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crowdedimagines · 4 years ago

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Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go.

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?

#harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #Harry Styles

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healingchildhoodtrauma · 4 years ago

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*trigger warning: child abuse, suicide

The unraveling of a lifetime of denial

At the beginning of last year, I cut all ties with my abusive brother after I started having vivid, highly disturbing nightmares about him. I could no longer deny how badly he hurt me. I couldn’t even see his name or picture without going into a flashback.

Also at the beginning of last year, I went no contact with my narcissistic mother. She pretended to empathize and believe me about my brother to then go behind my back and complain about “having to handle me with kid gloves” (although she never has, even when I actually was a kid).

I lived with my sister from then until February of this year, who showed me beyond a shadow of a doubt (and even admitted) that she’s just like my mother. So after a lot of wrestling with my own denial, I had to go no contact with her as well.

That left my dad. I stayed in contact with him until about April/May of this year! But once I started being honest with myself about everyone in my family, peeling back the layers of denial.. and no longer had to live in disassociation because I no longer lived with any family members, it became more clear to me all the ways he was abusive on his own. There was like a tier of abusive people in my family, everyone abused me physically when I was a child and continued to emotionally even into my adulthood. I started to realize any connection to my family at all kept me stuck in this role as the scapegoat - I saw myself through their eyes: as worthless, deserving abuse, my feelings didn’t matter. I was struggling with money and my dad offered to help, the last time I saw him he was cold and indifferent as he always is, but I couldn’t make excuses anymore. I couldn’t fawn anymore. I’m an adult now, I don’t need these trauma responses to survive, I don’t have to retraumatize myself any longer. I remember feeling fine before seeing him, then after I saw him I was hit with a huge wave of feeling suicidal. It couldn’t be any clearer to me what I had to do. It was excruciating: but I had to let go of the final person in my family I was making excuses for.. I was believing a fairy tale in my head about, “at least I had this person” when really they were hurting me along with the rest of them. I made the decision to give up my car, to accept any financial consequences that would arise from not depending on him any longer or seeing/speaking to him in any way. My inner child wasn’t safe around him. I had to hide my vulnerability, and I already have to do that with the rest of the world. To try to do that around the people that should feel like home, is draining and depressing.

The shedding of the denial and disassociation I lived in for my entire life was the most painful and difficult process, I don’t even know how to convey it or put it into words. I remember I sat down at my laptop and started writing a google document intended to be the start of a book. I thought I could sum up my mother’s narcissistic abuse rather quickly. But when I started writing, in a house without any family or abusers, the truth came flooding back to me. I was never safe. My childhood was characterized by violence and threats of violence. I have actually been abused by everyone in my family. Not just emotionally but physically as well. I was like a lamb among wolves. The more I learned about narcissistic mothers and how they triangulate and manipulate the whole family, I felt like I finally understood what was wrong with my family. I see now why my mother worked so hard to keep my controlled and gaslit. Once I started seeing this I couldn’t unsee it. I tried writing about my childhood and realized there were entire years I have barely any recollection of. For the first time in my life since childhood I was flooded again with the sheer terror of my childhood. It wasn’t just neglect. They weren’t just busy or stressed. They were purposely cruel. No amount of minimization or invalidation could make me unsee this truth.

For months I lived in this terror. It didn’t help that there were many compounding factors leading to the decline of my mental health. I got the worst physical injury I’ve had in my life, and every time my wife would undress, clean and redress the wound, I would go into a flashback of when I was physically hurt by my family members and couldn’t get away or fight back. I cried and cried and cried, I shook, I screamed. I didn’t understand what was happening for a while, I didn’t understand why I felt so trapped and powerless and terrified. My wife of course wasn’t purposely hurting me at all, she was helping me, doing what had to be done, and it tore her up to see me in so much pain. It was also physically gruesome to me. I couldn’t look at the wound. It also impaired my functioning more than it already was, because it was my right hand. I couldn’t open or pour myself drinks, I couldn’t really make myself meals, I couldn’t type on my phone which was how I was journaling.

Around this same time the pandemic hit. Along with my constant flashbacks and my finger injury, I started developing OCD like behavior: intense fear of not washing my hands enough, of anything being dirty or contaminated, I felt like I could never get clean enough. I was having daily panic attacks, along with the flashbacks and uncontrollable crying that would happen twice a day when my finger was being cleaned and dressed. I started starving myself. I developed constant headaches, dizziness, fatigue, my muscles and bones started to hurt. I started sleeping all day and only being awake at night in the darkness of my room. I barely left my room, even to go to the bathroom or kitchen. Sitting up became difficult. I remember almost blacking out, feeling swallowed by darkness, and surrendering to it: thinking yes, please, take me, finally. I developed agoraphobia, afraid to even sit on my porch, everyone and everything felt like a threat. I tried sitting by a window and still felt exposed and scared, I’d end up quickly shutting the blinds if I saw anyone and always felt myself scanning for danger. I knew this was CPTSD. I tried a couple different jobs and couldn’t do them, due to my physical and emotional impairments. By June, I gave myself til the end of the month for things to get better. I said to myself, if things don’t get better by then, I give myself permission to kill myself. A wave of relief and joy washed over me. Only one more month!!! Finally, no more suffering! Finally, no more living for others while I am already dead inside. Although at the same time there was this tiny little voice inside me that knew these things I was experiencing were going to get better in time. I kept this plan a secret from my wife. I planned what I was going to do and where my body was going to be found. Then the next day I tried hanging out with her like normal and she started talking about the future. Months from now, things we could do together. I started crying, I didn’t tell her why, I just knew there was no way I could do this to her, no matter how much I was suffering. Within a couple days I told her to keep the bottle of pills with her at night while she went to work because I wanted to overdose on them. Positive change came at the end of the month via a work from home job I tried to do, but could only do for 2 weeks before burning out. But it was enough for me to keep on living and not feel like a burden. Eventually I told my wife about the deal I made with myself and why, and she assured me she wanted me around even if I couldn’t work. Around the time I made the plan I remember being in the bathroom, looking in the mirror, into my eyes, and it was like my inner child inside me said to me, Don’t give up on me.

I tried a free counselor and she wasn’t good. I tried an anti depressant and the side effects were too bad for me to stay on it. This whole time I was self medicating with cannabis but at times it would make the flashbacks and paranoia worse. My finger finally healed. I finally found a supplement that helped me have enough energy to get out of bed more, to cook and even to dance. I learned what to do during flashbacks. I learned how to comfort my inner child. I learned about “high functioning” autism and how so many females go undiagnosed or get misdiagnosed as BPD (which I was in 2013). It explained so many of my difficulties my entire life, including my being taken advantage of by so many people, my hyper sensitivity and my current burnout. The term masking perfectly described what I’ve been doing my entire life. I thought everyone mimicked personalities they thought were likeable to such a degree, I thought everyone followed scripts in their head. I started seeing how the flashbacks from trauma I’ve been experiencing have been compounded by the rumination/brain loops from autism, and meltdowns from sensory overload. I’m finally at a place where I feel like I know how to manage flashbacks and I’m aware of my sensory intolerances/sensitivities. I’m finally at a place where I consistently listen to my body, I don’t push myself into meltdowns. I’m still not working, I still have physical symptoms that we think may be MS but we don’t have insurance for me to see a neurologist yet. I am not starving myself, I’m forcing myself to eat. I’ve been able to go outside more. It’s September, we’re still in a pandemic and I still have trauma to work through, but it’s a lot less on my plate then a couple months ago. I’ve been stretching and even lifting weights from time to time. I’ve been singing and writing. This whole time I’ve been researching everything intensely, it’s one of my “preoccupations”. I’ve learned so much about CPTSD, childhood trauma, narcissistic abuse/families and I continue to learn every day. If you read this far, thank you for reading. I just had to get this out. I’m aware it’s not grammatically perfect. I feel a shift happening as I understand myself more and more. I don’t think too far in the future. But I know I’m heading in the right direction. I know I made the right decision in going no contact with my family. I know it wasn’t my fault they did what they did/are who they are. I’m finding joy in the little things. I still have bad days, healing is like that... two steps forward, one step back. I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through. I want more girls with autism to have support and understanding. I don’t want kids to go through abuse and blame themselves. I don’t want scapegoat children of narcissistic mothers/families to feel obligated to stay in contact with their parasitic families. I want mental health care to be better, more accessible and more affordable.

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namjuicyy · 6 years ago

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The Contract - Chapter One

Masterlist | Requests are open.

Genre: Angst, fluff, smut.

Genre of this part: Angst.

Word Count: 2.6k.

Summary: Your life is turned upside down when a contract is pushed your way. But what happens if you sign it?

Warnings: BTS arguments, mentions of other groups in a sexual setting, multiple sexual partners suggestions.

Taehyung plonked himself down on the makeup chair, a sigh escaping his lips as he did so. He was tense, frustrated, and completely exhausted. There were heavy bags under his eyes from all the training, physical exertion and the lack of sleep that made him look a good ten years older than what he actually was. And he wasn't the only one looking that way. All six of his brothers were the same. And, as a result, each one was irritable and prone to snapping at their members with no warning. It was like the seven of them were walking on eggshells, constantly tiptoeing around one another in fear of starting an argument. They'd been doing this for five years. And whilst they enjoyed it, they were tired. Physically and emotionally.

They were tired of the early mornings and the late nights. They were tired of the plagiarism accusations and hate. They were tired of their privacy being invaded, by the press, the fans and even themselves. Their six-bedroomed apartment (that was originally four) was so small and pokey, with thin walls, there was just no privacy at all. Jungkook couldn't count the amount of times he'd walked in on one of his hyungs doing something, either in the bathroom or on their bed. He couldn't count the amount of times he'd had to shove his headphones in his ears to drown out the sounds of sex coming from bedrooms across the apartment. Well, that's a lie. He could. But that was only because his hyungs getting laid happened so infrequently he couldn't exactly complain about the noise. Not when it was something they obviously needed.

That was one of the few things that they loathed about their job. Worldwide, there was this assumption from the general public that with fame came thousands of young women willing to throw themselves cunt-first at their favourite celebrities and that they'd be having sex all the time. The Rolling Stones managed it. They were constantly involved in some kind of sex scandal, Namjoon was pretty sure of it.

But Bangtan Sonyeondan didn't get that side of fame. They got the busy schedules and the untrustworthy women who would be more than willing to sell just how big the member's dicks were to the first magazine who would buy her story. The boys couldn't trust anyone, and, as a result of this, couldn't do what normal twenty-year-old men usually do which was getting balls deep in the first consenting woman they could find. Hoseok couldn't remember the last time he felt a woman. The warmth and wetness that he heard so often in porn. Instead, like his members, he was forced to lube up his hand (or his Fleshlight if he was lucky enough to be at home at home) and go to town listening to two people fucking, wishing it was him.

The lack of intimacy made them frustrated in more ways than one. Sexually, of course, but also generally. It had gotten to the point where, the morning before a performance, Jimin and Jungkook had broken out into a huge argument over something so small and trivial, no one could remember just what it was about. The hyungs could just hear bickering coming from two of the maknaes, and the words becoming more and more venomous as the argument was allowed to continue. Yoongi rolled his eyes, locked his phone, and stood up, removing himself from the chair and heading into the corridor.

"Right!" His voice was loud and dominating, and echoed around the hallway. Despite the volume, he still hadn't raised his voice. Not really. Despite the steely tone his voice carried, he was still as calm and serene as ever. The power of his voice rang with, was enough to silence the arguing brothers, and force their attention onto him. "I don't give a fuck what this is about," Yoongi continued sternly, "I don't give a fuck who started it and I certainly don't give a fuck as to why you're still continuing. What I give a fuck about is the fact that there are thousands of Armys outside that door, waiting for us to put on the performance of a lifetime. And so help me God, if either of you let them down I will strangle the pair of you. Do you understand me?" Jungkook and Jimin didn't answer verbally, they just nodded. They daren't mess with Yoongi when he put on his 'dad voice' and threw his weight around.

Yoongi stepped back, no longer blocking the entrance to the makeup room and pointed to the door. "Now, get in there and get yourself sorted. ___'s been in there for ages waiting for your sorry asses and it's not fair on her to have to work overtime when you two can't help but butt heads. Go on."

You were stood at Jungkook's station, joining the rest of the room in silence as you listened to what the argument was about. Jungkook's regular artist was out for the day. She couldn't leave her bed apparently. Which is why you chose to step in on her behalf. Jungkook sat next to Taehyung, throwing himself down onto the chair just as his hyung did. He was clearly so done with everything, you weren't entirely sure what to say. Instead, you did what you knew would make him feel better by leaning down over him, and dangling your arms over his shoulders, resting them on his chest, hugging him from behind. Jungkook always loved it when he was in a bad mood and someone hugged him. And he loved it even more when it was you doing it.

"What was that all about?" You asked gently as you began working on his face. Not that he needed it. He was so infuriatingly beautiful without makeup, it made him ethereal when he wore it.

Jungkook sighed, frustration ever present in his voice. "Hyung taking things too far again. Not being able to take a joke."

"What was the joke?"

"Some crack about how his voice sounded like he was on helium."

You rolled your eyes and tutted. "Before a show, JK. That wasn't very smart was it? You know how he feels about his voice. Even at the best of times he's insecure about it."

"I just wanted to lighten the mood, ___-ah. I promise I didn't mean to offend him."

"I know, honey. But there's a time and a place but this is certainly not it."

"But he didn't just tell me to shut up like he usually does. He went really off the rails." Jungkook's expression changed from annoyance to worry. "He's never done that before. He started screaming at me. Calling me impertinent and disrespectful. I just wanted to make him laugh."

You could see his eyes beginning to water. "Okay. Alright. Here's what we'll do: we'll stop talking about it, and you won't cry and ruin everything I've already done so far, okay?"

Jungkook chuckled a little and nodded.

The concert went well, thankfully, and everyone put their differences aside to perform properly. But when the curtain fell, so to speak, and they were sure they were away from the fans, tensions began to rise again.

The car ride back to the hotel was silent but tense. No one dared say anything just in case the hatred for one another would spread. Jin sat there, looking out the window, watching the nightlife roll by and wondered how it had come to this. How they could have gone from being on the top of the world to almost hitting rock bottom. He'd been thinking it for a while, as had Namjoon. Maybe they should give it a rest, and move onto separate projects. Maybe.

They all sat in the only suite of the booking, and made sure Jimin and Jungkook could see each other as they discussed the events that had unfolded not five hours ago. Sejin, one of their managers, decided it was his job to join the discussion on behalf of the company, and as a friend, given that the argument was so large, it tore a hole in their teamwork. The boys confessed their feelings, confessed how tired they were, and how lonely they felt, and that they just didn't know what to do.

Things were resolved within two hours, a record for the boys. Usually arguments would last a week and would need a whole weekend of calm discussions to put the fire out. Maybe it was because of how fast Jimin and Jungkook were willing to apologise to one another. No one knew. But what they did know was that they were all physically and emotionally drained and were ready for their beds.

Sejin thought for a moment. His mind was ticking like a clock as he processed everything he'd heard and everything he knew after spending many years working alongside the band, and in the music industry. His voice raised as he spoke. "I think I might have a solution."

Jin, "A solution?"

Namjoon, "To what?"

Sejin, "Your problems. Well, some of them anyway." He was tentative with his words, carefully treading on untouched ground, not fully knowing how the boys were going to take his proposition. "There's this... arrangement I've heard of.."

Yoongi, "Nothing illegal, I hope."

Sejin shook his head. "No. Nothing like that. But, of course, it's still a very hush-hush topic. If fans aren't happy about idols dating, they most definitely won't be happy about this.

"You'll be surprised at the amount of bands who actually do this. It sounds worse than it actually is, and even female bands do it too. What they'll do, is they'll find someone within their company, someone they can trust and are attracted to, and will contract her to be intimate with them."

"So they turn a staff member into a prostitute?" Yoongi's question came out more like a statement, one he was disgusted in.

"No. Because the intimacy some band members have with her isn't sexual in the slightest. Sometimes it's making out on the sofa when they need it, or being cuddled to sleep. They move her into their apartment with them, and basically call on her when they need her... for whatever. Kihyun apparently gets MONSTA X's Affectionate to cook for him. Not because it's a sexist thing, but because, to him, it's such a sweet gesture. It's one extra thing for him to not have to worry about. Plus, apparently, she's amazing in the kitchen.

"I know that right now you guys are void of a good fuck," Sejin continued, "and maybe your lady could start out as being just that for you, when she consents to it. But over time, all you might require from her is a hug, or even a movie night. I know what you guys are like."

"Isn't that a bit weird though?" Namjoon asked. "We'd be sharing one woman?"

Taehyung chimed in. "Are you worried about jealousy?"

"That and the fact that she'd literally be our whore... even if she's not having sex with us. I don't know. If we had a partner each it wouldn't be as weird."

"Well, we can't afford a woman for each of you." Sejin countered. "It's one or nothing."

Jin laughed. "Bullshit you can't afford it. The company turns trillions over each quarter."

"I wasn't talking about financially. We can't afford to essentially lose seven women from the company. Because even though they'd still be working for Big Hit, you're essentially her boss. She'd be at your beckon call. Plus it will also teach you little shits some self-control." Everyone laughed. "You don't have to agree to it right away. Think on it, discuss it and let me know."

Namjoon hesitated, then spoke. "You say other bands have them. Who? I want to know what their relationships are like with their... whatevers."

"I'll email a list to you as soon as I get back to my room." Sejin offered.

Jungkook, "What? Do you managers have a group chat or something where you talk about who the band members are fucking?"

Sejin stood and turned to walk away. "Yes. We do." He joked.

"Sejinnie-hyung has sent me the email of bands." Namjoon announced as the members lounged on the sofas.

"Who's on there?" Yoongi asked.

Namjoon tittered. "Pretty much everyone we know. GOT7, EXO, VIXX, MONSTA X, SHINEE. The list seems endless. I guess we really didn't know just how common this was."

Jungkook, "You guys aren't seriously considering this, are you?"

Hoseok, "If it's going to make sure everyone here stops being so pissy all the time then yeah, I'm all for it."

Namjoon, "Well, there's certainly no harm in asking around is there? We'll do some research, come back with what we find and then make an educated, unanimous decision."

The boys did just that. At first, they couldn't believe that they were even entertaining the idea. It seemed so morally wrong to pluck one of their staff members out of all of them, move her in with them and fuck her until she couldn't walk. Who would they even choose anyway? How would it work? Their apartment was hardly big enough for them, let alone an additional person. Where would she sleep? Would she get her own space? Would they find anyone who would even consider entertaining this idea either?

They were told that some of their friends had these women. So Namjoon asked around. He called some of their colleagues who were experienced with this kind of thing and did the research for the band, returning to them with his findings. And, ultimately, there were more positives than negatives. Jackson, one of Namjoon's closest friends, explained GOT7's relationship with their lady. They call her their girlfriend, because that's essentially what she is. She's polyamorous, and is in love with all of the members, just as they are with her. Jackson admitted that it was odd, at first, given that they were all dating the same woman. But, in a strange way it just made them that bit closer. She's the calming outsider who knows them back to front and inside and out, who stops arguments before they begin and takes their stress away. And, they do the same for her. They love her, as she does them. She even refused to renew the contract because she wanted to stay with them. Of course, JYP made her sign a new one to cover their backs, but that's the only reason why they have a contract in place.

The more they heard about it, the more they warmed to the idea. And so, within a week they'd pulled Sejin to one side and told them they wanted to go ahead with it. Sejin was pleased. "Excellent! So," he pulled out his phone and looked at the boys expectantly, "tell me a few qualities you want her to have, and what you each want out of the relationship."

"A relationship." Namjoon told Sejin. "We want what GOT7 has. We want her to be a good friend of ours -"

Taehyung, "Warm."

Jin, "Kind."

Jimin, "Gentle."

Jungkook, "Sweet."

Hoseok, "Kinky." Everyone stared at Hoseok. "What? You were all thinking about it!"

Yoongi shook his head, but he didn't disagree. "We want someone who thinks of others. Who will do the little things that other people think doesn't matter. Someone open-minded who will let us take care of her as she will of us."

Namjoon, "She also has to be single. We don't want to break up a love that's already there."

Sejin stopped typing and locked his phone, a smile forming on his face. "I know exactly who you want."

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queerchoicesblog · 5 years ago

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Second Chances (OH, Harper x F!MC)

My @choicesjulychallenge (hosted by our lovely British beanie @kinda-iconic) officially starts with an Open Heart fic about one of my fave characters that I hope will get more screen time during book 2 that is to say Dr. Harper Emery. As I mentioned before, even though the Harper x F!MC is a slow-burn and here it's basically just implied, I decided to tag it with the pairing so that you know what to expect. Also, a special thank to @emeryharper for beta reading this & brainstorming with me and @brightpinkpeppercorn: my friend, our convos definitely fueled my imagination for this fic!

In short, after the hearing and the argument with Aurora, Harper reflects on her life choices on Edenbrook’s rooftop out of prying eyes. But after a while, Dr. Valentine finds her and eventually say a few magic words that will encourage Harper to take the decision we were all waiting for: going back to her previous post. I feel it would have been a nice addition to the final chapter: hope you enjoy it! 🙌🏻

Prompt: Regrets

Word Count: 2126

Disclaimer: mentions to racism & misogyny; also this fic was inspired by Shake It Out by Florence + The Machine, in case you haven't noticed already xD

Perma Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @melodyofgraves @bhavf @abunchofbadchoices @silverhawkenzie @begging-for-kamilah @kennaxval @strangerofbraidwood @crazypeanat @desiree-0816

Open Heart Tag: @korrasamixfan @bubblygothzombie @emeryharper

If you like this, please consider a like, comment, and/or reblog.

__________________________

Regrets collect like old friends here to relieve your darkest moments

A gust of wind blew over Harper's face, drying a tear at the corner of her eye. As soon she marched off the hearing room, she made a beeline to the elevator and reached Edenbrook hospital's rooftop. She needed air, she needed space. That's why she didn't head to her office: she needed a place to hide, even just for a moment. And she didn't want anyone to see her like that.

God, what a hell of a morning. Aurora's words still echoed in her head. Ever since I got here, you've used me to feel like you're still practicing. No? Tell me how you don't miss being a surgeon. How much you love paperwork and kissing up to scumbags like Declan Nash!

And then there was Valentine's speech. The fear and the determination waltzing in her dark eyes. She reminded Harper her younger self: she was so headstrong and fierce too, so filled with that idealism that almost brought to best intern Edenbrook had in ages to lose everything. She came impossibly close to her ruin. And yet she stood there, facing the Committee, not flinching even when Mr. Martinez moved closer.

Harper envied that courage, that brave foolishness for a moment. The fire burning in Dr. Valentine's eyes when she asked her to call that hearing. Harper knew that fire too. Once. No, not so long ago yet...the truth was that she missed its warmth.

What was left of herself? Of that young woman who beamed in front of the mirror putting on her brand new scrubs? The scrubs she worked so hard to wear. Harper looked down at her elegant blue dress under the white coat, her heels. She once used to joke with her college friends that working in a hospital was tough but at least you don't have to wear heels all the time like in most jobs. Joke's on me I guess, she thought, grimacing and looking back to the horizon as if to bury that unpleasant realization. What has become of me?

Life happened. Seven years of residency happened. For half of them as soon she was walked into the operating room she was welcomed with "oh it's you today? Oh boy, you'll cut yourself sooner than you cut the patient" or at times even "you sure you didn't get lost, sugar?". Harper brushed the comments off and worked twice as hard to earn the respect she deserved. But she soon discovered that there were other things medical school didn't prepare her for. Rumors that she had her residency only due to her mother's prestigious name in the field or "so that the hospital can say they support diversity: maybe they will put her face on the ads so they can tell they hire Blacks". Patients refusing to be operated by "a brown doctor". Trying to make them reason as politely as you can but being forced to give up when the Head of the department intervenes and assigns the case to a colleague when the patient doesn't flinch. She took his place in the end, becoming the youngest Head of neurosurgery in the history of Massachusetts. It had been a wild triumphal ride since her first day as an intern: she never stopped nor flinched and...eventully it took a toll on her.

Before she could process it, she was at the verge of her career and watched closely by anyone. She was in command finally but life can hardly be under control. With power came responsibilities as well as the most desperate cases. "We're in your hands, Emery". "Dr. Emery we have a red code". And she did everything she could, even more. But sometimes even if you do "whatever it takes", it's still not enough and you have to call the time of death. So, as time went by, she walked out the O. R. emotionally drained, aching both physically and inside, to tell the bad news to a newlywed woman, to parents and sons worried sick for the beloved one they trusted her to save. Their tears and pain tore her apart too. Why couldn't she do best? That was not enough. Once the mother of a young boy, overcome by grief, yelled in her face that she killed her Asim: "Why are you even Head if you let people die? And you're even one of us?! My boy did nothing wrong, he wasn't even driving the car and you....he would have turned 21 in a month and it's your fault if he...you were supposed to save him! That's what doctors do, they don't kill people! What do I do now without my Asim? What do I do now?". Security had to intervene and drag her away but the woman's angry words of inconsolable grief had already cut Harper open.

That night she stopped in front of a liquor store. It took all her remaining strength to pick her phone and select a number with shaking hands as she was standing a couple of steps away from the door. "Naveen, it's Harper. You said I could call you earlier and...if I send you an address can you pick me? I hate to ask you that but...yes, I'll-ll take a seat and wait, I just could use a friend tonight". They talked for hours over the giant ice-cream Naveen bought her. "Ice-cream is better for wounds and tastier" he explained, handing her a spoon "...or so my niece said when she was little. She's no doctor, but she's a Michelin-starred chef now so she must know a thing or two, right?".

One week later Harper threw her hat in the ring for the position of Chief of Medicine.

Needless to say, she started regretting her decision very soon. She wasn't born for being behind a desk, "but sometimes you have to allow yourself to breathe. You know, like a normal person" Naveen commented, shaking her hand on her first day as an administrator.

Nonetheless, she took the new post seriously and did her job at the hearing: she spoke in Valentine's defense as much as she was allowed to, she voted nay. She finally told that scumbag of Declan off for good. But...Aurora was right. And she could hardly feel relieved for the positive outcome of the hearing.

Harper sighed and gazed off into the horizon, lost in her own train of thoughts.

Then, out of the blue, someone cleared their throat a few steps behind her.

"Dr. Emery?"

Harper didn't turn but recognized the voice.

"Valentine?"

Meredith tentatively walked closer to her side.

"I...I wanted to thank you"

"Thank me?" Harper asked, visibly surprised even if she tried to conceal it.

"Yes, for allowing me this hearing. And for speaking in my defense"

Harper winced still caught in her own thoughts.

"I only stated facts. You did a good job that night, you deserved credit for it. No need to thank me"

"You could have said nothing after all the trouble I caused to the hospital. To everyone. To you with the lawsuit and all. Yet you helped me dodge that bullet. So yes, I need to thank you, Dr. Emery"

Harper smiled grimly to herself and nodded to signal that she acknowledged it. She was too tired and emotionally drained to formulate an answer.

Silence settled between them as the two of them looked at Boston's skyline at the horizon. Dr. Emery sighed deeply, inhaling the cool air of the morning. Yes, she needed to breathe. Even if her soul could found no peace at the thought of everything that happened that morning. Teresa would have loved the show though. That last thought would have made her smile, even laugh under other circumstances but now she winced instead.

It was weird though: she was still looking away yet she could feel Valentine's concerned gaze on her, like a hand reassuringly stroking her back. The intern kept quiet and Harper was secretly grateful of the respect the young doctor showed for her need of space and silence. Just the gusts of winds cradling her forlorn thoughts.

Dr. Valentine...what a hurricane she had been at Edenbrook. Harper had noticed her from afar. So headstrong, so dedicated, so empathic. You could tell by the look in her eyes when a patient addressed her: even during the E. R. emergency she took time to calm down both patients and staff so that they could catch a breath and regain confidence. Even Rory. She had this leading skill out of instinct: delegate, motivate and work hard. Harper could have sworn that at that very moment with gurneys crowding the hall filled with bleeding and scared patients, Valentine felt the floor crumbling behind her feet...but she did her best to appear as calm as possible. Even now she was a calming presence, standing quietly at her side. However, the Chief couldn't help but considered that by this time the scenario could have been totally different. If it wasn't for Mr. Martinez and Naveen, Valentine could have been gone. And she couldn't have saved her, just like Asim. God, I'm even useless as Chief, she mentally noted to herself.

A bunch of words slipped out of her, as if Harper was speaking to herself, before she could stop them.

"It was too close, Valentine. Too close"

Since they fell into a pained silence, she added a thought that had kept troubling her since Meredith asked her to call the hearing.

"We could have lost you"

This last sentence came out as barely a whisper.

"I know now" Meredith commented grimly.

The weight of what happened must have sunk in, Harper thought, noticing how little glee and relief were in Valentine's voice.

After a moment the young doctor's phone beeped. Meredith checked it and sighed. She reluctantly let go of the railing and took a step back.

"Thanks for giving me a second chance: I promise you to grow from this. I have learned my lesson, I think"

Harper nodded again. It was still too painful to talk.

She heard the sound of the footsteps of Meredith walking back to the stairs. After the door opened, her voice came to her once more.

"Oh and Dr. Emery, if I may" Meredith started saying but immediately took a pause as if to choose carefully her next words.

"I'm not the only one getting a second chance today. Please consider this when going through what's...troubling you"

A second chance...

Harper turned as the swinging of the metallic door echoed behind her. Dr. Valentine was nowhere to be found.

A second chance, Harper repeated to herself. It sounded like a prayer, the line of a song filled with hope and promises of a better future.

Valentine was...right. She didn't have to be held down by her demons. She could fight back and stood fearless and victorious in front of them. Just like Valentine showed her. A memory suddenly hit her. When her first supervisor asked her if she was sure she had what it took to be a surgeon, a neurosurgeon, her younger self, head high and determination written all over her face, looked at him right in the eye and answered:

"Would I be here otherwise? You may try to taunt me as you wish, Sir, but I'm not going anywhere. I worked hard for this and I'm here to stay. And, in case you haven't noticed yet, I'm born to fight"

Harper smiled to herself reminiscing that episode. That day a doctor nearby accidentally eavesdropped the conversation while filling some papers. He looked up and asked her name. He gave her a pat on the shoulder before disappearing down a corridor nearby. The same day he requested that she assisted him in an operation. That's how she met her mentor. The wise man who taught her how to be the best neurosurgeon she could be and...to save herself first.

What he didn't teach her was to be a quitter.

She was not a quitter.

I'm born to fight, Harper repeated to herself. And I will. I may have lost a battle but the victory, oh the victory is mine.

This is my last day as a Chief.

Harper threw one last look to the Boston skyline and straightened her coat. She knew what to do now. She needed to find Naveen. And Aurora.

And I've been a fool, and I've been blind I could never leave the past behind I can see no way, I can see no way I'm always dragging that horse around Our love is pastured to a mournful sound Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground I like to keep my issues strong It's always darkest before the dawn

#choicesjulychallenge #open heart #harper emery #dr. harper emery #harper emery x mc #playchoices #choices fanfic

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vastly-fixated-devotee-667 · 5 years ago

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come to me

i’ve never actually posted any of my writing on tumblr because i’ve never been into it enough to want to share it but i did this for fun and though it’d be fun to share. it's based off come to me by the goo goo dolls, and was technically written to be ben x my mc, but i made it mc-neutral (aside from the fact that it’s a female slytherin, but) for fun. i hope this is well-received, ahahah

(for clarification, anything in green is in mc’s pov, and anything in red is in ben’s. this is a slight au where it kind of takes place later than actual hphm does, and mc isnt the actual mc from the game.)

i’ll be kind if you’ll be faithful; you be sweet and i’ll be grateful. cover me with kisses, dear; lighten up the atmosphere. keep me warm inside our bed; i got dreams of you all through my head. fortune teller said i’d be free, and that’s the day you came to me.

i laid back in my chair, contemplating my life choices and why i ever thought taking this class was a good idea. divination was a bullshit concept and professor trelawney was a complete phony. at least it was an easy o, as you could basically make up any „prophecy” and trelawney would accept it.

i swirled the tea in my cup, wanting so badly to drink it. but trelawney drained it so she could help me „read the tea leaves” — whatever that means. i assumed it would mean someone was going to die, whether it was me, one of my friends, or just some random person i’d never met. whatever she was in the mood for, i guessed.

„ah, miss [l/n], how fortunate you are,” she said. “the shape — it is a bird. meaning, you will soon find freedom. be on the lookout for any good omen that might free you.”

free me from what? boredom? i guessed the future that was predicted was to be in — i checked my watch — approximately ten minutes. lucky me.

when the aforementioned ten minutes passed, i eagerly threw my books into my bag and left the stuffy, perfume-filled tower. my next class was history of magic, and that was the one class where i was always able to slip into the background and stay unnoticed. a rare instance of happiness for me.

as i stepped off the bottom rung of the ladder and turned around, i immediately ran into someone, dropping my bag and causing its contents to strew across the corridor. the both of us hastily apologized and dropped to the floor to gather my books and quills. he handed me my charms and potions textbooks, and after the commotion, it was the first time i truly looked at him. gryffindor in my year, blond, brown eyes, pale. the one who was known through gossip as the „cowardly gryffindor”. ben copper. an oxymoron personified.

„thanks,” i said. „and sorry, again. i should’ve been watching where i was going.”

„no, i’m sorry; i’m the one who wasn’t paying attention,” he said, his face flushed pink. he scratched the back of his neck. „er, i’m ben, by the way.”

„yeah, i know,” i said. „i’m [m/c], but i’m guessing you already knew that.”

„er... i probably should have known that, considering we’re in the same year. i guess i just try not to interact with slytherins much.”

i snorted. “well, yeah, we’re in the same year, but i meant you probably just recognize me because of my dad.”

he tilted his head. „your dad?”

i raised an eyebrow. „[dad’s name]? retired seeker for the pride of portree?”

he scrunched his eyebrows, then a look of realization washed over his face. „oh, that’s quidditch; isn’t it? i don’t really know anything about quidditch. muggle-born.” he flinched, obviously hesitant to reveal that information as if i were going to berate him for such a fact.

„oh. that makes a lot of sense. but you’ve not even, like, heard of me through gossip? i’m sure your friends know who i am.”

he shrugged coyly. „i don’t really have any friends.”

my eyebrows shot up. „oh. well, uh, i’d be your friend, if you’d like.”

„really? a star quidditch player’s slytherin daughter friends with the cowardly gryffindor mudblood?”

„hey, don’t call yourself that! you seem really wonderful, despite what people say. you don’t appear to be half as fearful as people seem to think. i mean, you’ve been talking to me for this long, so that’s something. besides, it’d be refreshing to be friends with someone who doesn’t want to get acquainted with me because of my dad.”

his face lit up. „then, i’d love to be your friend.”

i gave him what i hoped was a warm smile. „great! see you later, then, new friend.”

i got to history of magic class before i could be accounted for being late. maybe, just maybe, trelawney’s prophecy was right this time around.

the months flew by, and ben and i grew closer and closer each passing week within. he was the first friendship i’d made in my three years at hogwarts that didn’t end in wanting to meet my dad or anything of the like. in fact, it was steering toward ending in a whole new, completely pleasant manner.

as days passed, we seemed to get more comfortable with being not just emotionally closer, but physically closer as well. time was often spent in the tranquility of the library or the solitude of the artifact room, huddled up close to each other, sharing warmth. on numerous occasions, we’d even fall asleep in either room, slipping into nonsensical twists on our pleasant reality. while i had no way of telling the contents of his, my own dreams were filled with notions of the two of us being something more than simple friends. while at the time i never would’ve said it aloud, they weren’t exactly the kind of dreams i’d consider nightmares. far from it, actually. they could’ve even been considered prayers. prayers to the metaphorical god that was my own bravery, asking me to work up the courage to make any sort of move. yet, all i could muster was a few stolen kisses on his cheeks, nose, forehead. nothing serious. nothing that could’ve been mistaken for anything more than an exchange between close friends.

come to me, my sweetest friend. can you feel my heart again? i’ll take you back where you belong, and this’ll be our favorite song. come to me with secrets bare. i love you more, so don’t be scared. and when we’re old and near the end, we’ll go home and start again.

„lumos.” the tip of my wand lit up the face of the watch on my wrist. „nox.” 11:37. no hope in falling asleep any time soon.

i sat up and tore off a piece of parchment from the scroll nearest me. „lumos.” by the dim wandlight, i found my pen and wrote the one word „awake” in the center of the parchment, followed by a question mark. at the bottom right, i wrote a dash and a capital „[first initial]”. i strapped the note to the leg of my dad’s old owl, millie, and gave her directions to send it to ben. she complied and flew out of my dormitory.

no longer than five minutes later, she returned with another piece of parchment on her leg — a different one from the one i gave her. i unstrapped it from her and read it.

i never sleep; don’t you know? —b

i chuckled and shook my head. i tore off a new piece of parchment and scribbled down another note.

come to me. —[first initial]

millie obediently delivered the note again and returned shortly with another.

to your common room? you know i can’t get in. and i’d rather not try. not with felix rosier on duty. —b

i rolled my eyes and composed another note.

i’ll wait for you outside to let you in. please? i’m a lonely insomniac. —[first initial]

millie delivered and returned one last time.

fine. heading down now. —b

„nox.” my wandlight went out and i crept into my common room and quietly pushed open the door. hardly a minute later, ben arrived, moving swiftly so as to avoid getting caught. i impulsively hugged him to thank him for coming. we sat on the couch in the lounge, snuggled up close to each other. it was a comfortable silence, but i still felt glad when he broke it.

„why can’t you sleep?” he asked.

i shrugged. „got a lot on my mind, i guess. hard to shut my mind down when there’s so much running through it.”

„like what?”

„i dunno. things. unimportant things that still manage to worm their way into my brain. what about you? what fuels your insomnia?”

„fear, mostly. when you’re afraid of everything, it’s hard to not think of something that scares you.”

„i never really wondered until now, but why are you afraid of everything? i mean, sorry if that sounds rude, but— yeah. you know what i mean.”

„it’s mostly the entire aspect of magic. my whole life, i grew up pretty sheltered and all, but when i heard magic exists, it basically... turned my life upside down. i was already a generally anxious kid, but then this whole new, dangerous concept was introduced to me as real even though i went my whole life believing it was a fictional thing...” he cleared his throat. „sorry. i know it’s stupid.”

„no, no, it’s not stupid. i know what it’s like to be afraid.” i hesitated. „the reason my dad doesn’t play quidditch anymore is — well, for one, he’s too old, but — because he had a really bad injury during his last game. he got hit by a bludger and knocked to the ground from fifty meters in the air. he was in st. mungo’s for a few days. but it was just the amount of pain he was in... it made me extremely cautious. i avoided any situation that could potentially end in any sort of physical pain. it was bad. i’m still sort of that way, but i always felt like a coward for being so fearful. i never really realized cowardice wasn’t define by a person’s fears... but i know that now. and it might do you some good to be aware of it, too.”

it was dark and hard to see, but i could hear the smile on his lips as he spoke. „thanks, [m/c].”

i burrowed my head into his chest. „no problem, ben.”

an hour passed, and my eyelids threatened to fall like boulders on the edge of a cliff, but i willed myself to stay awake. if i fell asleep, that would almost guarantee ben getting caught being in another house’s common room.

as the time neared 2:00 ᴀ.ᴍ., i shook ben to make sure he wasn’t asleep. „hey. you probably should get back to your own common room.”

he rubbed his eyes. „what time is it?”

„1:57.”

we reluctantly stood and i walked him to the door. after saying goodnight, we wound up in a hug that lasted nearly two minutes before we came to our senses.

„ben?” i stopped him before he walked out of sight.

he turned back to me. „yeah?”

i took a shaky breath. „i love you.”

there was a pause, and my heart pounded loudly into the silence.

„i love you, too,” he said finally, and i’d never heard any sweeter poetry.

i caught you burning photographs, like that could save you from your past. history is like gravity: it holds you down away from me. you and me, we’ve both got sins; i don’t care about where you’ve been. don’t be sad and don’t explain; this is where we start again.

i tore out of the potions classroom as soon as professor snape dismissed the class. i couldn’t believe how klutzy i was, spilling my entire potion and all right onto snape’s robes. i was to have detention for two weeks, and i’d never hear the end of it from my dorm mates.

i sought out the artifact room for an escape, only to find it already in use. the crumpled figure of [m/c] sat on the floor, surrounded by photographs, some scorched around the edges. she picked up another with a shaky hand, oblivious to my presence. „incendio.” the photograph caught fire and she watched it be swallowed by the flames, flames that combated the streaks of watery tears that ran down her cheeks.

„[m/c]?” i said, causing her to jump. „what’s going on?”

she quickly wiped her cheeks on her sleeve and kicked the photographs behind her. „nothing; it’s— it’s nothing. just some old photographs i wanted to get rid of.”

i knelt down and picked up a photograph, myself. it pictured what seemed to be a young trista and an older boy who looked quite similar to her. „who is this?”

she swallowed, realizing there was probably no way out of this. „my brother.”

i sifted through the other images. they all showed the same two faces throughout the years. she never even told me she had a brother. „why are you burning pictures of you and your brother?”

„because.”

i looked her in the eye, attempting to show how dead serious i was. she’d always do this for me when something was bothering me, so it was about time i returned the favor. „because why?”

„i just... don’t want to look at them anymore.”

„why?”

„because it... it hurts to be reminded of him in such a way.”

„why?”

the tears she was holding back began to fall. „because he’s dead, ben. this was what it was like back when we were kids, and... i just don’t want to think about that. not knowing that we’ll never be able to relive the memories.”

„and you really think this is the best way to cope? you’re going to regret doing this in the future. besides, your brother would want you to remember him like this; wouldn’t he? i’m so sorry for your loss, [m/c], but, please, be rational.”

she let out a soft sob and dropped the photograph in her hand. she hid her face in her hands and i put an arm around her shoulders. it was a little bit before she spoke again. „i just wanted to be like him. but i’ve already blown it. i’ve made friends with people i shouldn’t have, and that led to saying and doing things i shouldn’t have, and—”

„[m/c],” i stopped her. „anything you’ve done in the past is irrelevant now. i’ve known you for a while now, and you’re one of — no, the nicest person i’ve met at this school. and that’s what matters right now.”

she looked me in the eye for the first time since i found her in there and whispered a small „thanks.” her eyes fell back onto the photographs that laid on the floor.

i took a breath, hoping talking about her brother might make here feel better. „what was his name?”

„jacob.”

i nodded and paused, thinking of the best way to continue. „what did he do? for a job? or was he still in school?”

„he was an auror. that’s... that’s how he died. this summer. he was dueling a powerful dark wizard when he... struck a nerve, i guess. wizard fired the killing curse, and... that was that.”

„i’m sorry.”

she shrugged with a small shake of her head. „i want to be an auror like him, though. he helped put a lot of bad people away. i want to do that, too.”

i smiled in what i wanted to come off as a supportive way. „i’m sure you will. you’ll make your brother proud.”

a smile washed across her forlorn face. „thanks.”

„[m/c]?” i said. „could you come here?”

„what’s up?” she stood.

„just, uh... just come with me.”

i led her out of the great hall where she was eating lunch and to the artifact room. i pointed out the big, black spider that rested on the chalkboard.

she looked at me, amused. „that’s what you needed me for?”

i flushed. „you don’t have any problem getting rid of them, and, well...”

she rolled her eyes. „is that why i’m your girlfriend? because i can get rid of spiders for you?”

i rubbed the back of my neck. „it’s one of the many benefits.”

she chuckled and planted a kiss on my cheek. then, she turned to the spider. „all right, you; it’s time to stop tormenting ben. wingardium leviosa.” the spider hovered to the will of her wand and she led it out to the courtyard, dropping it onto the grass. „there. you’re free to relax in your hopefully-spider-free-for-now hideout.”

„thanks.” i grinned shyly. how did i get so lucky to earn her love? „i love you.”

„i love you, too.”

today’s the day i make you mine, so get me to the church on time. take my hand in this empty room. you’re my girl and i’m your groom. come to me, my sweetest friend; this is where we start again.

i gazed at myself in the mirror, adjusting my tie for the umpteenth time. i was determined to make sure everything was perfect for such a perfect day. it was hard to believe i was actually to be marrying the one i had loved since my third year.

a knock on the door drew me out of my trance. „ben? can i come in?” it was [m/c].

i walked to the door and laid my hand on the handle, but i hesitated. „isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

i heard her laugh. „muggles have such ridiculous superstitions. come on; just let me in.”

i drew in a breath and opened the door. the breath i took was knocked out of me when i saw how she was dressed. a flower crown composed of our collective favorite flowers rested on her head. her pastel green dress fell to her knees and she wore her usual black ankle boots. she insisted on not having too fancy nor traditional of a wedding, and i was set on doing whatever made her happy.

„what’s up?” i said.

her face fell as she remembered the reason she had come. „i miss him. i wish he were here.”

i tilted my head, wondering who she meant. then, i realized. her brother. „oh. i’m sorry.”

she stayed silent a moment, her eyes on the floor. „he was engaged before his death. the wedding never happened. and now... he’s not here for mine.” her eyes finally met mine. „this is all everything i’d imagined it to be, except for that one aspect.”

„i’m sorry, [m/c]; i really wish i could—”

she took me by surprise when she flung her arms around me. „don’t apologize. i’m thanking you.”

„thanking me?”

„my brother was never going to be able to attend. that was inevitable. i realize that. but everything else... everything else is just as i wanted. and i owe that all to you.”

i smiled modestly. „well, we had some help from penny...”

„but it’s you who’ll be standing opposite me at the alter. and that’s all i could ask for.” she released me from her grasp and took my hand. „now, what do you say we get out there and seal the deal?”

the music that played was a perfect mix of wizard and muggle music, shaped to fit ben’s and my taste. we danced amongst the other partners to come to me by the muggle band the goo goo dolls. as the rest of the world fell away and it was just him and me on the dance floor, it easily became my favorite song — our favorite song. another chapter in our history had come to a close that day, but the whole of our book wouldn’t end for a long time.

#hogwarts mystery #harry potter #ben copper #ben copper x reader #ben copper x mc #ben copper x jacob’s sibling #jacob’s sibling #hphm mc #hphm

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bangchanshehe · 6 years ago

Text

Handsome Disaster pt. 15

When the school bad boy and womanizer Hoseok turns his attention on you it’s hard to ignore. Especially with your best friends being in a relationship and living five doors down from each other.

word count: 3.5k

It had been a solid week of hell since you had broken up with Hoseok and life felt like it couldn’t get much worse. The school had granted you medical absences since the incident to stay at home and rest and you were thankful for their understanding and help, but only for all of the wrong reasons. This whole week you managed to dodge Hosoek at every opportunity that he tried to make his presence known. And god damn it, it was fucking hard.

He tried beating down your door, calling you and texting you all the time and even harassing SeRa to get into contact with you on his behalf. You knew that it was hurting him to separate from you and it was killing him inside, but it was even harder for you. Serval times you wanted to knock on his door or even open up the windows to see him outside but the constant news coverage of the innocent murdered family kept you at home. Trapped inside with your shame, guilt and pain.

Life couldn’t just go back to normal after such a huge change and emotionally draining trauma. Hell, just wiping your ass was hard enough with healing ribs. you couldn’t even imagine actually living life the same anymore. And although you were a little sickened by the thought of it but the who incident taught you to be thankful for what you had and you learned that you couldn’t trust anyone.

At the end of the day it was only you who suffered in your pain. So it was justified that you were alone to deal with it.

The knocking at the door pulled you out of your trance and you looked to see SeRa standing in your door frame with the door just cracked open enough for her to see you. she smiled sympathetically to you when she realized the she had gotten your attention

“hey” she whispered “what are you doing?”

You cracked a small smile at her and shook your head

She pushed her way into your room from the small crack and made her way next to your bed and sat down next to you so she could talk with you. “Are you nervous about going back tomorrow?” she asked gauging your reaction.

You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. Shit. You thought to yourself. You had almost completely forgotten that you had to go back to school. You didn’t know how to answer her question because you didn’t know how you felt about it. Were you ready? Could you handle the stares? Or possibly running into someone that you didn’t want to see?

You rolled your head to the side and looked at her with pursed lips. “I guess so. I just know that things are going to be awkward and weird for a while” you answered softly.

She just hummed in agreement ad dropped her gaze apologetically. She knew more than anyone else In this world that you would take the next few days in stride but knew that they would deeply terrify and hurt you.

“and what about Hoseok?” she asked softly still refusing to see you eye to eye.

You sighed again and she raised her head to gauge your reaction. You shook your head softly and remained silent. You hadn’t told her yet that you had dropped the class that you had with him, because she was too soft hearted and would tell Hosoek. And you loved her for her honesty but right now honesty wasn’t what was for the best.

“look… I know that you don’t really want to entice Hoseok right now or get his hopes up for anything.” She started and when you met her gaze her confidence fell a little. You could see it in her eyes “and I know that you probably don’t want to hear this right now, but he’s been acting really out of character and rough ever since he last saw you at the hospital.” She let her gaze wonder over to your phone “maybe you should consider talking to him just for a little to calm him down some.” She offered

You took a moment to let her words sink in and your heart fell a little hearing that Hoseok was going through a rough time, but it wasn’t a good time for you to contact him.

“maybe later” you said quietly, and politely turning down her offer

She nodded her head In understanding “im gonna go take a shower and go to bed, goodnight.” She said slowly getting up and walking away

You didn’t say anything back to her and instead let your minds wonder over Hoseok. What did she mean by he was acting out of character or rough? Hoseok was already pretty rough in other people’s eyes. So what constituted as rough?

You laid down on your bed as you were fully clothed and shut your eyes willing for your thoughts to silence and melt away, hoping that sleep would make things a little more bearable for the time being.

The next morning you rolled out of bed at the sound of your alarm going off and slowly sauntered to your bathroom. You washed your face and brushed your teeth but did nothing else. You didn’t care how you looked or how other people saw you. they were already going to be talking about what happened and staring at you so why give a single damn about how they saw you? you made a cup of coffee and slid on flip flops before making your way across campus to your first class.

It was distracting seeing how many people were looking at you. Or were they? You couldn’t really tell and that’s what drove you even more insane. You didn’t know if people’s stares were genuine or if you saw them looking by chance. But the small voice in the back of your head was sure that they were all judging you. so you quickly walked with your head hung low from class to class hoping that the fascination and paranoia would die down.

But sadly all you could do was scan the crowds for Shownu and Hoseok hoping that you wouldn’t by chance see or run into either of them. It was stupid to have the paranoia that you would run into Shownu but you still had the creeping feeling that he was somewhere watching you as you moved around.

Should you try to transfer schools? Or maybe move to another apartment once the lease is up?

You were happy and enjoyed going to school and being where you were, but with the overwhelming anxiety that someone was constantly looking at you over your shoulder you couldn’t get comfortable like you were once before. And things could never go back to how they once were.

You got to your final class and you picked a desk in the back of the lecture hall. Half of the year was already over and being a transfer student into a new lecture made seating slim pickings. You unpacked your spiral and made yourself comfortable in your desk and tried to keep yourself from making too much noise or sticking out. The professor entered with a steaming cup of tea and a content look on his face while he mindlessly greeted the class and began to start the lecture.

You took notes and tried your hardest to focus on what was being said but even as you wrote down note for note on the board and stared at the pictures in the text book your mind was still wondering to everything but the lecture. You let out a soft sigh and put your head down over your arms at your desk. There was no use of trying to learn anything right now. You were about to doze off into sleep when the sounds of the lecture doors being loudly pulled on made you peek up from your arms in shock and anxiety. Whoever was pulling on the doors continued to pull as hard as they could as if they were trying to get in to save their life.

The professor paused the lecture, looked at the students in shock and worry and then slowly walked to the doors to open one for the person standing outside. The door flew open and Hoseok pushed his way inside past the professor making everyone gasp in surprise. You were angry and startled to see him there in front of you so livid and anxious that he would push the professor out of his way like that.

How did he even find you? You didn’t tell sera which class you had transferred to so she couldn’t tell him, which means he had to have followed you here.

Your face hardened as you looked at him as he scanned the crowed to find you. As soon as he did find you his face softened a little but his eyes seemed sadder than they were before. He ran up the stairs taking two at a time so he could get to you quicker, and you began to pack your bag in a hurry so you could take the back exit and avoid Hoseok. But he was quicker.

He slammed his hand down on top of your back pack as you were about to rise out of your chair and you yelped in surprise. You turned your head to see him and slowly sat back down keeping your eyes on him the whole time.

“Excuse me sir! This a lecture hall and most certainly not the place for you to be doing this! Get out of my class room!” the professor yelled through clenched teeth

But Hoseok paid him no mind and stood over you while his eyes scanned your body. You felt exhausted and tore your eyes away from him and looked away trying not to make a scene in front of everyone who you just met today.

“Hoseok…. Can you please not do this?” You begged him with a tiny whisper hoping that only he heard it

“All you had to do was send one message, make one call, or step outside to tell me to fuck off so I could know that you were okay and you were alive.” Hoseok’s voice began to quiver and he squatted down in front of you. “Are you okay?” he asked trying to reach out to cup your face in his palm.

You avoided his palm by swatting it away and let out a sigh “that’s none of your business Hoseok”

Hoseok swallowed and looked away at your response “I know that, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t still care about you. “

Your head raised to look him in the eyes and your heart broke when you witnessed a tear roll down the side of his face. Your heart was yelling at you to reach out and run your hand through his hair or for you wipe his tear away, but you knew it wouldn’t be right.

Hoseok looked up and saw how soft your eyes had become and saw the hope in them. He moved a little closer to you and rose up to your desk “Please! Why are we still doing this? I love you so much and would do everything for you. I know you still love me too so why are you separating us?” he asked with a broken voice

You huffed out air as your heart strings were being tugged on. The answer that he wanted wasn’t going to come out of your mouth. And certainly not in the middle of your lecture hall. If you and Hoseok were going to ever have this conversation it would be somewhere were the two of you could actually talk.

You raised your head to see your professor impatiently waiting with his hands on his hips and a foot out forward and you bowed your head to him as you said “I’m sorry, but I have to leave”

You avoided Hoseok as he climbed up beside you and followed you out the doors like a puppy. He held onto you and paid no mind as to what direction you were walking in. He wrapped his arm around you and tried to kiss you and you quickly wrenched away from him

“What the fuck are you doing?” you yelled at him.

Hoseok stood with him mouth open like a fish as he tried to search for any answer that seemed to fit “I thought that we….”

“No Hoseok, no! I’m alive okay! I want to be left alone and certainly don’t want you disturbing my life as I try to move on from what happened.” You yelled back

Hoseok’s face scrunched up and he quietly whispered “I didn’t mean to disturb you”

“Well you have! It was my first fucking day back and all I wanted was to be treated like normal and be able to pick up where things left off. But you had to barge into my lecture and embarrass me in front of the whole god damn class.”

“I didn’t mean to im so-“ Hoseok apologized

“Just fuck off Hoseok!” you yelled over him and walked away.

When you finally got home you crashed in bed and allowed for your tears to fall. Why had you been so mean to Hoseok and why did it bother you so much that he cared for you? it was childish for you to yell at him the way that you did, but you knew that if you allowed for him to touch you that you would give into him and things would be exactly the way that they once were. And right now you still weren’t mentally ready to be in a relationship with anyone.

You allowed yourself to cry over it any lots of other things. And you just cried and cried until you had nothing else left to cry about. You needed to have a moment to allow yourself to let everything off of your chest. It wasn’t until SeRa got home that you had realized what time it was and how long you had actually been crying. Like clockwork she came home at 5 pm and made the two of you dinner and as soon as she was done she came quietly knocking on your door.

“Are you hungry?” she asked from the other side.

You didn’t answer her but instead got out of bed and walked to open up the door. You nodded your head to her and she smiled and turned around to go back to the kitchen to make a plate for you.

You took a seat on the couch and the two of you ate there like you always did, watching some cheesy or horrible reality show as you ate your dinner together.

“So how was school?” she asked you

“Do you really not know anything?” you asked her

She sighed “I do, but I want for you to be the one to tell me about what happened”

You took another bite of your food before you put your fork down and told her about everything that had happened. How you felt embarrassed, but it broke your heart to see him and you wanted to hold him but had the voice in your head telling you it was wrong. Everything.

“It seems like despite everything you still really love him.” she pointed out

You nodded your head but didn’t actually look her in the eyes. For some reason it felt so secretive to actually admit out loud and you had no idea why. “But I was such a bitch to him today there’s no way he would actually forgive me for what I did”

“If I know anything about Hoseok it’s that he’s completely in love with you.” SeRa said making sure that you heard her every word loud and clear. “I think ruling out that he doesn’t have the same feelings after today would be a mistake.” She let you think on it for a moment before she continued “Look if you really feel bad about it then why don’t you come out tonight? Hoseok has a match and I’m sure he would love to see you there cheering him on”

“I’m not ready yet to go back there” you confessed “maybe next time I’ll be a little bit better”

Sera nodded her head and patted you on the leg, “okay, then do you want me to tell Hoseok that you want to talk to him?” she asked with raised brows and a smile, hoping that you would say yes.

“no, no ill tell him myself” you said, your heart pounding in your chest just thinking about what you would say to him once you actually got face to face with him again. At the most you did need to apologize to him

“okay well then I’m gonna go get dressed and head out so that way I can see Minhyukie before I go.” Sera said hopping off of the couch and skipping off to her room.

You focused back on your half eaten food and the tv playing some cheesy drama Sera loves to watch. You picked at your plate as you mindlessly thought through what sera had told you. You did still love him very much and it hurt you to see him so put down by what you said to him. But a large part of you did still really feel like going back to your relationship was not a good idea. It was just too soon and so much chaos made little things even more complicated and you didn’t want to deal with it. You had already received so much attention for being in a relationship with Hoseok and having to fight off all of the girls who had slept with him or either wanted to. And with the negative attention from shownu and then eventually the chaos that came with him, attention was the last thing that you wanted.

“Ill see you later! Don’t forget to lock up tonight!” Sera said almost running out of the door to see Minhyuk

You half laughed at her and watched as she crossed the street and got up to close the door. You had an itch to follow her just down the small path that led to the boys’ house but you talked yourself down from doing it. So you turned around, locked the door and sighed when you finally addressed the new silence in the apartment.

You cleaned the kitchen, did a load of laundry, caught up on late homework and did your best to distract yourself from thoughts that would get you down. There was a small voice in your head that worried if Hoseok was okay after his match. Surely he hadn’t been hit or hurt, but you still wanted the peace of mind of knowing that everything was okay.

You were about to turn off the lights when you heard a knock at the front door. Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately ran to check the peep hole. You saw sera and Minhyuk on the other side and stepped back from the door confused as to why they were back here. You slowly opened the door and stepped out of the way to let them in.

“hey y/n” Minhyuk said with a small smile and waving his hand “I’m gonna go” he said pointing towards Sera’s room, facing her as if he was trying to escape the room.

You turned to face her and you raised an eyebrow “why are you guys here?” you asked her

She dropped her head and bit her lip as if she was trying to find the right words to say. “I don’t think that you should rush into things right now with Hoseok. Give yourself some time to really think about how you feel and then maybe try again with him” she suggested but it didn’t sound quite right

“why? What? What do you mean? You just told me to go to the fight and now you think I should wait?” you asked her searching for her eyes, but she dodged your gaze every chance she got. It took you a moment to digest that something might have actually happened and then you finally asked her “did something happen?”

Sera looked up for a split second before she lowered her gaze again. “Hoseok….” She paused and shut her eyes “He went home with someone tonight”

It took you a split second for you to mentally register what she had said and then your jaw dropped. A tear rushed to your eyes and you turned your head to hide them. “he took someone home?” you asked wanting an answer that you knew wasn’t the truth

“im sorry” sera said as she reached for you to comfort you “but I think Hoseok might be back to his old ways”

NEXT PART

#kpop #kpop series #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #monsta x #monsta x series #monsta x smut #monsta x angst #monsta x fanfiction #wonho #shin hoseok #wonho fanfiction #wonho smut #wonho series #wonho angst #angst #fanfiction

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obsidianarchives · 6 years ago

Text

To All The Wizards I've Considered Before: The List

Sharp pain filled Hermione’s throat. Both of her hands gripped the side of the sink, as she shook from the force of her own emotions. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat down, back to its rightful place. The tears streamed down her face, landing with a loud splatter in the sink. Why was he doing this?

Bloodshot, brown eyes looked back at her from the mirror, peeking beneath the mass of dark brown curls on her head. She looked as utterly ridiculous as she felt. She wiped her sleeve roughly across her face, taking slow shuddering breaths like her mother had taught her.

Calm and steady, she thought.

People had teased her for being a “know-it-all” and a “goody-two-shoes” her whole life. Yet, in the first week of Ron and Lavender’s newfound relationship, he had managed to consistently reduce her to tears either by being outright mean to Hermione or plainly ignoring her. This teasing from him shouldn’t be any different than her past school bullies. And yet, it was.

Calm and steady. A boy is not worth crying over.

She repeated this mantra with each breath she took. It was no use. The vision of Ron’s cruel smile swam in her mind.

—

Professor McGonagall had just finished instructing them on the principles of transforming human appearance. She was working diligently to nonverbally lighten her own eyebrows in the mirrors that were conjured before them. She had just given Harry a reproachful look after hearing him muttering the incantation under his breath when she heard a shocked exclamation. The class laughed as everyone observed Ron’s newly acquired handlebar mustache.

I guess he's gotten that attention he apparently wants so badly, Hermione had thought to herself as she laughed with the rest of her peers.

Professor McGonagall, lips pursed in disapproval, removed the mustache with a quick flick of her wand. Ron had turned to glare at her, as if she had been the one to conjure the mustache for him. Hermione had glared right back at him.

It was later in the lesson when everyone had mostly forgotten about Ron’s hefty handlebar mustache that he started in on her once again.

“Now, why is it inadvisable for a witch or wizard to transfigure themselves into an inanimate object?” Professor McGonagall asked the class. The class turned to Hermione expectantly, prepared for her to raise her hand and answer.

“Oh Professor, Professor! Please pick me! Oh please, Professor. However will anyone notice me if I don’t answer this question?” Ron’s mocking high-pitched voice had cut right through her from across the room. He bounced in his seat in a way that, although exaggerated, was not unlike Hermione when she was particularly excited by a subject.

Hermione’s face had grown hot. Lavender and Parvati were cackling while Ron beamed, soaking in the attention. Professor McGonagall’s mouth formed a tight thin line that usually meant trouble. Hermione tore her gaze away and glared down at her notes. Her vision was already blurring. The buzzing in her mind drowned out Professor McGonagall’s response.

“She’s a nightmare, honestly. It’s no wonder no one likes her.”

The memory of those words washed over her like acid on her tongue. After all this time, that’s what they had come back to? Growing up, her Muggle classmates had teased her relentlessly. At Hogwarts, Snape and other Slytherins were arguably just as cruel. Yet, somehow, it was only Ron who could always manage to make her cry. And it was at that last thought that the bell rang. She dashed out of the room, leaving her belongings behind, not sparing Ron another glance.

—

“That’s enough now.”

Her voice reverberated against the wet stone of the empty bathroom. She was at Hogwarts for one reason and one reason only – to get an education. Feeling more centered, she turned the tap to cold. She let the cool water wash over her fingers for a moment before splashing some on her face.

“You know, if you apply the sap of the Gurdyroot plant to your eyes it will decrease swelling and help to ward off Gulping Plimpies,” a dreamy voice said.

Hermione started. “Oh! Hello Luna. How are you?” she said, purposefully not acknowledging whatever nonsense Luna was trying to convey.

“I’m alright.” Her eyes had a faraway look about them as she stared at Hermione with her serene smile. “Why were you crying?”

Luna generally aggravated Hermione with her outlandish poorly researched claims but right now, as she stood there with her golden hair piled on top of her head and mismatched socks, Hermione felt heartened by her presence.

“Ron was teasing me in class today,” she said turning back to her reflection.

“That was very mean of him.”

Hermione’s eyes met Luna’s through the mirror. Although she was odd, she always had a way with words. The frank response quickened the resolve within her even more. “Yes it was, Luna. Yes it was.”

Hermione squared her shoulders. That was enough, indeed. There was a war coming and more importantly, exams. Yet here she was with her eyes bloodshot and still watery over a boy. She would get over Ron, by any means necessary. She knew what she needed to do.

—

The girl’s dormitory was thankfully empty during her free period. Crookshanks looked up lazily from his spot on the windowsill next to her four poster bed. Her book bag gave a very pronounced thunk when she dropped it on the floor. Crookshanks hopped down rubbing himself against her legs.

“Not now, Crookshanks. I’ve got work to do.”

Affronted, Crookshanks stuck his nose in the air and sauntered back to his spot on the windowsill.

Hermione opened the drawer of her bedside table where she kept all of the stationary she generally reserved for letter writing to Viktor and her mother. She pulled out several sheets of parchment with a light floral design printed on it. Now settled on her bed, using her planner as a writing surface, she tapped her quill on her chin.

A crazy idea had taken hold of her as she left Harry – who had waited for her with her things outside – and Luna behind in front of the girl’s restroom. Her feelings for Ron were inadvisable, that much was clear. Ron had never been very considerate, or kind, or thoughtful. Yet her heart still fluttered anytime he leaned over to her, trying to get a peek of her notes. His scent was always so warm, like fresh cotton and pine needles. (She would push him away every time, of course. It wasn’t up to her to pass his N.E.W.T.s for him.)

Being that her feelings were obstinately persisting, she would need to redirect her attention until they went away. This problem was nothing more than a puzzle. And the thing about puzzles is, they can be solved.

Her crazy idea was this: she would come up with a list of boys most objectively compatible with her. Through process of elimination, she would find the boy that was more appropriate for her romantic inclination. In focusing on these facts, her misguided feelings for Ron should dissipate. Lists had never failed her before.

There were many variables to consider: perception, compatibility, and schedule. The list of candidates she managed to come up with from that criteria was comically short. That was sort of the point, though. She needed a logical counterpoint to her feelings for Ron without risking actual romantic entanglement. Dipping a quill into a bottle of jet-black ink, she began writing:

Boys Best Suited for Hermione Granger –

Ronald Weasley

Harry Potter

Ernie Macmillan

Oliver Wood

Dean Thomas

She eyed the coversheet to her new project. A chuckle escaped her, causing Crookshanks to raise his head, eying her warily. Was this too much? Other girls her age didn’t deal with school crushes in such a clinical manner. Girls didn’t deal with a lot of things in the way that she did, she reminded herself.

With the list decided, it was time for the difficult part. She wrote Ronald Weasley on a fresh sheet of parchment. What was it that she liked about Ron? There was the way his brows furrowed as he concentrated during a game of Wizard’s Chess, his ginger hair falling into his eyes. She thought of the way he’d smirk and roll his eyes at her in an endearing way when she would excitedly explain a new fact she’d learned while reading. And then there were his blue eyes that would brighten just so when discussing Quidditch.

Honesty was the only way this was going to work, so she wrote those thoughts down exactly. As for what she disliked about him. There wasn’t much to say.

I can’t seem to stop the feelings I have for you, she wrote. Which is not ideal considering how we stand right now.

There. The ending was honest and to the point. That was Ron’s done and it hadn’t been as hard as she had expected. Rather than finding it emotionally draining to detail the feelings she’d been grappling with for so long, she found it to be rather freeing.

So with that, she moved on to a new sheet of parchment for Harry. His was easy. One line graced his sheet:

While it’s true that we’re compatible on paper – absolutely not. You’re the brother I never had.

Next was Ernie. He was smart and driven for a Hufflepuff. He really valued his studies nearly as much as she did. But he was insufferable. All of which, she wrote exactly on his sheet.

She moved on to Oliver Wood. He no longer attended Hogwarts, however she had always admired him. While it was true she didn't know much about Quidditch, his determination and drive caught her fancy her first two years at Hogwarts. And though she was embarrassed to admit it, she couldn’t deny her appreciation for the male athletic form. He was now playing for Puddlemere United. Something about the memory of his fierce gaze as he studied his play book and his polite greetings in the corridors inclined her to keep his name on the list and finish his sheet.

Giggling as she eyed the last name on her list, she set the final sheet of parchment in front of her. On the surface it was quite silly, but when she thought of it, he was a strong candidate. While Ginny had only broken up with Dean a week ago, in her esteem, this made him an even safer choice for her battle of wills. They had been classmates for six years sure, but his most significant role in her life was that of “Ginny’s boyfriend.” However, you’d have to live in the dungeons to not hear the chatter amongst girls across various houses and grades that surrounded Dean Thomas. He had grown to be quite attractive the past few years. Some girls even argued he was more attractive than Harry Potter.

Hermione coaxed Crookshanks off his windowsill in order to give him a good pet. She thought more about her evaluation of Dean. He was handsome, but it was more than that. They were both Muggle-borns. He was artistic and quite intelligent; the only classes they didn’t share were Muggle Studies and History of Magic. Even she had to admit that was quite a full load compared to most of their peers.

Once she finished Dean’s sheet she laid them out in front of her in order.

“Well what do you think, Crookshanks?”

He appeared to look them over contemplatively from his new spot on her lap.

“It’s just a mental exercise to help me refocus,” she explained as she scratched him behind the ears in the spot she knew he liked.

He mewed in understanding, pushing his head into the scratches. She sighed, feeling a little lighter already from the exercise.

Noise rose from below in the common room. People must be coming up for the evening to put away their school things. Lavender and Parvati would be up soon. She gathered the pages and slipped them into her bag amongst her other essays and projects. Though there were a couple of candidates she was certain were already ruled out, she would take notes for the next couple of weeks to whittle the list down further. It was a simple enough plan.

After she changed into more comfortable clothes, she headed out the girls dormitory with Crookshanks at her heels. She glanced back at the bag one last time. The plan would work, she assured herself. She would out logic her heart into finding her old self.

—

Over the weekend, the autumn chill had given way to winter mist. As Hermione walked through the breezy corridors down to the Great Hall for breakfast, she pulled her cloak and scarf closer to her. She made a mental note to give Harry the scarf she had knitted him over the summer. She knew his uncle and aunt wouldn’t have bought him any new winter wear over the break.

When she reached the Gryffindor table for breakfast, the smell of sizzling bacon and fresh orange juice filled her nose. She was pleased to see Harry alone. He had spent the weekend drilling the Quidditch team in new formations to accommodate Dean, who was acting as their new temporary Chaser to replace Katie who was still being treated in St. Mungo's.

As she approached however, her skin prickled with irritation. “Must you read that thing at the breakfast table? Is there not some other homework assignment that could use your attention?”

“Good morning to you, too,” Harry said absently, not pulling his nose from The Prince’s book. “Don’t bother. There’s nothing new, just a few suspicious Muggle disappearances,” he said as she sat and moved to pick up the morning’s Daily Prophet.

“Honestly,” she grumbled as she took her seat in front of him.

Between The Prince and Malfoy, Harry had been far too distracted to offer much support with her current predicament with Ron. It was probably for the best that she quickly ruled him out for further consideration, she noted humorously, he was too emotionally unavailable. In fact, she rather thought he was avoiding the subject. Of course, he must suspect her feelings.

It was just as well with her. Even if he had been emotionally available, she didn’t think she would want to talk about it. In an attempt to tear his attention away from that blasted book, she brought up the only other subject that interested him these days.

“How was practice with Dean and Ginny this weekend? I know it was the first since they broke up,” she said nonchalantly. She spooned some fluffy scrambled eggs onto her plate, not making eye contact. His head shot up from the book.

In an attempt to play his reaction off, he reached for his goblet, resulting in him sloshing some orange juice onto his robes ever so smoothly. “Erm, they both flew really well. You wouldn’t know anything was the matter, really. Ginny was joking with the team and making fun of Ron as per usual.”

After contemplating this a moment, Hermione said, “I’d say Dean is putting on a brave face for the team. He’s already been down to breakfast in hopes of avoiding Ginny at the moment, see?” She indicated to Seamus who was eating by himself.

Harry’s eyes trailed from Seamus to behind her at the Ravenclaw table. Ginny had taken to sitting with Luna for meals since breaking it off with Dean. Hermione turned to see her shining sheets of silky auburn hair framing her freckled face. She was chatting animatedly with Luna, who was dressed in a pair of bright yellow dungarees over a blue turtleneck. They were an odd pair, but it was true that Ginny didn’t seem troubled at all. Rather, she seemed to be quite happy in Luna’s company.

When she noticed them looking at her, she beamed at them. Hermione did not fail to notice how Ginny’s eyes lingered on Harry before she turned her attention back to Luna. When Hermione turned back to Harry, he was bright red. She raised her eyebrow at him knowingly.

“Oh, shut up.”

—

Their first two classes were spent with Hermione trying to prod Harry into just talking to Ginny. He wouldn’t confirm what she had suspected since their summer at the Burrow, but his red face and curt nods told her all she needed to know.

In Transfiguration, they were partnered together, since Lavender managed to claim Ron before Ron could claim Harry. They were meant to be lightening each other’s eyebrows, having mastered transfiguring their own. Hermione had already successfully turned Harry’s eyebrows to a shade of platinum that even Malfoy would have envied.

Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry shook his wand at her face. “You’re too close Harry. You have to remember, you’re casting the spell but you’re removing the pigment. Channel that.” He grunted and tried again. “Let’s hope wooing Ginny goes better than this – OUCH!”

He had whacked her with his wand while animatedly trying to transfigure her eyebrows. His glare let her know that that conversation was in fact over. She couldn’t help the smirk that came over her.

They resumed their work on Hermione’s eyebrows. He continued poking and prodding his wand at her while she alternated between encouragement and chastisement when he muttered the spell verbally. However, she found herself getting distracted when she noticed Dean Thomas staring at them. No, he was staring at her specifically.

Every time she looked up, his brown gaze was waiting for hers before quickly averting itself. Confused, she returned her attention to Harry’s antics. Clearly, he was no longer even trying.

“Fine! I’ll show you how to do it again. You just had to ask. You didn’t have to keep poking my forehead with your wand.”

As she raised her wand to demonstrate the hand motions, her eyes met Dean’s brown ones again. A thought occurred to her. Had Harry managed to horribly disfigured her and was he trying to hide it? She clamped her hand to her forehead. “Harry! My eyebrow is gone!”

No wonder Dean had been staring at her. Her face turned bright red. Harry burst out laughing. “I dunno. I thought it was a nice look. Now you can’t keep raising it at me.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and set to work conjuring her eyebrow back into place.

—

The rest of her classes passed by uneventfully. She didn’t share them with Harry and while she did appreciate having his company, she actually preferred the ones where she was alone. Classes without Lavender cooing over Ron the entire period were easier to focus in.

At the end of Ancient Runes, Hermione noticed Dean lingering near her desk as she gathered her things. Before she could make eye contact with him or speak, he walked out of the classroom. Out of an abundance of caution, she pulled out a small cracked compact she kept in her bag. Her eyebrow was intact and the proper color.

The embarrassment from Transfiguration had obviously made her paranoid. It was very likely all in her head. By the time she set out her study things on her favorite table by the large common room window, she was ready to forget the strange ordeal altogether.

Her books and parchment and ink bottles were spread across the entire table. Her book bag laid at her feet, now mostly empty except for a few drafts of essays she had started and other loose parchment. She dove into her Arithmancy homework and hardly noticed time passing. Students milled in and out of the common room but it stayed largely empty. The afternoon sun drifted lazily lower in the sky, signaling the near end of the last period of the day.

“Hey, uh Granger,” a voice called from the other side of the common room as it approached.

Hermione tore her eyes away from the chart she was studying to decipher a particularly difficult piece of numerology. “Oh. Hello, Dean,” she said curiously.

There was a small part of her that felt vindicated. So, she hadn’t been imagining things! A bigger part of her felt nervous. Though they were in the same year and house, they rarely talked. Was this about the eyebrow incident? Her face colored again. No, that couldn’t be it. Why would he seek her out just to mention he had seen her without an eyebrow? He was probably looking for Harry about something Quidditch related.

To her surprise, he sat down at her table. Although his eyebrows were furrowed in what was perhaps confusion, his earthy brown eyes were direct and determined. An echo of a thought about how handsome he was flitted through her mind.

“Uh, sorry for interrupting,” he gestured to her homework spread across the table before him.

He looked around awkwardly, seemingly unsure of where to start. This was odd for him. While it was true they had not interacted very much, Hermione did know he was a self-assured person. Unlike Hermione, it hadn’t taken him long to assimilate into wizarding culture and seem like he belonged. Had she not known otherwise, she would have assumed he came from a wizarding family.

“I just wanted you to know that I’m really flattered,” he began. “I mean, I never would have imagined you would think I’m, um, ‘intelligent or artistic.’ You’re the smartest girl in our year by far, and all. But this whole thing with Ginny is still fresh and . . . ” he trailed off.

Hermione blinked at him a few times, confused. Was Dean Thomas rejecting her? She thought back to every conversation they had been a part of in the past week, trying to remember if she had unwittingly made any misleading advances. Her eyes fell on his hand.

He was clutching a folded piece of parchment with a light but unmistakable floral design printed on it. Her breath caught in her throat.

“This was really sweet,” he held out the parchment to her. “I just don’t think it would be appropriate considering everything that’s happening right now.”

Eyes wide, she snatched the parchment out of his hand. Her eyes tore through the contents. It was undeniably her handwriting. This was the same sheet she had written up as a mental exercise for herself just a few days ago.

Your dimples are very lovely and add to the charm of your smile. It’s no wonder why girls are so taken with you this year . . .

She turned it over in her hand, on the back it said, From Hermione Jean Granger in an elegant script written in green ink.

That was not her handwriting.

Without a word or second glance at Dean, she thrust the parchment back into his hands and tore into her book bag. Frantically, she rustled through the various pages; there was her Ancient Runes essay, her Potions essay, and the rest of her loose parchment. Finally, she found it. Or rather, she found the cover page with the list she had drawn up. The rest of the pages had all vanished.

“Where did you get this?” she said as evenly as she could manage. Her breathing was heavy. How in Merlin’s name had Dean received that parchment? They had been in her book bag all weekend. No one else knew about them.

“In the owl post I assume. I wasn’t at breakfast to receive it, but the school owl found me out at the pitch.”

Panic was clinging tighter and tighter to her skin. She needed to get to Harry now and ask if he’d gotten any post from her. Nothing had come in the owl post for him during breakfast, but she had to be sure. She shot up from her seat. “This is a huge misunderstanding.”

Dean’s deep brown eyes were wide and a little worried. He leaned away, almost afraid of what she might do, clearly having taken in her frantic energy.

“Listen, this is not what it seems like. I mean, I did write this. But it wasn’t a confession. I was writing a list. I make lists to clear my head. It was sort of a mental exercise.”

Now Dean chuckled, raising his eyebrow. It was the same look she had given Harry this morning. “’More handsome than Harry Potter’?”

He was laughing at her. She stuck her chin out defiantly. “So I hear other girls say.”

Dean licked his lips, bringing his fist to his mouth, clearly biting back laughter. “Look you don’t have to be embarrassed. I just thought you deserved a—“

“I don’t need an explanation, Dean. I don’t fancy you. Thank you for being a gentleman. But truly, I’m far too busy with my studies to be writing love notes.”

It took a few seconds of consideration but he nodded, accepting the truth. She started to gather all of her things, shoving them carelessly into her bag. She needed to hurry and find Harry before Ron could find her. If they all had disappeared, logically there was a risk Ron could have received his.

“Can I have that?” she indicated to parchment in his hand.

Oddly, Dean hesitated. “You know, it’s not every day the Hermione Granger writes you a love note.”

“It was a list,” she said as she snatched the slip out of his hands. He laughed, leaning back in his chair.

Just as she was about to sling her book bag over her shoulder, she heard the portrait hole open. Dread filled her stomach as she looked up, her worst fear confirmed. In came Ron, his tousled red hair shining against his freckled face. He looked paler than usual. Her stomach flipped and then it dropped. In his hands, a floral piece of parchment stuck out. His eyes met hers, determined.

“Merlin,” she said in a barely audible whisper.

A crazed feeling came over her — that Gryffindor feeling. She had to stop him, they could not have this conversation, ever. There was only one thing for it.

She plopped down onto Dean’s lap as gracefully as she could and smashed her lips to his. He froze, startled. Tentatively, he brought his hands to her hips, likely to push her away. She could feel Ron staring. Desperately, she grabbed Dean’s face, deepening the kiss and trying to ignore the fullness of his lips against hers. Shock threatened to overcome her as she realized that she was properly snogging Dean Thomas and that he was beginning to kiss her back.

She heard a sort of sputtering sound from Ron’s direction. She had almost missed it, while focusing on not looking like a complete idiot. Snogging was not something she had much experience with. She suspected the kisses she had exchanged with Viktor, based on how many times they bumped noses, didn’t really count.

She pulled away from Dean abruptly. His eyes blinked slowly as if he were just waking up. His jaw flexed as he opened his mouth and closed it repeatedly, as if wanting to say something.

“Yes, well, thank you. Sorry about the note.”

Without waiting for a response, she stood quickly from their compromising position, snatched up her bag and hurried away from Dean. She brushed past Ron, who seemed to be frozen in confusion, and scurried out the portrait hole.

To Be Continued…

#Black Wizard History #Hermione Granger #Dean Thomas #To All The Wizards

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years ago

Text

Fic: The Most Beautiful Mistake (8/?)

I promise things get better this chapter! Honest!!

Summary: Belle French and ‘Rumpel’ Gold have been best friends for a long time, ever since Belle first walked into Gold’s yarn shop. One stormy night, one bottle of wine, and a couple of heartfelt confessions later, and their relationship will never be the same again.

Rated: NC-17 overall, this chapter is T.

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [AO3]

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Eight

Belle looked down at the sonogram photo where it was sitting on the table in front of her, twirling her pen around in her fingers and wishing that the notepad page that was open beside the picture would just fill up of its own accord without her having to put any thought into the words. The only thing that she had managed to write so far was the single word “Rumpel” on an envelope which was sitting on the other side of the sonogram picture. She didn’t know what was giving her such a block. Words came naturally to her. She was good with words. Why then could she not think of a single word to write now?

Her empty iced tea glass was removed from the table and a fresh one placed down in front of her before Ruby slid into the booth opposite.

“On the house,” she said. “Need to keep your strength up, after all.”

Belle nodded her thanks and took a sip of her iced tea, still staring at the photograph. It was definitely a baby, that much was clear, but aside from that, it was more just a series of black and white blobs on the screen. There was no way that Gold would want such a stupid picture, no matter how much it meant to Belle.

“So, you’re definitely going to give it to him?” Ruby hedged.

Belle nodded.

“Yes. I’m just working out the right way to word it.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow. “You know, you could not word it at all and just give it to him in person,” she said. “And actually, you know, talk about this situation that you’ve found yourselves in.”

“I can’t do that!” Belle exclaimed.

“Whyever not?” Ruby sighed, giving Belle a look that most would describe as ‘long-suffering’. “In all the romantic novels you read, and you’ve read a lot of romantic novels, how many times have you been so frustrated with the main characters because they just refused to talk to each other, and all their misunderstandings could have been sorted out within two chapters if they’d actually sat down and communicated instead of labouring under sad misappreciations for half of the book?”

“That’s different,” Belle muttered. “That’s fiction and this is real life. Besides, there is no misunderstanding here. Everything is perfectly clear.”

“Uhuh.” Ruby smirked. “Sure it is.”

“It is! I am pregnant, I want the baby, he doesn’t, and I’m not going to force him to be part of a child’s life if he doesn’t want to be. That’s only going to make everyone miserable. That’s all there is to it.”

Ruby gave another sigh. “And yet you still want him to have a copy of the sonogram.”

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know. I just… Part of me wants this baby to have a father, to grow up with two parents in its life even if they aren’t together. I want my child to know where he or she came from and I don’t want them to resent me for keeping their parentage a secret. On the other hand, I don’t want to make everything worse by making Gold resent the child by making him into part of a family that he has no desire to be a part of. Then they’ll both hate me. And Gold will hate me even more than he already does.”

“Belle, I really don’t know where you’ve got this idea that he hates you from, you know. I really don’t think that he hates you, I was there at the hospital watching the two of you interact. That man does not hate you, honestly. I was half-expecting him to ask if he could come to the scan with you. And don’t you think that, since the baby isn’t even born yet, let alone able to walk, talk, understand the concept of single parent families and accidental pregnancy and voice its opinion of you, it’s a little early to be worrying about it hating you?”

“It’s never too early to worry about these things.”

Ruby reached across the table and gently cupped Belle’s cheek, making her look up from the iced tea and the sonogram and towards her friend’s face.

“Belle, you are this baby’s mommy and that’s not going to change. You love it already and it is going to love you no matter what happens. I promise that everything’s going to be all right.”

“But what if…”

“No what ifs,” Ruby said sternly. “You know what Granny says about what ifs, they’re just tempting fate. You’ve got to look on the bright side. You’re looking so tired and worn down at the moment, and this is only the beginning of it. You should be enjoying being pregnant. I know you’ve always wanted to be a mother and now you are one, you’re already one even though the baby isn’t in your arms yet. You’ve got yourself so worked up about Gold and his opinions when it’s really not necessary. Please honey, the best thing to do is to forget all about him. You say he doesn’t want to be involved, you say you’re fine with him not being involved, and if that’s really the case then leave it at that. Please stop worrying. It can’t be good for you.”

Belle sighed. “I know, it’s not. But all the same, I want him to have this picture. The idea’s in my head now and I have to follow through with it.”

She picked up her pen again, determined to write something.

“I still don’t see why it needs a note,” Ruby remarked. “You could just send it without. It’s not like he’s not going to know what it is or who it’s come from.”

“That is precisely why it needs a note,” Belle said sternly. “If I don’t let him know my intentions in sending it, then he could be thinking anything.”

“He’ll probably be thinking that you wanted him to have a copy of the sonogram.” Ruby raised an eyebrow. “You’re overthinking this.”

“No, he’ll be thinking that I’m emotionally blackmailing him into getting involved.” Belle put pen to paper, managed the words ‘Dear Rumpel’ and crossed them out because that was too familiar and tore off the sheet, starting again with ‘Dear Tobias’, because ‘Dear Gold’ sounded too formal. Ruby gave an exclamation of frustration and threw her hands up in the air.

“I think I might have to give up with you,” she said. “You have known this man for what, eight years? And for most of those years, he has been your closest, most intimate friend to whom you have told practically everything about yourself, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware that this man is a father who adores his son, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re telling me that despite that incredibly close bond that the two of you share, and the incredibly close bond that he has with Neal, you still won’t be able to tell how he’ll react to receiving a sonogram of his unborn child.”

“No, of course I don’t know how he’ll react,” Belle snapped. She wasn’t usually this volatile and inwardly she blamed it on her hormones. “I have no idea how he’ll react because it may have escaped your notice but I’ve never accidentally had unprotected sex and got pregnant with him before!”

Realising what she had said, Belle looked quickly around the diner, the colour draining from her face as she wondered who could have overheard, but the place was practically empty apart from herself and Ruby and a family enjoying an early lunch in another booth; none of them were paying her any attention as the mother fed the baby and the father attempted to stop the toddler from launching himself off the bench with his superhero costume cape held out like wings. For a moment, she felt a little pang of want in the pit of her stomach, knowing that in a couple of years, that would be her. For that little moment, she couldn’t wait to be wrestling a three year old down into his seat and listening to his jabber about fighting bad guys. And if Gold was there by her side during that, helping her to pull the three year old off the table, then even better.

Then Ruby gave a little groan and her attention was pulled back to the present. Her friend had rested her forehead on the table, hands over her head.

“Belle,” she said, her voice a little bit muffled by the plastic table-top, “you’re so good at reading people and judging situations except if those situations involve you, did you know that? It’s absolutely maddening.”

Belle did feel a little guilty that her friend was having to put up with her paranoia, and she reached across the table to take one of Ruby’s hands. The other woman finally looked up at her.

“I suppose I should really be thankful that I got a date with Dorothy out of your sonogram,” she muttered. “At least there are small mercies in the world and I know that my love life is going great even as I’m trying to salvage the wreckage of yours from around your ears.”

“That’s good to know,” Belle said, and any excuse to move the conversation away from her and Rum and the baby was a good one, so she added. “Tell me about Dorothy. When are you going out?”

Ruby smiled, sensing that the conversation about Belle was closed, and began to tell her all about Dorothy and what they were planning to do on their date, which as far as Belle could make out consisted of spending an evening hustling the hospital security guards at pool down at the Rabbit Hole. To each their own. She slipped the sonogram picture into the envelope and put her notebook away; it could wait till later, back when she was in her own apartment and didn’t have Ruby as a distraction trying to talk sense into her. Because what Ruby said did make sense. In any other life and in any other circumstances, she would probably have taken her friend’s advice. As it was, Ruby, as good a friend as she was, just didn’t understand the delicacy of the situation between herself and Gold. The friendship that she shared with Ruby couldn’t really be compared because she had never been attracted to Ruby and vice versa, whereas with Gold, the underlying crush had been there for so long that she didn’t know if she could remember a time when it had not been there. Their friendship had been a wonderful one, but it was skewed, in a way, because of her feelings towards him and the fact that they were obviously not returned. She’d given it long enough to try and gauge his feelings, after all. Never having been in Belle’s position, Ruby would naturally not understand it.

It would help, of course, if Belle herself could work out what on earth she wanted from her relationship with Gold. Did she want a friend for herself, a co-parent for her child, both, neither… What she really wanted, obviously, was a lover for herself and a father for her baby, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen and she knew she had to settle for something else. All that remained was to work out what that actually was.

“Come on,” Ruby said presently, looking at her watch and slipping out of the booth. “I need to get back to work and I think you do too.”

Reluctantly, Belle got up and left the diner, returning to the library. In some ways she preferred being in the diner with Ruby’s company because when she was alone with her thoughts, she did always overthink things as Ruby had said. Still, it was the usual Wednesday storytime hour soon, and the library would soon be full of children and their parents. Settling herself on one of the small chairs in the children’s section and selecting a few of her favourite picture books to read to them, Belle allowed herself to let go of all the worries of the present for the moment and just picture a happy future, sitting here in the library with her child listening rapt to all the wonderful stories that she could tell, and introducing him to all the books that she had grown up with herself. She glanced down at her stomach; it was the first time that she’d thought of her baby as being a boy, but now that she’d done it once, it was stuck in her head.

“Hey there,” she said softly down the neckline of her top, as if that would bring her voice closer to the child. “I’m pretty sure that you’re a boy, and I think I’m going to call you a boy from now on. But if you turn out to be a girl then that’s ok too. And if you don’t know what you are, or if you say you’re something different to what the doctor says you are, then that’s ok too. For now you’re my baby boy but you can be whatever you want to be. Just as long as you’re a decent human being and you love your Mama.”

“Belle?”

Belle looked up to see Marian Locksley standing in front of her, Roland’s little hand clutched tightly in hers. The other mother was smiling, although Roland was looking perplexed.

“Mommy, who’s Miss Belle talking to?” he said in a loud whisper.

Marian exchanged a look with Belle, who tried to hide a smile.

“There’s a baby in Miss Belle’s tummy,” Marian said. “She’s talking to the baby.”

“Oh.” Roland was still puzzled. “How did it get in there?”

“I think that’s a conversation for when you’re older,” Marian said hastily. “Come on, it’s nearly time for storytime.”

“Yes, come and take a seat on the mat,” Belle said, quickly changing the subject. “Since you’re here first, Roland, you can pick our first story.”

Roland grabbed one of the picture books out of the pile at Belle’s feet. “Little Bear’s Trousers!”

Belle might have guessed. Little Bear’s Trousers was Roland’s favourite book. Other parents and children had started to arrive at this point and Belle gathered them all around, pleased to be able to do storytime again and that her audience had not shrunk after a couple of weeks cancelled due to the inaccurately named morning sickness.

She read two stories as usual, and then went over to the issue desk to be on hand to check out any books that the children wanted. Roland and Marian were the last to leave, Roland going through pretty much the entire picture book box to find the ones that he wanted, and Marian came over to talk to Belle at the desk.

“So how’s it going?” she asked. “You’re looking a lot better than the last time we saw you at storytime.”

Belle nodded. “Yes, the sickness is getting a bit more manageable and I’ve not got as much cramping.”

Marian winced in sympathy. “I was lucky with Roland, I didn’t get sick at all but my word, I thought that my insides were being slowly turned upside down for the first couple of months. Have you had your first scan yet?”

“Yes, just a couple of days ago. I’ve got a picture actually.” She ducked down under the desk and rummaged in her handbag for the envelope with Gold’s name on and the sonogram picture inside, but it wasn’t there. She must have left it on the table at Granny’s when she came back after lunch.

Her blood ran cold. Anyone could have picked it up. At best they would have just given it to Ruby as lost property. At worst, they would have given it to its intended recipient before Belle had had chance to write the mitigating note that she desperately wanted to write. No, at worst, some unscrupulous soul would have looked inside the envelope, and seen the picture, and since the entire town knew that she was pregnant, they would have put two and two together and the news that Gold was the father of Belle’s mystery baby would soon be all over the town.

“Belle?” Marian was leaning over the issue desk, a couple of picture books in her hands, and Belle shot upright.

“Must have left it upstairs,” she muttered, before plastering a bright smile on her face and checking out Roland’s books. “There we are, due back in three weeks’ time. I’ll see you next week for storytime again, right?”

“Yeah!” Roland trotted off towards the library doors, but Marian hung back.

“Are you all right, Belle?” she asked. “Seriously, you’ve gone as white as a sheet.”

“Yes, no, I’m feeling a bit nauseous. Probably overdid it at lunch; I was so happy not to be feeling sick I overate.”

“Yeah, that can happen. Just take it easy, all right? You can always call if you need anything. I know we’re not best friends but I’ve been through what you’re going through and I can offer tea and sympathy and tips if nothing else.”

Belle nodded. “Thanks, Marian.”

“Any time.”

She left the library after her son and Belle sat staring blindly after them for a few minutes before grabbing her bag and turning it out over the desk. The envelope was very clearly not there, and she had to get it back before any damage was caused. Well, any more damage than had already been caused.

She swept everything back into her bag in a hotchpotch and raced out of the library, only just remembering to lock up after herself, and she rushed back down the street towards the diner.

“Belle?” Ruby asked as she rushed up to the counter.

“Ruby, the envelope with the sonogram picture in, where did it go?” Belle asked breathlessly. “Who had the booth after me, did they take it?” She glanced across at the booth she’d been sitting in which was now occupied by Leroy and a couple of his brothers. The envelope was gone.

“Woah, woah, calm down. I grabbed it after you left.”

Belle heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Thank you. Can I have it back please?”

“No.”

Belle blinked. “Pardon?”

“No.” Ruby grabbed the envelope from where it was tucked in next to the cash register and stuffed it in her apron pocket. “No, you cannot have it back.”

“Ruby!”

“All right, I’ll amend that. You cannot have it back until you stop being so silly about this whole thing.”

“I am not being silly!” Belle exclaimed.

“Belle, you’re being silly.” Ruby gestured for Belle to follow her through into the back, and once they were ensconced together in private, she put her hands on her friend’s shoulders, forcing her to look up at her.

“You’re being silly,” she repeated. “I’m not blaming you for it because I know the emotional turmoil you’re going through at the moment, but as your best friend I can’t stand aside and let you continue on this destructive path any longer. You’ve got to stop making assumptions and second-guessing yourself at every turn, you have got to start trusting your instincts again and for the love of all that is holy, you have got to talk to Gold about this!”

“I can’t…” Belle began to protest, but Ruby pressed a finger over her lips to silence her.

“Yes. You can. You’re just not thinking straight about this. Now, I don’t claim to know him anywhere near as well as you do but if there’s one thing that the entire town knows about Tobias Gold it’s that he absolutely loves his son. What in God’s name makes you think he isn’t happy about having another child? He’s a father first and foremost. You know this Belle, you’ve known it for years!”

Belle couldn’t deny it. Neal meant everything to Gold and she would be outright lying if she said he wasn’t one of the best fathers she’d ever encountered.

“I think that maybe, subconsciously, you’re being a bit selfish,” Ruby said sagely, and Belle gave an affronted gasp.

“What? How… Everything I’ve done has been about making sure he’s all right with this entire fucked up scenario! How on earth is that selfish?”

“Because all this time, you’ve been making it about you, rather than the baby. You’re worried about what he’s going to think because it’s you, not because you’re having a baby but because it’s you that’s having it.”

“I…” Belle tried to protest, but forced to look at it coldly, Ruby was partially right.

“Ok, I can’t blame you entirely for this shambles we’ve found ourselves in,” Ruby said. “He’s behaving like just as much of an idiot. Which is why, when I give this sonogram picture back to you, you are going to go over there, you are going to give it to him in person, and you are going to talk to him honestly about this baby and about what you both want. Otherwise you’re never going to do it and this kid’ll be going to college before you finally understand each other and realise that you missed out on eighteen years of… I dunno, something.”

She took off her apron, fished out the picture and presented it to Belle.

“Come on. We’re going to get to the bottom of this once and for all.”

Taking Belle firmly by the elbow, she guided her in the direction of the exit, calling to Granny that she was going on her break and would be back in a couple of minutes, and together they made the short journey down the road to the yarn shop.

The bell jingled its usual welcome as they entered, and Belle heard the tap of Rumpel’s cane as he came out from the back to greet them. To say that he looked startled when he saw Belle and Ruby standing there would probably have been an understatement.

“Good afternoon, Mr Gold,” Ruby said brightly. “First things first.” She went over and turned the sign on the door to closed. “Now.” She pointed accusingly from Belle to Gold and back again. “You two are going to talk about this baby. Not about each other, because that’s a mess for another day. But you’re going to talk about this baby and make sure that you’re both on the correct page, because I cannot stand to watch this train wreck any longer.”

Belle and Gold just looked at each other for a long time, and Ruby rolled her eyes.

“Guys, I can’t have this conversation for you; I’m not involved. I’m just getting you both in the right place at the right time. But I’ll ask this one question before I leave you to it. Gold, and answer incredibly honestly now, do you want to be involved in this baby’s life?”

The silence in the shop was deafening, and then, shoulders sagging as if in defeat, Gold nodded.

“Yes. I want nothing more.”

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #Belle French #woobie!Rumpel #Fic: The Most Beautiful Mistake

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itsahamandjlaur-blog · 8 years ago

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I Hope That You, Burn

Prompt: My brain was literally like “Aaron Burr is a dick you should write about that. Also my partner in crime (J.Laur went to the opera yesterday and I saw one picture and was like i’m gonna write about that. so here you go. Alexander x Reader and i guess Aaron Burr x Reader?

Warnings: Swearing, there is abuse in this and i advice anyone who is sensitive to anything like this to forgo this because i don't want to upset anyone it would break my heart. As a survivor as abuse myself i can't stress enough that if you are in a situation which you do not feel comfortable to get help and talk to someone. Anyone, it doesn't matter who just know that you are too precious in this world to have someone push you around or make you feel uncomfortable. Stay safe guys you’re beautiful in every way.

Be kind to one another you are all beautiful in your own ways. You’re doing a great job at being you.

I am currently working on part 3 of this so if you have any suggestions or requests for other stories let me know and I will do my upmost best to give you guys what you need.

-A.Ham

Part 2 -

"Lady Burr, a letter from a Mr Hamilton has arrive-" you snatched the envelope out of the help's hands and tore it open yet treating it like the most precious thing to you. For the last 6 months you lived in a loveless, abusive, and emotionally draining marriage to a man that you could not stand the sight of. A man that pushes aside every single suggestion and opinion simply because of what is between your legs and perched on your chest. The breath seemed not to leave your lungs for quite a while whilst you fumbled around with the wax seal. "leave me please" you snapped at one of the faceless servants that guarded and stalked the house at all times. They have been under strict instructions by your husband that you do not do anything that would 'disappoint' him or his name whilst he was hard at work. He was not hard at work, he was hard, but he was not at work. Letting a shaky breath fall from your lips you brushed your finger tips along the letter. His hand writing embodied the man that he was. It embodied the man that you so longed to hold close to you, even if it was just for a second.

My dear [y/n],

There are no words that can describe how much I long to see you, hold you, be beside you...

After reading and re-reading the letter over and over again letting the words consume the whole of your soul, you put it into the box underneath your bed. The box that contained every single letter, note and confession that Alexander has even written. Alexander Hamilton, your Alexander. Hearing the door to your home slam shut with great force you made a b line for the sitting room letting your feet carry you two stairs at a time. Silently you thanked yourself for hiding the letters when you did as your husband crashed into the sitting room. "you're home early" you said, all too soon realising that there was a hitch in your voice forcing him to question the statement. "I wanted to see my wife, is that to your satisfaction" he snapped, the alcohol from his breath hitting you like you had ran into a door. The dim candle lit room seemed to only enforce his features. He towered over you and that sort of dominance was not your cup of tea. "you've been drinking again Aaron, did the whore offer you a glass" you were shocked at your own words, maybe you will still dizzy from the letter that you had just finished reading, maybe it was something in the breeze that kept the drapes flapping from the open window. "watch your tone [y/n] you have no right to know what i do when i am worki-" "bullshit I don't have the right to know. You made sure to legally bind me and encage me in this house, to take a name that i cannot bear to say out loud. Have the decency to at least make sure that you don't have the hussy's lipstick smeared across your shirt collar." by the look on his face he was as shocked with your tone as you were. In one swift move he swpet from across the room to you, pinning your arms to the wall that was now laid out behind your back. You hit the wall with a all mighty thud and you let an un-human screech escape your mouth. Letting a slight tear fall down from your eye onto the the ruffles that lined the summer dress draped upon your body, he came close to your ear to make sure that you would feel every single word he spat at you. "you are nothing but a women, who cannot be trusted to shut you mouth when it is so required. You refuse to bear me a child and you spend your days in that god forsaken study I built you. The least you can do is be thankful for the home that I have given you and the endless bank account that you spend on books to fill the aforementioned study". Feeling the bruises staring to form on your wrists you tried to push it away, the tears brimming in your eyes as you let your mind drift to what life would be like with your dearest Alexander.

He spent his days refusing every single pairing that the whole town set him up with. He pushed it aside and said that he needed to focus on his work but you could hear the honesty in his voice every time he delivered the line at any social occasion you two happened to be attending. The eyes that you felt burning into your profile as you ate dinner. The lingering hand kisses that to anyone else would look like nothing special but to you, you lived merely to feel those kisses, to be in the same presence of him, to just feel him close by. You were brought back to the room by Aaron whispering further into your ear "you make me sick, do you think other husbands stand for their wives act the way you do? I have not a child to my name and no one to defend my legacy. You spend your days whittling away in that study reading romance that you will never get to see in your life. You don't allow me to touch my own wife, you know nothing of romance. You only know of the stories you fill your head with on a day to day basis". Every single letter of every word burned something deep down. Your skin feeling like it was being burnt and prickled with morning frost all at once. "I fill my head with stories to get away with the nightmare that is living with you. You monster, you betray everything this our nation stands for and yet you some how still claw your way into politics. You know nothing of the world in which you live, you walk around blindly. I pray that i could walk around with my eyes closed like you so I don't have to be jealous of the beauty in this world, and then come home to a soulless dark house with an equally soulless husband" you hissed at him with every last bit of energy left in your now painful body. It was painful to live in your body most days but days like today were days when you just wished life to cease. "my legacy will not be forgotten because of you, the 'whore' as you call her is with child. I have a women that will finally give me what i want." He bragged whilst he released your writs and let you sink to the floor sobbing that after a while turned into screams. Screams for your Alexander. Screams for the ending that you will never receive. You knelt there for seconds, minutes, hours? hell you could have knelt there screaming on the floor for hours no one would come, no one would comfort you or fix the damage that was now imprinted on your life. The grandfather clock chimed midnight and you realised that you had been sobbing for over 5 hours, constant blood curdling screams and broken sobs of prayers sent out into the universe that no one was yet to respond to. The next step that you took would mark your place in history. You could either accept the fact that you had waisted the best part of a year in a marriage that was doomed from the start, or you could pick your damn ass off the floor and put your brain to work. You chose the latter raising from the ground and running to the door.

#hamilton #alexander hamilton #fanfic #alexander x reader #alex x reder #aaron burr sir #aaron burr x reader #AARON BURR IS A DICK

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ladysalvaterre-blog · 6 years ago

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a walk on the wildeside

chapter 5

I began to cry harder and eventually I passed out on the couch.

I woke up about an hour later to the smell of marinara sauce. I immediately perked up from the slump I was in and made a beeline to the kitchen to see Ellie making our Mom’s marinara sauce.

“You finally learned.” I said in awe.

“It took me a while,” Ellie laughed. “But Bella taught me how to do it properly. Turns out I was salting and peppering a bit “too” sparingly.”

“You never did know when to let up.” I laughed back.

“Speaking of me not letting up how’s Lucas?” She asked with a knowing grin.

When my silence had exceeded my typical answering time, Ellie’s smile fell into a face of concern.

“What did he do now?” Ellie asked softly.

“I ruined everything Ells, everything.” I said, breaking down in tears again.

“Hey Bella?” Ellie shouted upstairs.

“Yeah.” Came the answering reply a few seconds later.

“Can you come finish the sauce?” Ellie asked.

“Sure.” Isabella shouted back.

“Come to Love Doctor Ells, I’ll try to help you.” Ellie said, taking my hands and leading me up the staircase that led to her room. She sat me down on one of the couches and she sat down at her desk which was conveniently facing me.

“Most of my friends come to me when they need advice, so I set all this up so it was like a psych’s office.” She explained, before folding her hands in a businesslike way on her desk.

“Let’s get down to business shall we?” Ellie asked.

I nodded my head.

“Excellent, now, what is your problem today?” She asked in her psych tone.

“Lucas Alexander Wilde.” I replied quietly.

“Why is Lucas Wilde your problem?” Ellie asked.

“I ruined every smidge of friendship we had when I broke up with him.” I told her.

“Why is this coming up now if you broke up with him six years ago?” She inquired.

I let a couple of tears run down my face as I said “I was in distress about the reasons behind Andrew marrying me and he patted my shoulder. I told him if he wanted to hug me he could. He got up and left.”

“You know, the six years you’ve been gone, well, not visited us, have been hard on Lucas. You were his world in high school. Adds, he loved you with all his heart. Then Mom died,” Ellie took a deep breath to calm the nerves that were likely starting to act up. “Adds, you left him. Graduation was two weeks after she died and all he wanted to do was be there for you. He came over every day and stood at the front door, asking if there was anything he could do. Then you broke up with him. For Andrew, I might add. So these past couple years have been hard for him, his most recent memory of you being when you broke his heart.”

“I know I did. I just wish the last six years of mistakes could go away.” I said, letting the tears fall freely.

“Adds, don’t cry.” Ellie said as she came to embrace me. I’ve received a lot of hugs since the car accident I noticed. “Just tell him that. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

I pulled out of my sister’s arms to say “Ell, you didn’t see him. I tore his heart into pieces. He isn’t going to be that understanding.”

“Well, I guess we’re going to find out.” Ellie said with a mischievous grin on her face.

She promptly went over to her desk and picked up her phone. She, from the looks of it, dialed a phone number. Crap.

“Hey Lucas!” Ellie said enthusiastically, shooting me a knowing smile.

I could instantly feel the blood drain from my face to my feet, the same place where my stomach and heart currently rested.

“Yeah, ok, would you mind coming over for dinner?” Ellie asked, turning away from me to pace around her room.

“Oh don’t worry… of course you're welcome!... Lucas, she’ll be fine… Lucas. Stop, she’s just as emotionally scrambled as you are… don’t even worry! I always make enough sauce for at least ten… yeah, Mom always did make room for company… alright… see you in half an hour… bye Lucas.”

“He’s coming over for dinner and you two can sort out your issues after dinner.” Ellie said, and when she spoke in that definite tone of voice, you know she won’t stand down until it happens.

“Fine.” I said with a huff, leaving her room to go downstairs. I heard my dad on his phone in the entryway.

“Gem, I just don’t know what to do. You know the Beausejour boy is going to come after me. Ferdinand is a lawyer! And last of all, Lucas and Addie are at odds now, which is not what we wanted. I just want her to know that Lucas will be there no matter what, that males can have a brain every once and awhile.”

I suddenly felt more waves of guilt wash over me. My dad cared enough about me to bring Lucas over. He knows how much Luc cares for me, and I had to go and screw it up. I decided to walk upstairs to my room to try and collect myself before Luc came over. I looked around my room in surprise once I reached it, it hadn’t changed one bit.

All my books still on my bookshelves, alphabetized by author’s last name. My desk still had my many pens, color coded. I laughed when I looked at my self-described “shrine to my childhood.” My three favorite stuffed animals sat there, along with my lighthouse project from fourth grade, a bouquet of fake roses Ellie and Dad’s mom Belle got for me, in a vase I made in art class. Behind all of that, was my childhood masterpiece, my seventh grade art project. It was a rainbow macaw made out of paper in front of a jungle I drew in colored pencils. Oh, I was so proud of it. I looked over to where my bed is and saw it still had six pillows, with three throw pillows. I smiled; my room hadn’t changed from when I was a senior. My room I shared with Andrew was cold and showed no signs of people living in it, other than the covers thrown to the floor when Andrew got too hot during the night. I ended up freezing most nights.

I went and sat down on my bed, savoring the sound of the mattress groaning under weight it hadn’t felt in six years. I had missed home, I was just now realizing. I’d missed Dad, and Ellie and Isabella. Oh my god, I missed Lucas with a passion. I missed the way the corners of his lips would tug up in a grin whenever I made a fool of myself, obviously holding back laughter. I missed the way his cobalt eyes sparkled whenever I wanted a hug and he’d always oblige me. No matter the situation, Lucas’ big arms were always open to me. I missed the way his face softened whenever I’d told him “I love you.” I missed every sliver and sinew of him, even that heart that I had broken. He had the biggest heart for his mother’s best friend’s family. He came over every single day once our mother died. He’d sit by himself, every hour asking if our grieving family needed anything. I threw all of that away just so I could attempt to ease my father’s pain and social pariah status. I can’t help but wonder what if I hadn’t pushed Lucas away, what if I had let him in and let him ease the searing pain of my mother’s loss. I have a tugging feeling that it would have made my father so much happier in the long run, outcast of society or not.

I got back up and looked at myself in my bathroom mirror. I was a mess. I looked like I at least hadn’t brushed my hair in two weeks, a far cry from the high level appearance I had to keep up whenever I left the penthouse I used to share with Andrew. I ran a brush through my hair, sprayed some dry shampoo, and there was the person I was used to seeing in the mirror. I decided to put on some lip balm and swipe a mascara wand through my lashes so I didn’t look like the heathen that came through the door earlier today. I looked in the mirror and stared for a second. I had the same high cheekbones and sharp jaw of my mother’s, same bright blue eyes and full lips of my father’s, same dimples of my grandmother Porter, but there was a certain gauntness to my face that scared me a little bit. I’d always been a happy child, full face, bright smile. Now, or at least over the past six years of mistakes, I didn’t have that full face, the high cheekbones gave way to a hollow face, the bright blue eyes preceded tired, hooded eyelids and dark bags under my eyes. I had lost something in these past few years, something I hoped Saratoga Springs could give me back, my family could give me back, and I dared to hope Lucas Wilde could give me back.

Speak of the devil, the doorbell let out a shrill cry announcing the arrival of Lucas. I took a couple of deep breaths, flicked my eyes back to my appearance in the mirror one last time, and went to face my reckoning.

When I finally made it down the stairs, I saw Lucas and his mom talking with my dad.

Gem Wilde was the reason my dad ever came to Saratoga Springs. She moved from Georgia to Saratoga to live with a distant cousin because she needed a change of scenery. Funny story, she actually dated my dad throughout high school and they broke up when she moved to Saratoga Springs, but they had been friends for the longest time, so they survived the breakup. She met Alexander Wilde a couple of months after she moved and they got married two years later. She invited my dad to their wedding and my Mom was a friend of Alexander's. Kelly’s dad Phillip was Alexander's best friend. The rest is history. Gem was there for my dad when Mom died. My dad was there for Gem when Alexander died at 33 of CML, a type of aggressive leukemia, when Lucas was three months old. Sometimes I wonder if Gem hadn’t left Georgia, if they would have ended up together.

“Addison!” Gem exclaimed, coming over to wrap me in the bone-crushing hug I’ve become accustomed to since coming home.

I took a moment to grasp the fact that Gem had called me Addison. Only Mom had ever called me Addison, well, she was the only one who called me Addison with my permission. Andrew had done it to get on my nerves.

“Addie, Mrs. Wilde, Addie.” I told her once she removed her arms from their position of squeezing the life out of me.

Gem’s face fell as she remembered why I didn’t like being called Addison.

“Addie, we talked about this, you can call me Gem.” She told me as she wrapped her arms around me again.

Gem has always acted as a surrogate mother for Ellie and I. Though I refer to her as Gem in my head, I’ve just never been able to break the habit of referring to adults as Mrs. or Mr. That was Mom’s doing.

“I’d prefer to stick with Mrs. Wilde if that’s alright.” I told her.

All while this was happening, Lucas was standing behind his mother, not saying a word. Gem decided that this wouldn’t do at all, so she grabbed her son by the arm and pulled him around so he was standing next to me.

“Lucas! Aren’t you glad Addie’s home? Your best friend is back!” Gem tried to exact some form of a reaction from him but he had on his perfected stone face, first revealed to me when I broke his heart six years ago.

“It’s nice to have her home. Can we go eat now?” He asked.

My dad saw we were getting nowhere so he yelled to Ellie “Hey Ells is dinner ready?”

Ellie shouted back “Yes sir! It’s all ready and sitting on the table!”

Ellie barreled into the room and wrapped her arms around Lucas, and he visibly relaxed. I felt a sharp pang in my chest when he wrapped his arms back around her and smiled. He used to do that with me. I know I shouldn’t feel so jealous, he was only hugging my sister, who he’s been around when I left him.

Not wanting for everyone to see how deeply that hug had affected me, I made straight for the kitchen, offering the explanation of wanting to check everything was good. A tear trickled down my face, I missed Lucas.

Everyone walked into the dining room, I had wiped my face of any signs of tears, and we all sat down to a bowl of my mother’s pasta marinara. Dad and Gem tried to keep conversation going between me and Lucas, Isabella and Ellie even tried to intervene, but to no avail. Lucas kept his stone face unless Ellie made him laugh. I felt that same pang in my chest every time he smiled. It felt as if some huge weight kept pressing down on my chest every time.

By the time everyone had finished and put their bowls in the sink, I felt as if an elephant was sitting on my chest. Conveniently, my dad and Gem went out to talk about something, and Isabella wanted to show Ellie this record her dad had sent her from Italy. I was sitting on the couch dreading the inevitable conversation between Lucas and I.

“Why did you leave me at graduation?” A voice asked from the kitchen, moving closer until Lucas sat in a chair across from me.

“I don’t know.” I said.

“The heck you don’t! Addie you left me and then started dating God dang Andrew Beausejour. Addie he didn’t say a word when your mom died. I was there for every tear you shed. Then you dump me and go seeking comfort in his small Gucci-covered arms. What did he have that I didn’t?”

“He seemed a more appealing option at the time. That’s it.”

“Addison Kennedy Porter that is not it and you know it!” Lucas said, standing up and raising his voice.

I slowly stood up, standing to my full height of 5’3”, tilting my head up to stare straight into his deep blue Wilde eyes.

“Lucas Alexander Wilde. No one calls me Addison but my mother and you know that. No one says my middle name but my grandmother. And most definitely, no one says my full name unless I’m in trouble, and I am not in trouble. I had my reasons six years ago and we will leave it at that. You think it hurt? Well I was recouping from the loss of my mother, in the biggest city in the U.S., with only the company of a suffocating, attention sycophant! Your heart was in pieces? So was mine! Maybe I wanted something different…” I said but was cut off by Lucas.

“You want something different, huh? Well maybe you should go to Georgia and get bitten by a snake and die just like your precious mother!” Lucas said coldly.

I heard an audible gasp come from the doorway, where his mother stood. I felt all the blood drain from my face, that had completely gone past crossing the line, Lucas had just obliterated the whole line in its entirety.

“Get. Out.” I said, ice dripping off every word.

“Gladly Addison.” He shot back, walking to the door and slamming it.

I was still reeling from Lucas’ comments when Gem came over to me and grasped my hands.

“Oh Addie, don’t worry, I’ll go knock some sense into him, you’ll have your best friend back in no time! He’s just forgotten how to act since you haven’t been around. Don’t worry, I’ll..”

“Stop, Gemma, stop.” I said, cutting her off and breaking my well-ingrained rule of Mr. or Mrs. “Just stop trying to act like my mom, like you can fix all my problems. In case you haven’t noticed, my mother is dead, as your son so kindly reminded me. She is dead so stop trying to replace her. You may have a special place in Dad’s heart, he may want you to act like our mom, but I don’t. My mother cannot and will not be replaced by a fake like you.” I tore my hands from hers and ran up the stairs to my room. That stabbing pain in my chest just got worse.

I threw myself onto my bed and burst out into tears for the fiftieth time that day.

I heard Ellie come up to the door saying “Addie?”

I just yelled at her “Go run back to Lucas, Ellison! He seems to like you more anyway!”

I curled up into a fetal position and pulled up the duvet to cover myself, soon falling asleep in my bed for the first time in six years.

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