappearance, Vanya and Klaus blamed Five and his ambition for time travel since it was him who argued with Ben in the first place and Five had never forgotten it. Ben hopes that Klaus and Vanya would forgive Five in time. Ben read Klaus’s book about what happened to his family when he disappeared, he read about Luther running away to Dallas to forget about the Umbrella Academy, about Diego staying at the Academy to keep fighting crime, about Allison’s death and how she’s now mute, how Klaus is trying to get sober and stabling himself, how Five became a professor at a prestigious university and a vigilante, and how Vanya took a dark path into alcoholism.

• Five became a lowly-paid physics professor at community college after he was fired for punching a colleague at prestigious university and he’s also a vigilante, but his fiancé Delores doesn’t like it though. Five met Delores at a professor’s conference in Canada where she was presenting her findings on the science of gems and geodes since she’s a mineralogy professor (someone who teaches the study of rocks and crystals) and where he was discussing the possibility of time travel. Those two immediately hit it off and are now engaged, Five proposed to her by using different types of gems to spell it out. Five uses his powers of teleportation to be a mysterious assassin and hero.

• Klaus is a dancer at a local theater and he has somewhat control over his powers, but if the ghosts get too loud, he smokes cigarettes instead of weed so he wouldn’t be high at a recital. He became friends with Leonard Peabody aka Harold Jenkins when Klaus was 23 after his family abandoned him for writing an auto-biography about him having a power that traumatizes him and what the Umbrella Academy was really like behind the scenes, it’s called “The Ghosts Inside the Umbrella Academy: the life of Klaus Hargreaves”. Harold makes him more isolated by threatening to kill himself and haunting Klaus for the rest of his life if Klaus tries to leave him. Since Klaus never had someone ,besides Ben, care for him and give him a home and food since he was living at a homeless shelter when he met Leonard, Klaus thinks that this type of friendship is normal and doesn’t think twice about it. In his book, Klaus portrays his remaining siblings as people who knew about his drug abuse, but didn’t do anything about it; he portrayed Luther as a hotheaded daddy’s boy who was treated like the Golden child, Diego as a momma’s boy with daddy issues always trying to compete with Luther for everything, Allison as his favorite sister who was taken too soon, who’s death was the final straw that tore apart their family, and who acts as a silent ghost mother since she’s mute (no one believes him that he can see her though), he portrays Five as the cause of Ben’s disappearance and as a heartless gremlin who doesn’t care about his siblings enough to see that his siblings are hurting and have real problems of their own, he portrays Ben as his kind-hearted and favorite brother who was the glue that hold their family together and who’s disappearance drove a wedge between the family, and he portrays Vanya as his ordinary violin playing sister that desperately wanted to belong with their family in any way she could, but turned to alcohol when she learned that her dream of being in the Umbrella Academy was crushed by Reginald and who had the easy life of not being exploited by their father for her powers like he was. Vanya actually confronted him about her portrayal in the book and they said some things that they shouldn’t have, but they eventually forgave each other and Vanya moved in with him and Leonard a month later. Klaus didn’t mind that Vanya and Leonard were dating, but saw a striking difference between Vanya and Leonard’s relationship and Vanya and Sissy’s relationship when Vanya came back from the 60s. With Leonard, Vanya was walking on eggshells and isolated from her brothers and couldn’t be herself around him, but with Sissy, Klaus saw that Vanya was happier and could be herself around Sissy and loves Harlan like her own son. Klaus was the one to kill Leonard with his powers by having Allison choke him to death when he badly hurt Harlan with a gun and tried to drown Sissy.

• Allison dies at the age of 17 when her throat was slit by a serial killer on a mission and now acts like Klaus’s mother by always keeping him sober enough to conjure her and giving him healthy advice, but ultimately going along with almost every crazy idea Klaus has. Since she has a slit throat she can’t talk, but she does sign language instead and like Ben, she ages like Klaus, but still wears the same outfit she was buried in: a yellow and green striped dress with a blue flora printed jacket with red heels and a pair of black leggings. She HATES Leonard Peabody because he’s manipulating Klaus into isolation from their family and she tries to get Klaus out of their toxic friendship, but Klaus always denies Leonard’s abuse. She misses her siblings so much that she’s deeply hurt that she had ignored their problems for so long.

• Diego stayed at the Umbrella Academy because he didn’t know how to be anything else but a hero, he also didn’t want to Mom behind, so he began reading and writing code to free Grace from her restrictive rules that Reginald put on her, but after his accident that had him have scars all over his body and face to the point where he lost his left eye and his face is almost beyond recognition, Diego left the Academy when he realized that there was no point in staying and became a recluse in his good friend, Eudora’s house. Unlike Luther, Diego doesn’t have the monkey body because I just couldn’t see that type of body build on David Castaneda. Diego met Eudora at a local boxing gym, Eudora was impressed Diego’s fight skilled and was shocked to know that he was Diego “The Kraken” Hargreaves because Reginald told the whole world including their city and Luther, Klaus, Five, and Vanya that Diego died in an explosion a year ago when he had his accident. Diego ,of course, was pissed that his own father told everyone and his siblings that he was dead instead of saying that he survived the mission and was just scarred for the rest of his life, but he wasn’t surprised that Reginald did that to keep up his reputation. Him and Eudora immediately became fast friends and roommates at her house since Diego had nowhere to go when he left the Academy 6 months ago and was living at an run-down and moldy apartment. They actually tried dating at one point, but because of their conflicted personalities, they decided to just stay friends and roommates.

• 3 months after Allison’s funeral, Luther ran away to escape his father’s tight gripped and cold stare and the house that reminded him of his lovely yet dead Allison when he was 18 years old. He ended up in Dallas, Texas where he became a famous boxer named King Kong since he’s so huge and muscular, met and married a successful TV salesman named Elliott Gussman, and they adopted an African American baby girl who they named Claire Allison Gussman. Luther decided to take Elliott’s last name ,even though it was Luther who proposed to him, to cut his ties off from the Umbrella Academy and the man who turned 6 children into soldiers and who blamed the death of an innocent 17 year old girl that happened to be his adopted daughter on his 4 sons and 1 daughter instead of the person who killed her in the first place. Luther and Elliott had a happy marriage for 3 years until Klaus’s book came out that exposed the secrets of Luther’s past and made him into a hotheaded bully with daddy issues who followed Reginald around like a eager puppy trying to get a reward and a coward ran away from his problems instead of facing them. Elliott was furious at Luther because when Luther came to Dallas he lied about being from a mob family that did all types of shady businesses and that he ran away because his “family” couldn’t understand and accept him being bisexual instead of telling him truth about his abusive father who raised them to be child soldiers, how his brother Diego would always tried to be better than him to their father’s approval, how his brother Five was too smart for his own good, how he loved his sister Allison more than he should, how he tried to forget about Ben’s disappearance, how he ignored Klaus’s drug abuse, and how he denied Vanya’s problem with alcohol for so long. When Elliott read Klaus’s book about what Luther did and who he was, Elliott immediately started arguing with him about his true identity. Luther tried to deny it, but couldn’t because he loves Elliott too much to even hurt him in a way. Elliott actually threatened to separate from Luther when their arguments gotten too much, but he didn’t and instead drove Luther and him to see a marriage counselor so that they could actually talk to each other instead of just arguing. Luther and Elliott eventually made up, but because of the book, Luther is the one that’s more pissed about it and at Klaus for almost making Elliott lose his marriage to him. Btw, Claire is 6 years old in 2019 and was adopted as a baby in 2013 by the Gussman family when Luther was 24 and Elliott was 30, a year after Klaus’s book was published.

• Vanya was introduced to alcohol at 13 years old when Five and Klaus were drinking 2 cases of beer that Five stole, Klaus persuaded her to take a sip of his beer and she hasn’t stop drinking since. Besides the violin and her pills, alcohol was the thing that defined Vanya and her personality. Vanya thought that no one would care about what happened to her since she was so ordinary and isolated that she dumped all of her pills in the garbage disposal and drinks her problems away. With her new coping mechanism, Vanya’s personality changed from quiet and meek to sarcastic and drunk. Five and Vanya left the Academy for college together, but ended up separated by the time they were 20 because Vanya kept drinking her tutition away. By the age of 22, Vanya ended up being homeless because she got kicked out of her apartment for not paying her rent with the money she used to buy alcohol. She still plays her violin, but only for cash instead of at The Icarus Theatre. She also read Klaus’s book and was upset about her portrayal as his alcoholic sister who had an easy life of being ordinary and never going on missions because she doesn’t have a power that can’t be turned off willingly or that can kill somebody; she cried and drank her misery away for 3 weeks until she confronted Klaus about the book, they both admittedly said things that they regretted, but ended up apologizing to each other in the end. She also meets and dates Leonard like in the show and instead of Allison finding the truth about Leonard, it’s Five and Delores who both tried to convince Klaus and Vanya that Leonard is a snake, but they both denied it. Vanya ends up living with Klaus and Leonard when her and Klaus made up when she’s 23. In my first draft I made it Five and Delores that Vanya ended up rooming with, but I wanted to make Vanya and Klaus isolated further by Leonard manipulating both of them. When the house is attacked by Hazel and Cha-Cha, Vanya is the one that’s kidnapped and tortured by them for 2 days and is rescued by Eudora who arrives with back up this time, but is injured in the spine by Cha-Cha. Vanya takes the briefcase and time travels to October 12, 1963 where she ends up falling in love with a woman named Sissy Cooper, a widowed housewife who accidentally ran Vanya over with her car, and becoming a nanny/second mother to Sissy’s 5 year old autistic son named Harlan. Vanya stayed with them until 1966 when a neighbor reported their “unholy” relationship to the police, so to keep them safe Vanya used the briefcase to go back to 2019 with Sissy and Harlan.

—When Vanya gets back to 2019 with Sissy and Harlan, no one believes her story except for Klaus, who promises to her relationship with Sissy a secret from Leonard, and Ben, who was the only one that was worried about her whereabouts in the first place besides Klaus. Vanya tries to become sober for the sake of Harlan not being afraid of her when she gets drunk and for Sissy and her’s relationship since her late husband was an abusive alcoholic, instead of conjuring the one she loves’s ghost like Klaus did in the show. When Vanya was dating Leonard, he would constantly have her and Klaus practice their music and dance at 12am-6am to train them more and if one of them mess up, he’ll have them locked up in a dark and tiny closet with only one dimly lit lightbulb and they would have to balance on a stool on one leg for the duration of their training. Leonard would also take his anger out on Klaus and Vanya if he had a bad day at his shop, which would leave Klaus with bruises on his arms and a black eye and Vanya with scratches on her back and bruises on her neck. (Trigger Warning for those who can’t handle stories with domestic violence) When the 3 of them were 27, Leonard gotten pissed at how independent and successful Klaus and Vanya were getting in their lives by Klaus getting paid more from his dance recitals and Vanya going to AA meetings more to the point of being sober for 3 weeks that he took his frustrations about losing his control out on them by punching and slapping Klaus and choking and scratching Vanya, but thankfully a neighbor called the police after hearing their screams and Klaus and Vanya were taken to the hospital and Leonard was arrested, but unfortunately Klaus and Vanya bailed Leonard out due to dropping charges against him as an apologize.

Here are the things that I changed

• Klaus and Vanya both cause the apocalypse by combining their powers at Klaus’s dance recital with Vanya’s violin because Leonard isolated them from everyone, manipulated them to the point of denying the abuse he put them through, and because of him trying to kill Sissy and Harlan for taking Vanya away from him.

• Five and Delores tries to explain to Vanya and Klaus that Leonard only liked them to get revenge on the Umbrella Academy and it was him that kidnapped Sissy and Harlan to get them to come back to him, but Five gets stabbed in the stomach by Klaus’s new found telekinesis and Vanya makes Five and Delores’s apartment collapsed after knocking Delores out. When the apartment collapses, Allison , who’s coperal at the moment, immediately grabs both a bleeding Five and an unconscious Delores and saves them from death and takes them to the Academy to be treated by Grace. Delores unfortunately loses her right arm to a huge piece of shrapnel lodged into it that’s cutting the circulation.

• When Ben goes to the apocalypse for the first time, he finds Luther with the eye clutched in his hand, Diego wrapped in black bandages holding a woman with a long black ponytail (Eudora), Five in an Armani suit with his eyes opened, and a red headed woman in a polka dotted blouse and a black skirt holding one of Five’s hand (Delores). All of them are dead and Ben finds out that they’re his brothers by the faded black umbrella tattoo on Luther’s wrist when Ben was inspecting the bodies. The bodies that Ben couldn’t find were Allison, Vanya, and Klaus’s, but after learning about Allison’s death from Klaus’s book, Ben kept looking for Vanya and Klaus.

• Vanya gets her burst of powers when Harlan almost drown in the summer of ‘64 in the lake 10 miles away from the farm. Harlan was playing with a beach ball when it got away from him and he tried to get it while Vanya and Sissy were cuddling in the sand and a wave pulled him under the water. Sissy started crying and panicking when Vanya couldn’t get Harlan to the surface, but after a minute of silence she was shocked and relieved to see Vanya holding Harlan in her arms while she’s floating in the lake with glowing white eyes. As soon as they get to shore, Vanya gives Harlan cpr which transfers her newly found powers to him like in the canon.

• Diego doesn’t show himself to his siblings until episode 3 when Hazel and Cha-Cha attack the house because everyone thinks he’s dead and he’s a recluse. He finds out about the attack from Grace (mom) when she calls him from her bedroom phone since they talk every day so that he can know what’s going on and because of these calls, Diego knows about Ben being back, how the funeral went, and how much each of his siblings changed over the years.

• In episode 1, since the siblings’ lives are switched around, the way they found out that Reginald died is slightly different from canon. Luther finds out from the press badgering him after he won a fight, Diego finds out from Eudora when she comes home after work and turns on the Tv in a flash, Klaus finds out during rehearsal on the radio that him and his group are listening to to practice the recital while Allison is dancing in the shadows behind him when the news suddenly comes on, Five finds out from his phone on social media when one of his students sent him the news link after Five teleports to his apartment after saving a 12 year old boy from being abducted by a creep and almost killing said creep by beating him senseless, and Vanya finds out from a bar Tv when she and Leonard are on a date. She immediately calls Klaus who was immediately going to call her to tell her the same thing when he was done rehearsals.

• Just to clarify, since Vanya spent 3 years with Sissy and Harlan in Dallas from 1963-1966, she is 33 years old and Harlan is 8 years old because he was 5 when he and his mom met Vanya. Even though Vanya spent 3 years in the ‘60s, she was only gone for 2 days with Klaus, Five, Delores, Ben, and Leonard searching for her.

• When the Hargreeves all come back for the funeral, the introduction of them to each other are very different. Diego doesn’t show up to the funeral to keep up the reputation of him being dead. Vanya and Klaus show up together, but immediately split up when Vanya goes straight to the bar making drinks for her and her brothers (mostly for her though) and Klaus goes to his old room to reminisce about his past. Five checks their father’s room and office for evidence of something other than a heart attack, he is the one that thinks that Reginald was murdered by someone, and he also greets Vanya and Klaus with Delores who went with him to meet his family. Luther is trying to get through the funeral as possible by almost avoiding his siblings, but that backfires when Five calls a family meeting to talk about their father’s death and Luther sees a tipsy Vanya holding a mix of vodka and rum, Klaus talking to Delores who is laughing at a funny story Klaus is telling, and Five lecturing the remaining siblings on how their father might’ve been murdered.

• Eudora is more present in the show since she survives the gunshot wound in her spine by Cha-Cha, but she ends up being paralyzed from the waist down in a wheelchair. She helps Five with discovering how Reginald actually died and Diego with stepping out into the world and seeing his family for the first time in years. Like in canon, she is the first one to find Vanya at the motel after finding the message that Hazel and Cha-Cha left on the van when they burned down the prosthetic factory after they got drunk off of Vanya’s “special lemonade” which is just lemonade mixed with wine and vodka. Unlike in the show, Delores and Ben go with Eudora as back up in case something goes wrong and it does end up going wrong with Cha-Cha and Eudora having a shoot out with each other in the parking lot that ultimately ends up Eudora becoming paralyzed by Cha-Cha’s bullet ricocheting off a lamppost and lodging into Eudora’s spine with her laser gunand Ben wrestling with his former partner Hazel in the motel room while Vanya is escaping through the vent with the briefcase in her arms and Delores in tow.

Ben breaks Hazel’s wrist and almost beats him to a bloody pulp for kidnapping Vanya, but he stops when he hears Eudora’s screams from outside and sees her on the ground behind her car and he immediately drives her to the hospital while Hazel and Cha-Cha get away before the police show up. Delores and Vanya get on a nearby bus to escape the chaos and they talk about what’s going on in their lives and Delores talks about how Leonard treats Klaus when they’re alone, but Vanya denies any abuse and opens the briefcase. The last thing Vanya hears is Delores screaming.

• The episode “The Day that Wasn’t” doesn’t exist in my AU and is instead replaced with an episode called “Welcome to the 60’s” where Five interrogates Sissy and Harlan about the past while working on the beat up briefcase to learn more about how to time travel. Eudora and Diego talk about how their long time friendship has become into a sibling relationship and about how Diego can reconnect with his siblings again. Luther and Delores discuss how they both want a normal and ordinary life with their husband and fiancé respectively, but fail to see that things can never go back to way they were. Ben goes off on his own to find the truth about Leonard Peabody, but finds himself at Griddy’s where he sees Hazel kissing Agnes and talks to them about his problems. Agnes gives Ben advice about how he can reconcile with his family by actually giving them time to process him being a time traveling assassin and him telling Five to not feel guilty about causing a rift between him and Vanya and Klaus because it wasn’t Five’s fault that Ben “ran away”.

I’ll continue the rest of the story when I have the time. Right now I just want to post this.

144 notes · View notes

spine-buster · 4 years ago

Text

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series! Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon! This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

* * * * *

Brock and Grace were having fun. Actual, genuine, real fun. Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time. They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants. They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall. They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym. They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing. Grace and Svea got closer – much closer. Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks. Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together. They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun. Life was fun.

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him. It was bigger than his jaw could open. Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him. “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea. “What! Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock. “Just bite the thing, Brock. Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant. “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster. “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know. Can I get back to you?”

“Of course! Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said. “You really do have the world at your fingertips. Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders. “It’s a blessing and a curse. I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me. It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now. Most of the time they don’t even truly care. And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life. She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter. She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no. No no no – you don’t need to apologize. I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts. “I know how fortunate I am, believe me. I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate. But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you. Most people don’t know what that’s like. And like, thank God they don’t. But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant. But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin. “How’s your dad doing?” “Are the new round of meds working?” “Is he having more trouble getting up now?” “What are the doctors saying?” “How’s his memory?” “How’s the swallowing?” “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair. “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at. I wasn’t the best in school. I just didn’t get things the way other kids did. And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity. I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it. That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet. Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart. And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone. “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way. I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded. She completely understood. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said. “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically. “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine. From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap. “I actually come here with the boys sometimes. The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it? James knows the head chef,” she said. “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu. “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks. We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu. It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger. It was the size of his eyeball. “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation. “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is. Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked. Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna. She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy. There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service. It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it. Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything. So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably. To his credit, Brock did too. It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music. Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were. This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.

For at least a night, Grace could forget. She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce. She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated. She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally. She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s. For one night, everything was perfect. Everything was fun. Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face. He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth. He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up. “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face. “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat. “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s. Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against. Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding. He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it. God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!! During sex?! Really?! Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser! Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face. The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him. It was miraculous. “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

191 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Would love to see a wired autocomplete interview with coops! 🥰

Anon, did you read my mind? These two have such chaotic energy when they’re given an outlet and it was a true pleasure to write it. Dorcas is exhausted. Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

“Wait, I want to pull the tab,” Remus said, tugging on the edge of the cardboard lightly as Sirius tried to hold it out of his reach without falling off his chair.

“I get to read it out loud for you and then we switch!” Sirius protested, smacking him gently on the head with it. The resulting bonk noise made them both break down laughing.

“You guys know we’re rolling, right?” Dorcas asked as she gathered a stack of cards in her lap, looking highly amused.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She turned to the camera with a bright smile. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, hockey fans! I’m Dorcas Meadowes and I’m here today with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to answer some of the internet’s most pressing questions. How are you two feeling?”

“Terrified,” Sirius said.

“The internet is like the Twilight Zone,” Remus agreed. “Who goes first?”

“Sirius, you’ve got a card already. Take it away.”

He cleared his throat and grabbed the edge of the first pull tab, ripping it off slowly. “That is so satisfying, woah. How tall is Remus Lupin?”

“I am five foot eleven and a half.”

“That half inch comes from your sneakers and you know it.”

“It does not!”

Sirius just smiled and removed the next paper slip. “What language does Remus Lupin speak?”

“I speak English and a little bit of French. Tried to learn Spanish in high school, but failed miserably.”

“I love the wording on this one,” Sirius said as he turned the board toward the camera. “Remus Lupin Green Bay Packers.”

“Dammit, now everyone knows my full name,” Remus sighed. “Uh, the Packers are cool.”

“I think people were wondering if you ever played on the team,” Dorcas said.

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like a football player to you?”

“Next question!” Sirius ripped the tab off and took a good section of the paper above with it. There was a beat of stunned silence. “I am…so sorry.”

Behind the camera, Marlene burst out laughing, along with most of the camera crew. “It’s fine, keep reading.”

“Okay, um…” Sirius squinted at the partially torn-off question. “Remus Lupin name meaning.”

Remus groaned. “I hate this question. Yes, it does mean Wolf Wolf. Yes, my dad’s name also means Wolf Wolf. Yes, my mother’s maiden name is Howell. I’m aware of the endless puns.”

“Don’t you mean a-were?” Sirius asked as a slow grin spread across his face. Remus grabbed the card and bonked him over the head with it.

“Remus, your turn.” Dorcas handed him a poster board and took the blank one.

“I’m going to be careful with this one, unlike somebody,” he teased, kissing Sirius on the cheek. “Is Sirius Black…related to Pascal Dumais?”

“In all the ways that matter, yes.”

Remus grinned when he read the next one. “Is Sirius Black missing a tooth?”

“No!” Sirius gave the camera an offended look. “I have all my teeth, thank you very much.”

“Is Sirius Black mean?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Reporters don’t like you very much.”

“The feeling is mutual. I love the fans though, most of them are so sweet.”

“Oh, I like this one. Is Sirius Black married?” Remus rested his chin on the top of the card and batted his eyelashes, making Sirius laugh.

“Almost! Ask me again in July.” Remus set the card on the floor and Dorcas passed Sirius a new one. “Does Remus Lupin wear glasses?”

“Nope.”

“Does Remus Lupin—I have never said your name so many times in one sitting, my god—does Remus Lupin have siblings?”

“Yup.”

“Does Remus Lupin—”

“Can you elaborate?” Dorcas asked with a laugh. “How many siblings? Names? Ages?”

Remus turned to the camera. “I have one brother named Julian and he’s ten years old. He likes piggyback rides, ice cream, and hockey.”

“Much better. Take it away, Cap.”

“Does Remus Lupin have allergies?”

Remus frowned in confusion. “Why do people want to know that? Uh, yeah, I’m allergic to some pollens. Spring is hell.”

“How many of these do we have?” Sirius asked as he tossed the board over his shoulder and crossed his legs.

“Quite a few! Loops, you’re up.”

“Where is Sirius Black from?”

“Canada.”

“Where does Sirius Black live?”

“The Lions ice rink. I set up a tent in the middle of the goal posts every night so that I’m never late to practice.”

“Sirius Black gay.”

Sirius paused. “I think we’re missing a couple words in there.”

“That’s literally all it says,” Remus laughed, moving it to show him. “Sirius Black gay. I don’t know, honey, Sirius Black gay?”

“Sirius Black very gay,” he confirmed. “Sirius Black thinks people need to have better grammar.”

“Is Sirius Black’s hair naturally curly?”

“No, I use a curling iron every morning to do each individual curl,” he said. “It takes me seven hours and thirteen minutes, and I use a full can of hairspray.”

Remus scooted over so Dorcas could hand him a new card. “He keeps a stopwatch and tries to beat his personal record every time.”

Sirius pulled the first tab away and immediately started laughing too hard to speak.

“What does it say? You can’t just leave me hanging!” Sirius turned the board around and Remus leaned down to read it. “Is Remus Lupin hockey? Yes. I am the entire sport of hockey condensed into one being. I’m coming for basketball next. Thanks for asking!”

It took a few seconds for Sirius to get his breath back. “What is Remus Lupin—”

“I thought we just answered that.”

“—what is Remus Lupin zodiac sign?”

Remus paused. “Is that the thing Pots was talking about the other day? With the quiz?”

“That was love languages.”

“Your zodiac sign depends on your birthday,” Marlene called. “When were you born?”

“March 10th.”

“You’re a Pisces.”

“I’m a Pisces!” he said brightly to the camera. “No idea what that means, but it sounds cool.”

“It means you’re two fish.” She laughed as Remus sucked his cheeks in for a fish face. “Very nice.”

“Thank you.”

Sirius was especially careful as he pulled the paper slip off the next question. “What is Remus Lupin first job?”

“The grammar of these questions is killing me. Um, I worked in the university bookstore during college.”

“On the list of ‘things that don’t surprise anyone’,” Dorcas joked.

“Did Remus Lupin go to college?”

Remus gave the camera a look. “First of all, I have a medical degree. Second of all, did people completely forget about the whole ‘about to be drafted right out of college’ thing? It was a grand total of four years ago! Google it!”

“That’s what they did,” Sirius pointed out, gesturing to the board.

“True.”

“Last one for this card: how old is Remus Lupin?”

Remus thought for a moment. “Y’know, I kind of lost track after the first few centuries. My turn…what is Sirius Black real name?”

Sirius glanced at the camera. “It’s Sirius Black? Is this a trick question?”

“There are people out there who think that’s a fake name,” Dorcas said.

“Um, okay. Yeah, my real name is Sirius Black, my brother is Regulus, my dad is Orion, and I have cousins named Andromeda and Bellatrix.”

“What’s your uncle’s name again?” Remus asked.

“Which one? Cygnus? Phineas Nigellus? Arcturus?” At Dorcas’ surprised look, he laughed. “Oh, I could go all day long with this. That’s the tea on old French families with weird-ass naming traditions.”

“This next one is similar: Sirius Black middle name?”

“Orion.”

“Fun fact: the first time I saw your full name, Moody had written it and I thought it said ‘onion’.” Remus laughed as Sirius’ jaw fell open. “Those three seconds were a highlight of my life. Alright, what’s next…what color are Sirius Black’s eyes?”

“Blue.”

Remus shook his head. “They’re gray, almost silver.”

“Basically blue.”

“There’s nothing basic about you, babe.” Remus slid the board onto the floor and passed Sirius a new one. “Hit me with your best shot.”

“Is Remus Lupin Canadian?”

“I wish.”

“Is Remus Lupin left-handed?”

“No, but a lot of people seem to think that I am.”

“Is—” Sirius cut off with a snort. “Is Remus Lupin scrappy?”

“Are you fucking with me?” Remus asked, leaning over. “Is that actually what it says?”

“Yep.”

“Scrappy? Really?” He shook his head, lost for words. “I mean, I guess. Nobody’s ever called me scrappy before.”

“I don’t like this last one. How much is Remus Lupin worth?” Sirius wrapped an arm around his shoulders and kissed his temple. “You’re priceless.”

“I’m worth at least half a PB & J, but only if you use the good peanut butter. If you use the shitty Skippy stuff, hand over the whole sandwich. My turn! Does Sirius Black have piercings?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Does Sirius Black have an Instagram?”

“I do. Sblack12, if you want to see pictures of my friends’ kids and this cutie.”

“Is Sirius Black Australian?”

“Fuck off. I’m French Canadian, how the hell did anyone think I was Australian?”

“Sirius Black birthday.”

“I have one.”

“What is it?” Marlene asked. “I’ll tell you your zodiac sign.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “November 3rd.”

“Scorpio bitch.”

“Hey!”

“On the bright side, Scorpios and Pisces are super compatible.”

“What a relief, I was really banking on our astrology compatibility,” Remus said drily.

Dorcas handed Sirius a fresh board. “First up: can Remus Lupin sing?”

“Eh.”

“The correct answer is yes. What is Remus Lupin like in real life?”

“I’m horrible. I kick every puppy I see and carry one of those sticky hands from arcades to steal candy from children.” A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth and Sirius’ cheeks turned pink from suppressing his laughter. “Like Spiderman, but evil.”

“What happened to Remus Lupin after college?”

“What didn’t happen to Remus Lupin after college?” he laughed, leaning back in his seat. “These past couple years have been bonkers fucking yonkers. I became a PT, got a secret boyfriend, and now I’m engaged and an NHL player. There were, like, three seasons of character development squished into eighteen months.”

“Alright, last one. Why Remus Lupin kissed Sirius Black?”

“Because he’s hot and nice. Also, because he’s my fiancé.”

“Is that the criteria for kisses?” Sirius asked. “I just have to be hot and nice?”

“Pretty much. You’ve got both boxes permanently checked.”

“Final card,” Dorcas warned as she handed it to him. “Make it count.”

Remus cleared his throat. “How does Sirius Black work out?”

“I rollerskate and hula hoop for six hours a day simultaneously.”

“How old is Sirius Black?”

“Ageless.”

“How did Sirius Black meet Remus Lupin?”

“Fun story, actually. You know the movie Ocean’s Eleven?”

“Are Sirius Black and James Potter—”

“Dating.”

“—still friends.”

“Damn, I thought I had that one.” He did a double take. “Still friends? What happened? I saw him an hour ago, tops.”

“You might have to google it,” Remus suggested as he slid the board across the floor. “That’s it!”

“Way to go, guys,” Dorcas laughed. “I know literally nothing new about you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius said as the two high-fived. “We were completely honest the whole time.”

She faced the camera with a poorly-hidden smile. “Thanks for joining us today, Lions, and remember to like and subscribe for more content!”

242 notes · View notes

broadstbroskis · 4 years ago

Text

thanksgiving | jeff skinner

a/n: it’s here!!! this is like 4k that i threw together in like a week after i took it as a personal challenge from @blueskrugs after i asked why we don’t write more thanksgiving fics. a huge shoutout to her and @danglesnipecelly, for inspiration and cheering me on for this, as well as literally anyone else who’s cheered me on to finish thing, you’re all the real mvps and i love you all 💚

-----

Jeff shrugs, and from across the table filled with pizza, beer, and a bunch of other things that are most definitely not on his approved list of foods, you stare at him.

“I dunno. I don’t really have plans, I guess? Probably just sit at home, relax a little?” He says. Your jaw drops. He has...he has what now? “You're going to your parent’s right?” You nod slowly, still stuck on the fact that he’s going to sit at home and do nothing on Thanksgiving, the best of all holidays. Not spend the day with some teammates, not make a quick trip to his family, nothing. “That’ll be fun!” Jeff grins, dimples popping. “What are you-”

“You’re doing nothing?” You get out finally, the words coming back to you.

Jeff’s smile falters, but only slightly, and he nods. “Yeah? I mean, there’s no practice, no games. I’ll just…” He trails off for a second and then shrugs. “Rest.”

“You’re not going to go, like, visit your parents? They’re right across the border!”

“It’s a Thursday.” Jeff says patiently and you abruptly remember that his Canadian-ness is the whole point of this conversation.

“Thanksgiving is the best holiday! You can’t sit at home alone on it; I forbid it!” Jeff’s smile grows again as he laughs and you try and fight your own grin as you shove at his shoulders, to no avail. “Come home with me!”

“What?” He laughs again, but this time, it’s more like disbelief.

But the idea is already growing in your mind. “Come home with me! You know my parents love you, they won’t mind at all!”

“I can’t just invite myself to your Thanksgiving!” Jeff protests.

You wave him off. “You’re not, I’m inviting you! Come on, we’d love to have you!” He still looks hesitant, so you add, “Our Thanksgiving is huge anyway; one extra mouth to feed isn’t going to put anyone out, Jeff.”

“Alright.” He caves, and you grin, pulling your phone close to you to text your mom and let her know. “But ask your mom, okay? Like, really ask her, don’t just, like, tell her I’m coming.”

“Too late!” You say cheerfully, showing him the text you’d sent in your family group chat, telling them you were bringing Jeff with you next week. Your mom’s already responded with a string of happy face emojis and your younger sister with a How I Met Your Mother gif about Canadian Thanksgiving. “Be prepared for a lot of Canada jokes!”

“Is that supposed to be different than any other time I see your family?’ Jeff deadpans, but you’re pretty sure he looks like, at least 50% more relaxed, so you count this as a win and ignore him completely, already mentally planning for the best holiday of the year.

-----

The drive back home to your parents takes about an hour longer than you’d like, stuck in the same godawful traffic as everyone else trying to leave Buffalo on Wednesday so that they can get back home in time to go out that night.

When Jeff finally pulls his car up in front of your childhood home, you can already see that it’s bustling with activity, getting ready for tomorrow. Most of your siblings have already arrived- only your older brother, with his wife and daughters will come in tomorrow, with the rest of your family- but your younger brother and sister have already come home, a fact that’s even more evident when you and Jeff walk in the front door and immediately trip over three pairs of sneakers.

“Liam!” You cry, grabbing onto Jeff so you don’t fall. “Motherfucker, move your shoes!”

Your brother pops his head out of the living room, AirPods in his ears. “I’m on a call!” And just as you're marveling at the fact that your brother is a real person with a real job taking real work calls, said real person with a real job spots Jeff and lights up. “Jeff! Bro! What’s up, man?”

“I thought you were on a call.” You snap at him.

“I’m on mute.” Liam slaps his palm against Jeff’s pulling him in for a ridiculous handshake-bro hug combo, before he finally comes over and lifts you off the floor. “Yo!”

“Yo!” You repeat, honestly unable to believe you’re related to this kid. If the two of you didn’t look exactly alike, you’d probably think he was adopted. “You still coming out tonight?”

“Hell yeah, this is my last call. I’m ready to go.”

You snicker, looking down at his sweatpants and dress shirt combo- he must have taken a video call at some point today. “Yeah, okay, bud.”

He ruffles your hair, in that annoying way he’s been able to do ever since he grew taller than you. “Don’t you worry, I will be.”

You laugh, ducking under his arm, to let him get back to it. You’ve got no doubts about that. Liam’s always ready to party. “Finish your call so we can start pregaming.”

He grins, like you knew he would. “Now we’re talking.” And then he ducks back into your dad’s office.

Jeff is laughing when you look back at him and you give him a look. “What?”

“Nothing, just forgot how the two of you were when you got going.”

“Yup, and you’re stuck with us for next two days!” You grin.

Jeff rolls his eyes at you, but he’s still smiling when he follows you to the kitchen, in search of your mom. She’s at the counter, rolling dough for biscuits, her only other contribution to the annual Thanksgiving dinner that she hosts, besides the turkey; a holiday that she’d taken over hosting once it had become too much for your grandmother to handle, but only on the caveat that everyone began contributing food toward the meal. It’s been a potluck style holiday ever since.

She’s ultra-focused, the volume on her favorite playlist high (this wild mix of 80’s pop and today’s hits that’s actually kind of a banger), so you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her. “Hi!”

“Jesus!” Your mom jumps, elbowing you in the process, but you’re laughing too hard to care. “Don’t do that!”

“Just excited to see you!” You beam at her, squeezing her once more, before pulling away. “Where do you want the pie?” Jeff lifts the pie you’d made yesterday, showing your mom.

Your mom purses her lips, studying the kitchen around her. “Leave it on the counter for now; I’ll have your dad clear some space in the garage.” She gestures with her elbow. “Hi Jeff!”

“Hi!” Jeff pulls out his best smile, a real one, dimples super popped. “Thank you for having me-”

Your mom cuts him off before he can finish, like you knew she would. “Oh, we’re so happy you could make it! You’re welcome anytime, Jeff!” She assures him.

“Is the guest room ready?” You ask. “We’ll throw our stuff upstairs before Dad sees it at the bottom of the steps and has a fit.”

Your mom fights back a laugh at that- a statement that everyone in your family knows all too well-but then looks almost apologetic as she finishes, “It is, but we gave it to Katie.”

“Oh, Katie’s here too?” Your sister’s roommate at college was, at this point, basically another sister to you. She hardly went home for breaks within the semesters, usually came up for at least a month during the summer, and more often than not came home with Abby when she was back for anything. The “guest room” really was more like Katie’s room at this point.

“Where else would she be?” Abby appears, right on cue, with Katie right behind her, practically matching in leggings and oversized sorority shirts. “It’s Thanksgiving; she’s ready to rage tonight.”

You actually can’t wait for the babies to be hungover tomorrow-both were 21 for their first Thanksgiving Eve and you know they’re going to be in a super rough spot tomorrow-but you keep that thought to yourself.

“It didn’t even occur to me!” Your mom says apologetically. “I just gave Katie her usual room.”

“No, it’s cool. Jeff and I can share. He doesn’t mind, right?” But you barely even wait for his shrug and nod in agreement. It’s not like you haven’t before, when you’re either too lazy or too drunk to go home. You’re both adults, it’s no big. “I’ve shared a bed with you before; I’ll spare Katie the bruised shins.” You tease your sister.

Katie cracks up as Abby sputters out how rude you are. “It’s a hazard!” Katie agrees, dodging the swat your sister sends towards her. It sets the two of them off, which you take as your cue to grab Jeff’s hand and drag him (and your stuff) up to your room.

Of course, usually when you’re sharing a bed with Jeff, it’s a king sized bed, or at least a queen- definitely not the double that your parents just shoved in your old room to replace the queen bed that had been in there until you moved out and took your furniture with you. You hadn’t realized how small it was though, not until today, until the idea of actually having to share it with someone, with Jeff, who might not be a giant, but isn’t tiny. “Sorry.” You apologize, almost unsure of what you’re saying.

Jeff shrugs. “Well, at least you don’t kick.” He smiles, as then it’s like everything’s back to normal, that awkward feeling that was growing over you gone as quickly as it came.

“She’s a bruiser, don’t let her tell you otherwise.” You throw your bag down, rifling through it for the sweater you were planning to wear tomorrow, to hang it up so it isn’t too wrinkled.

Jeff laughs. “I’ll take your word for it.” He’s holding up his shirt, a button down and a tie. “Where can I hang this?”

“You can’t wear that!”

He frowns, likely at the vehemence you’d just spoken that with. “Uhh, why not?”

“You’ll get roasted.” Seriously, you’d told him it wasn’t a dressy affair. God, what part of not dressy does he think requires a tie? “Don’t you have, like, a sweater?”

“I mean, yeah, but-”

“Sweater and jeans, that’s fine.”

Jeff gives you a look. “That doesn’t seem-”

“Sweater. And jeans.” You repeat. He’ll thank you tomorrow, when your uncle doesn’t ask him when tea is. When your cousin doesn’t talk to him only in a fake British accent for the entire night.

Jeff hands over a sweater, a soft thing you’ve seen him wear on many occasions, and you smile your thanks at him, hanging it up next to yours. “Meet your standards?” He asks; you think he’s aiming for teasing but he kind of misses the mark, sounding a little more nervous than joking.

“Perfect.” He smiles back at you and you laugh. “Come on, you dork. Let’s go see what’s for dinner tonight.”

-----

“Don’t wake me up when you come in tonight!” Your dad calls, as he drops the five of you off at Mel’s, the bar for Thanksgiving Eve. Your friends are already at the bar, you’re anticipating a high school reunion for sure, and you’ve warned Jeff of this, even though he assured you that he could handle it, and he was just excited for a nice, chill night.

You’d actually laughed out loud at that. Oh Jeffrey.

“Pshh.” Liam waves your dad off. “I haven’t done that since I was like 16 and still having to sneak out.”

Your dad gives him a look. “I was talking to your sister.” He looks over at Abby, who ignores him completely, in favor of taking a SnapChat with Katie, and he sighs resolutely. You all absolutely know she isn’t listening to a word he says. ��Have fun, be safe. Uber home.”

Liam salutes him. “Will do.”

Inside the bar, the night starts exactly as you and Liam have started your last few Thanksgiving Eve’s-with a round of shots at the bar as you’re ordering drinks, before splitting off to find your respective friends to start the evening.

Jeff fits in with your friends fantastically, laughing and joking around with them like he’s known them forever, even though you’re sure the only one he’s met is your oldest friend, Ashley. But he greets Ashley and her husband, Brian, like old friends, and quickly joins conversations with all your other friends, and soon hours have passed before your brother is sliding up behind you. “Heads up.” Liam mutters as he passes. “Douche at 3 o’clock.”

You tense as it takes everything in you not to turn and look over. “Hey.” Jeff nudges you, concern clear in his eyes as he looks at you, and you’re not sure what he pulled himself away from, but you must look pretty bad. “You okay?”

You nod, kinda spacily, but leaning in closer to him, and he takes the cue to curl in toward you- you’re not really interested in shouting to the entire bar and you’re really not interested in drawing attention to yourself. “Yeah, just- my ex is over there.”

Jeff purses his lips for a minute and then schools his face back to neutral. “I take it things didn’t end well.”

“No.” You say, thinking of the demise of your relationship with Dylan. “It did not.”

You hadn’t even realized that Jeff grabbed your hand until he’s squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You shake your head. “It was...definitely for the best.” It might have taken you a while to see that, but you can now, even if the rare instances you still see Dylan sometimes rattles you. “I thought I was going to marry him, at one point, but I’m so much happier here now.”

Jeff smiles. “Good.”

You squeeze his hand once more, a thanks for his comfort and care, before both of you rejoin the conversation, and you forget about Dylan entirely for the next hour, until you physically run into him coming back from the bar with another round of drinks for you and Jeff.

“Hey!” Dylan beams at you, goes right in for a cheek kiss, like you’re still that familiar, and once again you stiffen up.

“Hi.” You return politely, ready to sidestep around him and return to Jeff and your friends.

“No, wait.” Dylan steps with you, blocking your path. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Let’s catch up a minute, what’s new?”

“No offense, Dylan, but I’m not really looking to catch up with you.” You say flatly.

He opens his mouth to respond, but before he can another voice cuts in. “Everything okay here?” Jeff asks politely, stepping very purposefully next to you, and Dylan’s eyes immediately fly over to him.

“Mhmm,” You nod. “Was just on my way back to you.”

“Good.” Jeff says, in a tone far more harsh than you usually hear him take. “Let’s get back.” He positions himself again, clearing a space for you to easily slip past Dylan, and then steps closely behind you, catching up quickly.

“Thanks.” You lean against him, gently, not looking to spill either of your drinks, but Jeff solves that problem by taking his.

“Any time.” Jeff says softly and you don’t have much else to say on the matter so you just nudge him once more in thanks and walk back toward your friends with him at your side.

-----

When you wake up the next morning, you’re warm and comfortable and only a little hungover, which you count as a huge success. There’s not too much noise going on downstairs yet, which means you definitely have some more time to sleep, so you curl back into your pillow, humming contently when it pulls you in closer.

And then your eyes pop open abruptly, because pillows don’t do that.

Except they do when they look like Jeff Skinner, who looks just as soft and warm and comfortable as you feel right now, still sleeping judging by the evenness of his breath.

It’s just...it’s a really nice way to wake up, with Jeff’s kind-of smiling face, looking super soft and cozy as he breathes just on the wrong side of too loud, but not so loudly that it drives you nuts.

It’s a little too early to unpack that, and your hangover might not be that bad but it’s definitely bad enough that you’re not ready to think on that, so you close your eyes and let yourself curl into Jeff and fall back asleep.

-----

When you do finally get out of bed, Thanksgiving morning is its usual chaos, running around with last minute errands, cleaning, and helping your mom in the kitchen. The last to shower for the day, by the time you arrive downstairs, the Lions vs. Bears game is well underway, your notoriously early grandparents have already arrived, and your grandmother is already asking your mom where that one turkey decoration she bought her one year is.

You bypass the kitchen entirely and move toward the living room, where you find your dad, grandfather, Jeff, and siblings all gathered, just as you’d expected. You slide down on the floor next to Jeff, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before more of your family arrives and you’re offering your set up anyway, and wait for the next round of chaos to begin.

It doesn’t take long. Your aunts, uncles, and cousins start pouring in and then it’s just introduction after introduction, as you wrap up showing off Jeff to one group just as the next arrives. You are absolutely confident he has no idea who anyone is, but it’s fine, because he’s still laughing and joking around with all your uncles and cousins that have joined you in watching football.

The kitchen is its own brand of chaos, when you make a quick stop in on your back from a beer run, but chaos has never stopped your aunt before and it certainly isn’t today. “Oh my god!” She exclaims, after you’ve pressed a smacking kiss to the top of your grandmom’s head. “That boy!”

“What boy?” You ask, like an idiot, which is immediately clear from the looks you get from everyone in the kitchen, even your usually oblivious uncle, who’s doing...something...with the ham they’d brought. “Who, Jeff?”

“Yes.” Another aunt stresses. “He’s cute!”

You shrug. “Yeah, I mean-”

But your grandmom cuts you off this time. “And so friendly! Just the nicest boy! Oh, you couldn’t have found anyone better!” She exclaims.

“Well, I haven’t.” You announce, watching all of their faces fall. “So sorry to burst that bubble.”

“Why?” One of your older cousins frowns. “Girl. Get on that. You are not going to do better than that boy in there.”

“I truly don’t know if that was meant to be a dig at me or you all think that highly of Jeff already, but regardless. We are just friends.” Now everyone in the kitchen is giving you a look. You gather the beers and retreat, distributing them as you return to your spot on the floor near Jeff.

He’s giving you a look as you pass him his, but whatever’s on your face must not be too bad, because he just thanks you as you pass him the bottle, and you nod in return as you try to find the same comfortable spot as before, leaning against his thigh.

-----

Your dad catches you a bit later, as he’s coming back with beers this time and you’re coming out of the bathroom, and he nudges you carefully as you take a few bottles from his hand. “So Jeff?”

You groan. The tone of that statement was far too loaded. “Jesus, you too?”

Your dad laughs. “Who else?”

“Everyone.”

“Well maybe that should be your hint.” Your dad says teasingly, but also not? There’s definitely some seriousness to this. “That Jeff’s pretty perfect for you.”

You stare at him. “You’ve met Jeff, like, a hundred times. Why’s this coming out now?”

“I always thought you were my smart kid and that you’d figure it out yourself.” He muses. “Now I realize you’re only book-smart and you’d never figure this out on your own.” And then he leaves you there in the hallway, with your jaw dropped and too many thoughts, as he continues on, laughing at you.

-----

When the call to come serve yourselves echoes into the room, the usual mad scramble follows immediately. It’s only as you’re getting into line behind your brother that you realize that Jeff’s not with you anymore, and you abandon the long line waiting for food, in favor of seeking out Jeff.

You find Jeff upstairs, in your room, just kind of lounging on your bed, and you lean against the doorway. “Hey! Food’s ready.”

“Yeah.” Jeff nods, the smile he sends you back in return far too tight and forced to be genuine. “Be right down.”

But he doesn’t move, so you step in and climb into your bed next to him. “What’s wrong?”

Jeff laughs; it’s kind of hollow and doesn’t sound anything like his usual loud laugh or his giggles that you love. “What- nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“Jeff.” You say softly. “Come on.”

He sighs. “Why did you bring me here?”

That...was not at all what you expected. “What?”

“Why did you bring me here?” He repeats. “Why did you bring me home, to your family? I thought, maybe, finally…” He trails off for a minute. “Except, there’s like ten other randos here too!” He laughs again, that hollow thing that you’re already hating. “Everybody in this family just brings people home, and that’s awesome, okay? Please don’t ever change that about yourself. I just-I thought we had something special, is all.” He says, sounding almost sad? Melancholy?

“You are special.” You hate this. Jeff should never be sad; he should always be happy and smiling and joking. This is worse than seeing him after losses, worse than seeing him at low points in the season, that one game when he realizes that shit’s done and they’re just playing to keep playing now, that playoffs won’t be coming this year, again. “Jeff, you’re-”

“I’m in love with you.” Jeff says and it’s so straight-up, matter-of-fact, like it’s never not been a fact for him. “And I’m sorry I’ve fucked things up here for tonight and made this so awkward. I just- being here with you and your family just made me want you that much more.”

There’s so so so much you want to say to Jeff, but it’s like time is frozen. You can’t speak, can’t move, can’t do anything except look at him in awe, until he starts to move off your bed, when you reach for him, finally, resting your hand on his thigh, relieved when he looks back at you. “My dad thinks I’m an idiot.” You blurt out and Jeff just gives you a look. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t what I wanted to say.” You take a deep breath, trying to gather the jumble of thoughts in your head. “Or at least, not the only thing. He thinks I’m an idiot because he thinks you’re perfect for me and I didn’t see it. My whole family thinks you’re perfect- cute and friendly and nice- and god, Jeff, you are! You’re all those things!” He’s still watching you, with like, barely the smallest hint of a smile on his face. “I just-didn’t realize you were perfect for me until we came here.”

Now he’s full on beaming, dimples showing, and you don’t even realize that you’re returning the grin until his hand comes up to your face, thumbing at the corner of your lip. “I’m sorry I’m a dumbass.” You finish lamely, too busy smiling at Jeff. “Please kiss me so we can make sure we get biscuits.”

Jeff hums. “I don’t know if I can kiss you now and just...stop.”

“Well I’m not going down to eat until you do.” You say stubbornly. “And you’ve been hyping up those biscuits since breakfast.”

“Fair enough.” Jeff laughs and then you’re smiling into the best first kiss you’ve ever had, tangling your hands into his hair and wondering if you may actually end up missing the meal this year.

#jeff skinner imagine #jeff skinner fanfic #jeff skinner fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #my hockey fics

243 notes · View notes

gaemkyuu · 4 years ago

Text

I Can’t Keep Pretending (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character)

Warnings: mentions of cheating and sexual innuendos, but nothing explicit. A/N: Just a thought that came to mind when listening Back to December by Taylor Swift. Hopefully, you like it! Disclaimer: This is a FICITONAL writing piece! In no way do I claim characters in this piece act this way in real life.

Masterlist *now taking requests ;)

I can’t keep pretending (Charlie Gillespie x Original Character)

“Happy birthday-...Charlie?”

“Cadence?”

Both people stood at Owen’s door, speechless and shocked to see one another. After a beat and a pause, the air grew uncomfortable and awkward as they stood there staring at each other.

“Charlie, who is it?” Owen called from the Kitchen, shaking Charlie out of his trance. He motioned for Cadence to enter the apartment, who rushed over to Owen and gave him a big hug.

“Cady! So good to see you!” Owen gave her a bone crushing hug and lifted her off her feet as he hugged her, something he enjoyed as she was quite short. “I thought you were leaving today!”

“I am! I was on my way to the airport and I wanted to stop by and give you your birthday gift” Cadence handed him a beautifully wrapped rectangle box, which Owen opened up eagerly. All the while, Charlie stood awkwardly in the background, never really straying far from the front door, watching the interaction between the two. “Figured that since you were going to start shooting for season 2, these would come in handy” Owen pulled out two drumsticks and flickered light when they made contact with each other.

“You are the bestest friend ever!” He gave her another bear hug, thanking her for the gift.

“I thought I was your best friend?” Charlie pouted, something which Cadence softly rolled her eyes to.

Owen and Cadence had been friends since they were 5 years old, as she was the first friend Owen made when he moved back to America from Germany. The two went to school together and eventually were homeschooled together when Owen pursued acting and Cadence pursued figure skating and dance. Being next door neighbours helped build their friendship too. Even when Owen scored his first gig as Crispo, Cadence was offered a spot on the Junior Olympic team and had to move to LA. Their mothers loved the timing and the two friends couldn’t complain, but as they grew older, their careers would often take them to different places. Owen lived in between Oklahoma and California, while Cadence ended up living between California and Canada. Even though their careers were taking them in different directions, they always made time for one another.

That’s how Cadence met Charlie.

When Owen started filming Julie and the Phantoms, he often visited Cadence when she was free, since she was training in Vancouver at the time. Naturally, Cadence met the cast and they all became friends very quickly, which led them to spend a lot of time together. Her and Charlie naturally hit it off as she loved everything to do with skating and he loved hockey. The connection over the ice rink evolved into commonalities with favorite TV shows and soon everyone around them disappeared. Not that anyone minded! To be honest, everyone, including Owen, thought it was a matter of time before the two got together. Cadence was calm, poised and controlled, while Charlie was the opposite. They pulled out the best in each other and when they broke up, their friends mourned over the end of their relationship too. It didn’t help that it wasn’t a pretty break up either.

“You are my best friend Charlie, but you’re more like a bro, y’know?” Charlie smiled and Owen’s phone began to ring. “It’s my mom, let me take this call!” and without a thought disappeared into his room, leaving Cadence and Charlie alone.

“So, how have you been?” Cadence couldn’t handle awkward silences and she silently cursed Owen, knowing he knew how she felt about Charlie. “Working on any new projects?”

“Other than Julie and the Phantoms, nothing is coming up. But I did do a fun Netflix short film type thing, so there’s that” He sat down on one side of the couch and Cadence followed, sitting on the other side. She sat straight, hands in her lap, shoulders a little stiff. He sat hunched over, hands linked together, shoulders sagging. “How about you? Owen said you qualified for 2022 Winter Olympics”

“Yeah, I did. Just training for that really.” another awkward pause, both people looking for something to say. “Are you excited to start filming?”

“Yeah. I mean it’s been a while and we’re excited to get on board, so there’s that...” Anyone could tell that Charlie was looking for some way to prolong his response so that there were no more empty spaces, but how could they so that since the last time they saw each other was when they broke up? Especially when it was something that people talked about for weeks...

***

Charlie drank way too much that night. A combination of work stress and missing Cadence had gotten to be a little too much, resulting in one too many drinks and a few poor judgement calls later. Some girl at the bar had wanted his attention and Charlie couldn’t help but think she looked a lot like Cadence. Next thing he knew, she was giving him hickeys and making out with him, something Charlie didn’t fight at the beginning. However, in the drunken haze, he had a moment of clarity where he pushed the girl off of him and walked home to clear his head. He would have to explain this to Cadence because he felt guilty about it, but he was sure she would understand.

Charlie found out the fastest way to sober up that night and it involved Cadence standing in the living room with a box of Tim Horton’s donuts, looking confused, shocked and heartbroken. Charlie then became painfully aware of the hickeys decorating his neck and the fact that he was stumbling into his apartment at 2am didn’t help his case.

“Cadence? I thought you were in Vancouver for the rest of the week?” he saw her grip on the box of donuts tighten.

“I wanted to surprise you” her voice wavered, and she took careful deep breaths to stop the tears from falling. “Should I even ask?”

“Cadence I swear, it’s not what it looks like. I had a little too much to drink-”

“If it’s not what it looks like, then what is it Charlie?” he stood there speechless and stuttered to come up with an explanation. No matter what way Charlie tried to recount the events of the night, each version sounded worse than the previous version. “So you drank too much, saw a girl that looked like me, made out with her, even though you knew I was in Vancouver?”

Charlie couldn’t speak because she recounted the events of the nights exactly as they happened. He didn’t know what else to say. “I’m sorry Cadence”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it Charlie. I’ve been working my butt off and to come home to see you like this?! I knew being apart was hard on us, but if you wanted out of the relationship Charlie, I thought you would have the decency to break up with me and not cheat on me!” the tears spilled over and Charlie’s heart broke. He had never seen her cry and he hated being the reason for the first time that he did. She placed the box of donuts on the counter and picked up her duffle bag that she had brought with her. “I’m going to stay with Savannah. Don’t bother calling me when you’re sober”

***

“You guys, my mom is the sweetest! She dressed up Bindi in a birthday hat to sing happy birthday to me!” Owen walked back into the main living area, breaking the awkward silence that had settled between them.

“Hey O, I gotta head out and catch my flight back to LA. My driver’s out front waiting. I just wanted to stop by and wish you happy birthday” Cadence got up quickly walking to hug the man, who gave her a big hug in return. Charlie stood up as well, not sure what to do with his body. The two friends headed for the door and gave each other one last hug.

“Thank you for stopping by! Congratulations again on qualifying future Mrs. Mathias-Perez” Owen yelled down the hall smiling and closing the door. He turned to Charlie to discuss what the plans were for the evening, but stopped when he saw the look of shock, confusion and anger on his face.

“She’s engaged? To that guy she’s been with for six months?” Charlie couldn’t figure out if he was mad or upset or both. Sure, it had been a year since they were together, but surely anyone would agree that six months was way too early for an engagement! “Owen, you don’t even like the guy! How could you let her get engaged?!”

“Charlie, she’s happy. For the first time in a long time, she is happy. I haven’t seen her this happy since she was with you. Sure, I may not like the guy, but she deserves to be happy. If he makes her happy then who am I to take that away from her?” Owen tried to empathize with Charlie, but knowing how the relationship went down and how he was a part of both peoples’ recovery process, he couldn’t take this away from her. “Plus, I thought you didn’t care anymore Charlie”

It was true. Charlie acted like he didn’t care that Cadence broke up with him and tried to be very nonchalant about it. For the most part, he kept up this facade, when in reality it was how he was coping. He didn’t want to admit that he messed up and was the one in the wrong, but he also knew there would be no one else like Cadence.

“I don’t. I just think it’s a little messed up, that’s all.” Charlie tried to shrug it off, hoping Owen would drop it. “Anyways Birthday Boy, what’s the plan?”

***

Owen knew that neither one of them were over each other. He knew that Cadence getting engaged was Cadence trying to fill the void to forget about Charlie. He sat with her in person or over the phone every time she cried about it. He knew how much she loved Charlie and when he broke her heart, Owen watched her as she tried to pick up the pieces. He was there for all of her sleepless nights where she would toss and turn and relive that night that she left Charlie’s apartment.

Owen was also there for Charlie. He knew that Charlie’s attitude was a self-defense mechanism to ward off any attention about how he truly felt about losing Cadence, but one night he got a little too drunk and confessed to his group of friends how he really felt. Charlie didn’t remember pouring his heart out to his friends, so they kept it quiet, choosing to remain friends with both of them, but respecting the fact that they didn’t want to see each other.

Their friends became hopeful three months after their relationship when they agreed to celebrate Savannah’s birthday as a big group. It was that night that Charlie and Cadence spoke for the first time about what happened, and while no one was there to hear the conversation. They agreed that the most they could be were simply friends, even though the feelings were still there. They didn’t talk to each other unless they saw each other at a mutual friend’s gathering, and even then it was never just the two of them. They said the odd occasional happy birthday on the group chat with friends, but never addressed each other via text or call. They kept the relationship very platonic and a ‘contact only when necessary’ method.

One can imagine how surprised Charlie was when he received a fancy invitation inviting him to her engagement party. At first, Charlie felt like it was an attack, stating that she was happier without him, but then he realized that she really meant it when she said that she wanted to be friends. This is what friends do. They invite each other to celebrate monumental moments in their lives with them. Yet Charlie felt his stomach dropped as the engagement really sank in. Cadence was moving on and he missed his chance.

He really debated as to whether or not he would go, but Owen finally convinced him that he had to go or else he would confirm everyone’s suspicion that he still loved Cadence and that he was bitter that she was moving on. No matter which way he looked at it, his absence would be felt among his friends and Cadence. Therefore, he put on his best semi-formal attire and headed to the event in Malibu with Owen. He was grateful that his other friends were there as it eased the tension a bit and helped distract him from only thinking about Cadence. However, he couldn’t stop himself from being concerned when Cadence’s husband-to-be pulled Owen aside to whisper in his ear. The look on Owen’s face meant something was up and Charlie couldn’t help but sneakily follow him. Charlie hid around the corner and peaked at his friend who was knocking urgently on the door.

“Cady, open up, it’s Owen!” he kept knocking at the door but no one answered. “Cady come on, I can hear you crying in there. Let me in” again no answer, causing Owen to sigh in frustration. He saw Owen exchange some quiet words with her fiancé, who nodded as both of them walked away, Charlie quickly hiding himself, in hopes that he wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t tell you why he followed them, or why he walked up to the door after they had left, or why he softly knocked, but Cadence opened the door at his knock not expecting to see him. Before she could protest or ask him anything, he gently pushed her back into the room and shut the door behind him, locking it again.

“What are you doing here?” she sniffled, turning to the mirror dabbing her eyes. This was the second time he saw her cry.

“I should be asking you that question” she scoffed at his remark and felt the tears spilling over again. Charlie didn't say a single thing and sat down on the love seat. Looking around the room, he could tell it was just a small powder room for the guests to use for some quiet time or for a mother to nurse. He watched as Cadence paced the room wiping her tears, waiting patiently for her to speak and desperately trying to come up with what to do. “Y’alright?”

“I’m totally fine!!!” she yelled at him exasperatedly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you” he chuckled at her apology

“It’s fine. I deserve it” this caused a small smile to appear on her face. “Wanna talk about it?” At first she shook her head and paced around the room some more, but finally caved. She plopped down beside him on the love seat, head in her hands.

“I have the most wonderful fiancé who has been there for me and who has made me feel happy again. I should be the happiest person in the world, but I’m not. Girls would kill to have him as a husband and here I am feeling like I am making the biggest mistake of my life.” she sniffed some more and Charlie passed her a Kleenex.

“Why’s that?” he inched closer to her and started rubbing her back. It was something he did when he knew she was upset because it brought her comfort. Apparently this was something he shouldn’t have done because Cadence shot up from the couch and stomped away from him.

“Because I still love you!” she turned around and faced him, tears falling down her face. “I don’t understand why! You made out with another girl at a bar drunk because you missed me! I should be mad at you and I should think that you’re the scum of the earth! Yet, I continue to be friends with you and see you around with our friends, and I have to keep pretending like I don’t think of you! I have to pretend that I don’t miss you anymore! Wishing that you asked me to marry me and not him!” she slapped her hand over her mouth as soon as the phrase left her mouth. “I didn’t mean that... I’m not thinking straight... I’m just stressed and under a lot of pressure” Charlie was sure she was saying this to herself, making it even more obvious that she was not confident about going through with the engagement.

“Cady take a deep breath. You’re going to trigger a panic attack at this rate” she followed his orders and sat back down beside him. He wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her arm in hopes to soothe her. She leaned her head on his shoulder, the silence filling the room once again.

“Do you still love me?” The desperation in her voice was unlike anything Charlie had ever heard from her. It was as if she was begging to hear the answer. He opened and closed his mouth several times, thinking about what he wanted to say, ultimately settling for the truth.

“I never stopped. I’ve regretted every moment.” The two sat there in silence, letting his answer sink in. “I can’t ask you to forgive me because I don’t deserve it. I can’t ask you to be with me because I know how much I hurt you. I have debated over and over about whether or not I should try to convince you to give me another chance, but Owen was right. He was able to make you happy again after I crushed you. Who was I to stop you from moving on?”

The door suddenly opened and in the doorway stood Owen and Cadence’s fiancé a little out of breath, but holding the key to the room. A look of shock and happiness crossed Owen’s face, but confusion and hurt crossed her fiancé’s face. Both of them rose quickly, Cadence wiping away her tears and fixing her dress, Charlie taking one big step away from her.

“Hi Darling. Charlie was looking for the bathroom and ran into me in the hallway. I was just feeling overwhelmed, but he was able to talk me down from an anxiety attack.” Cadence knew that was the stupidest excuse for what just happened, but Charlie took that as a cue to leave, Owen following suit, leaving the two to discuss in private.

“You alright man?” Owen asked patting Charlie on the back.

“Yeah. Uh, I think I need to head home. Pretty sure her fiancé doesn’t want me here any more. Cover for me? I don’t want to cause a scene” Owen nodded understandingly. He could tell that more transpired between Cadence and Charlie than what they were letting off.

Charlie drove home, knowing that Owen could easily catch a ride with one of their other friends. He drove from Malibu to LA with the windows down blasting music, lost in his own thoughts. He would give anything to have a second chance with Cadence, but he knew that sometimes you mess up so badly, that you don’t deserve that second chance. He couldn’t blame her for the choices she made that night. When his ex girlfriend, before Cadence, cheated on him, it took him a whole year before he started considering liking someone, let alone dating them. Heck, he wouldn’t be surprised if Cadence hated him for the rest of her life. Yet she confessed to still loving him and wanting to be with him, something Charlie wanted so badly. Pulling into his parking space, he lowered down the music and shut off his vehicle, the silence on the way to the door a little too much for him. He quickly got ready for bed, something he thought of as pointless because he knew he would lie there all night thinking about what Cadence said.

What if he begged for her back?

What if they got back together?

What if he proposed to her?

As he lay in his bed, he put on some music, hoping that the melodies would help ease his mind. This was something he always did when he felt overwhelmed. He would put on some music, close his eyes and just listen. Charlie didn’t know how much time passed as he was lost in his thoughts, but a sudden pounding at the door jolted him out of bed. Startled and a little frazzled, he took a moment to compose himself, wondering if he was hearing things or if there was someone banging on his door. His question was soon answered when the banging occurred again. Throwing on some pants, he rushed to the front door, confused as who might be banging. He glanced at the clock by the front door quickly before answering it: 12am.

Cadence stood there for a brief second before hugging him tightly and confessing. “I couldn’t do it Charlie. I couldn’t marry someone when I’m still in love with you. I’m still pissed that you hurt me and I haven’t completely forgiven you, but I can’t be without you. I can’t be with anyone except you” Charlie held her in his arms tightly, as if this was a dream.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything I put you through. Be mad at me, do whatever you want to me. Just please give me a chance to make this right” he pleaded and she held him tighter. “Will you give me one more shot?” he pulled away to look her in the eyes and the next second her lips were on Charlie’s, who gladly kissed her back. He took a few steps back and she kicked the door close with her foot, their lips never leaving each others. Their kiss was filled with so many emotions. It was as if it said “I’m sorry”, “I forgive you”, “I’m still mad at you”, “I miss you”, and “I still love you” all in one go. As they slowly separated and stared deep into each other’s eyes, the silence actually felt like it belonged. The buzz of their phones distracted them and they broke the kiss. Rolling their eyes at the text and making eye contact affirmed that they had gotten the same text. Charlie placed his and her phone on the counter, kissing her again passionately, and dragging her back into his bedroom. They had a lot that they needed to work out.

‘I told you so’ -Owen

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie imagines #fanfiction #imagine #owen joyner

88 notes · View notes

official-weasley · 3 years ago

Text

Headcanon time! (Part 3)

So @am-i-space and I have been talking about dragons (as one normally does on a Sunday afternoon) and of course, our imagination went wild! Now, we know that our dragon lover works in Romania and we have learned about a few species (even seen a few of them in movies without Charlie but okay let's not discuss that here) of dragons but like, let's face it there are more!

The second I have learned about other schools and that they have dragons guarding the vaults in Gringotts I had a HC that the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary isn't the only one!

I can see one being in Canada, somewhere high up in the mountains and the same goes for South America. Of course, one would also be somewhere in the Himalayas. And let's face it the breeds we have all grown to love aren't the only ones!

Of course, Charles Weasley agrees with us 110% and after working in the Sanctuary for 10-15 years he takes a bit of a breather (not from dragons, of course) and travels the world in the hopes to see as many of them as he can. He borrows dad's camera (the one Bill got for him in my other HC where they go and see alpacas) and he starts his adventure.

So, let's start with the sea! I agree with @am-i-space like what do we know about oceans, really? Bloody nothing, that's what! So they proposed that there are water dragons and I am 100% on board with that. Just imagine them swimming around, ever so gracefully, blowing bubbles when they breathe! And they would have the most beautiful scales which would reflect in the sun ranging from dark green to purple and blue and even though they are BIG they are friendly and swim with the dolphins and communicate with whales.

Nobody will convince me that when Charlie goes to observe this beautiful behavior and hears the water dragons sing their mating song for the first time he doesn't cry his eyes out because he can swear that he has never heard such a beautiful sound before and would never get tired of it and is honestly thinking about moving in the middle of the ocean so he could wake up to those sounds every morning.

The next stop on his journey would be to find out if the rumors about ice dragons are true. Charlie, as smart as he is, knew that the most probable location to see if they are real would be the Himalayas. So he wrote to the Himalayan Sanctuary to stay there for a couple of weeks to explore in peace. The dragonologists he talked to there all said that they have given up hope to see one and that despite the rumors that they are hiding one in their reserve they had to disappoint him because they don't have it.

So Charlie put on the hat, the scarf, and the gloves (he knitted himself thank you very much!) and headed out, determined that he will find the ice dragon!

After about a week of hiking and his muscles aching, he began to lose hope to see one. He knew that he would need more time and that he would be ridiculously lucky to see one in such a short amount of time but he also knew that he has to take care of himself and put his health first so he headed back.

A day in, he heard something that sounded like a cry for help. It was in dangerous territory and he probably shouldn't go there but it really sounded like a baby dragon and there won't be a day in his life where Charlie Weasley wouldn't help a dragon in need.

He gasped when he came to the spot the cries were coming from. He saw something white and silver move in a huge pile of snow which looked like an aftermath of an avalanche. He hurried to see what was making the sounds and if the creature was okay at once.

The second he started to remove the snow around the creature he knew he has found one - an ice dragon! The baby dragon was frightened and looked at Charlie with appreciative eyes when he picked him up and started to look around to where this little guy could come from.

He remembered that baby dragons are really good at finding their way back to their mothers so once he brought the cub to safety he put him down and observed his behavior.

When his little ice friend stopped being disoriented he started crying again and howling toward the nearby mountain.

"Of course!" Charlie pressed his hand on his forehead and shook his head. Of course, the reason he couldn't find an ice dragon before, was because they live on the highest loneliest peeks.

Charlie was looking up at the one in front of him, thinking how in the bloody hell is he supposed to get up there with all his gear, tired muscles, and a baby dragon to top it all off!

Then he remembered that while it might not be humanly possible, a bit of magic could do the trick! He gently tied the little guy to his bag and took out his wand. He walked to the bottom of the mountain and then he cast the levitation charm on himself.

Every time he saw a platform that looked stable enough to stand on he stopped to take a few breaths and see how his friend was doing. The higher they got the more cheerful the little one got and Charlie knew they were getting closer.

Charlie put his wand away when they landed in front of what looked like a cave. Charlie gently untied the dragon and put him on the ground. The dragon let out the cutest little roar that made Charlie's heart melt and the ground beneath them started to shake.

Charlie gulped and didn't find his idea to return the dragon back home smart anymore when a gigantic version of his white-silver friend appeared in front of him. The dragon mother looked mad but cautious. The cub ran to her - trying his hardest to fly - and started making purring noises. The ice dragon momma sniffed her baby and then sniffed Charlie which was the coldest breath he has ever felt on his skin.

After she was done, he ushered her cub inside, and with a wiggle of his tail at Charlie, his ice friend disappeared inside the cave. Once his mother made sure he was safe, she turned back to Charlie and roared right in his face.

Charlie, who was used to dragons do that every day back in Romania, didn't even blink. His calm composure impressed the ice dragon and she carefully turned around and lowered herself to the ground.

Charlie knew what she was doing but still couldn't believe it! The dragon is going to let him fly on her! He was only so lucky 2 times with the dragons in the Sanctuary and they knew him for years and this one was just patiently waiting for him to get ready as if he was here every day.

The second Charlie stroked the cold silver scales on her back, the dragon started fluttering her wings, and before Charlie had a chance to gasp they were in the air - making a full circle around the dragon's home and then slowly losing altitude until they were at the bottom of the mountain.

Charlie thanked the dragon and apologized for not having anything for her to eat while the ice mother replied with breathing icy cold air straight into Charlie's face. He was observing her flying back up to her cub and he knew that he could take a picture of her but since nobody knew they were here and were probably pretty rare he decided to just keep the memory of the experience close to his heart and returned to the Sanctuary.

The last stop of his - so far absolute epic adventure - was the Sanctuary in South America which was hidden deep in the Andes mountain range. There he met a few very exotic species of dragons who reminded him a lot of the Welsh Greens he took after in Romania except that these were of all sorts of colors from red to violet.

After the tour of the reserve, 2 of the Dragonologists took him to what looked like a highly protected and secluded habitat and told him that they only share this information with other dragonologists.

Charlie was excited to see what they are hiding but he wasn't prepared for what he saw once they got there. It was a storm dragon - sky blue with a white mane.

"But I thought they were extinct." Was all Charlie managed to say before approaching the beautiful creature to fully take in what was resting in front of him.

The two dragonologists told him that he is the last of its kind and that he must be protected at all costs until his very last breath which hopefully the day that happens is still very very far away.

Charlie's 2 new friends allowed him to spend a few hours with the mighty beast and as he was sitting there, studying it, Charlie couldn't believe that all his dreams were coming true.

The next day when he was having dinner in a nearby restaurant he heard some of the locals there whisper about a creature called el chupacabra. He has heard of the creature before - mostly when he read Muggle folklore. However, these people weren't describing a dog-like creature. No! It sounded like they were talking about dragons except that they described the creature as fairly small and surely no breed of a dragon is that small?

Because this information didn't allow Charles Weasley the dragon lover (not obsessor, only lover) to sleep at night he decided to venture into the Amazonian rainforest and see the creature for himself.

He was only walking for 5 hours this time around when he heard unusual squeaking noises. They led him to a meadow that appeared to be empty at first. Because he was parched, he sat down at the edge of it, took off his backpack, drank some water, and unwrapped a sandwich he prepared in the morning.

The second the smell of his delicious meal spread he saw a few heads poke out of the tall grass. Charlie couldn't believe his eyes! They were dragons and the locals were right - they were so small! More and more dragons started to approach him and at this point, Charlie started to think he was in heaven because this was too good to be true.

They appeared to be friendly and awfully playful. He was also in awe by their size as some were as small as crup puppies while the biggest was about to his waist in height.

Charlie had no choice but to share his sandwich for which he was rewarded with licks and wiggling tails. These dragons didn't breathe fire as Charlie expected but big puffs of air that soothed him in this Amazonian heat. They came in all sorts of colors from different hues of green and brown and some were even yellow and orange.

They were absolutely beautiful and even though they had the structure of most dragons there was something about them that Charlie couldn't wrap his mind about. He narrowed his eyes and observed one for solid 5 minutes before he figured it out.

They had a fluffball of hair on the top of their heads making them the only breed Charlie has ever laid his eyes on to have fur and it made them extra adorable!

He spent the rest of his afternoon chasing and playing with the fluffs (as he called them) and because he was having so much fun he forgot about the time, making him almost spend the night in the jungle.

As he was returning he couldn't stop the smile that was spreading from one of his ears to the other as he deemed his adventure more than successful and he couldn't wait to take another breather like this because he is sure that there are even more breeds out there to see and admire!

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley headcanon #because daydreaming with friends is amazing

26 notes · View notes

phynali · 3 years ago

Text

so not to ruminate on things that vex me, but the past 2 or so months have been kinda shit, and i’m trucking along and there absolutely are high points and good things and joys that balance some of this out, but i need to vent out some of the negative emotions somewhere to get ‘em out. so i guess i’m doing that here because -

we’re in lockdown#6 where i live (state of victoria) and it’s hard, this yo-yo of restrictions and swinging in and out of one lockdown after another.

for those who understandably won’t know, what we call lockdown here means not just restaurant and commercial closures and mandatory working from home unless you’re in an industry where that’s impossible -- it also means no guests (0) inside you’re home unless you’re both living alone and single or else romantic partners, it means not leaving your home at all except for one of 4-5 necessary reasons, not being outside for more than 2hrs per day even to exercise, and not going more than 5km from your home unless required for work/medical/etc required reasons.

it’s intense. we spent (i think) 128 days in this degree of lockdown in 2020, never mind how many we spent in other forms of restrictions and working from home. and we’ve been back in it four (4) times in 2021 already. in-out-in-out-in-out -

it’s taking a toll on the mental health of every person i know. we get weekly emails with wellbeing and resilience tips from my job -- not just “be productive or else” capitalism but heartfelt ones from wellbeing officers with copies of articles like this one on languishing from the NYT, acknowledging we’re all struggling and directing us to the plethora of wellbeing resources our workplace is trying to provide, not only to us but reminding us they offer it to our families too.

i’m one of the lucky ones. i’m really not trying to wallow here or to pretend otherwise. i appreciate that i can work from home, even though i can’t focus when i do and it this interacts with my adhd to fuck my productivity. even if i’m so behind and delayed it feels like i’ve lost 12-18 months worth of work and it will have long-term ramifications on my career -- even so, i still i have a job. i still get paid. and i even kept my job, a bit by the skin of my teeth but i did, when my sector downsized last year. yes, the way my employer went about lay offs left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth (my own included), but i made it through.

and my sector, while affected, is by no means the worst of the collateral damage.

the yo-yo of lockdowns is taking a very very real toll on industries like hospitality, tourism, commerce. and the economy does have indirect effects on health and mental health as well. my friend, a waitress, was on her way to work the evening shift at a restaurant when she got the call about the latest lockdown. she had to turn around and go home because the announcement came just hours before the lockdown was imposed, and every place suddenly had to close by 8pm. bye bye evening shift. so much of the government support for these industries has dried up, has been inadequate.

lockdowns save lives. i don’t begrudge my state for imposing one except that yes -- i’m resentful we’re here again with only six cases. i can be both accepting and grateful and also pissed and tired and more all at once.

even more than the latest lockdown, i’m pissed about the yo-yo. that we went into lockdown in june, came out in july, went back in in july, came back out in july, are going back in now, in the first week of august. three lockdown/re-openings in 10 weeks, as if this rollercoaster doesn’t completely incapacitate our ability to plan or prepare for anything more than a week out, more than a day out -- in this case, more than a few hours out. 4pm the lockdown was announced, with an 8pm start time. as if that doesn’t have more insidious consequences on individuals and industries than a more clearly articulated and consistent approach. as if all the restaurants that got to open up this week didn’t purchase large food orders for this weekend that will spoil because they were given 4 hours notice to close their doors.

that’s the part i hate, right now more than the lockdowns themselves. consumer sentiment was at a high in april, optimism was everywhere. people felt good, and like we had a plan forward. now -- well, now my job is sending me emails about how normal and okay it is that i might be ‘languishing’ because aren’t we all?

and i absolutely do begrudge my federal government, and i’m angry with them, and this is part of why:

youtube

but i also accept, to some extent, that these decisions have all been made in difficult circumstances, and i’m not really about to pretend i could do any better.

at the same time, australia’s vaccine rollout is among the slowest and lowest at least within OECD countries. i know that’s partly because we’ve managed the keep cases low and therefore we are prioritized less when it comes to who needs the vaccines most (and thus who is earlier in line to be able to purchase) among other geo-political reasons i won’t get into, but it still very much sucks. our timeline and ability to move forward and ability to stop having lockdowns requires a mostly-vaccinated population, and that’s not something we’ll have anytime soon.

and i am a visa-holder here and my family is back in canada and with our current border restrictions leaving to visit is honestly is not an option because i wouldn’t be able to return, to work. i’m managing that distance okay most of the time despite my homesickness and frustration but my partner’s parents are older and his mother’s health just isn’t amazing and it’s weighing on him a lot.

a phd student i work with just had a parent die in another country while stuck here, had to drop everything to return, is devastated by not being by their parent’s side when it happened because it came on sudden, and now won’t be able to come back into australia after, will have to finish their thesis remotely from abroad. stories like that are becoming commonplace in certain circles, here. this student is not the first or only person i know who has been in that exact situation in the past year.

it’s enraging, and upsetting, and instills a sense of helplessness because -- there’s nothing that can really be done about it. there’s no good answer, but it’s scary to think of what could happen. i know it scares my husband. if his mother’s health suddenly dips -- does he drop everything and leave? how can he not? would i go with him or hold the fort here? what ramifications does that have either way?

right now, we’re in the first stages of getting permanent residency, my job is putting in the nomination, and this is one of those awesome high-points i mentioned. it’s a very much needed sense of security in my career and my future in this country. but while a PR application is pending and under review, you can’t leave the country, even in pre-covid times. it takes months to get the application fully nominated, accepted, then submitted, and months on months to process.

in january 2020 we had agreed that for xmas 2020 we’d return home to canada. obviously the world changed and we quickly determined that wouldn’t be the case. we pushed that plan back to july-aug 2021, then to october 2021, xmas 2021. my partner’s sister asked him last week if we started making plans, booking things for xmas, was calling to check that we’d had our second jabs. he had to explain the situation to her, that we aren’t even eligible for our first vaccine yet, that we aren’t holding out any real hope of visiting, not this year, not until mid-next.

anyway - i’m just. languishing, i guess, if that’s the word for it after all. i know it’s not the same as depression -- i’ve had episodes of that, been treated for it in different ways. this is and feels different, even if there are obvious similarities. whatever to call it, it sucks, and i hate it. and i hate the other lows and anxieties and crap i’ve been dealing with in the past few months as well that didn’t make it into this post about covid. crap with work, with friends, with goddamn car rentals of all stupid things. crap that’s making me anxious and crap that just needs processing. crap that is, ultimately, massively exacerbated because lockdowns turn us into little rats gnawing on the bars of our cages.

and i guess i just needed to talk about it somewhere, to organize my thoughts and free up some headspace (emotion space?) currently being used to hold these thoughts and feelings in place. i kind of hate posting personal crap like this and always get the urge to delete but i also have a hard time organising my thoughts if i don’t write them out with this intent to post. sort of want to go outside and scream at god, sort of want to phone up a friend and yell at him for an hour for being an exhausting ass, sort of want to be alone for a day to curl up under a blanket with a movie that’ll make me cry because raging at the universe is always so much easier when i’m alone and unobserved. but i guess since those aren’t especially kind or feasible i’ll post this instead.

anyway - if you read to the end of this for any reason, i’m not trying to be maudlin, and there’s really no need to respond. it’s just a feelings dump, sucking some of the poison out, not really much different than journalling but i’ve always been better at that online than on paper.

#ugh #personal post #just organising thoughts and bitching about present circumstances #because i'm tired of 2021's bullshit and needed to vent a bit #gpoy

14 notes · View notes

aiyaar · 4 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas everyone!💫💕 Hope you're having an amazing Christmas with the people you love. Here's my Christmas gift for y'all. Solangelo celebrating Christmas 🖤💛🌲💫

Ariana Grande- Love Is Everything

Nico woke up the next morning, feeling so much happiness. Sunlight streamed throught the curtains and shone in his eyes. Apollo had already started his day.

Nico felt a hand in his hair and rolled over, meeting with sky blue eyes.

“Merry Christmas.” Will whispered, smiling at him.

“Merry Christmas.”

Nico lifted himself a little bit, resting his chin on Will’s chest, drawing his finger around the tattoo on his left pectoral.

“Still can’t believe it’s real.” Nico said, raising on elbow and looking Will in the eyes. ”You’re real. And I’m finally home. With you.”

Will lay on his back, entangling his long fingers in the black curls.

“A whole month.” He said, cupping Nico’s face with his hands. “So many things we can do. But all I want is to lie in the bed like this with you.”

“I’d like to spend the whole Christmas day like this.” Nico said, feeling Will’s scent. He always smelled like morning dew, grass and medicaments.

“But we have a lot to do.” Nico felt Will’s chest lifting up a little with a sigh. “Mom’s been calling since 6 a.m. And I promised Kayla and Austin we will visit camp today. Dad will come too.”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, thinking about Naomi. Will had an amazing mother. “I also need to see Hazel.”

“Then I’ll go and make us breakfast. After that we’ll go celebrating Christmas with our families.”

Will tried to get up but Nico was still lying on top of him.

“Or we can cuddle ten more minutes.”

“Okay.” Will chuckled, lying down and kissing Nico’s forehead. “Ten more minutes.”

Ten minutes grew into an hour, so now they were driving on the highway to see Will’s mother. And they were late

They were wearing the sweaters Naomi made for them last year: Nico’s was black, with a skull in a Christmas year and Will’s yellow, reindeers on his sweater were circling around an embroidered bright sun.

Naomi Solace opened the door, wearing a red dress and an apron. Her auburn hair were gathered in a bun.

“Boys!” She cried, hugging them both. She smelled like cookies and chocolate. “Come in, come in. I have so many things to ask you. Nico, how’s there in Venice?”

Nico always loved that atmosphere that was in the air in Will’s childhood house on Christmas. It was special.

Naomi kept asking about Nico’s college, Venice, Will’s exams. She told them about many Christmas concerts she had. They were talking, laughing, singing.

The camp Half-Blood was always quiet on Christmas. There were like twenty people who stayed and Nico loved that calmness around the camp.

Walking to the Big House, Nico had so many memories. There’s the lake, where he and Will like to go on a canoe date. Here’s his cabin, no one lived there for a couple of years. He looked at the dining pavilion, a hole he made in a Christmas day many years ago, the worst day of his life. He looked at the Big House and could almost see teenagers Will and Nico playing this stupid card game with Dionysus on the porch.

Nostalgia flooded his heart and tears appeared in his eyes as he remembered the first day he saw this mazing place. It was ages ago but he remembered it as if it was tomorrow.

Will took his hand and Nico knew that Will had the same sweet ache in his heart.

Chiron galloped on the snowy meadow, greeting them and wishing merry Christmas. Dionysus looked as grumpy as usual but he felicitated them and gave Nico a candy cane. Nico never understood it but Dionysus had grown to care about Nico as if he was his son. Ever since that Tartarus thing… No, he told himself, don’t think about it.

They met Apollo on the archery spot.

“My boys!” He hugged Will and kissed the top of Nico’s head. Nico got used to this, the sun god has been doing this every time he saw Nico after the battle in the tower of Nero. It was sort of a habit.

“You guys look so good.” Apollo beamed at them. “How have you been? My boy was probably dying there without his cute little boyfriend on his side.” Apollo petted Nico’s cheek. Nico should’ve already get used to it but he still blushed.

After Apollo they met Piper and Leo, who returned to camp to work on some secret project or whatever. Then they met Kayla and Austin and went to the dining pavilion to drink eggnog together.

The next stop were Jacksons. Sally’s greeting was as warm as usual. She almost treated Percy’s demigod friends as if they are her own children. Estelle was already six and she kept clinging to Nico, ranting about everything.

Will and Annabeth were discussing something about colleges, while Percy told Nico about New Rome, the huntresses and all that he missed when he was in Venice.

“Thank the fates there’s no titans, giants and gods who seek for help this year.” Percy said, snatching a cookie from Sally’s tray. “It’s been calm for years.”

“Hey.” Nico slightly hit him on the head. “Don’t jinx it, idiota. “

Percy rubbed his head, pouting a little but couldn’t argue with di Angelo.

They didn’t stay for a long time in Hades place. It wasn’t in the Underworld, no. He had a luxurious house, little gloomy but snug in the living world. Nico always felt uncomfortable when Demeter was around, so he was happy it was only his father and Persephone.

His stepmother wasn’t that horrible now, after all these years she had grown to maybe like Nico and Will, being the son of a son god, had a good effect on her flowers, so she didn’t mind them visiting sometimes. As a Christmas present she gave Nico a whole bouquet of roses and he had no idea what to do with them. The bouquet was two big and Will said it was cute how when Nico hold it, his face couldn’t be seen and roses almost overbalanced them.

It was the most awkward meeting this Christmas. Hades had gave Nico too many presents: the brand new IPhone that came out like yesterday, new watches (Nico didn’t even wear watches) and transferred more money to his bank account. Knowing that Nico, didn’t like driving, he solemnly handed over new car keys for Will, staying that the car was already on the parking lot of their house. Hades gave Will a new car every Christmas, since he was 17 and Will didn’t know what to do with them all. When they tried to sell one, Hades took offense, so they had to keep them.

Besides the present he kept glaring at Will as if he did something bad and even though they’ve been together for five years now, he asked what was his actual intentions, while Persephone gave Nico a lecture about why they should have more flowers in home.

They walked out of Hades’ place embarrassed, as usual.

The New Rome was, unlike Camp Half-Blood, very animated. The Christmas was in the air.

Huntresses of Artemis came by, having a day of. Nico was happy to chat with Reyna but he kept looking for one particular person in the crowd.

Jason told him he’ll come back to America too and will celebrate Christmas in New Rome.

Nico looked around, suddenly yelping when someone hugged him from the back, lifting him from the ground.

“Jason!” Nico laughed.

“Hey, lil bro.” Jason smiled, petting his head. “Hello, Will.” He gave Will a high-five.

“How are you? How’s London.” Nico asked, when they sat down on the bench.

“Everything’s cool. A little busy, though. I won’t be able to stay for too long.” Jason answered.

“Well,” Will faced Jason. “You definitely have to visit us before you leave.”

“Yeah.” Nico said. “Anything new in your…personal life?” Nico asked curiously.

Jason laughed softly.

“Maybe.” Nico squinted at him. “Come on, you know I’d tell you if it was serious.” But Jason looked slightly embarrassed. “Ugh, so… Did you guys see Hazel already?”

“Nah.” Nico said. “Reyna said she and Frank are a little busy now.”

“I wonder what are they busy with.” Will chuckled, making both Jason and Nico’s eyes widen.

“Will!”

A half an hour later, Hazel and Frank finally walked out of their praetor house. Frank squeezed Nico and Will in a bear hug, Hazel kissed Nico on the check and hugged Will.

“Gods, I’ve missed you.” She said, taking Nico’s hand. “How’s college?”

They walked together, Nico talking about his year in Venice, Will about his exams and stuff. Frank told them that he’s been planning to go back to Canada next year. He wants to join an army.

“Really?” Nico was a little shocked. “But what about your praetor position.”

Frank looked around, observing the camp as the stood on the hill.

“There’s a lot of worthy guys. Lavinia, for example.” He sighed. “We were just thinking about trying to have our own life, you know? No war, no gods.”

Will looked at Hazel.

“So you’re leaving too?”

Hazel looked a little sad but a gleam lightened in her eyes.

“I want to go to college. In Canada. We’re planning to move together.” She looked at Nico, as if expecting his reaction. He took her hand.

“That’s great! I’m sure you guys we’ll be fine.”

Hazel smiled at him, resting her curly head on her brother’s shoulder.

They drove back home in silence, a warm feeling in their hearts.

“You know.” Nico started, looking at Will. “Five years ago I couldn’t imagine it’ll be like this.”

Will quickly glanced at him, then returning his eyes on the road.

“What do you mean?”

Nico sighed, closing his eyes.

“I have everything now, you know. And it scares me, how fast the nights are changing. I still remember the Battle of Manhattan, as if it was yesterday. And here we are now. And all this changes, they are… Scary. Me living in Venice, you here, Hazel and Frank leaving to Canada. Even Percy and Annabeth are planning to move somewhere else. And what if with all these changes… we’ll lose each other?”

Will removed one hand from the steering wheel, resting it on Nico’s lap. He slowed down the car a little and looked at Nico.

“I know what you mean. Ever since you went to college, it’s been bothering me. But you know what?” Will smiled, squeezing Nico’s hand. “No matter what, we are family. All of us. This Christmas all I can think about is family. My mom, dad, siblings. You. You and your friends, your sister. Even your father.” Will chuckled. “We all are family. And it doesn’t matter where we live and what we do. We’re always together.”

Nico fell silent for a moment, thinking about Will’s words. Then he smiled.

“Right.” He rubbed Will’s hand with a thumb, feeling his warmth. “Family.”

So many years Nico spent looking for something, that will make him feel calm. Happy. He had friends, sister. He met Will. And on this Christmas evening he finally found the right word. They were together, no matter what. Jason, Reyna, Percy. Will’s parents and Nico’s parents. Hazel and Frank. And, most important, Will. He had them all. They were his actual family.

Nico closed his eyes, feeling drowsy as the car wiggled a little. He used to wonder how his life would go if Bianca was with him. But now it didn’t matter. All the things he’s been through was perfectly safe in his heart and he loved them. His life led him to something wonderful.

Eight years passed since the worst Christmas of his life. And today was probably the best Christmas he’d ever had.

Yes, it didn’t matter if he was in Venice, Will in America and Hazel in Canada. It didn’t matter where his family was. As long as love lived in his heart, they are together.

Nico opened his eyes, glancing at Will, who was concentrating on the road. He smiled, closing his eyes again.

Family, he thought as he fell asleep, still feeling Will’s hand in his own.

(Thank you guys for supporting and reading my blog. I've started it few month ago and there's already so many of you! Thank you so much 💕💕💕💕 Merry Christmas guys

#heroes of olympus #percy jackon and the olympians #nico di angelo #percy jackson #pjo/hoo #jason grace #solangelo #will solace #frank zhang #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #hazel levesque #reyna avila ramirez arellano #trials of apollo

35 notes · View notes

theasstour · 5 years ago

Photo

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱 𝓸𝓯 𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓾𝓼 𝓫𝔂 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓻𝓸 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓲

𝓯𝓲𝓬 𝓹𝓪𝓰𝓮 | 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 21k 𝓝𝓑: 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮, 𝓼𝓮𝔁𝓾𝓪𝓵 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽

A/N: my baby @shepherald... grazie mille my dear one! i’ll never be able to thank you enough for what you’ve done for bb, and i’ll never be able to put into words how much you mean to me! i love you so much! thank you!

A/N2: so, this is it! last chapter of bb! it honestly doesn’t seem real, and i’m so sad i have to let painter!harry go cos i’ve grown quite fond of him the year i’ve spent thinking about him and this fic! what bb represents is what makes this fic so special to me. i - a plus size woman - never felt like i belonged anywhere. i assumed i was unloveable from never seeing a bigger person like myself in a book or a film where that person was deemed attractive. they were always the clown, or ‘the fat character’, or their entire storyline was based around them needing to lose weight. i’ve gotten pretty fucking tired of never seeing myself represented properly in fiction or irl or ANYWHERE for that matter, so i decided to take matters into my own hands, and i cannot begin to tell you how LIBERATING and AMAZING it felt! to each person who reached out to me saying bb made them confident, made them feel like they weren’t alone, opened their eyes to what life as a bigger person is: i love you all. this is the exact reason why i wrote bb. fat doesn’t equal ugly, it doesn’t equal unloveable, it doesn’t equal any negatively charged words. fat equals beautiful, it equals human. and anyone who ever tries to tell you otherwise can choke lmao. enjoy this last instalment of bb, i love you all so much x

Sunday, 1 March 2020

Y/N had always thought that the biggest changes were those you didn’t pay immediate notice to. Like the changing of the seasons, aging on your birthday, when the clock struck 12 and a new day began. Changes that were caused by time; that could not be prevented. Loads of changes couldn’t be prevented, but it was impossible to escape time. Manmade to make life simpler to live, and yet it’s what kills us in the end. However, Y/N had come to learn that some changes – the biggest and worst of them all – pained you so much, they didn’t fully leave your body. Like a volcanic eruption, they’d come every now and again, but would leave you scorched and burning for days. She chose not to think about those changes.

But it was hard when she was out shopping with her younger sister and said younger sister would not stop bloody chattering. The first day of spring had brought nothing but clouds and the occasional fall of some rain. Y/N wasn’t impressed. Wasn’t a new season supposed to bring something else? So far it just felt like any other winter day in south England.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

Looking up at Portia, it was painfully obvious Y/N hadn’t been paying attention to anything her sister had been saying.

Portia raised her eyebrows. “Are you taking the mick right now?”

“What?!”

“You’re not even listening to what I’ve been saying.” Portia scanned her Oyster card and walked on into Haggerston station, leaving Y/N sighing behind her. Y/N scanned her own card and followed, knowing that her sister would not stop being annoying unless she asked what she’d been talking about. The second she began talking again, she’d forget Y/N wasn’t listening to begin with.

The two were on their way to Victoria Station, Portia was going back home after having stayed with Y/N in her shared flat in Hackney for two weeks, having had some modelling jobs to attend to. And now that she was done, she would be going home to their mother and staying there for a week until she had to come back down to London for some more jobs. Y/N was getting rather sick of her little sister staying with her when she could easily find her own flat, but she figured she’d bring that conversation up another time. A time when she hadn’t pissed her sister off already that day.

“Tia,” Y/N said as they reached the Southbound platform, the windy remnants of the storm that had just been making it freezing to be taking the Overground and wait outside for the next tube to arrive. “What were you saying?”

“Do you even care?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”

“This bloke I’ve been going on dates with while I’ve been here, right,” Portia started crossing her arms over her chest as the tube started approaching, knowing that a gust of wind would accompany it. “He’s got this friend that’s been eyeing me up the two times I’ve met him. He’s fit and everything, but I’m seeing Azeem, you know.”

“Tell Azeem his mate makes you feel uncomfortable and he’ll do something about it till next time you meet.”

“But he doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable, that’s the thing.” Portia sighed as the two girls walked up to the yellow line, waiting for the train to stop so they could get on. “I just think it’s annoying.”

“That men find you attractive?”

“That the fit one’s are always the ones I can’t have.”

“Oh, my days, Portia.” Y/N mumbled, getting on the Overground and sitting down in one of the orange and brown seats. Portia sat down next to her, putting her bag on the ground beside her feet.

“What, Y/N?”

“You just sound like a bellend.”

“How?”

Y/N gave her a look.

“How?!”

“’The fit one’s are always the ones I can’t have’? At least you’re dating someone, and they’re interested in you.”

“And Azeem is delicious, but his mate’s got…”

“Got what?”

Portia sighed. “Got nice arms.”

Y/N leaned her head against the wall behind her, it swayed with the moving coach.

“I know it’s not all about looks.”

“It really is not.”

“But I still can’t help myself.”

“You’re such a prick.”

“Don’t be rude.” Portia nudged her sister’s shoulder. “If you’d just go out and date people as well, you’d have the same problems.”

Y/N huffed, looking at Portia. “Doubt it.”

Portia rested one leg on top of the other, examining her nails. “You’re so boring sometimes.”

“Cheers.”

“No,” Portia glanced at Y/N again. “But isn’t it boring to just be sat inside all day?”

“Oh, it’s incredibly boring to get an education.”

Portia rolled her eyes.

“Go out of my mind going to lectures, writing my dissertation, doing other assessments, and applying to thousands of jobs a day.”

Portia crossed her arms, looking ahead.

“So boring.”

“I know you pride yourself on the fact you’re gonna be a vet.”

“Shouldn’t I?”

Portia sighed, refusing to answer. The two kept quiet after that. Y/N knew in order to make Portia shut up, she just had to bring up her education. Portia was fully aware that Y/N was the smartest one out of the two of them – quite frankly, the smartest one in their entire family – and if Y/N rubbed it in, Portia would keep quiet. Reminding her sister how she’d gotten into the University of her dreams and was doing great, was a low blow, Y/N knew that. But at the same time, Portia just pissed her off so much sometimes that she simply could not help herself.

The two got up as they reached their stop at Canada Water, and walked off towards the Jubilee line once the tube doors opened. Portia’s bag kept bumping into Y/N as they walked, and though she would normally tell her to piss off, to keep her bag closer, she didn’t know. Giving Portia a reason to start shouting at her in the middle of a tube station was not ideal. She was mad enough as it was.

They got on the escalator, Y/N was just about to tell Portia what direction to walk in once they reached the bottom since her little sister always forgot, but Portia gasped before Y/N got the chance. Looking up at her sister, Portia’s eyes were wide, a small smile lingering on her lips. She pointed to the digital posters that lined the wall along the escalator, making Y/N look to her right to see what had gotten her sister all excited.

It was the colour that stood out first. She remembered the exact shade of it. The painting stood out second, then the colour of the person’s hair, the shape of their body, the shoes. The landscape, the warm colours. It was her. It was the same day she’d found Viola. The same day Harry had supposedly… No, she couldn’t even finish that thought. She’d tried not to think of him for months now. As they passed another one of the posters, she looked at it again. In white and bold letters, the text on the poster said ‘H. Styles’ exclusive and limited new exhibition. 11:00-18:00. 23rd February – 1st March. Dover Street, Mayfair. £10 admission.’

“Y/N, what the fuck?” Portia said, tapping her finger against the screen multiple times as they passed yet another one of the posters. “What the fuck?”

The exact same statement was going on repeat in Y/N’s head as well. Seeing the painting, seeing herself on that poster, it brought back so incredibly many memories from a time she had tried to forget.

Ever since they had parted ways, Y/N and Harry had only talked on a handful of occasions. They would text one another – very early on, Harry even called her twice (only after making sure the time zones weren’t fucked and she wasn’t asleep) -, and they did so for a long while, but then Harry’s answers got shorter and shorter, and Y/N felt like he might be falling out of love. She didn’t want to ask him in case she was reading too much into things, afraid of what the answer might be. She was still in love with him, would probably be so till the day she died, but she didn’t want to force him to talk to her if he wasn’t feeling it anymore.

As time went on, their text conversations got less frequent, and by Christmas, they weren’t talking at all. Y/N had tried to forget about him, thinking that he might have just viewed what they had as an intense summer romance and that was it. After all, he was a passionate and artistic man, maybe he fell in love with the thought, image, and what she represented to his summer more than her person. It all hurt to think about, which was why she rarely allowed herself to think about him at all. She hadn’t seen him in almost seven months, she was terrified of what that distance had done to them. To his heart. Because hers still longed for his in every way a person could yearn for another. It proved hard living apart from a person whose name you had etched onto the organ that kept you alive.

They reached the bottom of the escalator and the two girls stepped off, Y/N blinking a few extra times because she simply could not hold tears back when she was thinking about Harry. Portia walked beside Y/N, mouth agape.

“Y/N,” she said. “We have to go.”

Y/N sniffled, pretending it was because she’d caught a cold. “Why?”

Portia glanced at her as if she was insane.

“What?”

“Don’t even start, Y/N. We’re going. I need to see those paintings and so do you.” Portia walked onto the Jubilee tube, Y/N following straight after. They held onto a pole, and when Y/N averted her eyes to the advertisement on the walls of the coach, she saw Harry’s poster again. They were everywhere, how hadn’t she noticed them before?

“Dover Street.” Portia said. “Right by Piccadilly, innit?”

“Yeah.”

“Brill, we just jump off at Green Park and walk for like five minutes and we’ll be there.”

Y/N sighed, suddenly feeling like she needed to throw up.

Portia grinned, looking at Y/N. “I’m excited now.”

“Portia, this is a bad idea.”

“It’s a splendid idea.” Portia corrected. “I need to see all the paintings. I’m sure they’re amazing.”

Y/N had never told Portia she hadn’t seen the paintings herself, that Harry hadn’t let her. But then again, there were a lot of things she hadn’t told Portia about last summer and H. Styles. Her heart was beating way faster than normal, she was suddenly sweating. The notion that Harry might be there was overwhelming, that he had probably been in London for a while now but not contacted her made her entire body ache in a way it had never done before. Though Harry being at his own gallery didn’t make sense on any other days than the opening one, Y/N was still sick thinking about meeting him. He wouldn’t be there, but she still was wary of going.

“What’s gotten into you, you look faint.” Portia pointed out, raising her eyebrows.

“I think it’s a really bad idea to go to that exhibition.”

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Portia groaned. “These are paintings of you. You’re literally the star of the whole thing.”

Y/N shrugged.

“Besides, I don’t think we have to pay a tenner since you literally spent all summer with him so he could paint you. Free admission equals ‘why the fuck not’.”

Would Harry even want her there? They hadn’t talked after all; he hadn’t told her he was in London. Maybe he didn’t want her to come see the paintings. Maybe he just wanted her to stay away.

She hated how much she was overthinking this. The last thing she wanted to do was step on Harry’s toes, especially now that they hadn’t spoken in a while. Especially because she loved him and was afraid he didn’t anymore. However, realising the reason she was overthinking in the first place, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes. It was because Harry meant so much to her. Never could she face him now without knowing if he felt the same way about her.

Portia dragged Y/N off at Green Park, walking towards the exit with an excited gleam in her eyes. Y/N’s stomach hurt so much she didn’t know what to do. She wanted to lay down in a foetal position and die. This was all so sudden, so overwhelming. They exited the underground, and as they reached the outside again, the sun was shining and the wind didn’t seem as horrible. It didn’t ease Y/N’s nerves one bit, though.

It took them a total of three minutes to reach Dover Street, and the exhibition was one of the first things that caught Y/N’s eyes. The entire front was made of glass, covered in a baby blue sheet that read ‘H. Styles’ new exclusive exhibition.’ Portia gripped Y/N’s arm, squealing before she looked both ways and crossed the street. Y/N knew Dover Street was known for having numerous contemporary art galleries, but looking down the street, none stood out as much as Harry’s. It was impossible to view any of the paintings through the windows, undoubtedly leaving people wanting to pay the 10 quid to do just that. Y/N was torn between actually wanting to walk inside or sprint back to Hackney.

“Why’re you hesitating? Come on!” Portia took Y/N’s hand and opened the door with the other, forcing Y/N in first.

The reception was dark, absolutely everything covered in black from the floor to the ceiling. There was nothing on the walls, nothing that stood out. But in the middle of the room stood another black wall, covering the proper entrance to the actual exhibition. In front of it stood a reception desk in the same colour, and behind it sat an old man, but he was accompanied by a figure Y/N recognised right away. Portia walked straight up to the desk, a huge smile on her face.

“Good afternoon, miss,” the old man said, smiling right back at her.

“Hi, my sister and I would love to just enter the exhibition, please.”

“20 pounds, then.” Jamie said, standing bent over a pile of papers that they were signing and reading over.

“No, you don’t understand,” Portia started, turning around and beckoning Y/N over. “My sister is a good friend of H. Styles.”

Jamie looked up, their eyes immediately landing on Y/N. And just like that, she was brought right back to last summer and everything Jamie had told Harry on one of her last nights there. So many memories washed over her that it made her a little dizzy. The car rides where she and Jamie would sit in the backseat and discuss animals, life, or anything else that would’ve caught their attention. The other times when they’d wait for Harry to get ready downstairs. She didn’t know how to act. Did she give them a hug? Did she smile? Did she say something? This was exactly why she didn’t want to go.

“Y/N,” Jamie said, standing up straight.

“So you recognise her!” Portia was elated. “Can we just walk on in then?”

Jamie and Y/N didn’t break eye contact, both at a loss for words. It was clear that something went down between them, that there was something unspoken in the air of the reception hall. Y/N looked away, not wanting to have Portia ask her about Jamie once they entered the gallery. She didn’t want to tell her; didn’t want to recount anything from her time in Italy.

“Yeah,” Jamie hastily reached for two brochures, locking eyes with Y/N again as he handed them to her. Portia raised her eyebrows, catching on that something was going on. She looked at Y/N. “Don’t take any photographs, if any of our guards see you do so, you will be asked to leave and pay a fine. Other than that, I hope you enjoy.” Y/N knew they were talking to both her and Portia, but by the look in their eyes, she felt as though they were talking to her alone.

“Thank you very much.” Portia smiled, taking one of the brochures and walking away from them.

Y/N looked at the brochure, just as baby blue as the sheet that had covered the front of the gallery, the same writing on it as well. Her eyes met Jamie’s again, and there was something about the way they glanced at her that was so sad. Somewhere in the wrinkle between their eyebrows Y/N saw an apology of sorts. Regret so deep and intense that she could feel it herself. They didn’t say anything, but Y/N felt the agony; saw something in their eyes that she hadn’t experienced herself, but that they needed her to see. She gave them a small smile before following Portia and walking around the wall behind the reception desk, keeping her eyes on the brochure in her hands.

If meeting Jamie had her shaken up this bad, she didn’t even want to begin to think what an encounter with Harry would bring. The leaflet was shaking in her hand, begging for her to open it. What would it even hold? Copies of the paintings? No, if they weren’t allowed to take pictures inside, why would he have them attached in leaflets for anyone to see?

“Oh, my word.” Portia said, making Y/N look up.

The entrance to the gallery had her halting. Just like everything else, she recognised it right away. All over the wall was a painting she’d seen on her first week last summer; seen on one of her last days when she’d shown it to Harry.

“When I first moved into the flat, I found a painting in this wardrobe.” She pulled it down, taking a glance at the autumn painting depicting a gravel path leading nowhere into darkness. Turning around, she walked back over to the bed, handing the painting to Harry. “That’s only one of like, two of your paintings I’ve really seen, other was one of the sea back in your house. Mind if I ask what inspired this one?”

A projector planted it on the dark surface, welcoming the guests to the gallery. A gravel path leading off far into the dark distance, tall oak trees surrounding it, filled with the rich colours of autumn. Though it was filled with yellow and green, two colours that would normally have positive connotations, Y/N couldn’t help but get quite the opposite vibes staring at it, just like all the other times she’d seen it. There was something about it she couldn’t put her finger on. Like there laid a secret at the end of the path; an explanation in the black of the unknown.

“It’s the drive to my house back in Manchester. The drive up to my childhood home, or… this is facing the other way.” He explained, dragging his finger gently along the gravel path. “It’s what you see when you’re leaving.” He shifted the attention of his finger to the trees of different colours. “Autumn, the dull colours…” he trailed off, as if reliving a memory he’d almost suppressed; something he’d pushed so far into the back of his head it had almost vaporised and disappeared into nothingness. “This was when I left home, when I first moved to London.” He pointed at the darkness at the end of the gravel path. “That’s the end of the road, I couldn’t make it out clearly. My future, I mean. It’s all supposed to represent uncertainty.”

Portia looked over her shoulder at Y/N, squealing. The darkness at the end of the painting was a hallway, a dark corridor that seemed to be leading off into nowhere. Her sister stood there waiting for her, reaching her hand out so they could walk through the darkness together. But Y/N needed to take a moment and just look at the wall, because it was one of the very first of his paintings she’d ever seen, and now she was about to see all of the other paintings he had refused to let her see. Taking a deep breath, she walked forward, took Portia’s hand, and the two walked into the dark hallway. Y/N felt her grip on Portia’s hand tighten for each step they took

“Why didn’t they just put some bloody lights in here?-“

But just as Portia said that, the exhibition was revealed to them. It was black. Dim white lights lit up the room on the walls and ceiling, illuminating the floating balls that were lined up down the room. Looking at the walls first, Y/N realised the light appeared as stars. Dotted along the walls and ceiling, lighting up the room and revealing the huge round objects that appeared to be floating, but was held from the ceiling and the floor by metal poles. The first one was completely dark, and as the two sisters walked on closer, Portia gasped a little.

“Y/N,”

“What?”

“How many planets are there in our Solar System?”

Y/N frowned, but as her eyes met Portia’s she understood immediately. Taking a step to the side, she looked down the room, seeing that there were quite a few others visiting the gallery as well. Harry was an immense painter, after all. Everyone knew who he was. However, Y/N couldn’t focus on the other people in the room with her, she started counting the different sized round objects that were nicely lined.

“Eight.” Y/N answered.

“And how many-“

“-Eight.”

Portia squeezed Y/N’s hand, eyes wide with some kind of realisation. The sisters looked at one another for a minute before Portia opened her mouth to speak again.

“Why the fuck has he done that, Y/N?”

Y/N shook her head. “Dunno.-“

“-You do.” Portia said. “That’s why that person back there looked at you all intense as well, wasn’t it? What happened last summer? You never spoke of it.”

Y/N sighed, closing her eyes. “Portia, it’s… it’s incredibly complicated and… and it’s a long story.”

Portia groaned, clinging to Y/N’s arm. “I don’t care, Y/N. I want to know. For fuck’s sake, look around you,”

Y/N opened her eyes, doing as her sister told her to.

“It’s so painfully obvious, Y/N.”

Y/N refused to believe it was. She didn’t want to believe that what Portia was insinuating was true, because it would mean the last few months had been for nothing. It would mean the countless hours she’d cried, the times she stopped herself from thinking about him, from yearning for him, from going back to a time spent with him and cursing herself for doing so; it was not worth it. Trying to forget him had meant nothing.

Portia tapped Y/N’s arm, catching her attention. She gestured at the painting they stood in front of, giving Y/N a little smile. Y/N looked at it, and she was immediately taken back to the exact moment of it.

There was a hole in the planet in the shape of the canvas, white light washing over it to reveal it completely to the gallery visitors. Portia opened the catalogue as Y/N studied the painting Harry had never let her view. His first painting of her.

“Miss Sweeney,” Harry said, pointing at the hill. “You-“

“-You can just call me Y/N.”

“You need to stand far away.”

Shocking. But there was no use making that comment. She took her cardigan off, putting it along with her purse in the backseat of the car.

“You will find a tree further down if you just walk straight ahead, it’s got a blue ribbon on it. Stop there with your back facing me. And don’t move until I tell you so.”

As she started walking down the hill, she could feel Harry watching her, studying her every move and every surface of her body. She supposed he wanted to make sure she found the ribbon, as well as to see what he was working with.

An abundance of colours surrounded her; green, grey, yellow, brown. She could barely make out the baby blue dress amongst the nature swallowing her, there was no way of knowing the colour of her hair, the proper colour of her skin, or any of her characteristics. The only thing that stood out was the colour of her dress, but even that wasn’t as prominent as she remembered the colour to be.

“Won’t that smear the paint everywhere?”

Harry looked at her, those two familiar lines appearing between his brows. “How?”

“Shouldn’t it be left to dry or something?”

“It’s dry.”

She frowned back at him. “Already?”

“I finished a while ago, left it to dry for around an hour.”

The memory made her smile some, regardless of how infuriated she remembered being. It was the fact that they had started out like that; polar opposites with absolutely nothing in common. Two people who couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. That fact was easy to note in the first painting, seeing the insignificant role she played in the actual painting. The Tuscan landscape could’ve done fine without her presence in it, she wasn’t even placed in the middle of the painting where nature parted to reveal Fosdinovo, but somewhere to the right of it, in the middle of the trees.

Portia tugged at Y/N’s sleeve, motioning for her to follow her to the next painting behind the first one. It was the same as the first one; a rectangle shaped hole in the dark planet, lights surrounding it to show it off. She smiled again.

“It’s beautiful here.”

“Do you see that rock over there?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Sit there facing me.”

She knew there was no use saying anything back, so she simply walked over to the rock and sat down like he wanted her to. It wasn’t comfortable to sit on, and she didn’t think she’d be able to sit there for two hours straight. Then again if she decided she needed a break, the painter would undoubtedly show his annoyance in some way. He instructed her to straighten her legs, crossing them at the ankle, leaning back on her hands. He said he wanted her to “be looking directly into the sun.”

“That could literally ruin my eyes.”

“Art goes beyond comfort.”

“I want to be able to see said art.”

Y/N felt like she was transported right back to the moment of the painting, like she could feel, see, smell everything. Though she had known that would probably be the effect once she saw the collection, she hadn’t been aware it would be this intense. The notion Harry had painted these of her; that he had painted them before, during, and after everything happened between them, it struck her. He’d been working on these for so long; she had been a forced part of his life for so long. Maybe that was why they’d stopped talking. He’d gotten tired of her. Gotten enough of her.

The colour of her dress was the same as the previous painting; it stood out, but not in a contrasting way like you thought the colour of baby blue would when surrounded by woods. The white sunlight lit up most of her surroundings, making them blend well with the dress, but then again, she could recall quite clearly how bright the sun had been that day. Though she had hated the heat of the Italian weather in the beginning, towards the end she’d gotten kind of used to it. It was almost cold coming back home to a normal British summer.

Y/N groaned, positioning her head like he wanted her to. “Went to this baker Wednesday.” It just slipped out. She had genuinely not meant to say it, but now that she’d already mentioned it, she might as well go all the way.

Harry didn’t respond.

“Said you were known around town as the grumpy Brit.”

She didn’t see him stop painting, but she could tell he halted a little. “Who said that?”

Trying not to smile as she had somehow managed to capture his attention. “Does it matter?” Y/N didn’t know why people wanted to know what someone else thought of them. It was out of their control. Then again, she supposed, she’d brought it up so it was partly her fault he asked in the first place.

Harry huffed.

“What?”

“Hm?”

“What was the –“ Y/N imitated his exasperated huff.

“Whoever said that,” Harry said, bending down a bit and disappearing completely behind the canvas. “They’re a fucking knobhead.”

Y/N nodded her head, pursing her lips before she clicked her tongue loudly. Harry glanced up. “Great argument.”

It was weird how there had been a time prior to how she was feeling now. That at the time of this painting, she hadn’t been in love with Harry. The hands that had created this artwork hadn’t yet touched her; hadn’t yet loved her. She wanted to reach through the glass that separated the canvas from them; wanted to feel the paint and the memories that came with it.

But Portia was impatient, having already started walking around the planet to the next one. She looked down into the brochure, a furrow to her brows and concentration on her face as she read something on it before taking in the third painting. This was the one Y/N almost remembered best. This was the one that changed her and Harry’s relationship in a way neither of them was made aware of till after. You don’t realise the pivotal moments in your life till after they’ve happened, but as they’re happening, you don’t understand their incredible impact. Harry nor Y/N knew how big of a role Viola would play in their lives. What her presence would do to them.

“Is that a smile I see?” she teased. “You got a rise out of me, and now you’re pleased with yourself?”

He bit his bottom lip, shaking his head without looking away from the painting before him.

“Right then.” Y/N said, eager to get the conversation going again. “What’re you best at? There’s a lot of stuff you can do with gymnastics, innit?”

Harry wasted no time. “Swing bar.”

Y/N’s eyebrows immediately shot upward. Trying to be subtle, she let her eyes fall to his muscular arms, his broad shoulders and the curve of his slight biceps. The tan he’d gotten did wonders to the outline of his muscles. Stop, stop, stop-

“Explains the arms.”

Oh. My. God. Immediately she felt her cheeks heat up. And her blushing got worse when Harry looked up at her. He huffed.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’ve been checking me out.”

She rolled her eyes. “I have not.”

She walked closer, feeling her bottom lip start to wobble as she saw the painting. Harry had depicted the cliff, the ocean, the forest, the atmosphere of that clifftop perfectly. It was exactly as she remembered it. Just looking at it brought her back to finding Viola, to watching Harry pet her to calm her down, the closeness in the back of Gioele’s car. How willing Harry was to help. How good he’d smelled. How hot his skin had been against hers. That was the first time she’d ever seen him smile; first time she’d seen him happy. It was the first time she saw him show compassion; saw him worry. She hadn’t known then, but she knew for certain now, that if Viola hadn’t stepped out of the woods at that second on that day while Harry and Y/N hadn’t been talking, then none of this would’ve happened.

“What?” His voice was a whisper, the small word leaving his lips like a simple puff of air that hit her jaw, sending a storm of goosebumps up and down her back.

“Your…” she started, swallowing thickly before looking down at the cat in her arms. “Your moped.”

“I’ll get it later.”

She hated that he sounded like he wasn’t faced by the close proximity at all.

“What if someone steals your painting?”

Looking up at him, she realised once again how close they were. They might have been close earlier when he helped calm the cat down outside, but this… this was close. She felt his hot breath against her lips, in her nose; felt his eyes on her like there was nowhere else to look in the car; felt everything too much. He was… so handsome. So incredibly good looking. There was undoubtedly sweat along her hairline and cupid bow, but she literally could not reach up to remove it right now. She was unable to move, not only because of the cat, but because of Harry.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Y/N,” Portia said, pointing at the painting. “What’s that?”

Y/N walked over, looking at what Portia had asked her about. Though she didn’t see it at first, having mistaken it for a dark rock or something alike, Y/N gasped a little when she realised what it was. Small pointy ears, fur a dark brown with some striped black and desert brown and a tail swaying upward. The cat was so tiny, hidden amongst the tall grass by the forest, looking at Y/N with big pleading eyes. Y/N had almost forgotten what Viola looked like, but seeing her on the canvas, it was like being back in Fosdinovo, walking the cobblestoned streets with the little kitten following her every step.

“Viola.” Y/N answered, blinking a few times as her eyesight started to blur.

“What?”

“A cat.”

“A live one?”

“I, uhh,” Y/N nodded. “The day of that painting we found an injured cat in the woods and brought her to the nearest vet so I could help nurse her. She’d broken her foot.”

Portia looked at Y/N, raising her eyebrows. “And you called her Viola?”

“Yeah,” Y/N didn’t take her eyes off the cat. “She stayed with me the rest of the summer.”

Portia turned to face her sister. “Where is she now?”

“Dunno.” Y/N sighed. “I… dunno.”

Y/N looked at Portia, giving her a little smile before walking towards the next painting. Looking at Viola and knowing that she’d left the cat in Harry’s house in Fosdinovo, also knowing Harry had most likely moved out of the Italian mountain village, it hurt. She had no idea what happened to the cat after she left. Absolutely no idea of how she was doing or who was taking care of her now. There were many times when Y/N had cursed herself for not bringing Viola back home with her. After all, they had created a little bond between them that Y/N now realised would stay with her forever.

Walking up to the fourth painting, Y/N felt herself halt some, watching as Portia walked right up to it to study it properly. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because Harry had taught her about how he painted during the summer, if she was getting an eye for these things, or if she was just that observant, but she could swear there was something about this one that set it apart from the other few she’d seen up till now.

It dawned on her that for each painting, her figure had gotten closer and closer to Harry. As if the focus shifted from the nature around her to her alone. From far away in the first one, to taking up the whole lower half of the canvas in this fourth one. Her figure was the first thing you saw. The baby blue dress that only barely covered her bum, her bare legs, her white knee socks, her white docs.

“Don’t bend your knee that much.”

Y/N readjusted her knee.

“No.”

“Then how?!”

The grass shifted behind her, and looking to her right, she noticed Harry walking over. For some reason, Harry getting closer got her heart beating so hard she heard it in her ears and her muscles tensing. He sat down before her, a concentrated furrow to his brows that wasn’t at all intimidating. He just looked focused, deep inside his own head, constructing and planning his new painting.

For some reason, she hadn’t thought of the reason for Harry coming over, only that he was. So when he reached for her leg, she almost jumped.

She blinked as she remembered the first time Harry touched her willingly like that. How he had barked orders at her in the beginning, to coming over and moving her leg like he’d done. It made her thigh seem very cold all of a sudden.

“You’re not being serious right now.” Portia hissed, sliding her finger in the air along with the outline of the mountains at the far back of the painting.

They were dark against the pink, orange, and blue sky, so was the forest, making Y/N stand out majestically against everything else. The hint of a small white outline in the sky showed the presence of the early moon, welcoming the oncoming night. Y/N couldn’t remember seeing the moon that afternoon, but then again, she didn’t remember much besides the fact that she laughed with Harry that day and he touched her bare thigh. But Portia had miraculously seen what had captured Y/N’s attention as well. The landscape in the painting, though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it resembled her figure. It swayed where her hips did; dipped where her legs did. It did so in a natural manner, Harry had made them seem like actual mountains and not just a replica of her curves, but Y/N couldn’t see anything else.

“The blue,” Portia said, pointing at Y/N’s dress and then at the slight streak of blue in the sky. “Kinda looks alike, does it not?”

Y/N didn’t pay much attention to it. She started walking away, eager to see the next painting, which she knew was a very special one because it might be the one she remembered the most clearly. As she rounded the planet and started walking toward the fifth one, a huge white orb caught her attention. The detail in all of Harry’s creations caught her off guard, but the moon she was looking at right now looked so real it took her breath away. She saw herself standing in the water; saw the baby blue dress; the knee socks and her Dr Marten’s in the sand. It all looked like a photograph, only the moon was abnormally big. But all his paintings looked so real it was almost like if you stripped the display of the glass protection, you could walk right into the world he’d created on the canvas and live there forever.

“What about you?” he asked again, voice low like a mumble.

Y/N hoped he couldn’t tell how fast her heart was hammering, how every nerve in her entire body was on high alert, how every cell was screaming for him to get closer. “What about me?”

“You’re never as alone as your head makes you believe. The moon is always there.” He said, eyes searching her face. “What about you?”

“Will I always be there?”

He just looked at her, clearly thinking that his look was answer enough.

Her breath hitched somewhere in her throat, and she hoped the rush of emotions that was running through her didn’t show on her face. Portia looked at her with an open mouth before taking in the fifth painting. Y/N knew exactly how her sister was feeling; that overwhelming need to ask herself and everyone else in the room if this was an actual painting, or something from someone’s most desired fantasy captured exactly as it was and printed onto canvas. And maybe it was. But Harry had taken days, weeks, months to finish these paintings, Y/N knew. She remembered those times when she’d watch him paint and he’d refuse to let her see them. She didn’t know why he didn’t want her to see them.

It was so beautiful it was hard to believe someone had made it; it just seemed too celestial for it to be real. She wanted to touch it where Harry had touched it, feel the strokes he’d made, the lines of paint. There was something about this one that sent a shock of pain through her heart no medicine could cure.

“I’d stay up only to get a small glimpse of you.”

She balled her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her skin to hold herself back from crying. Because all she could remember was how fast Harry had kissed her back when she’d kissed him, the feeling of his lips against hers, and the taste of peach tea on his tongue. His hands roaming her body, gripping onto her thighs as she hooked her legs around his waist. His body against hers, their cells mingling, the moon shining her white light down on them, and the ocean swaying around them.

Portia walked around the planet and onto the next one, and giving the moon one last glance, Y/N followed her. Y/N couldn’t even remember this one. Maybe it was because everything that happened after the wedding blurred together, or maybe she’d just not thought about it enough for it to take up space in her head. But as she got closer, the idea of her being a model for this painting seemed unlikely.

The canvas was black as night, a huge moon in the centre of it like the one before. A figure was floating in the middle of the white moon, a baby blue gown clinging to its form and floating up behind them like they were sinking. As she got closer, Y/N saw that this wasn’t her. All the other paintings were of her, but this one wasn’t. This was Harry.

His arms were floating at an almost 90-degree angle, the baby blue gown hovering behind his arms and torso, just barely covering some of his thighs and crotch. One of his knees was bent a bit more than the other, and the tattoos he had up and down his muscular legs were very visible, making Y/N think back to a time she’d been allowed to touch them. His neck was craned backward, eyes closed and mouth parted ever so slightly, bubbles of air leaving him and making a hasty return for the water’s surface. She remembered his fright of the dark, how much he hated the ocean, but his facial expression showed one of peace. He didn’t seem afraid; didn’t seem like he dreaded any of it. It seemed like he was okay; ready to reach tranquillity and the ultimate meaning to life. He was surrendering himself, it seemed.

“Y/N, I swear to you,” Portia said, pointing at different places on the painting. “Look.”

“At what?”

“You mean you don’t see it?”

“See what, Portia?” Y/N knew she must sound irritated, but with everything going on and all the emotions she was feeling at once, she simply could not hold her anger back.

“The painting,” Portia directed Y/N’s attention back to the canvas. “Do you see?”

Y/N took a closer look.

“Do you see all the blue?”

And it was like her little sister flicked a switch, and suddenly, Y/N saw it. Blue. Baby blue. It was hidden in the waves along the top of the painting, in the shadows of the water, in and around the moon, in his hair, his body, his gown. Taking a few steps back, Y/N wondered how she hadn’t picked up on the blue right away. It was all over the painting. Most of the details on that canvas were baby blue.

Quickly, Y/N walked all the way back to the first painting. Portia just watched her, unsure what was going on, but not wanting to interrupt something if Y/N had come to some sort of realisation.

The only blue in the first one was her dress, in the second one, the sky resembled her dress some. In the third, the sky, ocean, and a bit of the grass surrounding her held the same colour as her and her dress, and in the fourth the landscape swayed along with her form, the sky, the woods, and certain highlights were the exact colour of the dress. How hadn’t she seen it all the first time around? Because once she took a few steps back, the baby blue stood out starkly against everything else. Marching straight past the fifth and the sixth, Y/N wanted to see the last two. Because the second to last put the finishing touch on everything.

The entire canvas was baby blue. Her form was outlined in white, but none of her features were shown. Her breasts, face, or any other part of her body was not included. But Y/N would remember that exact pose till the day she died and long after that also. Because it was the one where Harry had drawn on her; her arms above her head, her knee bent, leg resting over the other. She wondered if this had been the one he’d painted when she laid on the floor of his loft, but why had he been so incredibly detailed when he painted on her if he was just going to erase it forever? Not include it in one of his masterpieces? It didn’t make any sense.

“You let him draw you like one of his bloody French girls.” Portia hissed, about to burst out laughing when she stopped herself. The room was silent as people walked through the exhibition, neither of them wanted to be thrown out or something to that effect.

Y/N looked at her sister. “Yes.”

Portia’s eyes got wide. “Shut the fuck up.”

“He painted on me.”

“Shut. Up.”

Y/N glanced at the painting again, noting that the only thing on that canvas was the very careful outline of her.

“Exactly how well did you fuck him for him to do that?”

“Portia!” Y/N hissed. “Leave off.”

“I’m serious, Y/N, this seems like the summer of your entire life.” Portia smiled, raising her eyebrows suggestively. “Did he do you good at least?”

Y/N only gave her a look.

“Oh, come on.” Portia pouted. “I just found out my sister has been shagging with my boss all summer, I want the deets.”

“Can that happen another time? I’m a little busy-“ Y/N gestured around her and Portia nodded, clearly eager to be done here so she could hear Y/N explain everything to her over the phone on her commute home.

“You know,” Portia started, holding up the leaflet. “If you’d just bothered and taken the time to look in the brochure, there’s a lot of information about all the paintings.”

Y/N frowned.

“I kind of had my suspicions about the two of you before you even said something just now.”

Y/N looked down at her brochure, reading the front of it again as she walked toward the last painting. She wanted to go through everything one more time and read the leaflet, she needed to know all the details and all the reasons why Harry had done what he’d done. When she glanced up again, the first thing she noticed was how the planet surrounding the canvas was glowing. A dark golden colour, looking a little like the moon, but as if it was on fire on the inside, the surface of it pure gold. She turned around and looked down the row of planets, meeting Portia’s eyes right after.

“The first one is black,” Portia said. “And the last one is golden.”

Y/N felt her heart hammering faster, felt herself begin to sweat.

“With each planet, you slowly fade into-“

“-Venus.” She finished, looking at the last planet she’d been named after. Y/N Venus Sweeney. She was so overwhelmed she felt a little faint, though she hadn’t known what to expect from the exhibition, this – all of it – was not it. She didn’t want to draw conclusions and think this whole collection was about her, but right now, looking at everything around her, it was hard to think anything else.

She still had one more painting to go, so she grabbed the leaflet and walked to stand in front of it. Instantly, she remembered it. She’d seen this one before. It seemed like ages ago, but she had seen this painting. It was the same one Gioele had stolen from Harry’s house and given to Salvatore and Carina as a wedding gift. Y/N had no idea why that one would be in the collection, what had made Harry put it there. She was just about to open the brochure and read what it said about this particular one when she heard a commotion behind her. The screeching of joggers against the floor as if someone was running, some gasps, Jamie shouting something.

Y/N turned around, and she recognised him right away. Her heart immediately started screaming his name. He walked down the row of planets in a haste, frantically scanning the crowds surrounding each quickly till he came to the last one where she stood. He stopped abruptly as his eyes landed on hers, a sigh of relief leaving him in between pants for air. Had he been running? Quickly, he swallowed, trying to regain his composure before he did anything. While he did that, Y/N took him in.

His hair had grown, he must’ve trimmed it some since last summer, but his curls were lush, his hair thick, and just as brown as she remembered it. He was wearing a colour-block patchwork cardigan with all the colours of the rainbow, a white tee shirt with some blue artwork printed on it, washed denim jeans, and his signature pink Converse. He looked healthy, maybe not as tan as she remembered him to be, but he looked good. He looked like the same Harry she had fallen in love with back then; it was still him. He was here. Right before her. After months apart, he was here.

“Y/N.” He said, voice faint as he took a reluctant step forward. It was like he realised what he was doing – getting closer to her when he had no idea if she still wanted that - and was almost about to take a step backward again but stopped himself.

She was unable to say anything at all. One second she had been about to take in the last painting of the collection, and the next Harry had rushed into his gallery and now he stood right in front of her. It didn’t seem real. The months they hadn’t talked, the months they hadn’t seen each other. They all hung in the air between them, pushed them apart from one another; demanding them to keep separated. She wanted to defy their distance, wanted to fling herself into his arms and melt into him like she had done so many times before, but the uncertainty, the separation, and the many curious eyes watching them stopped her.

Harry was about to say something else when his eyes fell on something behind her, clamping his mouth shut.

“Hi,” Portia said. “Don’t know if you remember me.”

“I-I do, I…” Harry’s eyes fell to Y/N again as he trailed off, glancing back at Portia after clearing his throat. “Portia.”

“And you’re H. Styles.” Y/N could hear the smile in Portia’s voice, and Y/N knew instantly she was taking the piss, telling Harry she knew exactly who he was and why he was here. Whispers were heard, as if the visitors all suddenly realised who they were looking at. Someone gasped and someone on the other side of the room started walking closer. Harry looked around him as if he just understood what he’d done by coming here. Their eyes met again, and Harry let out a sigh.

“Can we talk?” he asked, eyes big and pleading. “Please.”

Y/N looked at everyone around them, then back at Harry, hoping he’d understand that she didn’t want to do it in front of everyone else. Taking a few steps backward, Harry began walking towards the exit of the exhibition, making sure Y/N caught up with him before he started walking normally. Y/N glanced at Portia over her shoulder, but Portia was grinning so widely Y/N knew her sister was okay with her leaving her behind for a bit.

The next room they entered was just as dark as the first one, but the paintings were huge projections onto the walls, ceiling, and floor, showcasing all the details each of them portrayed. Harry walked quickly through the room, having seen this multiple times before – having created this -, but Y/N slowed. The attention to detail was incredible; it looked so real, yet it still looked like art. She was never able to really put her finger on it, but then again, she supposed that was what creativity was. The lines between what was certain and what was a craft from someone’s imagination, blurred to the point of doubt, yet it’s human nature to find an explanation for everything; but in art we find an excuse not to have one. Maybe that was what drew people to it; it was real, but not real enough to need reason.

He held the door open for her, leading her to a smoking area in the back of the gallery. Two trees rose up, some dead grass sprung up between the stone flooring, and, thankfully, no one was there. The sun was still shining, and somewhere not too far off, an ambulance siren was going off. It was weird to be with Harry in an environment other than quiet, warm, rural Fosdinovo, it was almost as if she associated him with the peace of the Italian countryside now. But she didn’t mind having him here in London. Not in the least. In fact, she liked it very much.

“Y/N,” he repeated, almost as if he didn’t really know what else to say; almost as if he had to repeat her name over and over and over again to tell himself that she was really here. He just looked at her, studying her intently, probably to make sure she was okay.

“I didn’t know…” she started, blinking a few times. “Didn’t know you were in London.”

“I’m in London.”

“But I didn’t know you were.”

“But I am.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

Harry sighed. “No.”

“Why?”

Harry opened his mouth but hesitated. “I… I just… It’s not as if I…” he ran a hand through his hair, sighing again. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to.”

She frowned. “What made you think that?”

“We haven’t talked in a couple of months, have we? Maybe you’d forgotten about me.”

“You think I’d forgotten about you?” Y/N crossed her arms. “I’m not the one who got disinterested and pulled away.”

Harry’s face screwed up into that familiar scowl she had seen so many times before. “I never bloody lost interest, what’re you on about?”

“Seemed that way over text.”

“Those are text messages!” Harry gestured with his arms, very obviously frustrated. “How much can you tell from a text?!”

“A lot!”

Harry groaned. “Y/N, please.”

She stood her ground, looking at him and waiting for him to say something that would change her mind. How had they gone months without talking, months before that with barely any communication, and he didn’t think she’d be annoyed at him for that. She was annoyed at herself, too. It takes two to communicate.

“I don’t want to fight.” He said. “I… I just… I don’t want to fight. Can we just talk?”

“We’re talking.”

Harry’s eyes fell to the ground, nodding a bit before he dared look up at her. “What’ve you been up to?”

Though she wanted to yell at him, tell him that she’d been busy writing and researching her dissertation, that she had been busy missing him, she composed herself. She might be frustrated, but Harry was trying, so she should as well.

“Uni,” she simply said. “And you?”

Harry let out a short breath through his nose. “Figured, stupid question, really.”

She couldn’t help the slight tug at the edge of her lips.

“Been travelling the world, showing off the exhibition.” He gestured back at the gallery. “It’s been wonderful, but I’m glad it’s over now. Can relax for a bit before I start painting for clients again.”

“It’s quite the exhibit.”

Harry nodded.

“Almost a little too extra.”

He let out a chuckle, eyes falling to the ground again. “You think?”

“Wasn’t it hard travelling around with all of that?” Y/N asked, thinking about the huge planets – or rather Venuses – back in the exhibition. Seemed unlikely that they travelled far distances with all of that, but then again, what did she know, she hadn’t talked to him in a long while. And when they did talk, it wasn’t about the transportation of his collection from country to country because he never talked about it.

“No, we drove around most of the time, then by plane when it got to travelling from continent to continent.”

She nodded. “Fair enough.”

His eyes flicked between hers, inhaling slowly. The sun hit the top of his hair, making his locks shine like gold, and Y/N remembered the countless number of times before she’d seen his hair like that in the early morning light, or a bright sunset. Memories are supposed to bring you joy, especially those remembered with fondness, but those are also the ones that hurt the most to relive.

“Are we really gonna chat about anything but what we want to chat about?” Harry asked, face very serious all of a sudden.

“Which is?”

“Us.” Harry said, something in his throat making the word almost sound choked. “And… and…”

She waited, feeling her heart beat harder in her chest.

“And us some more.”

She let out a small chuckle.

“What?”

“Start then.”

She could tell he wanted to frown at her, as if he wanted her to have a certain reaction. But he didn’t, instead he let his shoulders fall a bit, taking her in for a few moments more before he decided to start talking again.

“I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

It hurt every time he said that, as if he didn’t believe that what she’d felt this summer wasn’t half of what he had.

“Tortured me to think about you.”

She took a little step backward, not wanting to listen to him talk on about how she’d hurt him.

“But the thought of you also brought me peace, as it always has. Brought me inspiration and motivation.” He took a step closer to her. “I miss you. I’ve missed you since the day I was brought into this world, I never knew I did till I was without you.”

Those three words radiated throughout her entire body, her heart screaming them right back at his. I miss you I miss you I miss you I-

“Please don’t…” he trailed off, balling his hands into fists as if he was mad at himself for not finding the right words for what he was feeling. “Don’t leave.”

She swallowed, not wanting the hundreds of butterflies and warm feelings in her chest to get the better of her when she answered. “Don’t leave… now? In general?-“

“-Don’t leave me. If not as a lover, as a friend. I need you in my life to some capacity.”

“Harry-“

“-I’m in love with you, Y/N.” His voice was so soft, yet urgent. He needed her to feel the same way, to understand what he was talking about. “I love you.”

Every cell in her body vibrated with the effect of those words, telling Harry she felt the same. In every way one person could love another, she loved him.

“If you even feel a fragment the same, please tell me.” His eyes were so big, pleading with her.

She felt so much all at once, finding the right words – finding words at all – was difficult. Every single part of her tried, her brain working hard and fast so she wouldn’t leave him hanging. But that was exactly what she did. So overwhelmed with absolutely everything today had brought, she couldn’t do anything but feel.

Harry’s jaw visibly tensed with the lack of response. “Or don’t.”

She opened her mouth, brain working a hundred miles a second to find words for him.

“If you don’t, then that’s fine. I won’t pretend it’s not gonna hurt and I’ll need some time to come to terms with it.” He sighed, eyes falling to the ground as if he couldn’t look at her now. “I… I was terrified this would happen.”

She couldn’t just stay fucking silent, she had to say something. Speak you bloody nonce, don’t do him like this. “Harry-“

“-What I’ve been most scared about since we stopped talking is that I played an insignificant role in your life, when you played the most significant in mine.” His eyes were still on the flooring, gripping the ends of his colourful cardigan. “A part you won’t talk about with others, that you keep a secret.”

“I’m not ashamed of this summer, Harry-“

“-I feared you’d never need me like I need you.” He said, voice thick with something resembling torment. “Because I just… I know we have no power over who we end up loving, you meet someone and before you know it, they’re so important to you that imagining a life without them in it is like staring uninspired at a blank canvas. But I’ve chosen to pour every ounce of my love onto you. I’ve chosen you, and I’ll continue to choose you without hesitation and without fail, for the rest of my life.”

She felt her eyes sting, fearing that she’d start crying if he continued on talking. Why was it that before their first kiss, Harry hadn’t been one for talking, but after it he hadn’t dithered? Everything he’d told her since had been so heartfelt and true, she felt like he was putting words to her very own feelings.

The right words wouldn’t come, and she felt like the longer she left him standing there in silence, the longer she let him ramble on, the more catastrophic this would get. Because she felt the same for him, but what she felt was so enormous and she was afraid she’d never find words for it. She wasn’t one for art or expression. She studied science and medicine and animals, she knew all that, but she didn’t know how to tell someone like Harry what he wanted to hear. Most of the time, at least before, he didn’t need her to say anything. Her presence, her touch, her comfort was enough for him. He never expected anything else from her but to reciprocate his feelings. Which she did. Oh, did she love him. More than she thought possible.

“I-“ she started, but cut herself off as she didn’t know where it was going. Harry looked up at her instantly, instant hope in his eyes. “Your exhibit.”

Not the appropriate thing to be talking about right now, she thought to herself, but better than nothing.

“Could you explain it to me?”

He blinked. “Explain it?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling every surface of her body heat up. “Because I knew you were painting me, but I didn’t…”

His eyes lingered on her lips for a second, but he quickly composed himself, a slight redness appearing along his cheekbones. A wave of goosebumps ran up her spine.

“I didn’t expect…”

“Didn’t expect the whole exhibition to be about you?”

She just looked at him, biting her bottom lip.

Harry let out an amused chuckle. “You’re the smartest person I know, thought you might get it right away, to be completely honest with you.”

“It took me off guard.”

“Right, should I walk you through it, then?” Harry gestured at the gallery. “Want to see it?”

She sensed irritation in his voice and sighed. “You don’t have-“

“-Don’t fucking say I don’t have to. You asked about the exhibit. You don’t understand, even though I just made it very clear for you. So, let's.”

He walked toward the door, flinging it open and beckoning for Y/N to walk through it first. Walking first, he stomped straight through the entire exhibition, right past people who were leaving. They all looked over at Y/N and Harry as they walked the opposite way, a few raised eyebrows and some whispering. Portia still stood in the first room with the eight planets, looking up as Y/N and Harry came back. A smile first graced her features, but seeing the look on Harry’s face and how fast they were both walking, she quickly pieced together that something was happening.

“This,” Harry said as they reached the reception, pointing at the wall with the projection of that painting Y/N had found in the flat in Fosdinovo. The drive to his childhood home in Manchester. “You recognise this?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

She gave him a look to tell him she didn’t appreciate his tone. He didn’t seem to care.

“Told you the path leads to uncertainty, hence the darkness at the end of it. I didn’t know where my life would lead me and I was terrified. Now,” he pointed to the dark corridor. “What does that lead to?”

Y/N blinked a few times, looking up at Harry when he didn’t continue talking. But he was already glancing down at her, raised eyebrows and a stoic look on his face. Though she was tempted to tell him to shove it if he was going to keep that attitude up, she didn’t. She needed to tell him how she felt, that he wasn’t alone in wanting more. She needed to find the right words. But right now, knowing Harry, he’d just get furious with her if she told him now that he was putting the effort in and showing her what everything meant.

“The paintings.”

“It leads to the exhibition.”

“That’s the same thing.”

Harry didn’t respond, he just walked towards the corridor without looking back. Y/N felt her anger bubble up, but she tried to control it as she followed him to the first room of the exhibition.

“Hope you know what the solar system is.” Harry shouted back to her.

She dug her nails into the palm of her hands, gritting her teeth from responding. Portia was standing at the other side of the room, watching them with wide eyes. Everyone else had left, she realised. The gallery was closing, and Harry’s exhibition needed to be taken down so the next one could be put up. This was his very last day showing his collection. Y/N gave her a look to keep quiet, the last thing Harry needed now was Portia intervening.

“Our solar system’s got eight planets-“

“-I bloody know how many planets there are in our solar system-“

“-But to me and my life,” Harry walked to the side of the room, pointing down at the last planet. The full Venus. Her plant. “In my universe, there’s only one.”

She didn’t know what to say to that.

“They each fade more and more into Venus. Notice how the first one’s black.”

“Like the end of the painting I found in Fosdinovo.”

Harry’s arm fell to his side, having proven his point on why he’d chosen space to be the theme for his exhibition. He walked on over to the first painting; straight past Y/N, jaw still tense and the look in his eyes enraged. She realised this was torturing him. Going through everything without knowing how she felt, and probably fearing – and believing – the worst. She had to say something.

“This one,” he pointed. “We can barely see you. You were a fucking pain in my arse.”

“Hey!”

“There’s only one dot of baby blue, you’re far away from where I’m standing.”

“If you don’t-“

“-Next one,” he walked onto the second one without Y/N even having reached him and the first painting. “You’re closer to me, still not very close, still not a lot of blue. Only some in the sky. Didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Harry, slow down-“

“-Third,” it seemed he was on a mission, wanting this to be over with as quickly as possible. “You’re close. You can see baby blue in the sky, ocean, your dress, some in the grass. Still not doing it on purpose.”

She jogged over to the fourth as he did, really wanting to take a grip of his arm and tell him to calm down. But she had no right. Not now. But she was still getting annoyed with him.

“Fourth is when I start doing it deliberately. Realised I caught feelings for you, and you can see that in the landscape, how it follows the outline of your body.” Harry pointed just as the lights inside the planets went out. “There’s baby blue in quite literally everything.”

The lack of lights to showcase the paintings didn’t stop him, Harry walked on. She ran after him, about to tell him to slow down again when he walked right past the beach painting with the huge moon.

“The night you changed the moon for me forever. Now I do as you said you do; I talk to her. Every night.”

Y/N felt her heart ache. She wondered, if they were both talking to the moon at the same time, if they were talking about one another, why didn’t the moon whisper Harry’s words into her ear and hers into his? Why didn’t she help them?

“You’re further away in that one ‘cause I realised I’d have to let you go at the end of the summer, didn’t want to get too attached.” A dry laugh slipped past his lips. “Look how well that worked out.”

They stopped in front of the second moon painting, where he was floating in what looked to be the middle of a huge and dark ocean.

“You once told me the moon knows all your deepest secrets and biggest desires,” Harry pointed at himself in the painting. “Here’s me surrendering myself to her.”

“Why’re you in the ocean?”

Harry chuckled, running both hands over his face as if he couldn’t believe her.

“What?”

He looked at her for a few seconds while clenching his jaw. “I used to be terrified of the dark and the ocean. You taught me monsters won’t magically appear just ‘cause you can’t see. They’re just as likely to show themselves in sunlight.” He glanced at the painting again, blinking a few too-many times as he looked away from her. “If you take your time to understand and truly look at this painting, you’ll understand it.”

She was about to open her mouth when Harry said, “And don’t use your ‘I only know science, I barely know how to interpret art’ rubbish.”

“Well, it’s true.” She mumbled, but Harry only clicked his tongue, disinterested in her insistence on not understanding art. He walked on to the next one, the one that was completely baby blue, where her body was carefully outlined in white.

“Here you can clearly tell-“

“-I have a question,” Y/N said, making Harry shut up. “That painting of me… the one where I’m… Where’s that one? I mean…”

Harry stared at her for a few seconds, waiting for her to continue, but when she never did, he mumbled another question right back at her, “You think I’d put a painting of your naked body on display in my exhibition?”

She just looked at him, seeing something in his eyes that was vaguely familiar but too far away to fully grasp.

“I’m keeping that one-“ he stopped himself, swallowing hard. “It’s private.”

She nodded.

“Anyway,” Harry went back to the painting before them. “You represent baby blue to me, so here’s your colour – you -,” he paused for a second. “Becoming everything.”

She looked at him, feeling everything within her wither and bloom at the same time. The painting seemed to take him back to a time long ago, every urge he had to do this as quickly as possible seemed to leave him when he looked at that painting. They still had one left, but he forgot about that, losing himself in a memory. And Y/N lost herself in him. Suddenly, proper lights lit up the room and the stars that had illuminated everything prior, disappeared.

“Harry!”

Harry didn’t meet Y/N’s eyes as he stepped away from the row of planets, looking up at Jamie how had shouted his name.

“Closing time. We need to pack up, mate.”

Harry nodded, looking over at Y/N who suddenly felt her heart pick up speed.

Jamie clapped their hands together. “Come on, you lot, you need to leave.”

For a few moments, it was like the two of them moved in slow motion. Harry took a few steps so he could face the other way, ready to leave through the backdoor, not breaking eye contact with Y/N. Once they looked away from one another, the rest of the world would resume being and they had to leave. Y/N had to say something, she had to tell him. But everything was clogged up somewhere in her throat, she wasn’t able to say anything. This whole exhibit… it was about her. Harry had cared so much about her and he still did. But she couldn’t find the right words. She had to say something. Had to let him know she felt the same way.

Harry’s jaw clenched again before he looked away from Y/N and started walking back down the way he’d taken Y/N before. Everything inside her went into panic mode.

“Harry.” She said, but he didn’t turn around. She started jogging after him. “Harry.”

“Y/N-“

“-Just a sec, Portia!” Y/N continued to follow Harry through the now lit exhibit. “Harry!”

He didn’t turn around still.

“Harry, please.” She took a grip of his arm.

Harry stopped, dragging his arm out of her grip. “Y/N, stop.”

The force of his words took her off guard and it took her a few seconds to compose herself. “I’m sorry.”

Harry nodded, looking behind Y/N at the closing exit door. “What?”

“I… I need to tell you that…” she swallowed, feeling her palms get clammy. “You said earlier that…”

Harry looked at her expectantly, something in the frantic way his eyes moved over her face and the quick breath he took made her think he detected reciprocation in her voice. “Yes?”

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Her heart was beating hard and fast, she was beginning to sweat.

“What, Y/N?”

“I can’t, I-“ She ran both hands over her face, frustrated with herself. She groaned.

“What?”

“I know how I’m feeling, but I don’t know how to say it.”

Harry took a small step towards her. “Say what?”

“How I feel for you.”

He let out a small breath. “And how’s that?”

“Just how you feel about me.”

There was a single second when Harry’s eyes were filled with elation; like he was ready to embrace her, kiss her, and never let her go. Wanted to become one with her right then and there, to never leave her side again. A ghost of a smile grace his features and his shoulders lowered; his entire composure seemed to relax. As if all the anger he’d been carrying around with him in the gallery disappeared. But the next second, realisation sunk in and he glanced away for a second.

“Need to hear you say it.” He said, voice weak. “Know you say you’re not one for words, but there are moments in life when words are everything.”

Y/N felt a drop of sweat run down her back. Her head was spinning.

“I deserve to hear you say it yourself.” Harry said.

“I know! That’s why I’m trying so hard to say something!”

Harry nodded, eyes falling to the floor. “You’re not ready.”

Y/N frowned, sure her panic showed on her face. “I am ready. That’s why I followed you out here, isn’t it?”

“No, Y/N, you’re clearly not. You might feel it, but being vulnerable is hard for you. Admitting to being vulnerable isn’t something you know how to do.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open.

“Your whole life you’ve put up this cold and hard exterior to protect yourself from feeling too much. You’ve had a hard time receiving the love you needed while growing up, and you’ve been burned in the past-“

“-Don’t psychoanalyse me.” She pointed a finger at him. “You know I have a hard time opening up to people completely.”

“You have a hard time admitting to letting your guard down. You do it willingly, but there’s a part of you that just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“I said don’t psycho-“

“-I know, I’m sorry.” Harry took a few steps back, as if getting ready to walk away from her. “I’ll wait.”

She blinked. “For what?”

“You.”

“Me?”

Harry nodded, just about to turn around and leave when she called his name again.

“You just begged me to tell you I felt the same way, and I did.” Y/N said, taking a few steps toward him, but stopping herself. “I told you.”

“That you felt like I did.”

“Exactly.”

Harry let out a small chuckle and though it sent a swarm of butterflies straight to Y/N’s stomach, it also hurt because she knew the next few words would send her into a panic. “And thank you for that, but I told you how I felt. Now you need to tell me. Physical show of affection is nice, but proper verbal confirmation that someone loves you…” he trailed off, looking at her in silence for some seconds. “It’s key.”

“Harry-“

“-I love you.”

She fell silent, taken off guard. But the words warmed her so that she was sure she’d never freeze again. He started walking away.

“I’ll wait, you need to figure this out on your own. I know,” smiling he continued, “Now I need you to comprehend.”

Mouth falling open as she tried to force herself to say something, she cursed herself over and over again for having built up that humongous wall around her. Being vulnerable was like admitting that you were weak, and she knew those two weren’t the same thing at all, but she’d associated them with one another her whole life. She needed to stop.

“I’ll wait for you.”

And just like that, Harry left her this time. She was tempted to run after him again, but to what purpose? To have him tell her yet again that he needed her to tell him she loved him when she couldn’t bring herself to? To hurt him again? No, she was going to deal with her struggles to admit vulnerability herself. He deserved to hear her say everything he’d just told her and much more. And hopefully Harry would still love her the way he did now by that time. How terrified she already was that he didn’t.

But if that was the case, at least she’d have taught herself the importance of vulnerability.

Thursday, 10 September 2020

“Smile, baby.” Elaine brought her phone up, snapping a picture of Y/N with her diploma in hand, standing in front of her University.

It was a nice day; the sun was shining through a thin layer of clouds and the temperature was high, but not so high that Y/N was struggling to breathe. All her course mates were milling around behind, beside, and around her, saying their last goodbyes before everyone was to part ways after this. It had been bittersweet saying goodbye to her mates. She knew she was going to see them again and knew she would be happier now that she didn’t have to care about uni, but it would be sad not seeing them and not knowing when she would meet them next. Though she hadn’t really been close with any of them, she still counted them as her friends and would miss their time together.

Portia stood beside Elaine and gave Y/N a little applause, grinning from ear to ear as her sister walked over to them again. “Look at you, all smart.”

“Yes,” Y/N said, doing a little dance with her diploma. “I’d like to think I am.”

“Look,” Elaine begged Y/N over so she could look at the pictures she’d taken of her. “You look lovely, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, the lighting’s amazing.”

“So peng.” Portia said, zooming in on Y/N’s face.

Y/N playfully hit Portia in the head with her diploma, making the two sisters chuckle before they turned back to their mother. Elaine smiled at Y/N, there was a look in her eyes Y/N wasn’t accustomed to seeing on her mother’s face when looking at her. It was something she often directed at Portia, but Y/N rarely got this. Pride. It almost made Y/N’s eyes sting with oncoming tears.

“Come on, girls,” Elaine said, taking each of her daughters’ hands. “We need to celebrate. What’s a good pub around yours, Y/N?”

“Hmm,” Y/N thought for a few seconds. “There’s a Gregg’s two minutes away.”

“Sausage rolls!” Portia exclaimed.

“We’re not celebrating you getting a degree at bloody Gregg’s, are you dim?” Elaine huffed, unlocking the car once they reached it. “We need to get a pint each, and a fancy dinner later.”

“Reckon we could afford a fancy dinner in London, Mum?” Y/N sat down in the car, putting her seatbelt on as Elaine started the car. “I’m skint.”

“Well, you’re not the one paying for the dinner, are you?” Elaine raised her eyebrows at her, driving away towards Y/N’s flat in Hackney. Portia reached into the backseat where Y/N sat, squeezing her knee before she sat back and focused on the city they were driving in. Y/N leaned forward and squeezed Portia’s shoulder.

“Thank you for coming, P. Know you have a lot going on at the moment, but it meant a lot to me that you bothered to come.”

Porta looked over her shoulder at Y/N, studying her sister for a second before she smiled. “Might be busy, but it’s your graduation. It’s important to me.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up a bit, something they always did when she managed to discuss her feelings. “Thank you anyway.”

“You’re very welcome.” Portia’s smile widened, and she grabbed Y/N’s hand, kissing it before turning to look ahead again.

Y/N smiled herself, sitting back in her seat and looking out the window.

She’d never really gotten attached to London. Maybe it was because she didn’t really have anyone she was close to, or the constant fast-paced lifestyle you had to lead to live there. Y/N had always preferred a slow life, like the one she had grown up knowing in Maldon. Essex was calm, it was what she’d known her whole life and what she wanted to know forever. Regardless of where she wanted to live and where she felt she belonged; she’d gotten a job at North London Veterinary Clinic so she didn’t really have much of a choice in where she could settle down for a little while. North London wasn’t as busy as Central, so she wouldn’t be as overwhelmed as she usually was. She’d have to move and though the thought stressed her out, she was ready for a little change. It would be good for her.

“Do you remember that guy I was chatting to for a little while?” Portia suddenly asked, snapping Y/N out of her reverie.

“Drake?”

“No.”

“That Felix lad?”

“Not him.”

“Ezra?”

Portia shook her head.

“Jackson-“

“-Oh, for fuck’s sake, Y/N,” Portia turned around in her seat. “Do you have to rub it in?”

“That you date a lot of men? I don’t have to do that; you know it perfectly well yourself.”

Portia rolled her eyes. “Azeem.”

“Ahh! Azeem!” Y/N nodded her head, giving her little sister a smile. “Remember you talked about him, yes. Ages ago, though.”

Portia seemed to think back to the time she was talking to Azeem, getting lost in her own thoughts for a few short seconds before she blurted out, “Anyway, I met him on a night out like two days ago.”

“You did? What’d he say?”

“Just that it was nice to see me again.” Portia said. “Told me I looked good. And then he walked me home.”

In an attempt to come to terms with how she was feeling and letting other people know, it had been one of the first things Y/N had done. She sat Portia down when she came back to London, told her she loved the fact her sister came down and that they got to spend time together because it brought them closer – and she wanted to be close to her sister since they’d struggled being just that growing up -, but Portia needed her own place. If she was going to spend that much time in the capital, she might as well move there permanently. Elaine had struggled to come to terms with the fact that her youngest daughter would be moving out, especially considering how much time and resources she’d put into Portia and her career. But both the sisters had convinced their mother that this was what Portia needed to do. She needed to become independent. And besides, Portia wouldn’t be alone in London, Y/N lived there as well.

“And…?” Y/N urged, raising her eyebrows to show she was eager to know what happened next.

“He asked me out on a date.”

“He did?!” Y/N grinned. “Why did you stop seeing each other in the first place?”

Portia sighed. “It was hard to not see him very often, we lived far away from one another, and all that. But now that I live in London, maybe it’ll work out.”

“Is he a decent bloke, Y/N?” Elaine looked in the driving mirror back at Y/N. “I won’t take Portia’s word for it. You know she’s blinded by a good shag when she’s got one.”

“Mum!” Portia exclaimed. “Don’t say that! You’re not allowed to say that!”

“Say what? What you always tell me? You talk about lads and your sex life constantly.”

“I do not! Oh, my God!”

Y/N laughed, zoning out as her little sister and mother started arguing in the front. They soon reached Hackney and Y/N’s flat building. It felt weird knowing that Thursday next week, she’d be moving out of this flat and into a new one. Though Hackney wasn’t the nicest place to be living in London – or the nicest place to just be walking through – it had been Y/N’s home for five years now. Sure, she spent loads of time in Maldon and Essex, but this was her place in London. But soon, Hampstead would probably be it. It wasn’t that the commute would be horrible from Hackney and up to North London, but she would rather have a stroll to work in the morning instead of using public transit. It was bloody unbearable on the tube in the mornings sometimes.

They exited the car and Y/N rummaged through her purse for her keys, giving them to Portia when she reached her hand out for them.

“Thanks, babes.” Y/N said, getting her diploma out of the car seat before closing the door and letting their mother lock the car.

Portia glanced at Y/N for a little while, a grin spreading out over her lips.

“What?” Y/N asked, gesturing for her sister to unlock the door so they could walk on in.

“Dunno,” Portia shrugged, putting the key in the hole and turning it. “You never call me ‘babe’ or anything like that, but you’ve started recently.”

“Been watching too much Love Island.”

Portia laughed, holding the door open for her mother and sister. The lot of them walked up the stairs to the second story, about to let Y/N change out of her heels so they could go have a pint and then go out to dinner. Though she wouldn’t look as smashing as she did with her heels on, they would ultimately kill her feet and she was not about that life today. She’d just gotten a degree, she was going to feel good all day. So fuck heels.

They reached Y/N’s door and she let Portia unlock that one as well. Her flat was as simplistic as always; one single room with a small kitchen, a bed, a desk, and a door to a small bathroom. Elaine walked over to the desk, sitting down in Y/N’s office chair while Portia bent down and picked up something behind the door.

“Mail.” She said, giving Y/N a few envelopes.

“Thanks.” Y/N took it, looking through the envelopes to see nothing interesting. A couple of bills, some rubbish, and…

“Where are we going after this then?” Elaine asked, looking from Y/N to Portia. But Y/N didn’t hear what Portia was answered because she was too busy reading the small slip of paper that told her she’d gotten a parcel. Everything that was too big to slip through the mail slot was out into a cupboard on the outside of Y/N’s flat. Beside her front door was another, smaller door where her electricity metre was. If she wasn’t in to receive the parcel herself, she’d written on her mail slot to just pop it in there.

She put all her mail down on the kitchen counter before walking outside to check the cupboard. Upon opening it, she saw a single brown parcel, though it looked more like a gift than anything. She reached for it, bringing it out into proper lighting. She read her own address on the front, and when turning it around, she found it a little hard to breathe. Had he…

Y/N walked back into the flat, closing the door behind her and placing the package on the kitchen counter so she could unpack it. She knew Elaine and Portia were talking behind her about something, probably where they were going to go have their pint, but Y/N could not focus on anything but what was right in front of her. Ripping the paper off, a sea of colour was revealed to her and she recognised what she was looking at right away.

“A sunny morning in Essex.” Y/N smiled, looking at him. “The most beautiful sight in the world, if I may say so.”

“Oh, is it?” he asked, putting the brush away and placing his hand on her thigh, turning to face her.

“Uh-huh.” Her smile widened some as he moved closer to her, brushing his nose gently against hers.

“I can think of more beautiful sights than a sunrise in bleeding Essex.”

She ran her hand over it, feeling the strokes of paint she’d put there with Harry’s help. It wasn’t nearly as beautiful as the paintings in his collection, but it was the most breath-taking creation she’d ever laid her eyes upon. It was something she’d made with Harry. It was art. Picking it up, something fell to the kitchen counter. An envelope.

“What’s that?” Portia asked, but Y/N couldn’t answer.

She put the canvas back down on the counter and reached for the envelope, tearing it open. It was his handwriting and she suddenly longed for him again. Months had gone by, but she thought about him every day. He was always with her, always motivated her; made her want to be better. And seeing something the two of them made a year ago, reliving the memory of them sitting close and creating something beautiful in the warm Italian summer night, it made her yearn in a way she never had before.

‘Complimenti per la laurea, celeste.’

Looking down on the canvas again, she suddenly recognised it. The landscape resembled the one in Tuscany, the one she had walked through and lived in all last summer. And in the corner was a white house, almost like a mansion of sorts, but not as big as some of the houses she’d passed on the countryside. She didn’t remember painting that. In fact, she barely remembered painting anything but the colour of the sunrise. Orange, yellow, blue. Harry must’ve completed the painting after she left.

“Y/N,” Portia said, now standing by her sisters’ shoulder. “Is that one of his paintings?”

Y/N just looked at he canvas, unable to say anything.

“Is that one of his fucking paintings?” Portia gasped, looking at Elaine and back at Y/N. “Imagine how much that is worth!”

“I’m not gonna sell his painting, Tia.”

“No, but-“ Portia gestured at the artwork, squealing. “What’d the card say?”

“Think he’s congratulating me on graduating.” Y/N put the card down, looking at the painting again. The room fell silent as nosy Elaine probably didn’t know which of her questions to ask first, Portia looked dumbfounded at the canvas, and Y/N yet again lost herself in daydreams of Harry. He knew she was graduating today. Sent her their painting. He congratulated her on finally getting her degree. He was still thinking about her like she was thinking about him. One of Y/N’s fears with taking so long to figure herself out, he’d somehow move on. But she believed in him enough, knew how she felt well enough, to know that they’d see each other again.

“You have to leave.” Portia said. “Y/N, it’s been six months.”

“I know.”

“You have to go to bloody Italy right this second.” Portia looked around Y/N’s flat. “Where’s your bag?”

“What about my life here? I’m starting a new job next week, I’m moving.”

“Figure that stuff out next week.” Portia smiled. “You’ve grown so much in the last few months, Y/N. You’re softer now, not so prone to fighting people for not having the same opinion as you, but you listen and you’re willing to change. Not for the world, but for yourself. Harry didn’t tell you to embrace tenderness just so you could admit how you were feeling about him, but also so you’d be nicer to yourself.”

“But I already am.”

“I know, but he wanted you to allow more love into your life. By seizing love and allowing yourself to feel, not only self-love, but the love of others, you allow yourself to live fully and completely.” Portia squeezed Y/N’s shoulder. “Without regret, without apology.”

Y/N smiled a little at her sister, studying her face. “Portia Cressida, when the fuck did you become so wise?”

“Can’t let people know I know shit or else I’ll ruin my dumb image.”

The girls laughed, and Portia rested her head on Y/N’s shoulder, glancing at the painting Harry had gifted her sister.

“Go, Y/N.”

Saturday, 12 September 2020

She remembered Italy to be hot, but something about Italy in autumn was almost unbearable. Everything was still a lush green, nothing had changed outdoors since last year it seemed, everything still looked the same. But Y/N wondered how that was possible when she wasn’t even in the southern part of Tuscany anymore, she was in Veneto, a county further up north. North-west Italy looked as summery in autumn as Y/N would’ve expected it to, and she loved it. Though she didn’t like the sun much, she’d come to appreciate it more than the rain of England. Besides, she could stand the heat if it meant meeting Harry again.

She’d called Jamie yesterday, asked them where she’d be able to meet Harry. She knew she could’ve just asked Harry, but she also wanted to see the surprise on his face when he saw her on his doorstep. So, she hadn’t told him she was coming. Which could either end with them living happily ever after or him saying he didn’t feel the same anymore. Thinking about the latter gave her a panic attack.

She hadn’t brought much with her, just a small bag as a carry-on and the clothes she was wearing. A see-through red, yellow, white, and pink tie dye crop top, showing off her cute black bralette underneath, a washed-out pair of high-waisted boyfriend denim jeans, and a black pair of Dr Marten’s. Though it had gotten a bit chilly on the plane, she knew Italy would be hot, and she had been very right about that. Besides, she needed to look extra cute now that she was seeing Harry again for the first time in six months.

The bus ride wasn’t as bumpy as the one she’d taken to Fosdinovo, the bus was new, and she trusted the driver to know if something was wrong. She hadn’t trusted Gioele to know the same, which she applauded herself for in retrospect. The bus was fairly new and the road to Padua, Veneto was nice. She’d done some research and figured out the reason why Harry might’ve moved up north and close to Padua. It was a city known for art; spectacularly pretty and often overlooked by Venice, a mere hour-drive away. Knowing Harry, he’d probably walk through the quieter streets of Venice to get inspiration or sit on a corner café in Padua to people-watch. She knew he wanted to get out of Fosdinovo, but he hadn’t been able to remove himself entirely from the Italian culture he had immersed himself in. His love for that country was too great for him to ever truly leave.

Reaching Padua, Y/N got off and got a taxi right away. She told the driver where she was going, and though it was a bit out of town and onto the countryside – not to Y/N’s surprise, Harry liked quiet after all – he agreed to get her there. It took them about 30 minutes to reach the house, and when they did, it was a simple gravel path. She obviously had to walk for a bit to get there, but she was glad she got to take in Harry’s new residence in the calmness that was the outskirts of Padua. She could make out the white house at the end of the road, the newly sown trees that lined the path, and knew when they had grown to their full height, they would envelope the drive like a tunnel of green leaves and nature. Y/N smiled a little to herself as she imagined it, knowing that Harry most likely had the exact same thought in mind.

It was nice seeing how he decided to live now, especially after everything that happened in Fosdinovo. Secluded, but a couple of neighbours a few minutes’ walk up or down the cemented road she’d just been on. It was undoubtedly his new paradise. And by the looks of it, the closer she got, it seemed he was still working on the house. White and grand, with huge French windows and sheer curtains on either side of them all, there was still some construction work going on on the outside, though the workers weren’t working today it seemed. It was only 12pm, but maybe Harry wanted them to take the day off to relax. She’d ask him, she told herself, because she was now in the driveway, viewing the red front door, looking in through the windows to see if she saw him. Her heart was hammering so fast in her chest that she noticed her tie dye top vibrating with each beat.

Reaching forwards, she pressed the doorbell, taking a step back so the door wouldn’t hit her in the face when he opened it. Nearly as quickly as it had gone off, she heard something very familiar inside the house. Spending time around animals nearly all the time, Y/N’s puppy radar went off when she heard the tiny barks of a baby dog inside. Immediately, her mouth fell open, and she walked to the closest window to look inside.

Down a white tiled corridor, the light from the massive windows on the other side of the house shining down on him, a puppy came running down on his big paws, his tail wagging so wildly his little bum moved with it.

“Hi.” Y/N cooed when he reached the window, standing on his back-paws to get a better look of her and bark some more. “Who’re you then? What’s your name?”

He sniffed the glass as if trying to get a sniff of her, but he whimpered when he couldn’t. And as Y/N got a good look of the little guy, she realised something very quickly that made her almost fall backward onto the gravel of the driveway. A Scottish deerhound.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Y/N said under her breath, walking back to the front door and ringing the doorbell again. Why was it that Harry had trouble answering the bloody door every time? She stood her ground this time, the puppy still barking at her and watching her in anticipation, ready to jump onto her the second Harry opened the door. But he didn’t. So this time she knocked on his door with her fist, not about to wait around for hours. She knew he was in. A puppy couldn’t be left alone in a big house like this, he’d either have to put him in a cage or take the pup with him.

With no response, Y/N decided to explore the outside of his house. Giving the pup a little wave, she stepped down from the front step, taking in the marble pillars on either side that held a small roof above the front door. The house was incredibly elegant and new. Had he built it himself? She walked around the side, admiring the huge garden and the tall stone fence that secluded it from everything else. There were a couple of trees that stood around a tiny pond, and it seemed he’d taken the time to put a grey stone bench beside it. The rest of the garden was newly trimmed and grand, though pretty empty still. There seemed to be the start of a pretty big doghouse beside another tree, and something else that might be the start of a veranda. Maybe he’d just about moved in. It would explain why everything looked so new, anyway.

It felt like Harry, though. All of it. Elegant yet simple, big but not too much. He was a simplistic person who loved grand things. The thought of him moving into a new house, probably a little anxious to meet new people and to get acquainted with his new life in a new town, it made her smile. He was restless and would move in a few years, but for now, this was exactly what he needed, she knew.

Faint, but Y/N still heard it with every single part of her being, a meow sounded from behind her. Turning around, there stood a striped cat looking over at her. She hesitantly moved forward and Y/N felt like breaking down crying.

“Viola,” Y/N hunched down. “Hi, baby.”

The cat made her way over quite hastily when she recognised who the person was, rubbing herself against Y/N’s outstretched hands. She’d grown, yet Y/N would know this little creature anywhere. She’d often wondered what happened to Viola, because when she left, she assumed Harry would take care of her till he left. But here she was. Had he brought her with him everywhere? She reached down, pressing a soft kiss to Viola’s forehead like she always did, and the cat meowed in response. Y/N giggled, the feel and sound of Viola brought her right back to her time in Fosdinovo. The cat had been there for her every single day, putting a smile on her face. They gave each other a home for a month.

Thinking she might explore more of the grounds, she stood upright, and Viola immediately perked up, ready to follow Y/N wherever she decided to go. Her eyes suddenly landed on a glass house attached to the mansion, and then on the figure standing by the open door leading into it. The inside of the winter garden was fully furnished, unlike the rest of the property that lacked the same attention. She couldn’t believe this. Not only was this Harry’s dream home, it was hers as well.

Their eyes met, and a jolt so intense rocked through Y/N’s body that it shook up everything. She fell in love with him all over again, seeing him there, looking right back at her with a look of startlement and longing and relief. She couldn’t wait any longer, she had to be close to him. Taking the first few steps, she felt the inside of her tummy vibrate as the butterflies inside her came to life again. The closer she got to him, the more every single part of her body tickled, itching to hold him again. And when it seemed to have dawned on Harry that this wasn’t a dream, he started walking toward her as well. The closer they got the more they picked up the pace. It had been too long, they had taken too much time, they had worked on each other for one another and for themselves.

Y/N threw herself into his chest and Harry wrapped his arms around her so tightly she was sure she’d fade into him. Though it had taken them so much to get to this moment, it had taken them a while for a reason. People needed to work on one another and for each other to make a relationship work, it didn’t just magically happen. And sometimes people need to be apart for a little while to gain perspective and mature enough to return. Harry needed someone who could be as open as him, and Y/N needed someone who wasn’t afraid to be himself to the fullest, without apology.

They broke apart, eager to look at one another again. Harry’s eyes moved over her frantically, taking her in again. He was wearing another silk shirt, tucked into high-waisted washed out denim jeans, and barefoot. Something about his bare feet was adorable. And the fact they were basically wearing the same jeans made her stifle a laughter.

“Hi,” she said, unsure how else to greet him.

He chuckled. “What the fuck, Y/N.”

“What?”

“You’re here.” He said, smiling at her. “I… I had no idea. But you’re here.”

“I’m here.”

He took her hand, squeezing it, looking her up and down. “Here.”

She smiled as well, feeling her hand heat up here his skin met hers. When he looked up at her again, eyes glistening, face lit up more than she’d ever seen before, dimples as deep as ever, she felt like tearing up. This was the man of her dreams; the man she wanted to spend every day with till death. And even after that she’d find him in their next life, or she’d find him in her afterlife, or wherever else they’d end up. There was no one else. Would never be anyone else.

“This is a big place.” She said, gesturing at the house and the rest of the estate.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, still looking at their joined hands. “Started building it back in March.”

“Big place for a big lad.”

Harry laughed, looking up at her again. “Need enough space for Viola and Gopher to wander.”

Y/N’s heart did a dreamy sigh. “Gopher?”

“Oh!” Harry pointed behind him at the house. “He was the one barking.”

“The puppy?”

“Yeah.”

She bit her lips together, looking down at their hands. “You adopted a puppy.”

Silence for a few moments before Harry said, in such a soft voice she swore it felt like a caress, “He’s been waiting for you.”

She glanced up again, happiness so overwhelming filled her to the point that she felt like flying. Eyes landed on the house and then back on Harry as he ran his thumb over her hand.

“Don’t you remember that day in the car last summer, when you first met Jamie?”

She didn’t at first, but it hit her like a truck and she almost gasped out loud. Harry only smiled a little at her, having remembered her words this whole time.

“A Scottish deerhound.”

“They’re quite big, aren’t they? Can’t remember how they look, but I think I know.” The phone was in Jamie’s hand, typing the name of the breed into the Google search bar.

“I’ve always wanted one. Always wanted to move to the outskirts of Maldon with two deerhounds. That’s where I want to settle down, I think.” She said. “With a winter garden and a big property so the dogs can run freely.”

She shook her head, not wanting to believe Harry had done this.

“Harry…”

“It’s not Maldon, or Essex, or England for that matter,” he said, stepping aside so she could look at the house. “But I tried to make it like you said, with some pieces of me in it, if that’s okay.”

The resemblance it held to the last painting of Harry’s exhibit was incredible, the same painting that had been stolen by Gioele. The painting Harry had an emotional attachment to of sorts. It was because it was this. It was the house. It was the place he hoped she’d settle down. With him.

“Wanna take a look inside?”

She smiled at him. “Please.”

He smiled back, letting go of her hand so they could walk into the winter garden. Viola followed them, strolling in through the door before Harry closed it. He took her into his arms and walked over to the door that led into the house, opening it and letting Viola walk away before closing the door again. They were left in silence, a few of the windows were open to let some air in or else the room would undoubtedly get incredibly hot with the sun shining right in. The roof was shaped like a spire, the whole glasshouse a half-circle, and green plants lined the window wall. Vines hung gracefully along some of the stiles, and in the middle of it all stood a big blue velvet ottoman. The whole place had a gothic feel to it and Y/N absolutely adored it. When she’d pictured a winter garden, she’d just wanted a place she could relax outdoors during wintertime, but this was something else entirely. It had a Harry feel to it, but it also felt like her.

“What do you think?” Harry asked, leaning his back against the windows.

“It’s amazing.” She mused, looking around. “Harry… I’m speechless.”

“Tried to make it into something that I knew you’d like. That’s why I painted it first and had an architect sketch the outline of the house after.” Harry explained. “Hope it falls into liking.”

She looked over at him, for the first time in ages, seeing the hint of doubt in his eyes again. Simply not able to help herself, she walked over to him, hesitating a bit before placing a hand to his cheek. He leaned into her, closing his eyes for a second and letting a sigh of relaxation leave his lips.

“I love it, I haven’t even seen the inside of the house, but I love it.” She told him, studying his dark eyelashes against his cheekbones. “And I love you.”

Harry’s eyes shot open, looking straight into hers. The absolute joy in them made the colour of his irises more radiant, and it was almost as if the sun shone a little brighter. As if the world fell into place; like how it was supposed to be all along.

“I love you.” She repeated, softer this time around.

“Yeah?” Harry’s voice sounded like a whisper; a plea for her to really, really, really feel it – what was between them – like he did.

“I’m in love with you, Harry.”

He grabbed the back of her neck, swallowing hard. “I love you, too.”

She couldn’t help it when the sides of her mouth tipped upward. “I know.”

Harry smiled. “Smug bastard.”

She laughed, leaning her forehead against his, feeling his fingers stroke her scalp tenderly. God, it felt good to have him touch her again. It felt good to be close to him. It felt good to not be ashamed of saying ‘I love you’. It felt amazing to let someone else know how deeply you cared for them and see them light up in response because they felt the same way.

“Now fucking kiss me before I go out of my mind.” Harry said, an undertone to his voice that made a hot tingle run up Y/N’s spine.

“How about you kiss me?”

Harry frowned.

“After all, if I hadn’t kissed you in the ocean that night, would we even be here?”

“You take pride in that, don’t you? I would’ve kissed you eventually.” Harry said, and Y/N raised her eyebrows at him. “I would’ve!”

“Yeah, alright. When? The opportunity presented itself a couple of times, but you only had the nerve to kiss my hand.”

Harry gripped her hair hard in his hand, bringing her lips to hover above his. She gasped, looking down at his lips and then feeling it against her thigh. Very quickly, she felt hot all over, and the need to be closer to Harry grew so fast it made her dizzy.

“Got the nerve to fuck you good now, don’t I?” Harry said, voice so deep she felt it vibrate through her bones.

Y/N bit her lip. “What gentleman talks like that to a lady before he’s even kissed her for the first time in a year?”

“You want a gentleman?”

She ran her hands down his torso. “Depends on the situation.”

Harry kissed her jaw, leaving wet kisses down her neck. “Hmm, does it now?”

“Want a gentleman to walk the little puppy with, to make breakfast with, or to take me out for dates.”

“Do you want a gentleman between your thighs, baby?”

She closed her eyes at the feel of Harry’s lips on her, bit her bottom lip as he pressed her body closer to his. “Depends on how well that gentleman knows how to treat a lady.”

Harry chuckled, the feeling of his laughter against her skin was like heaven. “I’ll be a gentleman, the devil, an angel; I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

She huffed. “Thought we were doing dirty talk, and here you go turning it romantic.”

“I need you to shut up,” Harry said as his lips hovered above hers. “Because I’m about to kiss you and then fuck you on that sofa.”

She grinned, tilting her head to fit perfectly against his. “Kiss me.”

And he did. Hard and passionately. They wasted no time, slipping their tongue into one another’s mouths, clinging to one another, touching all over. They tasted the other, felt them right there. There were some birds singing outside, rustling of some leaves, but the two of them didn’t care. Harry pushed her backward till her legs hit the couch, but she stopped herself from falling back into it. Instead, she turned them around, pushing Harry back onto the ottoman.

“Let me show you how much I love you.” She said, and Harry let out a shaky breath at her words.

He quickly undid the buttons of his silk shirt, threw it somewhere behind him before he leaned on his elbows. “Nothing you’ve ever said has turned me on more.”

She giggled, taking her jeans and knickers off and straddling his lap. He sat up, attaching his lips to hers once again, grabbing onto her bum, begging her to grind against him. They both wanted some friction, and she knew that if he pressed her harder onto him, there would be wet marks from her left on his jeans. But in the moment, neither cared. They just wanted to be as close as humans could be, wanted to feel ecstasy. She buried her hands in his hair, dragging out the tongue filled, wet, lustful kisses. It was excruciating, and the heat between her thighs got more and more intense the more time went on. A wave of excitement and adoration ran through her as she felt Harry’s hand run up her back, reaching for her bra. He wanted to see all of her.

She let him, throwing her shirt off and letting her bra fall to the floor. Harry kissed her the second she was done undressing, moaning her name against her lips. She felt her centre ache, reaching for the zip of Harry’s jeans as quickly as possible. She couldn’t bare it any longer, she needed to be skin to skin; soul to soul. Y/N found that the people she had sex with, she formed an emotional attachment to them in a way that was unexplainable. There might not even be real feelings there, but you’d shared an intimate moment with someone, and it was a moment neither of you would ever forget. But with Harry, it was more than that. It wasn’t just a single moment she shared with him when they were like this; it felt like sharing an entire lifetime. It felt like happiness; it felt like the rest of her life. And she knew she was right to have spent time away from him, because she would tell him this over and over and over again, and she wouldn’t be ashamed or feel weak for admitting how much she loved him.

They got Harry’s jeans and boxers off, and as she took a grip of his cock, Harry stiffened. Their eyes met.

“A condom.” He said, reminding her what they were about to do.

She shook her head. “It’s fine.”

Harry gripped her thigh, squeezing her.

“You pay for the pill.”

He smiled, kissing her for a long time. “Fuck me, please.”

Slowly, she sat down on him, gasping at the familiar feeling of him inside her like this. Harry didn’t take his eyes off her the entire time, mouth opening wider for each centimetre he moved inside her. Positioning her feet on the floor, she started moving her hips over him. He instantly moaned, not able to help himself because it felt so good. He moved his hands up her thighs, her sides, her back, wanting to feel every single little part of her. Wanted her to know how much he appreciated every little thing about her. There wasn’t a single part of her body, of her soul, of her existence he didn’t love. She felt all his emotions in his touches, in the kisses he left along her collarbone, in the soft way he moaned her name.

She tried to push him down onto the ottoman, wanting to have him watch her as she rode him, but Harry stopped her. He shook his head, curls tickling her jawline and cheek.

“No,” he simply said, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m staying right here.”

And though he hadn’t meant it that way, Y/N still took it as him telling her he’d stay with her like this forever. After all, she’d been the one to leave him in the first place, but they were here now. Never was she going to leave him. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her, the truest thing in her life, and her best influence. Had she ever been happy before she’d met him? Had she known true happiness till now? Because right now, feeling Harry’s bare skin against hers and hearing him repeat her name, she wasn’t so sure the happiness she’d felt before him could be counted as just that, happiness.

Harry squeezed her hips. “Like that,” he moaned, burying his face in the cook of her neck.

Nothing mattered besides the magic they were creating between them; nothing mattered but Harry and eternity. The soft skin of the inside of Y/N’s thighs against Harry’s hips and sides, pressed to him, sweaty. His tattooed body against her bare one. Heavy breathing, the occasional moan.

The burn in her core was really starting to build up now, and she knew it would burst any second. Harry moved his face so it was right in front of hers, studying her moving form above him. Her sliding hips, her desperate hands, her exclamations of pleasure. The butterflies in her stomach went crazy, all of them flying wildly in a single circle to intensify the oncoming orgasm. Harry’s hips moved more with hers, staring at her as she closed her eyes, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Harry said, hands trembling against her back.

She didn’t know why that almost brought her to tears, but it did, and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. No one had ever made her feel as stunning as Harry. Though she was confident in her body and on her own, being with Harry made her feel on top of the world. His love, his encouragement, his compliments, it all made her feel so incredibly good about herself in a way nothing ever had before. She had no idea how she could ever thank him for that.

Their hips moved rhythmically, hard against one another, desperate for release. Everything felt electric, everything felt hot. Y/N wanted to melt into him and have the two of them sitting like this forever. Wanted to feel him close, feel his love, feel his skin. Having him inside her like this, feeling him grip her hard, whimpering against her lips, moan her name; she felt powerful, beautiful, strong, and so so so good.

“Harry,” she moaned, looking into his eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.” He said, bringing her closer. He reached between them, knowing that in order to come properly, she needed him to flick her bud. “Let me watch you come.”

“Oh, God.” She gripped his shoulders harder, moaning loudly as he rubbed her clit like he knew she loved so much.

“Yeah?” He watched her, flicking her faster. “Come for me, baby.”

She came hard. Harry watched her intently, clearly holding back his own release till he knew she was completely done with hers. She grinded on top of him, looking deeply into her eyes as hot flames lashed threw her body, rocking up her entire reality. She gasped for breath and moaned and repeated Harry’s name over and over and over again until it let like it was the only word she knew. Her legs were shaking, and it was hard for her to move properly so he could come to.

“Say it.” Harry said, his neck vein about to show and his face reddening with the oncoming climax. “Tell me.”

She knew exactly what he needed to hear. “I love you.” She whispered against his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his lips as she continued to rock over him. “Everyday, for the rest of my existence, I’ll love you.”

“Fuck.” Harry moaned, not able to look away from her. “Y/N. My love.”

She held his face in her hands. “Never leave me. I love you too much.”

“Never.” Harry said, a moan escaping his lips. “Shit.”

He came, not looking away from her. A furrow appearing between his brows, lips parted, and Y/N had never seen anything so hot and beautiful. He stilled, neck vein showing, and he moaned and moaned and moaned. She watched him till he came down, feeling his cum inside her, feeling his breathing against her, his arms around her.

“You need to go meet Gopher now.” Harry said after a little while.

“My puppy.”

Harry laughed. “We’re gonna have a house filled with fucking animals, aren’t we?”

“And what about it?” Y/N smiled. “Don’t you want to see me happy?”

Harry’s eyes softened, smiling slightly up at her as he took her hand, bringing it up to his lips. He kissed her hand, then her palm, then the pulse of her wrist. “For the rest of my life, celeste.” His smile widened as he felt her beating hearts against his lips. “My baby blue.”

the BIGGEST thank you to all my beta readers! you lot have saved me and helped me more times than i can count! love you!

@aileenacoustic @sunflowervolumeeleven @emotionally-imbruised @fromyourstrulyh @harryisadogperson @harrysthighles @mellowstyles94 @toolazymyguy @clorenafila @dearest-rebecca @tpwkceline @tasteslikestrawberriesharry

and thank you to you! thank you for reading baby blue! thank you for the love sent both mine and bb’s way! thank you for letting me tell you yet another story, the fact that you sit down each sunday (or whichever day tbh) to read bb and immerse yourself in the bb-verse means so much to me!

as for what i’m gonna do next cos i’ve gotten quite a few questions about that! i won’t be posting writing on tumblr or wattpad till may, but in the meantime i’ll be over at patreon posting! there’ll be a poll there where some of my patrons can vote for what they want me to write next and i’ll post something every week!

my next fic will be announced sometime in april (tho i’ve talked about what it’s gonna be multiple times lmao), and the first few chapters will be available to read on my patreon before it starts posting on my other platforms!

ANYWAY, i love you all so much! thank you again! bb!harry and bb!mc appreciate you very much, as do i :’’)

thank you so much. till next time, stay hydrated.

your bestie, nora x

573 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

Text

Life And Times of Scrooge McDuck Retrospective: The New Laird of Castle McDuck! “And I’ll Remember It Poppa! There’s Always Another Rainbow!”

Hello all you happy people! And welcome back to my look at the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck! And to make up for lost time im’ doing two instalments this month, and with luck and my schedule holding out I plan to finish the main series in September, doubling up again for the last two months to finish this up.

Background wise there’s honestly not a lot this go round, as it’s less rooted in history and more Don Rosa’s need to settle an annoying flaw with continuity. Man oh man do I relate to that and having read comics for at least half my life, i’ve seen writers do this by the bucketload to fix decisions from other writers. Sometimes for the write reasons and sometimes because EVERYTHING WAS BETTER ON MY EARTH. Don Rosa, like most writers.. has done both.

Here though it’s for the good and for understandable reasons: Barks had Scrooge’s origin as a poor shoeshine boy from Glasgow.. but also had a rather famous and awesome story, the Old Castle’s Secret, that also gave them a giant ancestral castle. Rosa fixed this by having the McDuck’s having lost it due to a combination of being driven off the land by a fake ghost dog and poor turns of fourtune meaning they coudln’t pay the taxes to live there and were behind on taxes on it, hence the Whiskervilles having taken it over in part one.

But obviously the Whiskervilles coudln’t KEEP the castle as Scrooge owned it in present day, thus this chapter explains how he got it. It was a stroke of genius plot wise too as it allowed him to open each act in Scotland and using the castle to measure where Scrooge is in life: As a boy dreaming of getting it back, as a young man who while not a success succeeds at this, and as an older hardned man who realizes he simply doesn’t belong here anymore who has to leave his family’s legacy here behind to start a better one in America.

The only other real story is that a sequence here was based on the film A Matter of Life and Death, and Rosa detailed in his notes his quest to get a copy as the distribution rights here were a nightmare at the time. Thankfully that’s clearly changed as a quick look on Amazon shows both a standard DVD release, mentioned by rosa in the book and a snazzier release by the Criteron Collection are both easily available. He ended up getting a copy from Canada, and while he didn’t get any insight at least got a neat addition to his collection. Admittedly this dosen’t add much to the story, I just thought it was neat. So with all of that settled, join me after the cut as Scrooge tries to buy back his family’s legacy.

And Scrooge has already arrived in Scotland, having reunited with Downy and Matilda, who as a refresher is more responsible and straightlaced here versus the 2017 incarnation. Part of me DOES wish they hadn’t glossed over the reunion especially since this chapter is the last time we’ll see Scrooge and his Mom together before her utterly heartbreaking passing a few chapters down the road. But I get why we opened here instead: it’s a captivating open, with Scrooge speeding to the castle, his mother and sister trying to stave the rain off and time clearly of the essence. It sucks you in as we don’t know WHY Scrooge was summoned last time, only that it was bad enough he needed to come home, and thus ratchet’s up the tension until we find out shortly.

It turns out the back taxes on Castle McDuck are up and the castle is being sold., doing so with some glasses, foreshadowing his iconic specs wearing as the snow and brightness of the praries in various seasons mean his eyes are all done fucked up like mine. The Whiskervilles are naturally not only the prospective buyer but already trying to take the property prematurely, with Fergus and Jake holding the line, because love isn’t always on time. But Hortense is and when the Whiskervilles mock her daddy and uncle, planning to tear down the castle out of spite, her response reminds us why donald is a ball of rage and badassery...

Have I mentioned she’s my favorite part of this story? Because she is. Her response to scrooge being back is also just pure adorable.

Scrooge does get a big reunion with his dad and uncle, getting a big hug from Fergus, if squshing his cream cheese sandwitch... and yes that’s apparently a real thing. I mean I do love me some cream cheese don’t get me wrong, but it just feels weird to put it on bread as the only thing, but I guess i’m a bit spoiled with crackers and bagels in my day and age or putting it on tosat with salmon and.. saying all of this both makes me very hungry for cream cheese. So I guess i’ts not all bad it’s just weird to me, especially since I don’t think it’d keep all that well unregrigrated but I also don’t know the times that well. Or maybe when your that poor and hungry, it dosen’t matter how good it is and maybe i’m just spoiled by my upper middle class existance. I dunno. The point is i’m going to go get me some cream cheese be back in a minute. Here have some music.

youtube

For all two of you that didn’t clear out, Fergus naturally for the time, turns out to be sexist, insisting Jake get “The Women” home.

Though Rosa gets a great joke out of it by having Jake wonder if he can even reign Hortense in. And I do love Hortense’s character. Whlie i’ts simple, she’s simply an angrier version of her son without the penchant for half-assed schemes, it works and makes her stand out against the more subdued rest of the McDuck family outside of Scrooge.

Fergus explains HOW it got so bad to Scrooge: While the McDuck ancestors pooled resources to automatically pay the taxes, eventually only having two poor old men who could barely keep their family fed and a slightly less poor pulp fiction writer somewhere in America meant the taxes piled up and the Whiskervilles are within a whisker’s reach of gettng the castle, something mentioned in part 1.

It also provides a great payoff to the first part of Scrooge’s journey: while the boy bemoans only having gotten the 10,000 dollar check from the mine sale, and that will only just about cover the castle’s taxes, he feels disheratned as it’s ALL he’s accomplished.. but in a nice moment from Fergus he points it WASN’T all for nothing: Thanks to his work they get their home back. His family can move from the cramped confines of Dismal Downs back to their ancestral homeland like they always deserved. While he may of not achieved his goal of being rich yet.. he still achieved his goal of buying the castle back, the very thing that set him on this path in the first place. It’s telling though that it takes a reminder of that, that Scrooge is loosing sight of the very human, for lack of a better term, reasons he set out: while he’s finally built a better life for his family, if just so.. all he can see is that he’s not RICH. The money is starting to cloud his judgement.. and i’tll roll over him entirely before the series is over.

The Head of the Whiskervilles shows up with the Sheirff.. whose also a Whiskerville lest you thought unfair and crooked policing was a strictly american thing. But Fergus points out their too early.. and Scrooge flashes his check. And when the Head Whiskerville scoffs at a mcduck having money... Scrooge points out he didn’t believe in ghosts either and brags about his awesomeness in the first chapter, revealing what he did and leaving The SHierff pissed and the older whiskerville ready with a plan: he decide......

Sadly not with children’s trading cards but with swords, and gets past the legality issue by simply challenging Scrooge’s pride and angering him into accepting. Argus, the head whiskerville whose name I just got from the comic, reveals his plan to the Shierff: While he’s dueling Scrooge Sheirff can snatch the bank statment.. though why Scrooge didn’t you know, cash it before coming and how an american banks tatment is valid in early 1900′s Scotland...

So the Duel is on.. and like the money he’s made, the Duel is another Marker of how far Scrooge has come and how despite still not having made his fortune yet he’s rich with EXPERINCE. His experince fighting cattle rustlers and pirates means he has the reflexes to easily outfight his opponent.. though him saying he learned how to fight “Injun Style from Buffallo Bill”, i.e. learned how to fight like a native american from a white guy and beat Sitting Bull with it just makes me feel like i’m watching that episode of Saved by the Bell where Zach has to learn not to be racist but then thinks this outfit is acceptable.

Scrooge also tracks the guy using the tracking skills he learned from the blackfeet which again feel like the picture above , but send Argus running.. only to lure Scrooge into a fight on the castle battlemnt in the pooring rain and disarming him. Luckily the spirit of Sir Quackly gives the lad his sword back and Scrooge wins the fight.. but promptly gets hit by lighting while celebrating Caddyshack style.

No really Scrooge is.. or close as he got knocked into the water and is now in heaven. Sir Quackly naturally doesn’t want to see the last hope of the Clan McDuck dies and goes to talk to the tribunal of McDucks to sort it out hence the Matter of Life And Death connection.

The Tribunal is made up of former McDucks.. it turns out Scrooge is here because of Quackly: the lighting was SUPPOSED to hit the tower, distracting Argus, and they prepare to write Scrooge off because their more concerned with golf than the fact that their whole clan’s future is on the line.. which I do not get because unless you are Tiger Woods or the Film Caddyshack, golf usually is the boring garbage water of sports and this is from someone who dosen’t like sports to begin with. I do like the Missing Links of Moorshire though so there’s that. And golf episodes of shows are usually good.. the sport itself is just incredibly boring. And I sat through Mank. I know boring. I know wanting hours of my life back. Golf is the Mank of Sports.

What we get is a pretty tiresome sequence honestly: Quackly points out the tribuanls faults while their just dicks who only care about golf. Which again, Mank of sports. Or if you prefer the Cloud Atlas of sports but with SLIGHTLY less untetionall racisim and sadly much less Tom Hanks and Hugh Grant. The point is golf sucks and while I ilke the REST of this chapter this bit just dosen’t work for me and was clearly funnier in Rosa’s head, with the assholes not thinking much of Scrooge’s achievements and only liking him when they find out he’ll be a tight wad, the only funny joke in these draggy as hell three pages, not counting the start and finish of the sequence which arnet bad, as they send him back to earth with Quackly mentioning the dime, but not giving out WHY it’s important. That he has to figure out on his own and all that good stuff.

So Scrooge uses his dime to unscrew the bolts and back at the castle while Argus TRIES to pawn it off as Scrooge being a coward and depart with the bank draft....

Damnnnn that’s badass, he gets the bank note back (only knowing because one of his ancestors mentioned it, though with his memory of the dying dream gone he dosen’t know WHY), and has Fergus run into town to pay the taxes tonight before any other shenanigans happen while he keeps the two scheming dogmen captive long enough for Fergus to get too far for them to catch up. Argus plans to go with plan “Do a murder on Scrooge”.. but fines Scrooge is far from unprotected and not the only badass in his family.. I mean Hortense exists but I mean that ther’es more than two... you know what jut look at the ghost heads.

So the two run for their lives..... also they forgot you know Hortense exists.. she’d revenge murder all of them and they both know it.

So with the land safe and the taxes paid so the Family can implicitly move in, we end on a beautiful sunrise as Scrooge prepares to leave soon. Despite all the setbacks and hardship Scrooge is deterimend to still make it and knows he won’t fail forever. When Fergus mentions Gold at the end of a rainbow, Scrooge takes that, and the golden dawn as a sign. WHen Fergus understandably asks if he’s sure he’ll make it this time.. we get a nice nod to Bark’s best and most notable painting “always another rainbow to close us out”

It’s a beauitful and inspiring statment.. no matter what you face.. there’s always a light at the end of it. Always another opportunity, another goal to reach, another hill to climb.. and life to live... and it’s one i’ve taken to heart and always will.. and one that will land Scrooge his fortune yet.

Final Thoughts: This chapter is alright but like I said the two page sequence in heaven dosen’t really work for me. It’s just not funny enough and really shoudl’ve been trimmed down a page so we could get more character stuff with Scrooge and his family> Otherwise it’s a tightly paced thrilling chapter in Scrooge’s life, showing just how far he’s come and how far he has left to go. The DIsmal Downs chapter serve as a good marker of where Scrooge is and where he’s heading as I mentioned earlier, with this one showing that while he’s not hit his goal yet, he still got his family their true home back, beat his enmeis and is a legend to be. Ther’es always another rainbow.. and he just needs to find it. All in all a decent chapter outside those two pages, and a good setup for the next three glorious chapters.

Next Month on LIfe and Times: One is Scroogey and the other is FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, as Scrooge meets his arch enemy and rides a motherfucking lion. And if “rides a motherfucking lion” doesn’t make you come back I do not know why you read this. Next Time On This BLog: What is that, that Freaky Thing? It’s A naked Mole rat as we return to Kauai this time with Kim Possible and Co as Drakken tries to capture stitch and Jumba wonders if Rufus is one of his or not.

See you at the next rainbow

#the life and times of scrooge mcduck #the new laird of castle mcduck #scrooge mcduck #fergus mcduck #jake mcduck #downy mcduck #hortense duck #hortense mcduck #matilda mcduck #don rosa #comics #fantagraphics

12 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #368

“whatever doesn’t kill you, is gonna leave a scar”

Have you ever bought a YouTuber’s merch? My favorite shirt is the Day of the Dead design by Cloak, which is Markiplier's and jacksepticeye's clothing brand. Mom's friend/former co-worker also got me a Ninja Sex Party shirt because she knew I liked them. There are SO MANY YouTubers I wanna support by buying shirts. Do you think oatmeal tastes better when made with water or milk? Milk, 110%. Have you ever left a note in a library book? No. What time of day do you prefer to wash your hair? Morning. Has anyone ever spread lies about you? Yes. Have you ever taken a photograph with a celebrity? If so, did it turn out the way you wanted, or do you wish you could retake it? No. If you could move out of your home country permanently, would you? If so, where would you go? If it didn't mean being so very far from my family, I would love to move to Canada. Is there a celebrity that everyone else seems to love, but you find totally overrated? Why is it that you don’t like them? I legit don't know who's considered currently popular, and I especially don't know who they are as people. If you could volunteer for any charity, which one would you choose? Do you think it’s more important to help humans, or are animal and environmental charities equally important? Something relating to animals, and I think they're both equally important. Do you prefer holidays where you relax, or actually do things? I like a mix. Something chill, but you still do some stuff as a family. Do you think that after we die our spirit is still alive? Yes. Has anybody ever told you that you could be a model? Someone has mistaken me for a model in a picture I once took. It was one of the most flattering things I've ever heard, haha. Do you use different kinds of moisturizer for different body parts? ie. hand lotion for your hands, face cream for your face. Or do you just use one moisturizer for all body parts? Yes. Have you ever felt like you were someone’s rebound? No. Has anybody ever broken up with you over something really pathetic? What was it? Have you ever been dumped in a disrespectful way? (eg. through text, through a friend..) I have 100% been dumped in a very cowardly and disrespectful way; after dating Jason for nearly four years and being very serious, he broke up with me very abruptly over Facebook Messenger. His reason was valid, but at the same time, he NEVER talked to me about it. Apparently my depression was dragging him down. If he'd fucking communicated it, I would have explored new treatment options so goddamn fast. But no, he decided to snap his fingers and disappear. That's exactly WHY it was so traumatic, I think: it was so unexpected and sudden. Did you have a lot of role models as a kid? Animal enthusiasts like Steve Irwin and Jeff Corwin for sure. Do you feel like anyone looks up to you? Why or why not? God no. I'm just... not someone to aspire to be like. What was the last thing you found offensive? I'm not sure. Who is the nicest person you know? My mom. Do you feel safe in your country? I feel safe in NC, rather. Like I don't expect an atom bomb or terrorist attack or something in this obscure area. In the U.S.A. itself, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. America is definitely not loved by every other country. Do you feel safe where you live? Not in this city, no. Have you been falsely diagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Yup. Did y'all know I apparently have ADHD? I know, shocking. Have you ever had a doctor refuse to treat you? No. Name the strangest game you’ve ever played (video game or real game): The first Silent Hill, probably. It took a lot of reading to get it. Do you know anyone who has been struck by lightning before? No. Which cartoon character would you want to keep as a pet? Does Stitch count? Or a Pokemon. Do you like marshmallows? Yes. What is your favorite flavor of candy cane? I really like the Jolly Rancher candy canes, I think they are? Have you ever fostered an animal? No. Do you still take hot showers when it’s hot out? Not as hot, but not cold except on very extreme occasions. When writing $ sign, do you draw one line through the S or two? Two. What animal have you always wanted as a pet but couldn’t have? I'm thankful that my parents were pretty open-minded to what pets I really wanted, but one I was never allowed to have was a ferret because of how messy and smelly they are. List three people you’ve had crushes on: Jason, Sara, and Sebastian were probably my biggest crushes. Have you ever thrown up from cramps? No, but god have I felt close. List three people you had a hard time forgiving. Jason, Colleen, and my dad. Who is the most spiritual person you know? Probably my sister's mother-in-law. Would you ever start a vlog? God no, I'd bore people to tears. Are your dreams coming true yet? I mean, I guess in some ways with my mental health. In my deepest depression, what I have now was a dream, even though current me is very discontent with it. Most of my dreams, though? No. Do you struggle with depression? I've been diagnosed with severe depression since 7th grade. Are you haunted by your past? A few things won't leave me alone. What medical conditions do you have? Just a lot. There are even more that are up for debate. I've talked about my diagnosed conditions enough. Do you use a Magic Bullet? No. What does your apron look like? I don’t have one. What are your favorite spicy foods? Hot Cheetos, Takis, hot wings, jalapeno pizza... Man, I love spicy food. Which do you like better: being an adult or being a kid? Being a kid. Were you excited to be a teenager on your thirteenth birthday? I had very mixed feelings. Did you feel insecure in high school? Shit, I still do. Would you ever be friends with someone who was suicidal? What the FUCK is this question? No fucking shit I would be. Someone being suicidal in no way affects who they are as a person. Who was the biggest bully in high school? I don't think there really was one. What was your favorite class in high school? Art. Would you rather have a daughter or a son? If I wanted kids, a daughter. Have you ever written to an advice columnist? No. Have you ever had a doctor not believe what you told him? Maybe? I did however have an employee at the ER the first time I went try to pry out of me that my self-mutilation was for attention, and it wasn't until I insisted about a dozen times that it wasn't that he believed me. It's odd looking back that I got REALLY attached to him during that stay, knowing now that it was absolutely horrible and extremely unhelpful for him to do that. If you’re female, would you feel uncomfortable having a male gynecologist? I would absolutely refuse to have a male one. Do you like Lisa Frank? Yeah, like can you talk about aesthetic. What gives you nightmares? Boy, I wish I could tell you, given how much I have them. Were you ever hospitalized as a child? No. Did you get senior pictures taken? No. What color is your bicycle? I don’t have one. Did you ever have to take home a fake baby in health class? No, thank fuck. Would you rather wear ivory or white on your wedding day? What color will your bridesmaids wear? I'd rather wear black. I think red will be the bridesmaids' color. Would you rather have a swimming pool or trampoline? I want a swimming pool so damn badly so I could exercise my legs without worrying about sweating, and I can stop and rest whenever I want, unlike going walking or something. I don't think my knees could handle a trampoline. Do you think babies are cute? Some, sure. But a lot, not really. Do you dream about the future a lot? Yeah. Do you think about your past a lot? Way too frequently. How good are you at living in the moment? I'm trying to get better at it. Have you ever questioned God’s existence? Yeah. Vanilla frosting or chocolate? Chocolate. What’s your favorite foreign cuisine? I've actually been exploring Italian pasta lately. I'm not a big fan of foreign food that I've tried, though. Have you ever moved to another state? No. Did you do anything productive today? No. .-. Can you say the alphabet backwards? No, actually. Do you like flowers? Of course; does anyone not? Have you ever thought you were gonna die? I didn't care if I did or didn't. What kind of mood are you in today? I was honestly really depressed through most of it. Just health stuff was really getting to me. I just woke up from what was honestly like a four-hour nap and I feel all right, I guess. What are you craving right now? I REALLY want Domino's jalapeno pizza. Is there anyone you would seriously punch right now if you had the chance? No. What is worse, physical or emotional pain? Definitely emotional. Have you ever walked in on somebody doing something… questionable? When Dad still lived with us, I think he might have been watching... you know... on TV when I came into my parents' room for something. Idk for sure though. I didn't ask, and I don't want to know. If you were to make videos on YouTube, what would they be of? Oh god, idk. I don't want to make any. What I'd have most fun with would be reptile education, but I 1.) have literally one snake, 2.) am not extremely educated on a good number of them and don't want to be misleading, and 3.) I would run outta content fast. So, leave it to Snake Discovery, haha. Posting pictures of yourself in a bathing suit on the internet - ok or not? Yes, it's okay????? If you're talking about me personally though, you won't see me dead in a bathing suit picture. Do you typically laugh when somebody falls down? No, I gasp and see if they're okay. What is the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? Paranormal Entity. The ending is... a lot. Your opinion of Katy Perry, please? I like a couple of her songs. If you could say anything to your Mom right now… what would it be? "Thank you for absolutely everything."

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''leave a scar'' by marilyn manson

7 notes · View notes

saviorinsilk · 4 years ago

Text

New Life

Pairing: Cordelia Goode X Female OC

Warning: None

The sun was at the highest point of the day, misty clouds covering it, causing the air to not be as stifling as the day before. That made me happy as I had felt sick from the heat of the summer here in New Orleans, Louisiana. I wasn't used to weather like this and even though I had arrived at Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies over two weeks ago, I didn't think I would ever get used to the deathly humidity that made my usually wavy hair a curly, frizzy mess. I had always worn my hair down before, but now I had to get used to a big messy bun sitting on the top of my head. Since that was, unfortunately, the only way it looked presentable. Honestly, though, my new hairstyle was the least of my problems.

Back in Canada, I had managed to live my 20 years of life being an extreme introvert. I had one friend that I kept from high school but I had already moved on from her in the mere 16 days I had been a country away. I had been used to being alone a lot, but that was an unfamiliar concept here at Miss Robichaux's. The only time you were alone was when you showered, but even then there was probably a girl blow drying her hair or fixing her makeup behind the curtain. I had learned pretty quickly to savour the fleeting moments when I was locked up in the bathroom, doing the one thing everyone agreed was not a group event. I Cherished those times. I tried very hard to be invisible but in a house full of witches that wasn't exactly easy. I had managed to avoid most conversations, except one with a girl named Nan, which thankfully had been very pleasant. I sat at the back of my classes and had somehow managed to talk myself out of having to do the introduction that I and a few other new girls had been asked to perform. The real miracle was that I had lucked out with my roommates. I got placed with a girl who only tiptoed into the room late at night once everyone was already in bed and a drama queen who had better things to do then talk to "my weird ass" as she put it. I took a long drag from the small joint between my fingers, the sweet taste of lemony haze filling my lungs. I felt my body relax as I pushed the smoke from my slightly parted lips. It seemed that with every exhale the stress in my mind and the pain in my muscles floated up to the sky as the air was filled with the pungent aroma. Back home I had had a medical marijuana license for my anxiety and it had been hell trying to survive without it in the south. I sat on the lawn in the backyard, studying the huge live oak trees that acted as a tall fence around the perimeter of the property. The freshly cut grass tickled my pale legs through the thin material of a bohemian style dress that Misty, a witch who lived in the house had given me. I had left the beautiful light blue shawl that she had given me as well, on my bed. The clouds provided enough protection from the scorching sun today. "It's beautiful out here." A soft voice spoke. I was dragged out of my thoughts by the feeling of my skin leaving my bones as I let out a loud yelp and my butt literally left the ground. My head snapped around and landed on the source of the noise. Cordelia Goode was standing only a few paces behind me, her head tilted up, eyes closed, feeling the warmth of the sun on her face. My heart skipped a beat and I had to fight my jaw from dropping open.

Miss Goode was the most beautiful women I had ever laid my eyes on. Her blond hair shone brightly as the sun broke through a cloud as if her beauty opened up the heavens. She wore a mint green, long-sleeved blouse made out of the breathable fluid material that I adored. Her petite but splendid curves were enhanced by the black loose-fitting pencil skirt that hugged them. I was completely and fully taken aback by her beauty, even though I had seen her many times.

I had hurried out of rooms every chance I got and when I couldn't avoid her, like during her class or morning meeting, I made sure to kept my eyes focused on something else. I accepted the fact that I was gay, but I sure as hell wasn't eager for anyone one else to know, given what happened last time someone did. Yet at this moment I couldn't tear my eyes away. Just looking at her was enough to give me butterflies. Cordelia smiled brightly and her now open, deep chocolate brown eyes settled on my wide pale blue eyes. "A strong sixth sense might not be an ability of yours," Cordelia said with a light chuckle. I'm not sure if it was her voice that brought me back to earth or if it was the loud bang of a hammer that came from a few houses down, but whatever it was suddenly made me aware of the fact that I indeed had a joint between my black slender nails. I quickly snuffed out the sourcing end of it into the grass in front of me and tucked it in my waist, bringing my knees up against my chest. "I'm so sorry Miss Goode! I'll never do it again, I promise. Please don't tell Myrtle." I stammered, my gaze locked on my bare feet that were sticking out from the bottom of my dress. My head spun as I thought of the consciences that were surely in store for me. One of our instructors, an older woman named Myrtle had given us a very serious talk after finding one of the girls drunk on the front porch after a long Friday night. We may have been away from our parents, but us young girls needed to remember that there was never a witch that achieved greatness by goofing around with drugs, over drinking or silly antics. I could still hear the intense tone she spoke in filling my head. Cordelia's eyes scanned me and her face rose into a sweet smile. "There's no need to be sorry Ellie. At least it's natural, unlike the insane amount of hard liquor some people in this city consume. Sometimes we all need a little help relaxing." Cordelia's voice was caring, her smile turning sympathetic. I was shocked and it took me a second to process all of it. All I could manage to do was to nod awkwardly before beginning to push myself off the plush ground. Cordelia's hand came up to stop me. "Sit." She commanded. I immediately obeyed, grabbing the joint in my hand as it slid away when my butt collided with the ground. "I'm on a short break and some fresh air would do me some good as well." She lowered herself next to me, her legs crossed out in front of her. I realized that she too was barefoot and for some reason it made me smile secretly to myself. Cordelia signed as she leans back on her outstretched arms, her head lazily turning towards me. She looked like an angel with the sun shining on her light pale skin. "We missed you at the morning meeting today. I was worried." Cordelia said. She was worried? About me? Those nasty metaphoric butterflies were back and they were frantic. When I just stared at her silently, Cordelia pursed her plump lips and narrowed her eyes slightly, as if she was concentrating on me. I shook my head and averted my eyes down to my fingers, that were busy rolling the joint against my skin. "I'm so sorry. I went for a walk this morning and I got...distracted. I know how important you said it is to be there on time. I messed up. I'll pick up some extra work around the house to make up for it." I offered, my guilty conscience getting the better of me. I tried to be tough but it didn't always go the way I wanted it to when I was confronted. "As much as I appreciate your civility, I'm not angry with you. I was just concerned because you have been very punctual since you got here." She said, worry in her eyes. I was embarrassed. I had made her worry. I may have been antisocial but I never wanted my actions to upset someone else. I had always been very empathetic and I felt ashamed of my actions. "Where did you walk? Around the Garden District?" Cordelia asked. Oh ya, I had walked around the neighbour for sure, I had studied every inch of it. "Ya, and a bit farther. I may have ended up at Staker's" I said sheepishly. Staker's was the small corner store a fair distance away. I could have guessed the reaction that Cordelia would have to this information but I wasn't excepting her discouraging tone to be quite as present as it was. "Elizabeth! That is at least a 20-minute drive away! What time were you up?" She demanded, her sunny disposer absent. God, she used my full name. No one had used that name since I got here. The last person to call me Elizabeth was my mother. "3:00 am," I said quietly as I peeked up at Cordelia's unhappy face. "Ellie you shouldn't be out on the streets at that time of night! It can get dangerous out there in the dark, especially for a witch and a beautiful young lady like yourself." Cordelia explained. I felt my cheeks getting warm and I could only imagine how red they must have been. Had Cordelia just called me beautiful? "I-I know. I just couldn't sleep because it was so hot and I had a real hankering for an iced tea and a crappy corner story donut." I stuttered, praying that my blushing wasn't too noticeable. Cordelia raised her eyebrows and her expression lighten a bit. "You could have asked one of your roommates where the fans were and I'm sure Zoe or one of the other girls with a license would have taken you to fulfil your cravings at lunch if you had asked," Cordelia said. She was so sweet but she didn't know the secrets some of the were hiding. I opened my mouth to argue that I didn't think the other girls liked me that much and that I had felt like I was suffocating in the house last night and had to make an escape before I saw my grave, but I couldn't. There was something about Cordelia that had an effect on me. I would go along with whatever came out of that woman's sweet lips. I'm sure that's how most cult members had felt towards their leaders and it had never done them any good but I was a hopeless romantic. "You're right. No more late night strolls. Promise." I settled with the polite response. After all, she was my Head Mistress AND my Supreme. Cordelia smiled, satisfied. "Good. Us witches need to be careful. Although there have been lots of people that have accepted us since we have gone public, there are still those out there that would like nothing more than to put a knife to your throat and play the violin." She warned, her words painting an image in my head that I would have been fine with never witnessing. It was true though and I had seen first hand how some people just couldn't deal with diversity. It had been a gloomy day when I had been in the Denver Airport, waiting patiently in line at Annie's Pretzels to get a treat for my connecting flight to New Orleans, when some nosy bitch glanced over my shoulder. I had been reading over a letter from Miss Robichaux's Academy for Exceptional Young Ladies, excited over the invitation to come to see the school for myself. Suddenly the lady exploded in rage, shouting crude language as well as slipping in the words freak, Satanist along with just screaming WITCH over and over. She must have seen the news. I had stood my ground, not about to lose my place near the front of the line. I wanted my soft warm pretzel and no lunatic was going to take that away from me. Luckily she had been in line with a level-headed person, that dragged her away before I had been angered to the point of showing her just how much of a "freak" I was. People had never been kind to those who were different and the deep south was a perfect example of that. I may have felt like I could take care of myself but Cordelia was right. I hadn't left my whole life behind in another country to be murdered within my first month of freedom. "I've been meaning to talk to you for the last couple days but things just keep getting in the way. Life always gets a bit crazy when we have new arrivals. I would like you to come to my office so we can catch up on how you have been settling in. Also, I'd like to do a quick evaluation of your abilities, due to the distressed state you were in when you arrived. It probably wasn't a fair judgment of your capabilities." Cordelia softly placed her hand over mine, stopping my fidgeting fingers. Her skin was warm and surprising soft like silk. The contact was heavenly and I could have stayed in this moment forever if the universe had allowed it. But the anxiety crept back with the thought of the distressed state I had indeed been in when arriving at the academy. I hadn't thought about it today until now. It had been nice to live in ignorance for the short time. "Do you think you would be able to swing by after dinner tonight? Don't worry about the dishes, one of the other girls will take your shift." Cordelia said, answering my question before I even had a chance to ask it. It was almost as if she could see my thoughts in writing. God, that would be a disaster if it were true. All the innocent I projected would be gone with the brutality of my unholy thoughts. I liked the idea of skipping the chores that we had been giving since last week when the number of girls was too much for the staff and the few maids to clean up after. "Manual Labour builds character" Kyle, the butler had told the whiny girls in the kitchen. "Of course Miss. Goode." I replied, forcing a smile, across my nervous expression. It's not like I minded the thought of being alone with the women of my dreams but at the same time, the idea caused my anxiety-ridden demons to claw there way out of their dark hiding place. "Call me Cordelia, just between the two of us," Cordelia said, patting my hand that she still held tenderly. I couldn't help but smile goofily. "I better get back inside, any moment we are likely to hear Myrtle's voice." Cordelia laughed, squeezing my hand before she pushed her slender body up, gently wiping the loose grass that had stuck to her skirt. Cordelia smiled down at me. "I'll see you at dinner." She said before turning her back. No force could pull my gaze away from her as she gracefully made her way to the back door. I blinked when she disappeared into the house, the door swinging shut with a thud behind her. I couldn't help but smile to myself as the last few minutes replayed in my head. I glanced down at the grass in front of me, my eyes settling on the tarnished patch from where I had put my joint out. I extended my hand, lightly covering it. My eyes fluttered closed and I felt a familiar tingling in my fingers as the sunlight caressed my face. A surreal image of a luscious field of natural grasses lay behind my eyelids. The wind blew the praise plants that I had seen every day for the last 20 years of my life, as I began to feel the grass beneath my skin tickling between my digits. I wiggled my fingers slightly as I continued to study the blades of grass in my mind. After a few moments, I opened my eyes lazily and was pleased to see the once grey and burnt grass had grown taller than the lawn around it, and the colour repaired to the deep shade of green. I giggled and let my body weight pull me back, releasing a deep sigh as my body collided with the ground under me. The sun shone beautifully through the live oaks above. Maybe things would turn around. After all, this was a safe haven and if happiness lived somewhere, it would surely be in a place like this.

#lana writes #cordelia goode #cordelia goode x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs fanfiction #ahs fanfic #american horror story fanfic

53 notes · View notes

hippychick006 · 4 years ago

Text

12.06 - Celebrating the life of Asa Fox Episode Review/Recap

Honestly, I see a picture like this on a promo and I have no hesitation diving straight in. Okay, you all know I have a hurt!Sam fetish, complete with writhing on the floor padabooty, let’s not bang on about it.

Official episode summary: THREE WINCHESTERS ARE BETTER THAN ONE – When hunters gather together to celebrate the life and tragic death of one of their own, Sam (Jared Padalecki) Dean (Jensen Ackles) and Mary (guest star Samantha Smith) must take action when a demon starts picking off hunters one by one. John Bedham directed the episode written by Steven Yockey

My optimum number of Winchesters is two but yeah, I don’t mind a buy two get one extra free here and there.

Overall, I do really enjoy this episode, even after rewatch but putting under a cut to save space.

There’s a lot of things I don’t like about the Dabb era, and in terms of this episode, retconning Mary to be a hunter after parenthood is one of those things that niggles a little (I know she was a hunter before parenthood which also irks for different reasons) so there’s a lot I have to shake off from my mind in order to be able to enjoy an episode. And on rewatch, I had less issues than I did the first time (but given I’m coming at this straight from season 15, it could be a case of me just grasping onto absolutely anything that isn’t terrible).

Aside from the Mary thing, I love so much about this episode, not least because there isn’t a single mention of feathers who I am seriously going to struggle watching in any episode going forward thanks to 15.18 debacle.

Anyway moving swifly on…

First up is the intro and I love the introduction of Asa Fox as a character. We first meet him as a child, who Mary saves from a werewolf attack. And then we see him become interested in hunting (as Mary tells him she’s soon going to retire, and he’s worried that if she does: who’s gonna save people like me?)

Asa decides it’s going to be him and through a montage set to Bachman-Turner Overdrive’s Roll On Down The Highway, we see Asa grow up to become a pretty awesome hunter. Throughout all this time, he writes postcards to Mary, but doesn’t send them (no address) so he has quite a collection by the end and I think it’s all his hunts.

I’m so caught up in how awesome Asa is and how much I like this new character, I’m completely jarred when he comes to a sudden and unexpected end via hanging which also brings the music to an abrubt halt.

Great intro, Asa said very few words but I’m already mourning not getting to know him more.

After the opening titles, we switch to Jody who is chilling out at home about to watch Netflix when there’s a knock at the door. Turns out it’s Sam and Dean who have just finished up a hunt and stopped by to visit. Unfortunately the cardboard cutout “just add water” instant girl hunters are at a concert. Jody offers to feed them, and Dean lets her know that he killed Hitler since the last time they saw her.

Sam: *huffs and walks away Jody: *blank stare “thank you?” Dean: You’re welcome

Love it.

They have pizza and watch Netflix and have a debate about rom coms. Sam says Dean is more of “an animated Japanese erotica chick.”

A little oversharing on your brother’s habits there Sammy, but Sam is not concerned in the least. In fact, I love how totally relaxed Sam is sitting here. He’s clearly comfortable at Jody’s slumped on her sofa.

The phone rings and Jody goes to answer it, Sam and Dean have a conversation about Sam oversharing which Dean’s uncomfortable with.

Sam: Dude, be proud of your hobbies. It makes you who you are.

Supportive Sam encouraging his brother!

Jody returns and walks past them, she’s clearly upset. The boys follow to watch her start packing. They ask what’s wrong and Jody says a friend of hers died – it’s poor Asa from the opener and I wasn’t expecting a link from Jody to Asa.

The name is familiar to Dean and he’s trying to figure it out when Sam says it’s the guy Ellen used to tell stories about at the Roadhouse. Asa apparently killed five wendigos in a single night and now I’m even more mourning his loss. Seems Jody met Asa when he came to town on a hunt, she caught him out when he tried to pretend to be an FBI agent by the name, Fox Mulder. He’s worse than the Winchesters! Anyway she helped him out on a ghoul hunt and they kept in touch.The boys decide to go with her to the wake, John didn’t let them go to hunter gatherings outside of bars as he always said they were trouble.

Turns out Asa lived in Manitoba, Dean says “oh Canada” when he gets out of the car on arrival. Sam is impressed with the house which yes, nice digs for a hunter.

We meet Asa’s mother, Lorraine and she knew her son was a hunter. She’s heavily in to the drink but she’s just lost her son, so I’m cutting her some slack as I can’t imagine anything worse.

Dean finds his way to the kitchen (and the beer) which has no label. He’s concerned but “Bucky” homebrewed it himself and it’s strong. Dean introduces himself which gets the attention of the several hunters in the room,

Randy: No freakin’ way. Aren’t you dead? Like, four times? Dean: Yeah. It, uh, didn't take.

Just wait till they hear about Mystery Spot where he died over a hundred times in a single day!

Sam fanboy hunter: Wait. Your brother here? Sam? Dean: Yeah, he's still alive, too. He's –

Fanboy doesn’t even wait for Dean to finish, he’s off to find Sam. Same fanboy (named Elvis), same tbh

While Dean’s making friend’s in the kitchen – and learning not to say the name ‘Wendigo’ which turns out to be a trigger word to take a drink - Sam’s homed in on hotboy Max and his equally hot sister Alicia. Turns out their mother is a good witch who taught Alicia how to hunt bad witches.

Sam (to Max): What did she teach you? Max: Uh, mostly how to seduce men. Alicia: She also taught him some magic, which is actually more useful. Max: Eh, mostly the men thing.

Max is definitely getting his flirt on, making sure Sam knows he’s into hot men, and we cannot deny, Sam is a hot man. Before Sam can flirt back, Elvis interrupts and introduces himself and then makes Sam feel awkward when he asks Sam about being possessed by the devil. Bad Elvis!

Max (and Alicia) are both pissed on Sam’s behalf,

Alicia: Dude, you don't just ask someone about something that messed up. Max: Seriously, back off.

Protective!Max alert, I’m going to need a few minutes with my new ship Samax, though to be honest, the way Max and Alicia are sitting together, it might need to be Samaxia, which no issue other than it sounds like a drug that gets advertised on television with all kinds of side effect warnings, like may cause death...)

Elvis makes Sam feel so awkward that he runs off to go find a beer. Elvis then tries to talk to Max and Alicia and they outright just tell him to go away. Love them.

Aww, Sam got his beer and then went off to find his big brother. In fairness, I think they’ve been separated five minutes at this point and in that time Sam was accosted by Elvis. Dean’s looking through Asa’s office and discovers he has a real angel blade. Sam asks if Dean knew people tell stories about them.

Dean: Yeah. Apparently, we’re a little bit legendary. Sam: Yeah, but, I mean, so was Asa. Then a hunt went bad, and he ended up hanging from a tree, alone in the woods. Dean: He died on the job. No better way to go. Sam: You really believe that? Dean: Yeah. What, you don’t? I mean, come on, Sam, it's not like we're in the “live till you're 90, die in your sleep” business. This? [Dean points at Asa’s hunting wall] This only ends one way.

It’s difficult watching this knowing the ultimate end as I know Sam’s never agreed with this, being the one to want to see an end to hunting at some point; but you can’t deny Dean has been consistent in how he thinks he’s going to go out and has always seemed at peace with that.

Sam says they should get back and Dean agrees but warns Sam not to say “wendigo” to anyone. I love that he warns Sam. Every time Dean is a good brother, it just reminds me how much of a bad sister I am as I would not have passed on the warning. Sam’s confused about why he can’t say it but seems to just accept it.

Only a few people are around by the end of the night, still telling stories of Asa’s epic hunts - mainly Bucky. Why show, why give us this amazing man and kill him off in the first five minutes?!.

Anyway, turns out that the “ghoul story” from earlier had more to it. Asa and Jody got together for some “sweet sweet time alone”. Jody plays it down, says it was more of a casual thing. Turns out Asa could beat Dean in the ladies game and I think even Alicia and Max mother was one of his conquests (we saw this in the opening montage as well, Asa kissing a different woman in his car in between hunts).

Randy asks if people want a beer and heads to the kitchen, and I fear Randy is not long for this world as he walks down the hallway alone. We stay on him as he returns and my anxiety is kicking in, even with expecting something, it’s sudden when his throat is slit and he’s dragged off down a side corridor by someone wearing black.

Alicia walks back into the living room carrying two beers – and we’re reminded she’s dressed all in black?! Alicia? Surely not.

We see someone enter the door and only see their boots as they walk, they stop just outside the living rom where everyone is talking. Loraine hears the footsteps stop and tells the stranger to come in and not hover.

Turns out it’s Mary. Awkward Winchester family reunion, given I think from memory Mary walked out an episode or so ago.

Sam, Dean, Jody and Mary go somewhere more quiet to talk.

Mary: What are you doing here? Dean: What are you doing here?

I love the reversed dynamic of Sam being go between Dean and Mary (where it was the reverse between Sam and John). Sam introduces Mary to Jody as their mother.

Jody: I thought– I thought you were... Mary: I was. Jody: [quietly] Wow. Wow! [She hugs Mary excitedly] It is so nice to meet you!

She belatedly sees the awkward tension and ships out to give them “some family time”

Dean asks where Mary’s been and she responds she’s been using John’s journal to work through a few things.

Dean: You could’ve just asked us, you know. Sam: Dean, come on. Dean: She could’ve. Mary: It’s okay. He’s right. But… This is something I needed to do alone. I… Listen, most of the people I knew are dead. And then I remembered Asa. He was so young when I met him, I thought he must still be around. And then… I saw an article about his death, and, uh… Dean: So you’ll text us once a week, maybe, but you’ll drive all the way to Canada to see some dead guy? Well, that’s awesome. I’m gonna get some air. Mary: Dean, wait...

Mary tries to go after Dean but Sam stops her. Sam knows his brother.

Jody on the other hand stops Dean at the door and pretty much says she’s here if Dean wants to talk about anything other than killing Hitler (which Dean spent the five hour drive telling her in excruciating detail.). She talks about giving anything to have her dead husband and son back but at the same time she would be worried it wouldn’t be the same which gives Dean some food for thought in regard to his complicated relationship with Mary.

Mary’s in the kitchen getting a beer, Lorraine introduces herself as Asa’s mother. Mary introduces herself as Mary Winchester, which Lorraine can’t believe as Mary should be her age. Mary: It’s a long story. She says she’s sorry. Lorraine says she should be, Mary’s the reason her son didn’t become an astronaut. She’s very bitter and hands Mary the box with the postcards Asa wrote to her. Mary defends herself and says she saved Asa’s life.

Lorraine: [scoffing] What am I supposed to say to that? After you, Asa got so… Hunting was his whole life. He never married. Never had a family, kids. And now… enjoy the wake.

I love this next scene between Sam and Mary. Sam finds Mary and asks if she’s all right. She thrusts the box of postcards at him and says she’s fine. She goes into Asa’s office and tells Sam she saved Asa when he was a kid, and this is all on her.

Sam: Well, no. Obviously, mom, he made his own decisions. And he helped a lot of people, you know?

Sam and free will and then we have Season 15 debacle. Pfff

Mary tells him that everywhere she goes and everything she does just feels wrong, but she’ll get used to it.Sam tells her he understands, she just needs space and so does Dean, (who we see outside drinking from his flask), He says Dean is just scared they are going to lose her again,

Sam: “that – that because we're (Sam and Dean) hunters, you're gonna walk away. But I know that’s not true. Even looking at these… [Sam holds out the box of Asa’s postcards to Mary] I mean, you saved Asa in 1980, um, after Dean was born. After everyone thought you quit hunting. Seems like you couldn’t stop then, and… I’m guessing you can’t stop now, either. This job, this life, is crazy and insane. But it’s in our blood. Come on. [Sam puts his arm around Mary] Mary: Where we going? Sam: To say goodbye to Asa.

I love that Sam understands more than anyone the desire to have normal/safe, pulling against the need to save people/hunt things so I love this scene between him and Mary and I like Mary a little bit more because of it. Damn you Jared! You even got me to like Claire once!

They go to say goodbye to Asa and I like when Mary undoes the cover over his face and we get blood dripping onto Asa’s forehead. It’s interesting to have both Sam and Mary in this scene in a callback to Sam’s nursery scene. They both look up and it’s Randy, tied to the rafters, dead and bleeding from his neck wound.

Back in the living room, Bucky is still telling stories about Asa. Sam and Mary rush in and Sam tells everyone they need to leave because Randy is dead. I like this, it’s like a murder mystery now. All of a sudden, water is shut off (this is new canon?), and the twins can smell Sulphur. Lights are flickering. Demon alert!

Bucky tells them it’s Jael, a crossroads demon who hangs people, which is his thing, snaps necks (Asa), slits throats (Randy). Turns out Asa exorcised the demon but now it’s back. Bucky tries to open the door, Elvis helps but it slams shut.

Max (trying to impress Sam): you’re wasting your time [he waves a hand in front of the door and we see red symbols] Max says the entire house has been warded.

Not sure if that impressed Sam or not but Max had me at “Seriously, back off” and now this? *Fans self

Anyway, it means they are trapped inside.

Back outside with Dean, he’s still drinking from his flask. He hears footsteps and doesn’t bother turning around, just tells the person to “go away”. I think he thinks it’s Mary, but turns out to be Billy saying “you’re not the boss of me.”

Dean: Billie. What’re you doing here? Billie: My job. [Dean chuckles] Well, I’m not dead yet. Billie: Shame. But actually, I just finished inside. I was reaping a fresh soul.

Wait, what? But Dean’s brother is in there! Dean’s pissed and marches to the door.

Inside, Bucky is telling the group more about the demon Jael. Asa exorcised the demon but not before it killed a first nations girl by tying a noose around her neck.

Outside Dean is rattling and banging on the door

Dean: Sam. Sammy! Hey! Billie: You can huff and puff, but that house is on supernatural lockdown. They can’t even hear you.

Bucky is still expositioning and Dean is still trying to get past that old Winchester nemesis “the door”, even throwing a solid statue at it, but nothing is happening.

Okay, we’ve now reached the only part of this episode I have an issue with. We’ve got a group of hunters standing around wondering who the demon is amongst them and not one of them can remember the tests for a demon. Sam come on! You knew Christo in season 1 and you performed a reverse exorcism in season 8.

Anyway Elvis accuses Alicia of not being in the room and Max says Dean wasn’t in the room either (uh Max buddy, accusing Sam’s brother isn’t going to win you any points in the whole wooing thing, just fyi - of course wooing Sam in the first place is pretty dangerous terratory)

Finally Alicia remembers about holy water but they are all out. Elvis says they can just make more but Mary reminds them the water is off. Uh? The toilet bowl?

Dean’s stopped attacking the door and turns to Billie and asks, What did you do? Billy says it wasn’t her, she’s just cleaning up the mess but “it’s always nice to see a Winchester who can’t get what he wants.”

Dean: You think this is funny? Huh? Hunters are dying in there. Billie: Everyone dies.

Dean is pretty much losing his shit and I’d like to remind people that at this point, he doesn’t know which hunter has died.

Back with the group, Sam finally remembers his brother is outside so all focus is on Alicia who starts coughing. I think she’s faking it to screw with her brother (totally what I would do) but no,

Alicia/Jael: Alicia’s not here right now. [Her eyes glow red] Leave a message. [she punches Max] Oh, you’re a fun group. We’re gonna have a good time tonight.

Jael leaves Alicia in a cloud of demon smoke and flies into the fireplace. Sam and Max get Alicia up (Samaxia forever – warning for side effects which may include internal bleeding and even death)

They now need to figure who in the house Jael has jumped into. Jody gives the orders (I’ll forgive this, she’s a cop) and they pair off to search the house (why not sweep room to room?), Anyway, Sam’s with Mary and Jody’s with Bucky.

Dean’s worked out that Billy got in to reap the soul so if she can get in, she can get Dean in.

Billie: I could, I suppose. But– Dean: Do it! Billie: But it’s a one-way ticket. And you’re gonna owe me one.

Billie, Sammy is in there, do you think Dean cares about “cosmic consequences” at a time like this? There is a door between them right now ffs! Sammy may even be dead and Dean does not want him decomposing before he can find a crossroads to make a deal!

Elvis who was supposed to be partnering with Lorraine, left her briefly to get her a double (vodka I presume?). Anyway Dean comes flying through the door like the overly dramatic bitch he is whenever Sam is in danger.

Dean (whipping out demon knife): Where’s my brother? [he’s already marching past them btw to go look]

THIS IS MY SHOW! What moron thought this show was going to end with DeanCas? Come on, don’t be shy, show yourselves so we can point and laugh because you are going to have an epic tantrum approximately 3 and a half years from this episode which could have been prevented if you’d watched the damn show, instead of wallpaper. By the way, in this episode, Castiel was played by the statue Dean threw at the door. [It represents the violent nature of the Destiel relationship – I have a 500 page meta on this if anyone is interested].

Lorraine accuses Dean of being the demon.

Dean: Demon? Lorraine: Kill him! Dean: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Easy, lady. Look, I’m not a demon, okay? I’m one of the good guys. Now stick with me, do what I say, and everybody’ll get out of here, okay? Everybody!

Elvis – making far too much use of his screentime matches Dean’s dramatics by pulling out his own knife and saying ominiously “well, not everybody” [complete with red flashing eyes].

In this episode, Dean is allowed to be a proper hunter and is able to fight. He taunts the demon, “You’re kinda slow for a demon, aren’t you?” which, he seriously is, no idea how this demon got my wonderful favourite side character “Asa” killed (if he’s not in the final watching Kansas play at the Road House along with all my other favourites, I will be pissed and have a full week meltdown on Twitter – just fyi) [*I won’t really because I’m not insane. Please don’t report me.]

Dean tells the demon to go to hell. The demon tells Dean that Hell is a “complete train wreck” (uh, no, what is a “complete train wreck” is most of season 12-15) Hell is much more pleasant. Dean repeats for the demon to go to hell and starts reciting an exorcism (finally, the smart brother is in the room). Love hearing Dean recite the exorcism. Demon says nuh uh though and snaps Elvis’ neck complete 180 which causes Lorraine to scream, the black smoke escapes from Elvis still standing body. Elvis collapses on the floor and Lorraine is wailing. And I can say “Elvis has left the bulding” which I’ve been waiting the entire episode to be able to say. I’m marginally disappointed Dean didn’t.

Dean helps Lorraine up while shouting “Sammeh!” which brings Sammeh running to the living room.

Mary: Dean. We thought you were outside. Dean: Yeah, I got back in. Sam: How? Dean: It was a one-time deal. Won’t happen again.

Thankfully, there’s no time for Sam to initiate the Spanish inquisition on THAT right now. They account for everyone – except Elvis obviously. The lights go out and everyone puts flashlights on (Max and Alicia have the phone torch on – me as a hunter!) but Dean pulls out the knife which Alicia and Max look at.

Alicia: Mm, impressive. Dean: Demon blade. Kills ‘em dead. Max and Alicia in unison: Nice.

While I try to work out a Sam/Max/Alicia/Dean ship name, Bucky suggests lighting candles, Dean says they need a devil’s trap. Sam says “on it” and Dean is right there with him “yep”. My boys working in sync!

Dean’s plan is for them all to stand in the devil’s trap. The person who won’t get in, is the demon. Clever plan. Mary is impressed and it’s nice for her to see how well one of her sons turned out as a hunter and the other is a cute dumbass – at least Sam had a flashlight.

Mary goes off on her own for some reason and goes to get the angel killing blade from Asa’s office.

Max tries flirting with Sam again, asking what kind of pentagram they are doing

Sam: Standard pentagram. Nothing fancy. Max: I like a Fifth Pentacle of Mars. It’s got more character.

Max bringing his A game to the flirting, I like it. Alicia doesn’t like all the flirting: “Because character is really what matters right now.” They are just like Sam and Dean! Spin off of codependent witch siblings right tf now. Please and thank you.

Jody sees Mary return and is suspicious she was off on her own. She whispers to Sam that she thinks Mary is possessed, she gets increasingly worried which draws the immediate attention of Dean who comes over and asks what is going on (demon knife drawn out and ready once again). Sam quietly tries to tell Dean that Jody thinks their mom is a demon, but Jody shouts, No, I don’t think, I know! I know she’s a demon. [points accusingly at Mary] which prompts Bucky to steps away from Mary and reaches for his knife.

Mary: Hey! Jody: Kill her! Use the knife! Kill her now! Sam: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. Hold on a second, [turns to look at Jody] Jody, you… You don’t sound like yourself. Dean (not even looking around):That’s because she’s not herself. Are you?

Oh my poor Sam Dumbchester, on rewatch, this episode did you dirty, I was sucked in by my love of Asa Fox and the whole door thing and the Sammeh! I’m so ashamed. Hands my bitter Sam girl platinum membership card back to the bitter Sam girl club in recognition I am no longer worthy of holding it Jody turning into the red eyed demon is in the running for worst “playing of a different character ever” but it’s up against stiff competition from Casifer, Empty!Castiel, Gestapo!Castiel and gayforpay!Castiel and is mercifully short. My main issue with this demon is there is no real consistency through the different bodies it inhabits. They should all have agreed how to play it imo and I do think Kim goes Disney villain OTT but not enough to cause embarrassment, just would have been better if the performance had been toned down some.

Demon Jody had hoped they would kill their mom “wouldn’t that be a riot?”

Dean (sarcastically): Yeah, super fun

Sam tries to attack Jody and is thrown. Big brother is pissed and tries to attack but is thrown too. Uh, how come the lame demon can fight now?

Anyway, Mary attacks and tries to kill Jody with the demon blade and manages to scratch her arm, but Sam says no and pulls Mary away. .

Mary: What are you doing?! She’s a demon. We kill demons. Sam: No, but she’s Jody.

I like this that Mary doesn’t know you don’t just go around killing people, you try to save them first.

The demon is bored and claps her hands, and everyone collapses onto the ground and cannot move (where was this kickass power earlier?). The demon says she’s heard so many stories about the Winchesters, she stands over sam and says, “The idea that he left a meatsuit alive is just so deliciously weak.” Sam gives his “bite me” face.

As for the rest, she’s been inside their heads and starts spilling out secrets – the twins are Asa’s children (I forgot about this detail), Lorraine apparently tried to sabotage Asa’s truck to stop him going out hunting (which is a nice call back to him trying to fix the truck in the episode earlier). She says Jody fantasized about a life with Asa. Bucky manages to get up to attack but Jody grabs him and holds him on his knees.

Jody/Jael: And you. Bucky. Brave, brave Bucky. I was there that night. Tell these nice, stupid people what you did. Tell them what you took from me. Asa was mine.

I like this next scene, Sam manages to stand up and start the exorcism before he’s thrown across the room again. Dean picks up where Sam left off, until he’s thrown through a glass door, the twins are next and get pinned to the wall.

Bucky finally confesses that he killed Asa [and the way he’s dramatically thrown to the floor would never have made it into a scene in seasons 1 to 5]. Oh show, weeps for the quality that once was. Season 12 (heavy sigh).

Mary stands up and finishes the exorcism which sends the demon back to hell.

Sam rushes over to help Jody who says, “That… sucked”

[Try re-watching your performance Kim!]

Lorraine: Bucky, what did you do?

They all turn and look at Bucky.

Bucky says they were hunting in the woods for Jael and he wanted to go back and get the angel blade. Asa wanted to keep hunting but Bucky pushed him and Asa fell and cracked his head and died, which I feel kind of sorry for, not like he did it deliberately and he lost his best friend [and lets be real, it’s not the worst thing a supposed “best friend” has done on this show]. It’s a very tragic end for a great hunter (don’t fast forward to 15.20)

Bucky asks what they are going to do to him.

Alicia: Tell everyone, every hunter we meet. They’re gonna know your name, Bucky. Know what you did. Max: You like stories. This is the story everyone’s gonna tell about you. Forever

I guess I get Max and Alicia’s anger, Asa being their dad and all. It’s just tragic all round because I do feel it was an unlucky accident and Bucky clearly misses his best friend.

I like the setup of the funeral pyre, now 3 hunter bodies being burned, Jody, Lorraine and Mary are standing in front of the pyre. Alicia and Max are resting against their car and Dean and Sam are doing the same against baby.

Lorraine tells Mary she was wrong, “Asa did have a family. He even had kids. I’ve got grandchildren. Suppose I should go meet them.” She walks over to hug Alicia and Max.

Jody and Mary are left at the pyre,

Jody: I don’t know what’s going on between you and your boys, but I gotta tell you, mom to mom, they are good men. Best I’ve ever met. Mary: I know. They’re not the problem.

Jody walks away and leaves Mary on her own, which is Dean’s opportunity, he taps Sam and they both go over to Mary. They ask if she’s okay but Billy appears and says, “She’s really not.” Mary asks who she is and Dean says she’s a reaper that got him back inside.

I would like to have much preferred to have seen Sam’s reaction as well as Mary’s but we don’t get this and it’s a bad choice of angle for me. Billie says Dean owes her one and looks at Mary, “This one. This one right here.”

Billie is still on her “what’s dead should stay dead” kick. She’s a stickler for the laws on that (and never really changes tbh, I don’t really get Billie’s overall arc.)

Mary says she didn’t ask to come back, Billie agrees but says the dead man’s look in Mary’s eyes says she hates it, that she feels she doesn’t fit, like she’s all alone.

Dean: Well, she’s not alone.

Billie (still looking at Mary): Tell me I’m wrong. [Sam and Dean turn to look at Mary and kudos to Jared once again for saying so much with no words as to how he looks at Mary here]

Billy says she’s not here to hurt Mary, “I’m here to offer you mercy. A one-way ticket upstairs, away from all of this.” [Again poor choice of camera for this scene as we see Dean but not Sam]. Mary asks how it would work.

Sam: Mom. [My poor boys!] Mary: You just kill me again? Billie: Reapers don’t kill people. Rules. Mary: Well… then… [she looks up at Sam and Dean] Me: Don’t you dare break my boys fragile hearts! Mary: Then I guess you’re just gonna have to wait. Billie: Winchesters… Me: Same tbh Billie Billie: …if you change your mind– if any of you change your minds– you know my name. [she disappears]

Sam asks if this means Mary is coming home. Mary says yeah, but follows up with: Not quite yet. I just need a little more time.

Sam looks disappointed ☹ but he understands

Dean: Can we buy you breakfast at least? Mary: Bacon? Dean: All the bacon. Mary: I would love that.

I love that Dean and Mary can find a common bond through food. Sam hugs Mary as they walk together towards the Impala

Despite a couple of wobbly bits sprinkled here and there and my poor Dumbchester Sammeh, I still really love this episode overall, the good far outweighs the issues I have and I’ll happily re-watch it as a stand-alone MOTW. I loved the introduction of the witch twins and wish we’d got to see a lot more of them *coughs* and a lot less of other “fan favourite” characters.

It will be interesting where this one will ultimately fall in my definitive list.

#spn rewatch #12.06 #celebrating the life of asa fox #episode review #episode recap #Dabb era actually has some quite good episodes to enjoy #if you ignore being repeatedly punched in the face with Cass is best friend/brother

15 notes · View notes