#i have had a job opportunity at my college literally fall into my lap

[bluesidedown]

....

[itsrlymine]

a few “crazy” things i've manifested for myself and others

nothing is actually crazy. everything is the same and nothing is impossible. I Am Possible. 

An all expenses paid trip to Dubai (twice now) with $0 in my bank account by simply deciding that my only option is to go and be sexy in Dubai (respectfully ofc). I left my wallet in the States on purpose bc I am spoiled and everyone pays for me. That’s exactly what happened. 

I revised my best friend’s pregnancy bc we don’t do baby mamaism around here. Commit to a baby when that man commits to you. Sorry not sorry. She literally took three pregnancy tests and they all told her she was pregnant. I said no, not my girl. She was no longer pregnant. No medical procedure or any pain was experienced or necessary on her end.

Accepted in to the university I wanted to go to bc I thought it was pretty. Super low acceptance rate and I definitely didn’t have the criteria. I didn’t even have to do the college essay just bc I didn’t feel like writing (but ofc I would write fan fiction in a heart beat). 

Every single job I’ve ever had bc ofc you’re gonna hire me I’m the best employee you’ve ever come across.

Becoming besties with manifestation YouTubers I used to watch bc why not?? 

My current remote job that pays me $120/hour and I barely have to do actual work. I genuinely just scroll on Pinterest and Tumblr most of the time and when i do work, it's blissful. Love my boss tho

Apartments for my friends, family members and myself that’s everything we wanted in our individual spaces and more.

My Porsche Boxster that has super low milage and given to me for free like girl byeee.

Tons of new friends and opportunities falling into my lap

I ordered new glasses and they came in fast asf. “Usually” takes at least two maybe three weeks but I said nope, I’m wearing them right now. I am wearing them right now. 

My favorite musicians releasing new music every time I decide I want new music from them. Like if you don’t get in that studio!

[thorfemmes]

Cloudy

in which harry hates summer storms, but she loves them.

Hi everyone! I know I’m not really a fan account, so please feel free to skip over this post if you don’t want to read fanfic! I’ve decided to take part in @helladirections​ ‘s Summer Feeling writing challenge, and this is what I came up with! Feedback is greatly appreciated, I’m trying to hype myself up into writing again. Also thank you @jasline-arod​ for being my beta reader, I love you endlessly!<3

Prompts: summer reading & ice cream

Rated 18+: fluff, SMUT, soft dom!harry, teasing, edging, punishment, impact play, light bondage, condescension kink if you squint, cute aftercare!!! 

Word Count: 3.8k

Summer storms were quite melancholy.

Harry supposed he was being a bit dramatic, considering (y/n) loved the rain. If it weren’t for the possibility of getting a cold and the wandering eyes from their surrounding neighbors she would be out dancing and skipping around the backyard in the puddles and mud. But alas, their neighbors were a bit too nosy and she couldn’t afford any sick time off at work right now, so she was using this day to clean the house. Some last minute spring cleaning as she called it.  

Harry, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to roll around in the sheets all day with her. The young couple had planned a nice date out for the day: a stroll around the neighborhood, a picnic in the park, maybe some window shopping in the plaza. Their car was currently in the shop so anything they wanted to do would have to be within walking distance -(y/n) really didn’t like Ubering around. Mother Nature apparently had other plans. 

Which leads us here. Harry had seen the storm die down and in all of his stubborn brilliance had insisted on making an ice cream run. ‘S just a little drizzle! He maintained. I’ll be back before you know it, Poppet. It turns out “a little drizzle” can easily turn into torrential downpour in the twenty minutes it takes Harry to bike to and from the grocery store. He couldn’t believe his luck, and now as he approached his front door sopping wet and dragging his bike up the steps, he was silently cursing himself for deciding Ben and Jerry’s was worth the trek. 

“Babe? Is everything alright?” (Y/n) proffered over the soft music she had put on when he left. She could hear his frustrated grumbles and sighs from the living room and had of course seen the storm pick up. 

“ ‘M fine, sweetheart, just a bit wet ‘s all.” Harry griped from the kitchen. He quickly dried off the pints of ice cream and stuck them in the freezer before pouring a bowl of uncooked rice for his cell phone. Flicking off the lights in the kitchen, spotless and dust-free thanks to (y/n), he walked into the living room to find her tucked into the corner of the couch reading a book.

Peering over the pages, her eyes softly danced over her lover -damp and frumpy from the rain outside. He had a slight pout on his face that made her giggle playfully, eyes glittering with nothing but adoration and humor. 

“My strong love, fought the rain and thunder just to get his girlfriend ice cream.”

He snorted at her, trying his hardest to hold back a smile. “Think I deserve a prize, don’t you think? It was quite brave of me to go out there, I could’ve gotten swept away by the flood of puddles!”

Her laugh rang like a chime. It was times like this, soft and quiet and domestic, that made his heart skip a beat. She made him delirious and dizzy with love. 

“Of course, my love. Your prize is in the bathroom, hanging from the towel rack. I saw the rain pick up and figured you might come home a bit soggy,” She said with a laugh. “Go get changed, when you come back we can lounge about and read together.”

Harry’s heart fluttered as he shuffled out of the living room. When he came back, now changed into a crisp crew neck shirt and some washed worn sweats, he quickly popped over in front of his love. She looked up from the novel in front of her, stars in her eyes. Harry quickly leaned down and showered her in kisses. Anywhere he could reach was covered in smooches. She wiggled and whined playfully as he threw his leg over her waist, but not before grabbing the book and laying it on the coffee table face down. They grappled and playfully dodged kisses until she cried “Alright! Fine you win!” with a ridiculous pout and her hands pinned to the couch under Harry’s grasp. 

“You’re so mean,” she pouted through puffs of air.

“Mean ‘m I? Would a mean boyfriend have gone out in the harsh winter storm for-”

“It’s the middle of July!” 

“For pints of Chunky Monkey, Phish Food, Karamel Sutra, and Tonight Dough? I don’t think tha’s very mean, d’you?”

Harry swore the sigh she let out sounded harmonious. “No, I suppose not. It sounds like you’re spoiling me, huh?” She tried to loosen his grip again. “Let me up, please?”

He grinned down at her. “Kissy first?”

She leaned up the best she could for a smooch before he let her get back up. Harry laid down on the couch and patted his tummy with the hand not resting under his neck. 

“C’mere, let’s read.”

(Y/n) crawled between Harry’s legs and laid between them, her head resting on his soft stomach. “Mm, nice and comfy.”

Harry chuckled with her, loving the warmth and comfort the weight of her gave him. He wrapped an arm around the front of her chest and softly rubbed his thumb over her shoulder. 

“Do you want me to start the chapter over?” She asked, perfectly content to reread for him.

“Course not, Petal! Just pick up where you left off, please.”

“ ‘I’m going to America. To seek my fortune.’ (This was just after America but long after fortunes.) ‘A ship sails soon from London. There is great opportunity in America. I’m going to take advantage of it. I’ve been training myself. In my hovel. I’ve taught myself not to need sleep. A few hours only. I’ll take a ten-hour-a-day job and then I’ll take another ten-hour-a-day job and I’ll save every penny from both except what I need to eat to keep strong, and when I have enough I’ll buy a farm and build a house and make a bed big enough for two.’ ”

Harry began to lose focus on the story, instead concentrating on his petal’s voice, soft and clear enough for just the two of them. Almost as if the bubble around them might burst if she spoke too loudly. She began to alter her voice, adding in dashes of accents and key changes as the characters varied. Harry let a heavy breath fall from his nose as he smiled and bit his lip with a smile. 

“ ‘Do you love me, Westley? Is that it?’ ”

Harry held his breath.

“ He couldn’t believe it. ‘Do I love you? My God, if your love were a grain of sand, mine would be a universe of beaches. If your love were-’ ” 

Now, Harry knows he has a very specific taste in literature. And while he may personally prefer obscene prose and Joan Didion, this line -from a novel built on fantasies -was embroidered on his heart in bright yellow thread. The millions of grains of sand could not even begin to embody how dearly and how fiercely he loved her. His heart physically ached at the thought of her; her presence, her laugh, smile, ambition, everything. He loved (y/n) in a way he never imagined possible. Harry could not even begin to fathom a world without her. And if the little velvet box hidden in an old shoe box behind a ton of winter coats in the upstairs closet was anything to go by, he didn’t want to begin imagining it. 

“Lovey, are you okay?” (Y/n) spoke up. She noticed him stiffen up immediately after she finished reading that paragraph. 

Silence followed her question. She stuck the loose playing card she had found into the book to mark her place and gently sat up to shift herself in his lap, setting the book down on the coffee table again. Harry was pulled from his thoughts of navy blue suits and white lace gowns when she softly called his name again and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs.

“Is everything alright Harry? You zoned out for quite a while there.”

Harry looked at the heavenly sight in front of him. Her hair was a bit mussed up from the cleaning and the sweat that had no doubt appeared in the slightly humid house. She sat in an old cropped cotton shirt that proudly touted a faded improv club logo from college on it (she had gone to one meeting and of course it was the meeting where they gave out free t-shirts) with wrinkles and dried stains from cleaning spray. Her gray pajama shorts had little line drawings of bumble bees on them, and were currently riding up her thighs as they sat straddling Harry’s hips. He dragged his eyes to look at her face. He swore she was glowing in the grayish sunlight streaming from the windows. Little moles and freckles and acne scars dotted across her makeup-less face. Her eyes were wide and her lips were gaped open slightly in worry as his silence continued.

Harry finally, finally took in a breath (he desperately needed it, he didn’t realize she had literally stolen his breath away) and mumbled “ ‘M fine, petal. I just love you so much,” and with that closed the all too wide gap between them. 

Her eyes widened just a bit more before kissing back, her eyes fell closed and her hands held tightly to his cheeks. Harry swore the kiss was meant to be gentle, but then he found himself nibbling on her bottom lip and soothing the slight sting with his tongue when she whined against him. She pulled away breathlessly and looked over his face, now flushed crimson with their movements.

“I love you too!” She breathily laughed. “Let’s-”

Her thoughts were lost as Harry began to kiss a trail from below her ear and down her neck, one hand squeezing her soft hip and the other holding her head in place as she squirmed (she was a bit ticklish). He sucked and softly bit at the junction between her neck and shoulder as she let out a faint moan at the attention being given to the sensitive skin. She ran her fingers through his loose curls and gently led his head back up to meet her lips. She tenderly rolled her hips against his -his hands quickly following the motion. 

“Ah, fuck baby. You’re so fuckin’ sexy m’love,” Harry groaned against her lips. They were breathing in each other's air, hips thrusting against the other and hands grasping at fabric and anywhere they could grab. Harry lowered his hand to cup her hot pussy over her shorts, rubbing his palms against her clothed clit.

“Mmf, please Harry please!” She wanted him so badly, she was this close to ripping his clothes off at the seams.

“What d’you want baby girl? Hmm? Ask me nicely ‘nd maybe I’ll give it to you.” 

The air shifted between them. She knew he would give her whatever she wanted, but the power was now in his corner. She whined loudly and bucked her hips up as he teased the waistband of her shorts.

“Don’t be a brat, petal. You won’t like the outcome.” Harry grinned up at her, running his thumb over her bottom lip that had stuck out with a pout. “Why don’t we run upstairs so I can fuck you properly. Tha’ is unless you want to stay down here with a sore bum ‘nd nothin’ else? Hmm, petal?”

“Harry, I swear if you don’t do something I’m going to screa- ah!” Harry’s hand came down on her ass with a loud smack! 

(Y/n)’s eyes widened as she scrambled off of his lap and up the stairs to their “guest” bedroom, Harry not far behind. Harry giggled at her antics. Of course he wasn’t planning on leaving her needy and wanting, but she was being bratty and he couldn’t have that now could he?

(Y/n) all but threw herself onto their bed and ripped off her clothing, absolutely desperate for whatever Harry threw her way. She’d ride his thigh if that’s all he’d give her. She was that needy right now. 

She scrambled up the bed and sat down with her legs crossed, patiently waiting as Harry stood at the foot of the bed.

“I think 10 swats on your bum are an appropriate punishment for you steppin’ out of line. Don’t you think, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” (Y/n) watched as he walked around the side of the bed. He reached into the bedside table and pulled out a bottle of shea butter lotion and the pretty pink ribbon she was all too familiar with.

“Lay down on your tummy, petal,” Harry said, setting everything on the table. 

(Y/n) quickly laid down, grabbing her pillow and nestling her cheek into it. Harry grabbed one of the extra pillows and shoved it under her hips. He then pulled off the t-shirt and shrugged off his sweats, leaving him in a pair of heather gray briefs that left nothing to the imagination. 

“You’ve such a pretty bum, sweetheart. ‘M so excited to see it marked up with my hand marks,” Harry caressed and massaged her cheeks carefully. “Count aloud for me, lovie.”

(Y/n) was about to answer when Harry’s hand came down on her left cheek, hard. “One!” She squeaked out.

“D’you know why you’re bein’ punished, lovie?” Smack!

“Ah! Two! Yes sir! I was being bad earlier. I was being naughty and begging without saying please!” 

Harry rubbed over the sore area. “Very good, baby. Are you going to do it again?” Smack! Smack! Smack! Three spanks came in succession.

“Three! Fou-, Four! Five! No, Sir! I won’t!” She squirmed and hid her face in the pillow as her grip tightened on the material. She was a bit embarrassed at the fact that she was already getting teary eyed, but it had been a second since she'd been punished like this.

Harry paused and moved her hair out from around her face. “How are you doin’ (Y/n)? Gimme a color, please.”

“Green, Harry. I’m good, please keep going.” She wiggled and lifted her ass up towards Harry's other hand.

“Okay, lovie. Just makin’ sure.” Harry quickly kissed her cheek then pushed her head back into the pillow. She moaned loudly at the forcefulness.

The rest of the spanks came and went, leaving both of them breathless and stinging. Harry reached up and grabbed (Y/n) by the hair to pull her on all fours, his other hand removing the pillow from under her hips before running his fingers over her pussy.

“Y’not gonna do tha’ again, are you, petal?” He said smugly.

“No sir,” She hiccupped. 

A jolt ran through her as he gathered her wetness and began circling her clit with two fingers. 

“So sensitive, petal. Bet you almost came jus’ from me spankin’ you. Maybe you don’ need my cock after all? Maybe I should jus’ take care of myself and leave you here, what d’you think, petal? ”

She let out a pitiful moan. (Y/n)’s whole body was shaking; she was desperately trying not to come, her arms were shaking from holding herself up, and her breath was shaking from the stimulation of it all. She was almost there, almost ready to come when Harry suddenly let go of her hair and stopping playing with her pussy. Her arms gave out under her as she whined desperately at the loss of stimulation.

“Please! No, don’t leave me!” She sobbed. “I need it! Please give me your cock sir! I’ll be so good, I won’t come without askin’ please! Ple-”

“Okay, shh baby. Shh, ‘m gonna make y’feel so good. Y’such a good girl f’me.”

Harry leaned down and kissed up her spine gently. As he reached the base of her neck he grabbed the pink ribbon and ran it teasingly over her shoulders. “Color?”

She sniffled a bit before answering confidently, “Green, sir.”

“Tha’s my girl.” He pulled her up so she was kneeling and grabbed her arms, skillfully tying a cute little bow around her wrists. She wiggled a bit to make sure it was comfortable. Once she was settled, Harry pushed her back down into the pillow.

“What a sight. Must’ve been savin’ this for a rainy day, huh petal?”

She snorted at his joke but was quickly silenced by his finger sinking into her pussy. She hissed at the sensation, already a bit sensitive from the first orgasm he denied her. 

“Y’always so warm for me, lovie. So warm ‘n tight. Can’t wait for my cock, can you?”

She whined and pushed back on his fingers as he added another, thrusting in and curling to find her g-spot. “Please! I’ve been so good, I’m ready!”

He chuckled at her begging, letting his thumb pet over her clit again before pulling his fingers out of her after one final thrust. “Y’think you’re ready, baby girl? I know I am.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded. “I’m ready, I promise.”

Harry used the wetness he had gathered from fingering her and stroked himself a few times, exhaling heavily as some pressure was finally released. He grabbed the ribbon where her wrists were tied and lined himself up, pushing gently into her soaked cunt.

They both released a guttural moan as he moved in her; her walls tightening around him and his length rubbing inside her perfectly.

As she felt him bottom out she let out a sob that was stuck in her chest. “Fu-ck. Thank you! You feel so fuck-fucking good!” He growled in response, reaching around and playing with her clit again while he waited for her to get accustomed to his size. She choked out another moan and squirmed, crying “Please! You can move now, please fuck me!”

He pulled out until only the head of his cock remained in her cunt, and then thrusted back in experimentally. Her moan spurred him on, allowing him to continue to set a slow and rough pace. 

“Holy fuck, bunny. Y'feel so good,” Harry grit through his teeth. “I love this fuckin’ cunt, this ‘s all fo’ me, huh?”

She moaned and nodded as she squeezed his cock as tight as she could like a good girl. She wanted to behave, be his good girl. (Y/n) wiggled her hands at him as he continued to thrust. He got the hint and laced his fingers with hers. She let out a contented sigh that melted into a moan as his thrusting sped up. He loosened one of his hands from her grasp to reach down and stroke her button of nerves. 

She wailed in response, tears brimming in her eyes again from the overwhelming sensations attacking her. Harry was all that existed. He surrounded her, stopped playing with her bundle of nerves and reached his hand up to wrap around her neck, pulling her up to meet his kisses. All she could feel, smell, taste as he paused thrusting to slide his tongue into her mouth before slamming back into her and letting her drop back into the pillow. 

“Sh-shit baby girl. I can feel y'squeezin me, you’re almost there aren’t you?” She nodded in response, unable to form words. “Hold it jus’ a bit longer, I know you can do it. Fo’ me please, petal. Wanna feel tha’ cunt come with me.”

She shuddered as she fought to hold her orgasm back. Her cunt clenched and dripped down her thighs as Harry pounded into her as quickly as he possibly could without hurting either of them. 

“N-now! Come now, petal! Give it to me, baby. Come for me!”

(Y/n) came with a shout, her eyes shut as tightly as possible. Her whole body clamped down onto Harry’s cock as she came and came and came. Her orgasm pulled Harry’s out of him, milking him for everything he had. One final thrust had him filling her with his cum, both moaning at the feeling of her pussy being filled even more.

She slumped into the pillow, body feeling like pudding. Harry leaned over her as they both took a moment to catch their breaths, both spent and relaxed after their afternoon delight. Harry recovered first, gently pulling out of her cunt. She clenched around him as he left her, almost as if she was inviting him to stay.

He quickly untied her wrists, mind set on dealing with his spilled seed later. He delicately rubbed the tender area, gently kissing the indentations.

“Y’did so good for me, (Y/n), thank you baby,” he whispered to her. She looked at him with foggy eyes, the afterglow finally settling in. She hummed in acknowledgment of his praise, smiling softly at him. “I’ll be ri’ back, petal. I’ve gotta go grab stuff to clean you up.”

He ran as quickly as possible to grab water bottles and snacks from downstairs, before stopping for a wet washcloth and a change of clothes for her on the way back. He set the food and spoons on the bedside table before cracking open a water bottle for her.

“Can you sit up a mo’? I know your bum’s a bit sore.” He helped her sit up enough to drink the water he gave her. As she gulped down the water, thankful for the cool drink to sooth her heated throat, he gently wiped up the mess he made of her pussy. He ran and tossed the cloth into their ensuite sink, quickly returning to his love. 

“Can I rub some shea butter on your bum and wrists? It’ll help with the soreness, lovie.” 

She sleepily nodded before asking “Could you please pull my hair back? It’s sweaty and itchy now.”

He laughed at her cloudy state and grabbed one of their scrunchies off of the dresser and carefully tied up her hair. He then pumped some lotion into his hands, warmed it slightly and guided her to lay down on her tummy again so he could soothe the red marks. After a few moments, when her fogginess had cleared and they were giggling and cracking jokes as he jiggled her bum in his hands, he helped her get up and walk to the toilet so she could relieve and redress herself before heading to their bedroom with the snacks. 

(Y/n) climbed into bed, mindful of her sore bum, and excitedly grabbed the remote to turn on a movie for the couple to unwind to. Harry followed closely with two pints of ice cream and spoons -Chunky Monkey for her and Karamel Sutra for himself. They giggled again and settled down under the blanket as the opening scene to Clueless started on their television. 

Taking a bite of the ice cream, (Y/n) looked over at her boyfriend. “Hey Har?” He looked at her, mouth full. “Thank you for getting us ice cream even though there was a storm. And for letting me read to you. I hope you enjoyed your prize.” She winked at him with a huge grin.

Heartily laughing, he leaned over and landed a loud smooch onto her cheek. “Of course, anything for you my love.”

As she cuddled into his side, snacking on ice cream and watching this cheesy rom-com, he knew he needed to find a reason to excuse himself to the closet that evening.

[aaronhotchnersquarterzip]

Meeting You Flipped the World Upside Down - Or Maybe Just Mine

Here is Chapter 7! Hope you enjoy this chapter is basically all fluff.

Summary: Reader has been a rut, stuck in a never ending cycle of college worries and job interviews. Never did she think that SSA Aaron Hotchner, or Agent as she likes to call him, would walk into her favorite late night diner and flip her world upside down. And he for sure didn't expect to fall in love so quickly with the soon to be college grad. They navigate finding love and working together to rediscover what that means for each of them.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner X Female Reader

Word Count: 900

I Love You

Your days were repetitive, in the good way now though. Whenever Aaron was free you would jump at the opportunity to go over and tangle up the sheets with him. When he was on a case you texted him and vice versa. It was the most adult relationship you’ve ever had, it was refreshing. You also were able to grab a job at a bank to fill your time, it wasn’t anything fancy but it paid decent enough. 

Before you knew it almost three months had passed, leaving you with only 2 weeks before moving back near campus. The conversation as a whole was avoided until humanly possible. We were out to dinner when Aaron brought it up, obviously aware you weren’t going too. 

“We can make this work you know?” The sincerity of his voice brought tears to your eyes, out of everything you thought he was going to say, that wasn’t it. 

With a slight sigh of relief you grabbed his hand over the table and smiled. “What did I do to deserve you Aaron?” 

He brought your hand up and kissed the back of it, “I’m the lucky one, love.” Your heart literally swooned. The three months with Aaron have been the happiest months that you can remember. You met his team shortly after meeting Dave. He invited you to a dinner at his mansion and insisted Aaron brought you. Emily, JJ, and Penelope immediately invited you to all of their girls' nights whenever they were all in town. But most importantly, you met Jack. The sweetest little boy to ever walk the Earth just so happened to be the son of the man who you would move oceans for. The Hotchner household became a home before you realized it. Leaving now was going to be hell. 

“I don’t want to leave Aaron, this sucks.” You huff out a dry laugh and he holds your hand just a little tighter. “Sweetheart, I will come visit whenever I can. I’m sure Jack will also want to come see you. We can make this work until you graduate. You’re worth it, we’re worth it.”

“Can my two favorite boys help me move in at least?” Aaron smiled so large his dimples showed, god you loved his smile. 

“Of course my love. Anything for you.” He paid the bill afterwards and drove you to his apartment where you were greeted by Jack and thousands of hugs. 

When Aaron had settled Jack into bed you two had a serious discussion about you moving back. 

“I’m scared Aaron, really fucking scared. The last thing I want to do is lose you or Jack. I don’t want you to regret waiting for me. I love you too much to let you do that.” Without realizing it you finally told Aaron you loved him. It was no secret that you did, you just never found the right time to tell him. The realization came finally when you saw the way Aaron was looking at you, a slight smile on his face and his hand on your cheek. 

“I love you too, pretty girl, so so much. I could never regret anything if it means I get to be with you. You’re it for me.” He gave you a quick peck and let you internalize his words. You hadn’t been able to process anything correctly, what should have been one of the happiest moments of your life brought you to sobs. Aaron quickly pulled you into his arms and held you while you cried. Soaking his t-shirt with your tears he maneuvered you both to sit on the couch, straddling him so he could continue holding you. Every so often you could hear him reassuring you that it would be okay and that it would all work out which only made you cry harder. How were you going to be able to leave this man? 

Once you calmed down, Aaron left you on the couch to make you both some tea. Literally only making you want to cry again. 

“Are you alright sweetheart?” He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and passed you your tea. 

“Better, I’m sorry. That's not how I wanted tonight to go.” 

“I can’t think of any better way to have spent tonight love, I meant it when I said you’re it for me. I’m here for all of the good and bad days. I love you.” He kissed your temple and took a sip of his tea. 

“I’m gonna miss you. And Jack. And the team. What am I supposed to do when the life I want is hours away from where I have to be. I never want to leave your arms.” 

He laughed a little and pulled you onto his lap, setting down both of your mugs, “If I had it my way you’d never leave my sight. But you need to do this for you, we’ll be there for you every step of the way. You’re going to do amazing things and I can’t wait to stand beside you while you do them. You’re my biggest inspiration.” He kissed your nose and rested his forehead against yours. 

“I’m, of course, not looking forward to not seeing you all the time. I’ll miss you so much but Jack and I will visit when we can. It's no different from when I’m away on cases, we can make this work. And we still have two weeks before we move you in, there is nothing to worry about dear.”

You kissed him and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you Agent, so much,” you whispered on his lips before kissing him once more. 

That's how you spent the night, wrapped up in the love of your lifes arms hoping that love will be enough to get you through these next few months. 

[niel-trbl]

My Last

Note: honestly this was inspired by the whole 5 ex-boyfriends and husband saga on bubble and wongfu production’s the last. i have another version with the actual line-up of the 5 ex-boyfriends and husband, let me know if you’re interested in reading this one too!

The sunlight poured in as it found its way through the curtains, signalling that it was already morning. A pair of arms snuck around your waist, pulling your body close to him. You turned and rest your head on his chest, listening closely to the rhythm of his heart.

“Good morning love,” Chan kissed your temple as he snuggled closer to you.

“Good morning to you too,” you sat on his lap and studied his features.

“I know this is weird but, how many did you love before me?” you finally said after a long pause.

“Hmm... Five, I loved 5 people before you,” he contemplated before answering.

“Who are they?”

“Who, What, When, Where and Why,”

“Can you tell me about them?”

Who Chan loved, was a senior at the dance academy he used to attend. It was hard to miss their name, you could literally hear every single person utter their name every time. They were the star performer. The way they moved and their expressions were so elegant - as if they was gliding on air. Almost everyone fantasied the idea of performing a duet piece with them, or even just to work with them once. Chan too was one of them. Unlike those fantasies where the star performer falls in love with the beginner dancer, he never got the opportunity to work with them during his time there, let alone interact with them. But he managed to get a few acknowledging nods and soft smiles from them, which was more than enough.

What Chan loved, was an old friend. Both of them met pretty early in college and unexpectedly, became even closer friends afterwards. They literally saw each other grew - from the bad haircuts to job changes, even through all of the relationships. They knew each other almost too well at this point. Some might even call them soulmates. But it was always not the right timing with this old friend. They were never single at the same time and even though they loved each other a lot - it was not enough for both of them to drop everything and be together.

When Chan loved, was his first significant other from high school. High school love was always described as full of youth and adventure, which was exactly what that relationship embodied. He shared new experiences together like their first ever relationship, first school dance and their first kiss. All of the late night sneak outs, arcade battles and drama crying sessions reminded Chan so much of his younger days - the times of innocence and adventure.

Where Chan loved, was his colleague. It was his first time moving out of your little town and it was for an internship that he had been eyeing on for a long time. That was where he met his colleague, who had been his partner-in-crime during his stay in the city. They made him feel at home, even though he was in a foreign place. Chan would have never thought that one of his happiest memories would come from that city. Whenever anyone asks where’s the place that feels like a second home to him, he would always say that city.

Why Chan loved, was a family friend. When one of their close relatives passed, they came to stay at his family home. As he had a proper heart-to-heart conversation with them, they opened up about how they were feeling about the situation. It was only then it made him realised how precious love is and how much of a waste it would be if he hadn’t poured all of his love to his loved ones. The regret you’d feel from not loving them hard enough. They were the reason that made Chan love people with all of his heart.

“And, you are the sixth,” Chan finished.

“But which one am I?”

“None. Because you are all of them. You are who I love, what I love, when I love, where I love and why I love,” he said as he placed 5 kisses at different parts of your face.

His hand reached out for his bag that was on the floor and he took out a black velvet box.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for so long and I can finally do it. You are my fantasy that came true. You are my soulmate. You are the right timing in my life. You are my home, wherever you may be. You are the reason why I am so happy in this life. You’re not just the sixth - you are the last one. Will you be my last?” Chan slowly opened the black velvet box, revealing a beautiful ring.

You nodded and he slipped on the ring into your finger. Chan, no longer your boyfriend - now fiancé, soon to-be husband. Your Last.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Revelation

note: Chris Cuomo really is the only person who has the power to make me drop everything and write smut in the middle of the day just bc of one sentence he said on air (I’m obv talking about this) and I hate him a little bit for it (jk I don’t)

words: 1.4 k

warning: swearing (as usual), smut, daddy kink (obv)

Enjoy and sorry for typos and grammar, this came right out of my stupid brain

“I just don’t know what to do! “you whined, throwing up your hands in exasperation.

The decision about whether or not you should take this once-in-a-lifetime job offer had you racking your brain for the last two weeks. You loved the place you were working at right now, it was familiar and safe, the first job you took right out of college. But you were in a dead end now, and this new opportunity meant that you would be able to climb a gigantic step up the career letter, the better salary was also a huge plus.

But with that came a lot of added responsibility, the possibility of long hours and a whole new field of work you had little experience in. The new firm was expecting your decision the next day, and you were freaking out.

You had never been the type of person to just take a leap of faith, you were a careful planner and loved talking things through over and over again before making a decision.

So you talked to the person you trusted most, you boyfriend Chris. He was a couple of years older than you, meaning that he had considerably more career and overall life experience. When you addressed the topic, he went out of his way to help you. You made lists, had hour-long discussions about the pros, cons and how it would influence the life you had together. Chris was definitely in favor of you taking the new job.

“A change of career paths is a normal thing to do, this position would grant you so much more creative space and room to grow professionally. Your current firm is great, but there is nothing left for you to aim for there. You’re only 30, you’re too young to just settle for a job without persepective.” He said, voice already slightly annoyed. You have been talking about this for two weeks now, always going back and forth, and he was starting to get fed up with the topic.

“You’re right, but I’m just so afraid. It’s so much responsibility, and I’ve never worked for a magazine like that before. What if they find out I’m completely useless at writing about fashion, and then I’ll be fired?”

“Babe, they offered you the position. That means they’ve seen your work, and they like it. They want you. Trust me, those changes are necessary. It was such a big risk for me to abandon law and go into journalism instead but look where it got me. If I hadn’t taken that step, maybe I would sit in some law firm now, but I would definitely not be happy. And even as a journalist, I had to take several turns and make changes to get where I am now. It’s part of the journey.”

“I know.” You whined. You had heard all those arguments before, but you just couldn’t make up your mind. Turning to Chris, you pouted a bit and spoke. “I hate making decisions, why can’t you just decide for me.” Hearing that, Chris just shook his head, looking really frustrated now.

“For God’s sake, Y/N, don’t force making that decision on me. I can’t do that for you. I’m not your daddy.”

It was like your brain suddenly decided to completely shut down, the words Chris just said echoing in your head over and over again. You felt a spike of arousal between your legs, clenching them together as you tried to stifle a groan.

“Say that again.” You whispered in a breathy voice.

Chris was visibly confused.

“What, I said I’m not your daddy, why-“

The needy whimper that escaped your mouth at hearing that word again interrupted him, and he looked at you with the most perplexed expression before it dawned on him.

“Fuck, baby.” He murmured as he realized what you were up to. You could see his eyes darken as he was making his way over to you, grabbing you to pull you close. He leaned down to cup your jaw with his huge hand and tilted your head up so you were looking directly at him.

“What do you want to call me, baby?” he asked, voice a low growl now.

“Daddy.” You whimpered, leaning into the touch of his hand.

“Say it again.” He groaned, and you could feel the evidence of arousal starting to push against your stomach. You moaned at how stained his voice sounded, burying your head into his broad chest. “Daddy, please.”

“Do you want daddy to take care of you, baby?” He asked, and roughly squeezed your ass over the fabric of your yoga pants.

“Yes, please touch me, I need you.” You were a total mess just from the few words Chris had said, your panties already drenched as you grinded against the bulge in his sweats.

His huge hands gripped the hem of your pants and pulled them down together with your panties in one swift motion. Seconds later, his fingers were buried in you, pumping in and out of your pussy while you were clinging to him, your knees almost giving out under you.

“Good girl, you’re so wet for daddy.” Chris muttered, his thumb brushing over your clit before harshly pressing down. You could swear that you saw stars for a second as a powerful orgasm ripped through you, making you coat Chris fingers with your arousal.

You collapsed against him, and he picked you up, carrying you over to the couch. He carefully sat you down before quicky pulling down his own pants. His cock sprung free, he was already hard, clearly enjoying this as much as you did.

Chris sat down on the couch and beckoned you over with his finger.

“Come here, baby, you know what to do.” he said, and the deep, wanton tone of his voice would’ve make you do literally anything.

You crawled over to him, climbing on his lap before slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. You cried out at the feeling of being filled like this as you slowly took every inch of him until he was fully settled inside of you.

“Shit, Y/N, you feel so perfect around my cock.” Chris pressed out through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your tights so hard he was definetly leaving marks.

"Move for me, baby.” He groaned, delivering a sharp smack to your ass.

You started bouncing up and down on his cock, whimpering every time you sunk back down and felt him stretching you all over again. The friction was delicious, but you needed more.

"Daddy.” You whimpered. “Fuck me, please. I need more.” For a second, it surprised you how needy your voice was sounding, but you were beyond caring.

With a growl, Chris grabbed your tights and started pushing you up and down on his cock, snapping up his hips to deepen his thrusts. He was handling you like you weighted next to nothing and seeing him use his strength that way turned you on beyond measure. You threw your head back, totally lost in the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re so perfect, baby.” He moaned, “such a good girl for me.”

Hearing those words was like a catalyst, and when Chris roughly pressed you down onto his cock, your climax hit you out of nowhere, making you tremble and shudder as you came. Seeing you falling apart like that pushed him over the edge as well, his iron like grip holding you down as he spent himself deep inside of you with a shout.

For a moment, no one was speaking as you slowly collected yourselves again.

“Wow, that was crazy.” You exclaimed after catching your breath.

“Yeah, I have no idea where that came from.” Chris admitted, pushing his sweat-slick hair out of his forehead before kissing you deeply. “But I really liked it.”

“Me too.” You replied. “Maybe it even convinced me to take that job offer. But I think we have to do it again before I can make a definite decision.”

You winked at him and he playfully smacked your ass in return.

“Everything for you, baby.”

[boomboomjaz]

𝔹𝕣𝕠𝕜𝕖𝕟 𝕊𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕟����

kuroo x reader

genre: angst

word count: 1666

summary: a red string appears when you are lost but what happens when it breaks?

warning: major character death

author note: this is my second fics for a collab/event with @yacoka​ and haha sorry i wrote this when i was stressed for my finals

Lost.

According to the Merriam-Webster Thesaurus, lost is an adjective. No longer possessed. Gone, mislaid, misplaced, missing. In sum, nowhere to be found. Not only that but a person can feel like they themselves are lost. Not physically lost, but emotionally or mentally. Not knowing what to do next or what was the meaning behind them living. One tiny word holds so many meanings. And to a sense, you understood them all.

Fresh out of college, with a degree, you can’t even use it at a dead-end job. With limited options in a city that is supposed to be filled with opportunity. It was all supposed to be going great, not in a cramped apartment with rent that needs paying. All of it was overwhelming but at least you didn’t have to worry about any more essay deadlines. 

The stress, the feeling of everything trying to tear you down, to bring you to your knees and yell your heart out. You can feel it all taking a toll on you. In all honesty, you wished you were physically lost and not knowing where your life was going. 

Thus, this is how you found yourself at the public library. You haven’t been there since your last research paper but now you were there for two different reasons. The first reason was that you wanted to check out your favorite book. The second was that you wanted to do research on the urban legend you heard so much about. The one that says when you feel lost, a red string would appear and lead you to your soul mate.

So at a table, you sat down with a pile of books all relating to the subject. You were hoping that learning more about it would make it feel real. Because if you could find love now, maybe your life wouldn’t feel as numb. Maybe you would feel like you found yourself. 

That is how you read books upon books, but with each paragraph, you started to feel more and more hopeless. What even were the chances that you would find your soulmate? Are soulmates even real? For all you know, it could mean that soulmates were for people who felt like they belonged. For the believers. You just wanted an easy fix to your life. 

WIth more frustrating feelings building up, you laid yourself down and just stared at your favorite book. Your eyes scanned the title and you let your mind wander about any old fairy tale. You weren’t asking for a prince charming or the main character. You would be happy being town person B that is married to town person A.

Found.

‘I lost my way all the way to you and in you, I found all the way back to me.’ -Atticus

That quote. It replayed in your mind for a while, remembering a poetry book you found in the library. You had only read it to forget all the research you had done before. But now it was all you could think about as the clouds grew darker outside. 

That is where you stood, outside the library with the poetry book in hand. Your heart aching with sadness knowing life would never go the way you wanted. But… there was something inside of you that held hope. It just didn’t take long until you squashed the idea and continued your way to the subway station to go home. 

With all the stress you were feeling, you wouldn’t be surprised if you found a grey hair or two. It seemed like with each passing moment you felt more and more feel lost. That is until you felt a sudden urge. You no longer felt like taking the subway home. Instead, you took a sudden detour through a nearby park. It confused you as to why you decided to take a different route back to your small apartment. For sure it was a long way home. 

As you walked through the park, you couldn’t help but wish you were still a child. You were never this stressed before but carefree. The only thing you would worry about at a young age was what was on tv or if you were getting ice cream for dessert. 

And then it hit you.

Literally, it hit you. A volleyball had went flying and managed to hit you in the head. Just your luck. You rubbed your head and looked around, trying to see who was responsible for your sudden injury.

Standing there before you was a guy around your age with the worst yet most unique looking bed hair you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. You could feel the second urge, to ask him for his name. But you were left without words.

“Sorry about that! Can you toss the volleyball back?” the boy with the bed hair asked.

His hands were out, ready to catch the volleyball. Quickly, you picked the ball up and turned back to him. Then you noticed a bright red string tied to his finger. Your eyes followed the string and noticed that it connected to your own pinky.

You tossed the ball back to him and watched his eyes scan the ball’s return. He then turned and tossed it to his group of friends. 

Turning back in your direction, he began to walk closer.

“Again, sorry about that. One of them is still learning how to receive. Let me make it up to you since it was my fault. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou.”

He was quick with his words, leaving you in shock. You smiled knowing that you found the one. He was going to help you feel like the person that you once were.

“Ln Yn.”

Learning.

With every new thing that you find, you must learn something about it. That was your interpretation after meeting Kuroo. It all started with one hang out at a cafe. That is where the two of you got to know more about each other. You learned that he had a huge love for science and volleyball. That his high school years were filled with practices and growing into a stronger and better person. 

It was that one meet up that made you want to learn more about him. And it looked like he felt the same way because the two of you exchanged numbers. Every night you would stay up late talking about the smallest things. What you did that day, a memory from years ago. He even told you about how he was in a volleyball club in high school and that they were some of his proudest moments in life. In exchange, you told him about your accomplishments in life and all the hopes you had.

“What about now?” Kuroo asked over the phone. 

You sat up in bed in silence. What were your accomplishments so far? Managing to have a roof over your head? How do you tell a man that was on his way to success that you were struggling to make ends meet so you didn’t have many accomplishments?

“I guess my accomplishment was meeting you.”

“Oh.”

Broken.

“Being hurt to the point where you feel broken… I don’t like this feeling,” you told your best friend over the phone. 

“Where did it all go wrong?”

“I don’t know. I thought everything was going fine but I guess that was my fault… I feel lost again,” you replied. You hung up soon after and reflected.

Where did it all go wrong? Why did Kuroo start avoiding your phone calls?

You looked at your hand and noticed the red sting you used to take pride in was still tied around your finger. You pulled the string closer to you to see the end of the sting. It was cut, broken even. The sting that connected you to Kuroo as your soulmate was gone

It shouldn’t be a surprise. You noticed when he stopped hanging out with you. When the nightly phone calls turned into weekly phone calls until they stopped. When the text messages slowly started to give out until you were left on read. Even then you were soon left on delivered. And it was impossible to ignore the feeling that you felt a piece of yourself break when the sting was cut off.

Maybe the universe wanted to get a final laugh in because your phone flashed with Kuroo’s name. You opened the text message and felt your heart drop. 

You were acting childish before. There was a reason why Kuroo was falling off the grid. Why over the course of many months he started to disappear. He was dying. Around the time you noticed the sting was cut was around they announced him to be gone. And according to his family, he left one final message for you.

Quickly, you opened the video message.

Kuroo looked very pale and weak. So fragile that if you touched him, he might fall apart. He smiled weakly at the camera. Trying to show you all the love he secretly had for you. When he spoke he quietly explained that a month after meeting you he got sick. It started as a small cold but then it turned into something more deadly. That he never wanted to ignore you but something he would so tired that he couldn’t reply. He loved talking to you and you were his motivation to keep fighting until he couldn’t anymore. 

If he could turn time back. He would. He would go back and meet you sooner and do the things he wanted to do with you. His one dream for the both of you was to go to a carnival and kiss you at the top of a Ferris wheel. 

“I love you, Yn.”

“Kuroo… I love you too,” you whispered back as tears fell into your lap. 

The string broke cause of death. Never to feel connected to him again. Even if you rode a Ferris wheel every night, it’ll always feel empty without him.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

MIEMBRO DE HONOR

Mayans MC + Reader

Anon asked: can you do a platonic mayans mc imagine where the reader (gender neutral or a girl) is a street kid (preferably a teenager) who steals wallets and stuff and they break into the clubhouse to steal money/food and one time they get caught. at first the reader is timid and doesn't really trust anyone but after some time they became part of the family? thank you! 💙 (! if you don't do platonic imagines then you can make this into angel x reader (with the reader over 18 of course!)

Word Count: 1.2k

Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.

Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​@sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)

You had been watching the scrap yard for five days. You were sure that there would be food, because of the time the riders used to spend inside, being super easily entering by night. The walls weren't too high and there was a tree close to the limit, so you just needed to climb it and jump. You were doing it since you were eight, when your family abandoned you and you had to survive in the streets. So, you waited for the last motorbike to leave and the man with strange hands to close the main door.

Past half one in the night, you checked that it wasn't no one close or looking to cross the road. Putting on the hoodie of the black sweater, you climbed the tree to have one look among the trash. There was somekind of house at the end of the yard, knowing that that was your objective. Jumping to the wall, you whistled waiting for some seconds. No dogs. No danger. Supporting your hands on the edge of the wall to leave your body goes down, your legs muffled the jump, shaking after your knees to take off the dust.

You were walking from row to row to avoid being caught, until you reached a green door that separated the house from the scrap yard. Grabbing from your bag some needles, you opened the padlock to open it and come in. Everything was dark inside, having to use a lantern to guide your steps through the yard to the porch. The fact that the door wasn't locked surprised you, open it slightly to stick your head out and check that there wasn't anyone inside of it. Lights off and all clear. You came in, finding the kitchen at your left like a miracle.

There was a lot of food inside, having a sandwich and so many fried potatoes, even if they were cold. At this point, you didn't care about the temperature. You also grabbed a beer from the fridge, one of these mixed with tequila, over the other classics. You were sixteen, but you weren't stupid. The problem was when you had another. And another. And another. Until you had the whole six pack. You were too drunk to leave, deciding to have some rest on the comfortable leather sofa. Just some seconds.

“Wake up, querida”.

Those words sounded like a far echo, opening your eyelids with some blinks until you knew you had been caught by eight men; two of them pointing you with loaded guns. Sitting up on the sofa too scared to talk, you just looked at them, babbling with no sense.

“Were you hungry, ah?” The shortest man with a big black moustache, crossed his arms on his chest waiting for an explanation. You nodded, swallowing.

“Yeah, and thirsty”. A much younger one spoke this time.

“I-I'm so-sorry… I just…”

You decided to use the ‘cry-card’, hoping they would take pity on your life and let you go. But they didn't believe those crocodile tears.

It's five to nine in the morning and you're walking around the main Mayan's table like a locked lion. Nervous like never before. The guys are positioned around Bishop's chair, in front of your laptop, waiting to be nine o'clock. They know how much you're suffering, because you're like an open book.

You have to recognize that, at first, it was hard to trust that they just wanted to take care of you; because they locked you down for a week, until they showed you that you were safe. It was easy with the youngest. Angel and Coco were always making jokes and fun to see you smile, while Creeper and Gilly were too busy teasing you, according to them, to make you stronger mentally. The oldest used to treat you like a kid, until they saw that you never had the opportunity to be one.

Since that night when you came to steal some food, they practically adopted you after knowing your story. You hadn't a house, a job, a family… Anything. They were like angels fallen from heaven. Your salvation. They taught you to fight, to shoot, to be silent, to be loud, to fix a bike and a car. They taught you about self-love, about the meaning of having a family and friends. They welcomed you, just asking you for loyalty. Simple and clearly. And you did. Of course you did. You don't know what could be of your life, if they didn't ‘find’ you.

“Querida, come here”. Bishop says offering you a hand, while Taza makes himself aside to let you catch it.

Sitting you on his lap, he urges you to look at him. That man. That man who turned into your father, in all the aspects you could imagine. He gave you, literally, all. Even the time he hadn't. Leaving a kiss on your temple, he surrounds you closer with his arms.

“You will pass it. You will be the best doctor ever, okay? Trust yourself as we trust you”.

They made you continue your studies. They all paid your years at college, a house in San Diego and all your bills, as if you were one of them. And even if you swore to give them the money back, you know they will never accept it. They love you. And you love them.

“Vamos, mija, es la hora”. (C'mon, ‘daughter’, it's time). Marcus says, feeling more nervous than before that you can't even type your name.

Angel does for you, entering into the college database. Having a deep breath and receiving a kiss on your head from Tranq, you look for the final grades. There are a lot of students on the list, licking your lips while you type your surname on the searcher. Clicking enter, the database shows you the results of your exams, and the final grade. You find yourself crying like a child, while the guys cheer you.

You did it.

You did it after long nights studying, falling asleep on top of some bike, on the billar, on the Templo's table, on your bed… everywhere. After days being obligated by Creeper and Gilly to eat, just because you didn't want to lose a single second of study. After tedious mornings teasing EZ to help you with maths. After all this time, you did it.

“You took me off so many bullets, to fail, mami”. Coco laughs, don't trying to remember that crazy ride.

“Congrats', princesa”. Riz says hugging you, as soon as you get up from Bishop's lap.

“Call the charters, prospect, we're having a party tonight”. Angel sings somewhat loud.

“That's my decision, not yours”. El Presidente turna at him, pointing his chest with a finger. “Call the charters, prospect, we're having the best party ever tonight in honour of our beautiful doctor”.

[utterlyinevitable]

Ode and Ethan are so cute together, my heart could burst 💓

More questions coming your way

Who says I love you first? How long into the relationship? How does it happen?

How far into the relationship do they move in together?

How do they celebrate Ethans 40th?

Whats the most special gift they have given each other?

What do they love most about each other? Do they have any pet peeves?

Do they always work together? Does Ode surpass Ethan in the medical world?

Did E make up with Louise in this universe? Of so what does she think of Ode?

♥️

> ask me anything <

Yay! Okay here we go!!!!!

So my initial reaction is... neither of them actually ever says it. They feel it and they’re secure enough to just know. They have this little head jerk and eyebrow raise that basically is their way of saying “i love you” which they do all the time. Just a silent recognition without giving too much away to those around them. But eventually like 10ish months into it it’s said out loud as an off shoot. Wasn’t meant to come out but it did ever so naturally. 

How it comes out? ...................... this literally took me three days to figure out:

Ode says it first. On a phone call. She didn’t mean to say it, it just slipped out with her goodbye of “alright. love you. bye”. She didn’t even realize she said it until hours later when she was replaying the conversation, mentally checking off that she has all the things they agreed upon before she heads home.

After residency Ode and all her friends go separate ways so she needs to move into a smaller apartment. Ethan extended an offer to stay with him for a while until she finds a place (with the subtext of forever), even saying she could have the second bedroom since it’s been practically hers anyway. But Ode diplomatically declined; they’ve only been together for five months and she’s still so fearful that they’re going to fuck this up somehow. They’ve only just started having sex. So she gets herself her first solo place with one bedroom in the same neighborhood near the hospital. 

They move in together when her 16 month lease is up. By then there wasn’t a doubt in her mind anymore. She loved her little third floor walk up and the independence that came with it, but nothing could beat the views at Ethan’s place, and it’s always felt a little bit like home.

So Ethan’s 40th happens before they get together. And true to form he doesn’t want to do a damn thing. But “40 is practically mid life crisis territory and he’s due for a breakdown” (as Jackie put it). So Ode, Sienna and Kyra work together to plan the most elaborate single person party. Because Ethan is such a devout patron of the arts, BOH (after much southern belle pitching from o and k) agree to perform an abridged version of Ethan’s favorite opera at their small rehearsal theatre. Sienna makes a majority of the dinner, all Ethan’s proclaimed favorites for meal, cocktail and dessert. Ode is on getting him to actually turn up. He knows she’s planning something and wants no part of it but goes along because this is “payback for my birthday”. He’s absolutely confused as to why they’re driving out of Boston.

In the atrium is set up as a cocktail hour with a handful of Ethan’s close friends and his dad - the people who want to celebrate him. 40 minutes later the people clear out and it’s just Ode and Ethan (siennas waiting on standby to drive ode home) making their way into the performance area where there’s dinner and dessert under a klosh at a single solitary table. Ethan’s speechless As ode explains the scene they’ve walked into. He sits, she pours him a drink, says happy birthday as the music of the show starts to play and goes to leave.

“You’re not staying?”

“You said you wanted to be alone.”

“Alone and at home. Not alone watching ten people perform.”

She shoots him a look and Ethan stands to look for a second chair.

“Siennas waiting to drive me home.”

“Tell her to join. It’s the least I can do since she made much too much food for one human.”

The three of them have a lovely evening. And if Ethan wasn’t fully cognizant of the fact he loves her, he sure as hell is now. Who else would do this? For him???

The most special gift Ode’s gotten from Ethan is the keyboard. Figuring out her feelings and falling for Ethan was a great inspiration to get her to start writing again. Much to some of her roommates dissatisfaction when the girl forgot to plug headphones in at stupid o’clock.

His most prized gift actually wasn’t something she’s gotten him - over the years she’s given him make shift things, ties and cufflinks, books but nothing as special as what her dad gave him when they visited him for the first time as a couple. It was a small photo album of ode from her teen years and through college. He didn’t even recognize her in a few - sitting on a table in ripped skinny jeans with wild hair and a guitar on her lap. She’s looking at the camera out of the corner of her eyes - singing something with mouth wide open and corners turned in a smile. There’s a spark in her eyes he recognizes but the one he knows it miles duller. He likes this side of her. Wonders what happened. And wants to make her feel like that happy go lucky girl every day for the rest of forever.

Ethan loves her compassion and level-headedness when it matters, and ofc that she has so many skills and talents he keeps uncovering. Wants to spend the rest of his life finding out about. He also really loves the creases at the corner of her eyes. She won’t agree they’re crows feet - she’s much too young for that atm. But he loves them because they make her eyes all the more expressive.

Ode loves his intelligence but also his gentleness. Once you get past that coarse, jaded Ramsey front he’s such a soft bean. She likes how they can talk for hours or just sit in companionable silence. There’s no expectations that need to be fulfilled with him outside of work and it’s the healthiest relationship she’s been in.

They both hate how stubborn the other can be. He hates how she leaves teabags all over the kitchen when the garbage is right there. She hates how anal he is about cleanliness and clutter. But how he can’t seem to get all his socks in the hamper - there’s always some hiding around back.

No, they don’t always work together. Ode is on the DT for another year before getting a research opportunity to write about the most interesting cases they’ve come across, alongside Ethan. He declined the title credit, but helped with the research. She dedicated her first book to him.

The more recognition she started to get in the medical world press, the more people uncovered her musical past. It was a bit jarring to have to talk about that small part of her life when she gave a keynote on new technologies in diagnostics medicine for the digital age. So much so that she got a call from her publishing house and SESAC. Basically to push her to do a one-off gig and see if she’s interested in remastering and a couple synch and derivative deals. Her first response was ‘i’m really busy and it’s been over a decade’. But after aimlessly wandering around their apartment and eventually sitting down to play, fighting a war within her, Ethan pushes her to do it. 

She certainly surpasses Ethan in the medical world, but not for the reasons he’s known for. She ends up marrying her love of music with medicine and becomes a viral sensation. A new-age doctor for the on-demand generations. 

No, I don’t think he does make up with Louise. not really. Ethan’s cordial but doesn’t want anything else to do with her. He doesn’t became a brat when Alan brings her up, though. He respects his dad enough - with the help of Ode - to pretend to be a three-piece family. Ode actually told Ethan that it probably isn’t a good idea that he brings her to rehab - she suggested scheduling a therapy session at the rehab to try and work things through when everyone’s minds have had time to settle. Ethan told her he’d rather rip the band-aid off so they drive her together.

Louise is skeptical - she doesn’t like the idea of someone influencing her son. Yeah, the girl is pretty but who tf is she? Alan says Ethan’s been single and no chance of dating as he’s much too restless for that. Months after being released from rehab and sticking around the Providence-area, Louise tries to get back in contact. She has a job and she’s been clean ever sense. She and Alan talk every now and then but no chance of repairing the family. Louise is there for lunch when Ode and E drive up for the weekend. It’s a whole rush of emotions for E again, and Ode is oddly hopeful, wanting to make the best of the situation. Louise sees the way the ramsey men look at her and she has no choice but to get on board.

as always, thank you for these. I love them and you so so much ♥️

[hopetofantasy]

Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E2

Zaterdag 10:21

That’s character: In this scene, they’re again establishing some of Robbe’s insecurities. We already know from previous seasons that he often feels like the third wheel, keeps to himself, lets people walk all over him or apologizes a lot, so that they don’t hate him or abandon him (like his dad did). But this scene takes it even further: he doesn’t want to be a burden. Not with stuff like his friend’s party mess, so he cleans up as early and fast as he can. Not with taking food that doesn’t belong to him, so he chooses to not eat anything instead. 

Perfect parallel: Zo�� mentioning “Especially the pasta” in this season, because Milan stole her pasta at the beginning of hers.

Surprise bitch, guess who? Milan’s one-nightstand appears to be ‘Georgy Chtchevaev’, a close friend of Jonathan Michiels (Viktor) and other cast members. Small, small world.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe’s expression at the end reveals how he longs for something like Milan has, but then realizes he might never have/want that. (Internalized homophobia is a bitch, y’all!)

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The guy pulls out strawberry yoghurt from ‘Colruyt’ out of an almost empty fridge along with a spoon, from the cutlery drawer. Robbe’s gaze keeps lingering a tad too long on the half naked boy in their kitchen.

°

Zaterdag 14:43

C is for culture: 

“Hey, I’m working here” - Teens are allowed to get a student job, as long as they’re at least 15 years old and completed the first two years of high school. The rules around how often they may work, has changed a lot during the last decade. However, nowadays, they’re allowed to work at a lower social security tariff as long as they don’t go over 475 working hours per year. Otherwise, they’ll have to pay the normal amount or even taxes if they surpass a certain income limit.

“No, I was just shopping” - C&A (Clemens & August Brenninkmeijer) is a Dutch chain store of origin with approx. 1,500 stores in Europe. They mostly attract older generations, as their style is seen as a bit old-fashioned and classic. That’s why their popularity significantly dropped in recent years, causing closures in some cities. - A smart move of putting product placement in a youth tv series.

Perfect parallel: 

Robbe pulling a t-shirt off the rack to get Noor’s attention in this episode, him using the same tactic with a sweater in the last episode.

Noor sitting on a reluctant Robbe’s lap to kiss him here, Robbe happily straddling Sander to kiss and talk later on.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe again faking that he likes Noor’s sexual advances.

Lost in translation: Robbe’s mom texting him “Ziet ge mij niet graag?”, which could literally be interpreted as “Don’t you want to see me?”, but in this context it actually means “Don’t you love me anymore?”.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: In case you didn’t catch it, Robbe is making a double joke with the t-shirt - saying that Noor is sexy as well as repeating the song on the store radio. Jana’s look at a disheveled Noor reveals that she knew Robbe wasn’t just ‘trying something on’.

Bonus: This season uses a lot of mirrors to reflect Robbe’s emotions and inner turmoil. Even his relationships with Noor and Sander are mirrored within the season itself: he never liked what Noor did for him (waiting outside the school, making out in public, going next level) and he was amazed at Sander doing the same. Mirrors are the perfect way of showing how Robbe has two faces: his ‘straight’ public persona and his struggling inner ‘gay’ self.

°

Zondag 19:59

That’s character: Zoë’s mom behavior is at full force here. When she spots her friends, roommates or boyfriend in difficult situations, she jumps to the opportunity to make them feel better. She instantly defends them, provides a shoulder to cry on, gives advice, feeds them when needed, tries to figure out what they’re feeling, ... Sometimes giving some tough loving too. Zoë just has that caring nature of her own. This probably stems from the fact that she missed out on parental figures and wants to feel needed as a compensation.

Perfect parallel:

Symbolism! Robbe walking away from his mom’s room in a cold-looking hallway, because he’s not comfortable (yet) with the situation. And him walking towards Sander’s room in a warmly lit hallway, since he’s at peace with what’s happening with his love.

Zoë asking Milan if he’s “Playing hard to get?” in this situation, Milan asking Robbe if his clothes say “Hard to get or playing hard to get?” later.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe analyses what Milan is doing with his partner, not really sure how to feel about it.

Nod to the OG: Zoë stating “The only thing you can do now is just be there for her and yes, that you have to wait”, sounds oddly familiar to the minute-for-minute speech by Sonja.

Funny coincidence: Milan making out heavily with his boy in front of Robbe and his salad, might look like a nod to the ‘Right in front of my salad’ meme.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Robbe’s other (thicker) coat is hanging on a hook in the hallway. Senne’s “If I had have known that, I would have tried harder” indicates that he probably had to retake a year in high school, because otherwise he’d been a student in uni earlier on. 

°

Maandag 16:27

C is for culture: “Kwak en Boemel kwamen binnen” (= “Kwak and Boemel entered”) - Robbe is referring to two side characters in the Belgian comic books ‘Jommeke’, who are homeless, lowlife criminals. The main protagonist in the series is the 11-year-old boy ‘Jommeke’. He is clever, honest, brave, loves adventure and is recognizable by his distinct blonde bowl cut. It’s one of the best-selling strips in Flanders, besides ‘Suske and Wiske’. 

Perfect parallel: Jens’ first time suggesting toothpaste to jerk off happens here in S3, but he repeats it again during wtFOCKDOWN. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: The boys questioning why Robbe didn’t go all-the-way with Noor yet.

Lost in translation: Noor saying “Is dat een eik? Want ik zie veel eikels hier!” has completely lost its meaning when translated. ‘Eikels’ means ‘acorns’, which come from the ‘eik’ (= ‘oak tree’). But ‘eikels’ also means ‘assholes’. That’s why she’s pointing out the oak tree, to diss the boys that they’re actually ‘eikels’. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Again, the very subtle hint at the beginning that Sander was at the skatepark - checking Robbe out. Robbe pulls the middle finger at the boys hollering. His skateboard has a ‘World Industries’ sticker on it. 

°

Dinsdag 14:56

Perfect parallel: 

Robbe arguing “A whole weekend on a trip with people you don’t know?” against Noor coming along in this episode, his flirty affirmative answer to Sander’s “Like a weekend trip with strangers, right?” in the next.

Amber and her match making skills again! First, she tried to set herself up with Senne in S1, then Jana and Zoë with Max in S2, now Luca with Aaron in S3. 

Lost in translation: “Ik denk niet dat ze daar goesting voor heeft” - ‘Goesting’ is a typical Flemish word for anything that has to do with desire, preference or willingness to do something in any context (work, food, activities, sex, ...). That’s why Aaron answers him with “I had a different impression on Friday”, taking the “I don’t think she has ‘goesting’” in a very sexual way.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: The real reason why he doesn’t want Noor to join the trip, is him not wanting to fake his attraction to her. Except Robbe isn’t willing to admit that to himself yet.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Luca has braces!

°

Woensdag 12:21

Perfect parallel: Noor’s “And then you haven’t even seen the men yet” as a rebuttal to Moyo’s comments about art school girls in this episode, Robbe meeting the beautiful art boy Sander in the next. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe just doesn’t see the appeal in watching women dance, since he’s not attracted to them. But the guys don’t get why he says ‘no’ to the recital.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Noor is greeting Britt with a hug in the background. Moyo kisses the dance recital flyer right before going outside. 

°

Donderdag 07:21

C is for culture: Robbe is making a sandwich with choco spread and speculaas cookies. ‘Speculaas’ (’Biscoff' in English) is a spiced shortcrust biscuit with origins in the Netherlands and Belgium. It’s typically baked for the ‘Sinterklaas’ and Christmas celebrations. Though, it can be eaten as a treat to accompany coffee, thee or ice-cream as well. 

Perfect parallel: 

Zoë saying “I think you’re not used to eating healthy” earlier this episode and Robbe making sweet sandwich at the breakfast table, confirming her statement here.

Milan taking revenge for Zoë on a sleeping Senne in this episode, him helping Robbe prank Moyo for being homophobic in a later one. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Milan’s breakfast is a banana. Senne pulling Zoë into their bed, without her spilling the coffee in her hand.

°

Vrijdag 18:02

Perfect parallel: Luca dissing Moyo’s sexist statements with “Do you actually have a girlfriend? ... I understand why” earlier, her saying “Moyo, then you better take a good look at it, because it will be the last time you’ll see that room” here.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Zoë and Jana hugging each other outside. Luca giving Moyo a clear wink after dissing him. Robbe didn’t expect Noor to sleep with him in the bunkbed, as his face falls when she says she will.

°

Vrijdag 22:04

C is for culture: "It isn’t because he isn’t here...” - The reason that Senne couldn’t join their trip to the seaside, is that he doesn’t have a fall break. Universities usually start their school year a week later than university colleges, so they’re the only ones who don’t have a vacation at the end of October.

Perfect parallel: Robbe looking at drunk Noor with a sad expression of “Why can’t I just love this girl?” in this episode, him looking at a sleepy Sander with a face filled with love in the last episode.

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Robbe trying to pry Noor’s hands away from his body.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Senne responds with “#metoo” as a joke, referencing the movement and him missing Zoë. Her face freezes for a few seconds to indicate that she is indeed jealous. Robbe’s little wink at Luca. 

[scapegrace74-blog]

Don’t Call It Love

A/N  With Saorsa done and dusted, it’s time to return to the Metric Universe.  When we last left Jamie and Claire in October 2017, they were sharing comforting silence and attending a Depeche Mode concert together.  Will things fall easily into place now that they have tripped over the line from being roommates to being friends?   Oh, hell no.  What would be the fun in that? 

All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.

The song by Zero 7 (another guest artist!) that inspired the title is here.

Winter, 2017 - London, England

It happened by accident.  Happenstance.  Serendipity.   Fate.  The words she used to explain the fact that she and Jamie started seeing each other outside of the flat in social circumstances that would typically be characterized as dates varied, but her opinion remained fixed.  They weren’t dates.  Jamie was her roommate, a good friend, a fellow enthusiast of the culturally obscure, and a brilliant pub trivia partner.  They had both agreed that a romantic relationship between them would be disastrous; ergo, there was nothing romantic about their increasingly frequent outings.  If she could memorize the names for the 206 bones in the human skeleton, she could certainly manage to keep her feelings for Jamie inside the tidy box she had built for them.

Non-Date #1

They crossed paths inside the massive Spittalfields Market, both of them with shoulders damp from the chilly November rain.  Jamie was on his way to the fishmonger, while Claire carried a cloth bag filled with late-season vegetables, determined to eat something other than take-out on a rare day off from lectures and the hospital.

“Are ye on yer way back tae the flat, then?” Jamie asked, physically fighting the urge to offer to carry Claire’s wee sack.

“No, I’m off to the charnel house first.”

“The what, now?”  Surely he’d misheard her.

“The charnel house.  Don’t tell me you’ve been living over top of a medieval burial ground all this time without realizing it?” Claire teased.

Intrigued as much by her beguiling smirk as the opportunity to explore a bit of London’s history, Jamie followed Claire to a commercial highrise near the edge of the market.  Descending a non-descript stairwell in Bishop’s Square, they came to a halt in front of a glass wall.  On the other side was an excavated ruin, the crypt of the long-vanished chapel of St. Mary’s Spital hospital, a quick scan of a nearby information plaque informed him.

“They only discovered it was here when construction of the office tower began,” Claire said, a wistful look on her face.  “For centuries, travelers and the victims of London’s many plagues were buried around the hospital, quite literally in the Spital fields.  When the graves overflowed, they brought the excess bones here and stacked them for safe-keeping until the Apocalypse.  Imagine, forgetting something so...fundamental.”

Jamie grunted in acknowledgement, seeing the reflection of Claire’s face superimposed on the glass.  He couldn’t decide if this human tendency towards forgetfulness pleased or disappointed her.

“Tis rather...”

“Macabre?” she suggested with a grin, turning away from the display and climbing back into the cloud-roofed square.

“I was gonna say morbid, but as ye like.”

“We build our present on the bones of our past, my Uncle Lamb used to tell me.  He was referring to archaeology, but I’ve found it to be true of life itself.”

They walked back to the flat, collars raised against the hastening rain.  Jamie had bought enough hake for two, so they shared the narrow worktop, dicing fresh vegetables and letting their shoulders bump together occasionally.

Claire ate at the two-person dining table while scrolling social media on her phone.  Jamie used the coffee table to hold his plate and the gaming magazine he was flipping through.

It wasn’t a date.

Non-Date #4

Her cellphone rang as she was leaving the bathroom, thoughts bouncing between her end-of-semester exams and her non-existent plans for the Christmas holidays.  She accepted the call with one hand while starting the tedious job of separating her soaking curls with the other.  At first there was only static.  She glanced at the screen, recognizing the familiar number.

“Jamie?” she tried.

“...mac na ghalla, Hamish...” followed by muffled noises and masculine jeering.  She switched hands and started to towel off, making certain first that the video call button wasn’t active.

“Hal-lo.  Paging Mr. Fraser.  You have a call on line one.”

“Ach, sorry Claire.  I didna mean tae... That is, the lads were just... How are ye?”

She giggled at his discomposure.  “I’m well, thank you.  And you?”  They had seen each other that morning, as he came off shift and she was leaving for her morning lectures, so she assumed there was more to this call than a polite inquiry into her state of well-being.  She had learned over their months as roommates that sometimes you just needed to wait for Jamie to get to his point.

“Braw, thank ye.  I was... weel, I’m at the park with some o’ the lads, tryin’ tae put t’gether a side, an’ we’re short a winger, an’ I was jus’ thinkin’, ye said ye wanted tae learn tae play an’...”

Another James Fraser quirk was that he rambled in broad Scots when he was nervous.

“Jamie, are you asking me to play rugby with you?”

“Aye.  Aye, I am.  If ye wish, o’ course.”

“I did just step out of the shower...” she mentioned, already peering outside at the threatening sky and mentally assessing her wardrobe for something suitable for a ruck and maul in the rain.  “Hello?” when there was no sound from the other end in some time.

“Aye, I’m here.  Nevermind, Claire.  I dinna consider, ye must be gettin’ ready to study fer yer finals, an’...”

“Where are you?” she interrupted, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of yoga pants.

“Victoria Park?” Jamie replied, sounding hesitant and hopeful.

“Give me twenty minutes.”

“Splendid!”  She could hear his smile down the line.

“I better not get mud in my hair, Fraser,” she retorted before hanging up, her own smile lingering on her face.

There was nothing romantic about rugby.

Non-Date #7

The flat was strangely forlorn, even with Christmas lights twinkling merrily in the living room windows and a tiny fir tree precariously balancing its five ornaments standing in the corner.  

They had exchanged their gifts on December 23rd, sipping on hot chocolate spiked with Kahlua and grinning shyly at each other.  She’d bought Jamie the next Call of Duty game for his XBox.  Nothing intimate, just something he’d mentioned in passing he was looking forward to trying.  His boyish glee upon unwrapping the package warmed her more than her drink.   Hands shaking slightly, she delicately opened the tastefully wrapped rectangle he presented to her.  Inside was a cashmere scarf, luxuriously soft beneath her fingers as she stroked it.

“Is this?” she asked.

“Aye, tis the Fraser plaid.  Ye ken there’s no’ a clan named Bee-cham, right?”

She was deeply touched, and thanked him was a kiss against his scruffy cheek.

Jamie had left for Scotland the next day, having somehow managed to secure a week’s worth of leave from his uncle over the holiday season.   As was her wont, she’d put down for as many shifts as possible while medical school wasn’t in session, but by some fluke she wasn’t scheduled to work New Year’s Eve for the first time in recent memory.

Some of her classmates from nursing college had invited her along to a “raging party in Shoreditch”, but she’d made up some excuse.  The truth was, she wasn’t in the mood for loud music and over-priced drinks with a group of virtual strangers.  If Geillis had been in town, she would have allowed her friend to coerce her into whatever mayhem she had up her sleeve, but Geillis was still in Columbia and eight months’ pregnant with twins, to everyone’s collective shock.  Especially the mother-to-be.

No, what she really wanted was a quiet evening at home, snuggled under her favourite fleece blanket on their couch, the latest Ferrante novel in her lap and a glass of Pinot Noir at the ready.  Jamie had a turntable and a surprisingly well-curated selection of vinyl in his bedroom, but she didn’t like entering his domain without his permission.

Without giving it a second thought, she rang his cell.  It was only upon hearing the raucous sounds of a party in full swing that it occurred to her that just because she was spending New Year’s Eve alone, it didn’t mean Jamie was as well.

“Claire?” he yelled over something that sounded a lot like live music.  “Are ye all right, lass?”

“Oh!  I’m so sorry, Jamie.  I just wanted to ask... never mind.  It’s not important.  Enjoy your party...”

“Wait!” the background noise mutated, sounding like a riot underwater, and then there was a wooden slam.  Jamie huffed a sigh of relief.

“Mu dheireadh.   Are ye still there, Sassenach?”

“Still here,” she confirmed, suddenly feeling sorry for herself.  She might be the most pathetic thirty-year old in London.

“Did the hospital no’ call ye in for a shift, then?”

She tucked the blanket under her feet, warding off the chill that always seemed to creep in from the wall of windows.  The Christmas lights she’d strung reflected against the glazing in alternating colours: blue, red, green, blue, red, green.

“No. By some miracle of the festive season, I have the night off,” she joked halfheartedly.   “I’m sorry for interrupting your night out.  I wanted to ask if I could borrow your turntable and a few of your albums?”

“O’ course.  Ye didna need tae ask.  An’ I’m no’ out.  I’m at home, at Lallybroch.”  He pronounced the word with a guttural flourish that made Claire think of an exotic kind of pastry or a rare tribal custom.  Any time Jamie spoke of his family’s home in Scotland, he imbued it with an otherworldly quality, like a fortress in a fairy tale, a far away land of warriors and mist.  It was strange to think of him there now, while she sat alone in their flat.

“It sounds like quite the party.”

“Aye.  The Frasers take their Hogmanay celebrations verra seriously.  Ye shoulda come wi’ me.”  Then, as though realizing what he’d said, he added quickly, “We could use a doctor.  Dougal sprained his ankle doin’ a sword dance, and Angus singed his arse somethin’ fierce jumpin’ o’er the bonfire.”

She laughed, her mood suddenly much lighter, and asked for more particulars as to how his cousin’s naked ass came to be in close proximity to open flame.  Without either realizing it, the last minutes of 2017 crept by.

Fireworks erupted outside, followed by the tolling of bells and honking of horns.  On the other end of the call, she could hear cheering and an off-key rendition of Auld Lang Syne.  They were both silent, embarrassed to have been so caught up in their trivial conversation as to have missed the arrival of midnight.

“Happy Hogmanay, Sassenach,” Jamie’s voice came soft and sure over the line.

“Happy New Year, Jamie,” she replied.  “I should really let you get back to your party.   Your family must be wondering where you’ve disappeared to.”

He hummed noncommittally.  It occurred to her that had they been in the same place, they would likely be kissing right now.  It sent a shiver of want down her spine.

“Jamie?”  Her voice sounded thready, like she had just woken from a deep sleep.

“Hmmm?”  Shivers, again.

“What’s a Sassenach?”

He laughed softly, and she had to bite her lip.  What was the matter with her?  “Tis a Scottish word for a foreigner, particularly an English one,” he explained.

“You’ve never called me that before,” Claire remarked.

“I’ve ne’er spoken tae ye while on Scottish soil.  T’wasn’t an accurate description ‘til now.”

There was a long silence.  She could hear the sound of revelry through the door of whatever room at Lallybroch he’d hidden inside.  Outside the flat there were firecrackers.   They reminded her of mortar rounds heard from a distance in Afghanistan.

“You don’t like fireworks, do you?” she guessed.  It didn’t take an advanced degree in psychology to know that bright flashes and sudden pops of sound would trigger his PTSD.  They really were a mess, the pair of them.

“Nay.  Jenny an’ Ian’s bairns love them, an’ I told them no’ tae hold off on my account, but they insisted on a bonfire instead.  It reminds me o’ when I was a lad, a’fore ye could buy fireworks along wi’ yer ham at the local Tesco.”

Jamie launched into a long account of the significance of bonfires in Highland culture, and she let herself drift on the melody of his voice, the turntable long forgotten.

“Tell me about yer most memorable New Year’s,” he prompted after his cultural diatribe wound down.

“Oh, well, they all rather blur together, actually.  Too much drink, too much spent on the cover charge.  You know how it is.”

“Nah, I mean when ye were younger.  Ye must ‘ave celebrated in some remarkable places.”

She thought back to her time spent following Uncle Lamb around the globe.  Truth be told, traditional holidays weren’t something that stood out in her memory.  They felt like a foreign custom, a series of drawings taken from a picture book that showed a mother, father and children crowded around a loaded table while snow piled up outside.  They bore no relation to her reality.  It was no wonder Christmas and New Year’s left her feeling ambivalent.

Still, she didn’t want Jamie to feel sorry for her, so she launched into one of her favourite tales.

“One year, I must have been eleven, Lamb was leading an excavation of a Berber oasis town in northern Mali.  The site closed down for the Christian holidays, but Lamb decided to stay behind rather than travel back to England.  We ended up riding camels through these enormous sand dunes, following a local guide on an ancient caravan route.  On December 31st, just as the sun was setting and we had begun to make camp, the camel Lamb had been riding let out this infernal noise, leapt to its feet, and started to gallop away.  Lamb and the guide set off after it on foot, hollering and waving their keffiyeh in the air.  It was the funniest thing.”

“They left ye all alone in the desert?” Jamie asked, horrified.

“Oh, well, they came back eventually.  The camel had been stung by a scorpion, you see.  Once it got over the fright, they were able to catch it and bring it back to camp.”

“Were ye no’ scared, tae be out there in the dark by yerself?”

“No.  Not as I remember it.  The sunset was glorious, and little by little the sky came alive with a million stars.”

“Ye brave wee thing.”  Jamie sighed.  “I wish I was there wi’ ye.”

She didn’t know if he meant with her on that sand dune, or with her at their flat.  Either way, her answer was the same.

“I wish you were too.”

They finally hung up well past two o’clock.  It didn’t count as a date if the other person was five hundred miles away as you whispered goodnight.

Non-Date #12

The Royal London was expanding its pediatrics wing, and Claire was invited to a fundraising gala held, fittingly, in the Museum of Childhood.  The invitation included a plus one, and she’d been putting off asking Jamie if he could join her all week.  It wasn’t that she doubted his suitability as an escort.  Far from it.  But the gala was taking place on February 14th, of all nights, and the symbolism made her nervous.  Still, the alternative was spending the night being hit on by a drunken internist or hedge fund investor, and that was a headache she could do without.

“So,” she began casually a few nights before the event, “any plans for Valentine’s Day?”  If he said he was working or had, god forbid, a date, she would just have to go stag.

Jamie set down his gaming controller and turned to face her desk.  The pulsing  colours from the screen lit his curls like a neon nimbus in the dim room.

“Nah, nothin’ definite.  An’ ye, Sassenach?” he asked tentatively, as though easing himself out onto a frozen lake, unsure of the depth of the ice.  The nickname he had assigned to her during his holidays in Scotland had stuck.  She didn’t correct the inaccuracy, as she rather liked the idea of having a name that was only his.

“Well, I’ve been summoned to a fundraising gala for the hospital, and I was wondering... not that you need feel obliged... it’s black tie, which is really the height of pretension, if you ask me... anyway, there’s no way to decline gracefully short of an aneurysm, so...”

“Out wi’ it, Sassenach,” he prodded.

“Mightyouconsiderbeingmydate?” she blurted, before taking a large gulp of tepid tea.

“Yer date?” he asked as though he had never heard of such a thing.

She sighed, resigned to the fact he was going to make this difficult.  “Yes.  My date.  My plus one.  My social companion.  And hopefully, my defence against spending the evening being pitied and set up with someone’s second cousin, Nigel, the chartered accountant.”

“Do ye have somethin’ against accountants, then?”  The corner of his lip was twitching with the birth of a grin.

“Oh, very funny, you bloody Scot.  Look, I need a date on Valentine’s Day and you are the only man in the Greater London Area who won’t interpret that as an opportunity for a pity shag.   The offer is on the table.  Take it or leave it.”

Something flashed behind his eyes that she couldn’t interpret.  Then it was gone.

“Ne’er fear, Sassenach.  I’ll protect ye from all the wee Nigels.”

***

She’d forgotten to ask whether Jamie had suitable attire for a black tie event.   It was too late now, regardless.  They were meeting at the museum, since she was on shift until eight.  Using the nurses on-call room to get changed, she slinked into her burgundy chiffon gown, its gauzy layers wrapping around her like millefeuille.   Her hair was a lost cause, so she slicked it back into a tight bun at the nape of her neck and hoped for the best.  Silver chandelier earrings and a dab of cologne below her jaw, and she was ready to go.  She carried a small beaded clutch and her dress shoes - there was no way she was navigating the Tube in stilettos. 

The museum was a single massive space, conversation and the tympani of glassware echoing against its high-arched ceiling.  She stood in the entryway after checking her coat, spinning in circles and trying to get her bearings.  More than one lascivious glance was directed her way, but she studiously ignored them in favour of looking for Jamie.  With his height and red hair, he shouldn’t be hard to pick out of the crowd.

There was an appreciative murmur from behind her, a gust of fresh air, and then a soft tap against her bare shoulder.  She turned around.

No.  Not hard to pick out from a crowd at all.  Standing before her was James Fraser in full Highland regalia.  He wore his family tartan, a black velvet waistcoat, brilliant white dress shirt and a black bow tie.  When her gaze fell to the floor, she noticed his polished brogues and white socks pulled up to his knees.  She’d never before considered how a man’s knees might be alluring, but there it was.   Jamie had very sexy knees.

“G’d evening, Sassenach.  Ye look... weel, ye look bonnie.”  Jamie’s normally deep voice was gruffer than usual, perhaps on account of the cold night air.  Or maybe his bowtie was tied too tight.

“Good evening, Jamie,” she replied once she found her voice.  “You look, well, if you were a Jacobite, I’d say you looked regal.”

The tops of Jamie’s ears went red, and he ducked his chin, his tamed curls falling briefly forward.  It gave him the look of a bashful child receiving unexpected praise, completely at odds with the strikingly masculine figure he cut.

“No’ a Nigel, then?” he teased.

“No.  Definitely not a Nigel.  Come, let’s get something to drink before all the top-shelf liquor runs out.  You wouldn’t believe how much some of these doctors can put away!”

Jamie was a perfect date.  He stood by her elbow as she mingled and greeted various colleagues and professors, nodding at their tales of medical misfortune and smiling at their awkward jokes.  He spoke confidently about his work and current affairs, and patiently tolerated endless jibes about what a true Scotsman wore beneath his kilt.

When she politely excused them from one such conversation, he leaned over to whisper in her ear as they walked away to fortify themselves with more alcohol.

“I’ve a mind tae lift my plaid an’ moon the entire assembly the next time one o’ yer wee doctor friends asks about my underthings.  Are ye sure they arena raising funds for a new proctology department, Sassenach?”

She snorted in a truly unladylike fashion and turned to meet his unrepentant smirk.  Just then, a figure approaching from the bar caught her eye.

Oh no.  It couldn’t be.  After five years, she’d finally relaxed her vigilance, had ceased anticipating his presence at every turn, and now, here he was.

“Sassenach?” Jamie was watching her with concern.  The blush had drained from her cheeks, leaving her wine-stained lips and sintering eyes the only colour on her face.

“Claire!  Fancy meeting you here!”  Had his voice always been so nasal?  His eyes so glassy and vacant, like portals into nothingness.  He’d obviously been drinking heavily.  A blond woman half his age had her arm linked through his.

“Frank,” she uttered his name.  Jamie stepped into her side, his posture erect, somehow sensing that she needed his protection from this unheralded threat.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise.  I’d heard you’d gone into the army, or some such thing.  Afghanistan, was it?  Well, with your penchant for violence, I suppose that’s fitting.”

She breathed deeply through her nose.  She would not let him get the better of her.  She wasn’t that person anymore.  With a clammy hand, she grabbed onto Jamie’s fingers where they rested around her hip.  He squeezed back.  He was here.   She wasn’t alone.  It was all the strength she needed.

“Yes, that’s right.  I served overseas for a time, but I’m back in London now.  In medical school.   Now, if you’ll excuse us, we were just leaving.”

Focusing on each step, she turned towards the exit, Jamie’s hand now warm upon the small of her back.  Her chin wobbled, but she bit down hard to stave off tears.

“A doctor?” Frank taunted from behind her.  “Wouldn’t a demolition expert be more apropos, darling?”

She froze, spine trembling with anger.  Jamie made a questioning noise, asking without words if she wanted him to intervene.   She didn’t.

Glancing over her shoulder, she dealt her parting blow.

“Give my best to Amelia and the children.”  Without waiting to witness the aftermath of her pronouncement, she made her way out into the chilly night air, Jamie’s bulk a silent sentinel at her side.

It wasn’t a date if it ended on the floor of your bathroom, crying ugly sobs as mascara stained your cheeks, while your partner held your shoulders and made soothing noises with his throat.  

That wasn’t dating, that was survival.

***

mac na ghalla = son of a bitch

Mu dheireadh = finally

[imagining-supernatural]

The Work Call

Part 18 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary:  You call your boss to get some work to do in your free time and do a little flirting ;)

Word Count: 2,258

With Sebastian off in Georgia for a week, you felt like a teenager whose parents just left her home for alone for the first time. Suddenly, you could break all of the rules. Not that your rule-breaking was something that would get you in too much trouble…

Since the press seemed to have gotten it through their heads that you were off limits, you finally had your privacy and space back again. As a result, you were taking advantage of the last few weeks of autumn before the snow came. After your hospital appointments, you walked down the street to a cute little café and sat in one of the over-sized, plush chairs for a bit. You’d either bring a book or your laptop.

On Wednesday, the café cat apparently decided you were okay and hopped up into your lap, purring loudly as you read. You’d snapped a quick selfie and sent it off to Sebastian.

Me: [image attached] Don’t be surprised if you come home this weekend and I’ve catnapped ol’ Misty here

Sebastian: What if I’m allergic to cats?

Me: Sucks to be you, I guess

Me: The apartment’s lonely without you

You stared at the last text you’d sent, suddenly overthinking it. Sure, you were married. And, sure, you were wearing his ring now. But you two hadn’t really discussed what that meant, exactly. So was that last text too strong? Too forward?

Hell, you didn’t even know what you’d meant by it.

Sebastian: Don’t know how I feel about being able to be replaced by a cat

Sebastian: Maybe I need to up my game

Up his game?

Shit, it had been so long since you’d flirted with anyone. So long since you’d even considered a relationship. After your hellish life growing up, you’d put all of your focus into school. You were determined to set yourself up for a better life than the one you were born into. Then you graduated and worked hard to secure your place at your job. School only taught you so much, and you needed to be able to apply what you learned to real life.

Once you felt secure in your professional life and you were finally ready to start exploring a relationship, you found out you had cancer.

So to say you were woefully underprepared for this situation would be the understatement of the year.

Me: Luckily for you, I like Jenny’s coffee so much that I don’t want her to hate me for stealing her cat

Sebastian: You still thought a cat would replace me

Sebastian: That hurts, sweetheart

Sweetheart. In writing. 

Me: I’ll find some way to make you feel better this weekend

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Why did you never read over your texts before you sent them?

At least you hadn’t put a winky face emoji. Now that would have been a disaster.

Not that you didn’t want your relationship with Sebastian to keep going. You did. But there was a lot more pressure riding on this than there was back in high school when you went to the prom with Brad Trayton, or in college when you slept with the guy from your Chemistry 101 lab three times before having to break it off with him because he always smelled like bacon.

This was Sebastian Fucking Stan. And you were married to the guy. And you were in a literal life or death situation. If things went badly with him, that would make the rest of your cancer treatment very awkward, to say the least.

Sebastian: I’m sure you will…

Sebastian: I gotta go to a script reading rn. Skype tonight?

Me: Of course

You’d been Skyping with Seb at least twice a day since he left on Sunday night. It was almost like he never left, in that regard.

But with him gone, you found that you had a lot of free time on your hands. With your body starting to get used to the cancer treatment, you also had a bit more energy and nowhere to put that energy to good use.

So you called your old boss back home, dialing his direct extension to avoid getting his assistant. The press might have backed off, but thanks to the updates from Jasmin, people who knew you were still reeling over your marriage.

“Plathway.”

“Hey, Brendon, it’s Y/N.”

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, and you could just imagine him leaning back in his chair. Brendon Plathway was your mentor and had grown into a close friend. Of everyone in your life, you would say he was the closest thing to a good father figure you had. “How are you doing? I’ve seen your name on Facebook a few times.”

“I’m doing pretty good, all things considered. I’m in a clinical study in New York and the doctors are optimistic that it’ll work. They’re hoping I’ll get the tumor out sometime in February.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” Brendon said. “And that husband of yours… he treating you well?”

“It’s not… it’s not quite like that. But yeah. He’s great.” It was a pretty decent segue into the reason for your call. “He’s actually out of town, shooting for a TV show. So I have a bit of time on my hands and was hoping—”

“Y/N Y/L/N?”

The unfamiliar voice interrupted you before you could finish. You looked up to see a guy about your age with a newsboy bag, notebook, and tape recorder.

A fucking journalist.

“I thought it was you. You mind if I ask you a few questions?” He didn’t say it like a question, nor did he give you time to respond before he sat on a stool beside you and set up shop on the small table. “If I could write an article on you, it would just—”

“I’m actually on a phone call right now.”

“Oh, I won’t take too long. I just can’t pass up this opportunity. You’re quite the enigma. No one’s gotten your side of the story.”

“And neither will you. I’m not going to answer any questions.”

He completely ignored you, flicked on the recorder, and put his pen to paper. “People have been saying that you planned your rendezvous with Sebastian Stan in Vegas. What do you say to that?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have no comment for you.”

“I thought you’d appreciate the chance to get your story out there. There are some nasty rumors spreading—”

You cut him off before he could continue. “I know my story and the people I care about know my story. I will not be answering any questions for you today.”

“Do you feel no guilt for being the reason Sebastian Stan’s reputation has taken a massive hit?”

“I’m going to give you one more chance to leave me the fuck alone before I call the cops.” He opened his mouth, but you spoke over him, voice lowering to a red-hot hiss. “And if you write a single word of this conversation or make any sort of insinuations that I said anything at all, I will slap you and whatever blog or magazine you work for with a libel lawsuit. Don’t even think about trying to manipulate your recording because you’re not the only one who has been recording this conversation. The phone call you interrupted was with my boss and it’s company policy to record all incoming and outgoing phone calls. He’s a witness that I repeatedly rejected your attempt to start an interview and anything else you say can be construed as harassment. Have I made myself clear?”

He stared at you, wide eyed. Guess he hadn’t expected a cancer patient to be so blunt. Nevertheless, he gathered his things and stood. Just before walking away, he muttered, “You didn’t have to be such a bitch about it.”

Once he was gone, you groaned. “Sorry about that, Bren.”

“Is that something you have to deal with often? That’s horrible.”

“No. Not since I got sick because stupid reporters were sticking their germy microphones in my face and Seb threatened them with lawyers.”

Brendon hmphed. “Well, you sounded like you had that speech prepared. Sounded like you’d said it a few times.”

“Before he left, Seb made sure I knew how to threaten any reporters like that. Luckily this was the first time I’ve had to remember what he told me.” The reporter had shaken you, and it took a few deep breaths before you felt calm enough to continue with your conversation. “Anyway, back to my original reason for calling… Are there are projects I could jump on long distance? I’ll probably only be able to put in about ten to fifteen good hours of work a week, but it’d be nice to have something to do other than wait for new episodes of my shows to come on Hulu.”

“Let me poke around the office a bit. I know there’s a big one coming up next week. Rachel’s heading that one. You’ve worked with her before right? She’d probably appreciate your input. Trent is in the middle of one for a pharmaceutical company, but he’s not feeling too sure about it. I’ll see if he wants you to try and hack the system and find holes.”

“Anything. I’ve worked with both of them before and I think we work well together. I did quite a few initial proposals before I left for Vegas and I enjoyed those more than most people do.”

He promised he’d send any projects your way that he could. After a few more minutes of catching up, you ended the call and headed outside to wait for Sean in the chilly fall air.

“How was the reading?” you asked later that night. “Any juicy plot lines?”

“Not that I can tell you,” Seb replied. The phone in his hand shifted as he settled further into the hotel bed that Marvel was putting him up in. “But it was good. We’ll start shooting tomorrow.”

“Excited to lube up your arm?”

He laughed, head falling back against the headboard. “I take it you finally did some research on me?”

“A little. The hospital was running behind today, so I was there a bit longer than I planned and I fell down the YouTube abyss of interviews. Anthony seems like a fun guy to work with.”

Sebastian grinned. “He is. Speaking of work, did you call your boss?”

“Yeah.” The reminder of the phone call – or rather of the interruption – made your roll your eyes.

“Didn’t go well?”

“No, no. It did.” You knew your news was not going to go over well with Seb, so you took a minute to get settled into the bed. It had been a long day and laying down felt good. You turned your laptop on its side so your face would still be the right way on Seb’s phone. “Brendon’s gonna check around work and find some projects and work to throw my way. That’s all good.”

“Then what is it?”

With a deep sigh, you began. “While I was on the phone with him, some hipster reporter dude interrupted.”

“Son of a—”

“It took a minute to get it through his thick skull that I was not going to give him a story but he finally left. It just kinda took a bit out of me.”

“God, Y/N. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it’s not,” you agreed softly. “But you prepared me. I handled it. Then Sean made me eat dinner with him and his wife. She’s an amazing cook. Sometime when you’re home, they want to have both of us over. And when this is all over, we definitely need to think of a hell of a way to thank him for everything. He’s done so much more than a driver gets paid to.”

The two of you brainstormed for a bit about how to repay Sean for his kindness and friendship. Then your conversation moved on to different subjects, bouncing around for a bit until you yawned for the third time in five minutes.

“You seem more tired than usual. You doing okay?”

“I’m fine. I mean, I haven’t been sleeping well, but that’s your fault.”

“My fault?” he asked.

“Yeah. You made me sleep next to you for two weeks then you just up and leave me alone. It’s rude, Mr. Stan.”

Something in your words sparked something in his eyes that filled you with… excitement?

“Well, Mrs. Stan…” His words were accompanied by a wink that stopped your heart. Forget your brain tumor. Sebastian was going to be the source of your death. “You only have two more nights before I’m home for the weekend.”

Flirting? Were you flirting?

“Two nights with you and five nights without you is just not a fraction I like.”

My god, you were flirting.

“If you can convince Marvel to move their studios to New York, I’m all game. Until then, we’ll have to make the best of those two nights.”

“Make the best of them, hmm?”

“Yeah,” he said in a low voice. “Mackie’s commentary on The Voice isn’t as good as yours. I’ve been waiting to watch the new episodes until I’m with you.”

The unexpected twist made you laugh out loud. It didn’t escape your attention how his eyes crinkled at the sound, affection flooding his expression. “The Voice on Friday and Dancing With The Stars on Saturday?”

“I’ll pen it in my calendar, sweetheart.”

“Ooo. I’m pen-worthy. That’s so much better than pencil-worthy.”

“You’re white-out-worthy, baby. I’d white-out plans I have with someone else to pen in plans with you.”

Fucking hell. Baby was a new one.

If he’d put on half this much charm on you in Vegas when you were drunk, it was no wonder you’d married him.

“Then I guess I need to go erase the pencil plans I had for Saturday evening and make room for you. Maybe even buy a special pen just for you.”

“Maybe wait for tomorrow? You’ve had a long day. Seems like you need a good night’s rest.”

“You too, hun.” The pet name felt foreign on your tongue, but it somehow felt… right? “Shooting starts tomorrow. You need to be ready to keep up with Mackie’s energy.”

“He wants to meet’cha, you know. Apparently I haven’t shut up about you.’

“Gimme a few more weeks to get used to this treatment and maybe I can spend more than three seconds around him without needing a nap,” you joked. “Unless he only has that energy when there’s a camera on him…?”

Seb laughed. “That is him all the damn time.”

“Then I better let you go for the night. You’ve spent the last few weeks shlumping around with me. Gotta get your rest to keep up with him tomorrow.”

“And you gotta get your rest so you can hand out candy tomorrow.”

“I’m excited for that, actually. Trick or Treating really slowed down back in Utah lately. I think last year I got, like, maybe three groups of kids?”

“You’ll get your fill this year. A lot of the kids in the apartment complex go to every door. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you getting sick.”

It took twenty more minutes before you were finally able to say your goodbyes and hang up. You stared at your phone for a moment before placing it on the side table beside Sebastian’s bed and turning off the light.  

Houston, we've got some flirting!!! Also can we just take a minute to appreciate how amazing Sean is? But things seem to be looking up!

CHAPTER 19: THE LONG DAY

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Top 5 relationships in The Mortal Instruments

Lets be real the shadowhunter chronicles has grown into a huge world world with more characters than could ever all stay in one in any one institute (and remember institutes are for some reason designed to accommodate the same number as nice hotels) and because so many of them interact we have had some pretty cool characters and some pretty great relationships. I thought I would make ranking lists ranking the my personal favorites for members of family as well relationships in each series. IMPORTANT: When I say “relationships” I am not being specific to any one type of relationship (romantic/family/friend). I just mean two characters who share a type of bond.

Since The Mortal Instruments or TMI, came out first I will start with it. 5 relationships in TMI who have really well done dynamic’s and I want to take this opportunity to spotlight them below

5.) Jace & Church

Aww Church, he was doing the grumpy cat act before it was cool. Everybody loves Church. Church loves Jem and likes exactly one person per series/generation. In TMI the one person Church likes is Jace. Now other instances you could argue that Church liking Jace is just another attempt of CC to enforce that Jace (mr. blond hair, gold eyes, gold skin, takes a bath in golden spaghetti) is the golden boy and everybody should like him. But once you look at who Jace and Church are as characters (what character Jace has that's not referenced by his aforementioned coloring) them being buddies makes a lot of sense. For one thing we know from the falcon story that Jace is fond of animals that have adittutes, which Church certainly does. The first time he made friends with such an animal Valentine... But Valentine is gone when Jace meets Church, and none of the Lightwoods mind if Jace wants to goof off with the cat (to them that’s probably one of the least reckless things Jace likes to do). So for Jace Church is in essence a way to reclaim part of his childhood that Valentine tried to twist and corrupt.

On the other side I love how respectful Jace is of Church’s boundaries. Guys Church has a past as extensive and hard as any other character in TSC. HE has been both a pet and a wild cat many times over, he ha been treated well by some humans, and horribly by others. This is no purring kitty-cat that is going  to just climb into someones lap wanting hands run through his fur or to be picked up and carried around. No Church doesn’t like that. Jace understands this, and never tries to force Church to let him handle him. IF Church wants Jace to touch him he will take the initiative and walk up to Jace’s leg. If not Jace is perfectly happy to hang out in a room or follow the cat at a distance, pretending to chat with him. I saw a post that said that even after Church got reunited with Jem (churches OTH) Church still considers Jace his buddy and they hang out during visits, that is precious.

4.) Alec and Magnus aka Malec

Aww Here they are, fandom darlings and CC’s poster couple for LGBT+ inclusion. I promise that is not why I put them on this list. I actually never give characters or couples brownie points for being same sex or anything like that because so many writers try to get away with making “Gay” a characters whole personalty or squeezing in characters for the sole purpose of saying “look inclusion, look I can be woke” and then they don’t consider it necessary to put the level of characterization they would into a straight character in. I do like inclusion and feel it is important, but only when it is fully developed to the best of a creators abilities.

Now I will admit here that Malec are only my second favorite romantic couple in TMI. That being said I do really like them. I like the pace that their relationship develops at. When other couples did the whole love at first sight or suddenly inexplicably in love. Malec moved at what I consider a pretty realistic pace and you could easily follow their journey. In book 1 they met at a party and decided the other was pretty cute, started to spend time together on occasions, started to like each other, then started to really like each other. It’s  not until  the very end of book 6 where you fee like the two are really committed to the whole “Okay it’s you and me till the end” idea, and you are glad to finally see them there.

That brings me to my second reason for liking Malec. They are a hot mess, as all three main couples are, but unlike with the other two Malec never pretended to be anything other than a hot mess. If I compared Malec to Clace i would say that Clace follow a pretty typical fairy tale formula: I met you and I loved you, then the evils in the world conspired to keep us apart, but I fought my way back to you and now we can live happily ever after. Malec aren’t like a fairy tale though. They are that high-school/early college couple who are consistently on and off. The rocks in their path aren’t “evil forces” it’s just them. Just the fact that they both have a tendency to be whinny, stupid, jealous, controlling, a!@#$”s to each other. Honestly if they didn’t care so much about each other, then they would be a really toxic couple. But they do care a lot about each other. They hated when they were always fighting. They hated seeing each other so sad. But they couldn’t just forget about their problems or pretend them away. So many times throughout TMI Malec would find themselves at a cross road where on one path they force themselves to change and see if that made their relationship better , and another path were they decide that it is just to much to and call it quits. They broke up twice because they got to times where it was just to much to keep going the way they were and neither were ready to change. But then they couldn’t stop thinking about the other or missing the other. So, when they met up again they would always reconcile and be ready to put in the work to change their relationship for the better.  Looks like those changes worked out given that years down the line we see then happy, married with two kids, happy at their jobs, hosting social gathering with their friends as apposed to before when they would always spend then picking at each other or having an outright fight.

Malec are not perfect, TMI never pretends they are. They are both a lot to deal with and at least a few times one of them will slam their hands down on some surface, and I as a reader found myself wishing I could bring my hands down on the pair of thems heads. But I consider Malec a pretty gritty look at what any couple can be like at their lows, as well as the highs they can reach if they are willing to put in the time and work, and exactly why some are willing.

3.) Maia and Bat

What? What was that? If Malec are only my second favorite couple in TMI then who is my favorite? Oh, it’s Baia. Baia is like literally the perfect couple. They met years ago became best friends, tried dating and went back to being best friends when Maia-who had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and was still recovering- told Bat that was all she could handle. Their friendship is shown in the background throughout books 2-5 and we see that they always have each others backs. We see Bat is always their for Maia, always trying to take her out as a friend and convince her to have fun. Maia supports Bat’s DJ career and talks about how much she admires him for perusing such a normal mundane life because (regardless of the fact that they aren’t normal mundanes) its what he wants. Their relationship is brought to more of a focus in book 6 when shadowhunters leave, demons attack and their fellow downworlder start staging uprisings. Both of these two are still so young, and now (with their Alpha away indefinitely) their whole world is falling apart. Fixing this isn’t their job, no one has tasked them with it, but its the only way to keep themselves, each other, and everything they love safe. SO they make the choice to take action. Like everything in their lives since they met, they make a point to always support each other. Bat challenges an aggressive wolf for control of the pack because he has sen this wolf go bully those close to Luke and is determined to protect Maia. When Bat goes down in the fight Maia tags herself in and fights to protect him. When Maia wins she wakes up Bat isn’t upset or embarrassed that she had to save him, He immediately throws support to her as his Alpha. One of Maia’s first act is to make Bat her Beta because they are a team and their is no one she trusts more. They rebuild their pack and the Predator Lupis together, and also get back together. But that is less important because no matter what their relationship they have always and will always be there. 

Seriously when every other couple acted stupid, was over dramatic, were never sure where they stood with each other; Maia and Bat were true friends, true love, and unwavering in their support. So what keeps them from being number 1 on this list? Well were still a background relatonship for most of TMI (a lot of the fandom either didn’t remember or didn’t care that they got together at the end or that they were even friends). Also knowing CC and general media aimed at TMI’s age group I have to unfortunately believe that if CC had wanted to bring more focus onto Maia and Bat,then she would have made them way more dramatic and less awesomely supportive. Moving on

2.) Valentine and Luke

I can hear the gasps from here. No, not read that wrong, it really says Valentine and Luke. How could I talk just get praising a supportive pair only to go and talk about a pair that betrayed and tried to annihilate the other? Well for one thing I will remind you Valentine and Luke whole dynamic is friends to enemies. As that they really work. Luke never had what it takes to be a shadowhunter on his own. He says himself that he couldn’t bear easy marks, he couldn’t do simple training exercises, he was miserable and ready to just drop out and give up. Then Valentine “came into my room and offered to train me”.  Even in the future Luke says that in their first interactions that Valentine saved him. That he is the one who made Luke into a shadowhunter. Well truth be told Valentine made Luke more of an assistant Shadowhunter, to him, but it is still farther than Luke was getting on his own, and its completely genuine when he says he loved and worshiped Valentine. You see why he was so blind to what Valentine (Stop trying to pretend you were always in the right Lucian) what both of them were becoming. Valentine gave Luke a life as a shadowhunter, and then he took it away. Valentine thought he was covering himself, that he was getting rid of a doubtful ally before he had a chance to become an enemy.

Getting Luke turned into a werewolf was easily the biggest mistake of Valentine’s life. Shadowhunter Luke was never able to do anymore than listen to Valentines orders and carry them out with no thought but how much doing so would please Valentine (Shadowhunter Luke= Valentines pet lap dog.) Werewolf Luke could say no. He could fight Valentine to a stand still at least, beat him at best. Werewolf Luke had knowledge and insight as to the needs of both Downworlders and Shadowhunters, and used that knowledge paired with Valentine’s impediment threats to rally the downworlders and get them to force the clave to give up 4 seats on the council. Because of Luke Valentines war caused Downworlders to get more rights instead of less. (Shadowhunter Luke=Valentines pet lap dog. Werewolf Luke= has more brains and skill than Valentine) Valentine thought he was getting rid of a potential threat when he had Luke turned; instead he gave his strongest supporter the push needed to break away from him, and the motivation to take become the man who had enough power to foil all his plans. That their is Irony at its finest my friends. I love it.

And Now 1.) Jace and Simon

This is hands down the best relationship in TMI and should I ever make a top 5 relationships This one will definitely be in it. How can they not when they are literary the TSC equivalent of Batman and Superman. (I mean that quite literally by the way. Jace is Batman: A hero who lived a life of pain and loss and used that as a motivation to protect people and prevent harm. Simon is Superman: A hero who wasn’t born into this world, these people weren’t always his people, but he decided that this was his home now and he was going to make it a better place.) There are so many things I love about these two I love how well their relationship was paced in how as they got to know each other more they transitioned from enemies to rivals to friends to family. I love their banter. these two together make me laugh more than any other pair. The number one thing I love about Jace and Simon is how careful CC was to keep them standing on Equal ground.

I meant they weren’t equal when it came to who had Clary’s affections. No Jace won that battle the moment Clary ditched simon, who was in the process of asking her out, to go find out who Jace was and what he was doing at the club. But lets look at virtually every other factor. Both are young men only 16 who have suffered the loss of a loved one before and are fiercely loyal and protective of the ones they have left. Neither are always sure who they can trust. In book 1 Jace is introduced s having vanquished more demons than anyone else in their age group, Before the end of Book 1 Simon is revealed to be skilled in archery and uses that skill to vanquish an incredibly dangerous Greater Demon. In book 2 Simon dies then is brought back from the dead to rise again, Jace does the same, through admittingly different methods, one book later. Jace is from a powerful race of hunters (shadowhunters), lets make Simon a member of a another powerful race of hunters (vampires and then Shadowhunters). Oh it looks like Jace has extra gifts his blood is special. Jace gives Simon his blood and Simon now has extra gifts to. Both of them have been hunted over their gifts, both have tried to help and protect the other. Jace giving Simon that Blood was a huge sacrifice and then he sacrificed for him again by admitting what he did to Valentine, knowing it will anger Valentine and could cause him to lose love for Jace. So in the second half of the series Simon starts Sacrificing for Jace. He gives up not only the mark of Chain which protected him from harm, but also a beloved memory connecting him to his own late father. Jace showed Simon a lot of the Shadoworld, and Simon returned that by teaching Jace aspects of mundane life. He told him pop culture references, let him stay with him in his apartment, taught him to play video games, and even took him grocery shopping. (Ask me why Jace seems more human when he is with Simon yet more like a fantasy man with Clary)

After reading Tales From The Shadowhunting Academy I will say that Jace was the ONLY one of the TMI gang who deserved to get Simon back. He is the only one who ever seemed to think about how Simon must be feeling or made any effort to be there for him. Alec and Magnus ignored Simon and acted like they didn’t care that he was back, while Isabelle and Clary were both incredibly selfish and only seemed to think of themselves. They actually had the audacity to blame Simon for not remembering them, and make him feel more like crap for not being able to just walk back into a life they knew he couldn’t remember, knowing that he sacrificed his memories to save THEIR lives. Clary Isabelle I am so disappointed in you ladies. Jace you are doing great.

Ending this to anyone wondering if at this point if I ship Jimon; Yes. I think they would have made an awesome couple. I also think they are awesome as friends and brothers in law. Any way you slice it Jimon is top tear writing

This has been my top 5 TMI relationships. I will do a TID top 5 when I either learn how to make these smaller, or have the time to do one this long again. Heads up it will probably be the second one.

[lyssismagical]

diamonds are forever, but i’ve got something better

Parkner Febufluff Day 27 & 28 - Teasing & First Date

Read on AO3

*

Peter was a little bit too excited.

Ever since he found out about Tony meeting a genius kid in Tennessee years prior, Peter tracked him down and started talking to him over texts and social media. They got really close despite having never met, similar in age and in IQ, in life stories and in knowing Tony, it was easy to make conversation.

And now, Harley’s official flying up to New York to take Peter on a date, to meet for the first time since they started talking nearly a year and a half earlier, since Peter was fifteen.

Tony knows about it, knows way too much from Peter’s rambling conversations and occasionally screenshotting texts from Harley and sending them to Tony. They were always really cute, playfully flirting on each other’s social media, and it took over the media quicker than anybody could anticipate.

Peter was well known as The Intern, the quirky kid who somehow worked as Tony Stark’s personal intern at fifteen years old, now seventeen, easily winning the public’s affection with his silly tweets and his endearing personality, not to mention the pictures he took of Tony being a good person, just to prove it.

But when Harley started showing up in all Peter’s tweets and Instagram comments and even on his Snapchat story, the public started showing Harley some unwelcome attention until Tony made the public statement that he did know Harley.

And now, the media is obsessed with Harley and Peter.

“You’re not, you know, worried about your relationship being exploited like this?” Tony had asked when both Peter and Harley’s follower count had skyrocketed.

Peter had grinned, already working on a Tweet directed at Harley, “Course not. They only get to see the things we want them to see. Plus, it’s fun.”

And now, Harley and Peter are finally meeting after eighteen months of only talking online.

“Could you relax?” Tony says, lifting his eyebrows as Peter’s leg bounces under the lab bench and his fingers tap incessantly on the table. “You’re making me nervous.”

Peter looks up from his homework, corners of his eyes crinkling as he lights up in a smile. “I’m just so excited! We’re actually finally meeting! The closest thing we’ve done so far is photoshop us into pictures together.”

Tony rolls his eyes fondly, shaking his head. “He hasn’t even boarded the plane yet, kid, just relax. He’ll be here late.”

“I know, I’m just too excited! I barely slept last night-” Peter’s voice is cut off by his ringing phone. “It’s Harley! I gotta take this!”

Tony rolls his eyes again, turning back to his own work.

“Hey, I’m at the airport,” Harley says with barely contained elation. “I’ve still got a bit before boarding, but I wanted to call you before I left.”

“I’m so excited!” Peter says for probably the thousandth time, voice lifting high and happy.

Peter can practically hear Harley’s smile. “Me too. I should’ve found an excuse to fly up sooner, but between college applications and extra credits and the job I’m working… Yeah, it’s just been kinda crazy.”

Harley works with his mom at the diner now that his little sister is old enough to stay home alone. It helps to bring in the extra cash, especially with Harley in his last year of high school.

“Yeah, of course, and I’m sorry I couldn’t fly down and see you, just between Spider-Man and school…” Peter doesn’t say that he’s scared of planes, but Harley already knows that.

“No worries, we have the next two weeks to spend together and make up for lost time, darling. And if I get into MIT, I’ll be just a few hours’ drive away,” Harley says, smile in his voice. “I’ll be able to see you every weekend.”

Peter grins, fingers tapping on the tabletop. “That sounds wonderful and I’m going to apply to MIT too. Maybe I can see if Tony’ll pull some strings and get us a dorm together.”

Tony turns around from his project, eyes lighting up. “You’re applying to MIT?”

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Peter nods. “It’s my dream school and Harley’s going in the fall.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll pull some strings. I’ll pull all the strings, kiddo.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. He brings the phone back up to his ear, listening to Harley’s quiet laugh.

“That’s a yes, then?”

Peter laughs. “Yeah, that’s a yes from Tony, I think instead of the shovel talk, he’s going to end up offering to pay your tuition or something, maybe write you a letter of recommendation.”

Tony flips him off over his shoulder but doesn’t bother denying it.

“Oh shoot, boarding’s started,” Harley mumbles, some strange mix of disappointed and excited. Disappointed because he doesn’t want to stop talking to Peter, but excited because he’ll be seeing Peter soon.

“Okay, well I’ll see you in four hours then?”

Harley makes a noise, something like a squeal of excitement, muffled by a cough like he doesn’t want to admit how excited he is. “Four hours, Parker. I’ll get a taxi at the airport and meet you at the tower, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” Peter says. “Be safe.”

Harley’s voice softens, “Of course. Bye, darling.”

“Bye, Harley.”

As soon as Peter sets down his phone, Tony turns around again, not even bothering to hide his obvious eavesdropping. “You wanna work on stuff or are you going to panic clean the whole tower?”

Peter laughs, standing up and stretching his shoulders. “I’m going to go patrolling because I don’t think I’ll be out much for the next two weeks.”

Tony smiles but he looks serious when he ruffles Peter’s hair. “I know Harley’s a good kid, but I still want you to be careful, alright? You’re my kid and I’ll give him hell if he hurts you.”

“He won’t, Mister Stark,” Peter says. “Plus, nothing could be worse than nearly getting killed by my homecoming date’s dad. I think that will forever stay on top of the worst dates list.”

Tony pulls Peter in for a quick hug before letting him go, calling out to be safe on patrol.

* Harley arrives to the tower, suitcase and duffel dragging behind him, just past four hours later, a little bit of traffic slowing him down from making it on time.

He makes it into the lobby, taking in the huge space and all of the eyes turning towards him when he hears the familiar voice.

“Harley!”

He turns, dropping his suitcase and duffel when he sees the mess of curly brown hair racing towards him. He catches Peter who throws himself into Harley’s awaiting arms, nearly knocking Harley over.

Peter, in his arms, for real, for the first time since they became friends eighteen months prior, feels right, like this is exactly where they’re supposed to be. Peter’s warm and smaller than Harley, smelling like expensive soap and motor oil, and so fucking beautiful in person.

He’s seen hundreds of pictures of Peter, facetimed him more times than he can count, but this is different. Peter’s real and touchable and in his arms.

He wants to say something smart, something meaningful because this moment is meaningful, but his brain blanks, caught up in only Peter.

“Darling,” is all Harley manages, kind of high and strained like he’s trying not to cry, maybe he is trying not to cry, and when Peter laughs wetly from where he’s hidden his face against Harley’s chest, Harley figures he’s not the only one.

“I can’t believe this,” Peter says, pulling away just enough to look at Harley properly. His fingers brush along Harley’s cheekbones, cradling his face like he’s made of glass. “You’re so- God.”

“I’m god, am I?” Harley teases, smile threatening to break his face in two. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this much pure joy.

Peter laughs, the same carefree laugh Harley’s been hearing through the phone for so long, and presses a kiss to Harley’s cheek, intertwining their fingers.

“I just never knew you had freckles,” Peter says, voice soft and careful and when Harley meets his gaze, Peter’s bambi-brown eyes are teary and his lip wobbles dangerously close to crying.

Later, photos will spread across the internet of the two of them standing in the lobby of the tower, hanging onto each other and crying and murmuring the softest of words, looking at each other with only one thing in their eyes, pure love.

For now, it’s just the two of them.

* Eventually, Peter shows Harley to his room, a few doors down from Peter’s, and around the rest of the penthouse, even down to the lab while Tony’s away at a meeting for Pepper.

Harley lights up when they reach the huge kitchen, way bigger than necessary, and spotless considering Tony can’t cook and Peter’s been banned from the kitchen since he started a fire a few months back.

“I just had takeout planned, but if you wanna cook, be my guest,” Peter says, hopping up to sit on the counters, feet dangling. “I think Tony keeps it pretty stocked.”

Since he works at a diner with his mom, he’s picked up cooking and he found out he really enjoys it. So he hops on the opportunity to cook in Tony Stark’s kitchen, and starts rifling through the pantry and fridge.

Peter keeps up the conversation, despite it being mostly one-sided as Harley cooks, but he doesn’t seem to mind, enjoying watching Harley cook. It’s so much better than watching the snapchats of Harley’s cooking.

When Harley presents homemade pasta, nearly an hour and a half later, Peter swears he could marry the boy right then and there.

“I swear you’re good at everything you do,” Peter says, not even hesitating to curl up against Harley’s side on the couch, tucking his feet up under him. “You could decide to become, I don’t know, a dancer, and it would work out for you.”

“Says the literal superhero,” Harley replies, balancing his plate on his lap to wrap an arm around Peter.

Peter rolls his eyes, tucking in closer. “You wanna watch Star Wars?”

It’s a strange first date, that’s for sure. Cooking together and then watching Star Wars, it’s not the expensive, overly romantic first date that a lot of people chase, but it’s homey and it’s nice. It’s them.

When Tony gets back, prepared to give Harley the talk about not hurting Peter, or maybe to offer to pay for his tuition, he isn’t really sure what his plan was, he finds Harley careful dragging a blanket from the back of the couch over Peter who’s fallen asleep, head tucked against Harley’s chest.

“Hey, kid,” Tony says, helping Harley spread the blanket to make sure Peter’s feet are covered.

“Hi. Long time no see,” Harley whispers, careful not to wake Peter. His hand comes up to brace the back of Peter’s head, making sure he doesn’t slip as he shifts.

Tony offers a smile, taking the plates from the coffee table to clean up. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d pay for your tuition or if you want a dorm room with Peter when he gets in or if you want a letter of recommendation. As long as you’re good to my kid, I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Harley murmurs. He presses a kiss to the crown of Peter’s head. “And you don’t have to worry about him, it would be stupid of me to ever let this go. Thanks again for the flight.”

“No problem, as I said, I’m here for whatever you boys need, just… Don’t hurt him, alright? The world’s let him down too many times and I don’t need you to add to the collection. He- He’s too good of a kid… But don’t worry about me. If there’s anybody you need to worry about giving you the shovel talk, you should worry about May.”

Harley’s eyes widen a little bit, but he doesn’t seem too shaken. “I’m not going to hurt him.”

“Good. Now, get some sleep. If you spent last night like Peter did, bouncing off the walls with excitement, I’m sure you’re tired.”

Tony smiles at them one last time before he heads off, leaving Harley to press another kiss to Peter’s head, letting his eyelids droop shut, filled to the very brim with love and acceptance.

{I know I’m a month late, but I’ve officially finished Febufluff!!}

[carrotmakar]

Could you write something with Harry based off of Mine by Taylor Swift? Thank You Babes!

Mine

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 2,163

Summary: Harry’s the best thing that’s ever been yours.

Warning(s): Mentions of divorce, mom being unsupportive, some arguing, fluffiness, Harry being a literally perfect boyfriend, I think that’s it

A/N: I’ve never done a piece based on a song, so I hope it’s good. I don’t know how I feel about it but I hope everyone enjoys it.

Masterlist

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Request anything you want here but be sure to read my guidelines first!

*

You were in college, working part-time, waiting tables Left a small town, never looked back

He had just been a small town boy, working in a bakery to make some extra money. He’d sing in his free time, not really thinking anything of it. 

He came home one day to his mom telling him that he had an audition for the biggest singing competition show in the UK. 

He didn’t know going in that it would get him out of his town, propelling him to stardom after the show, sending him on tours around the world with the boys that would be his brothers for years to come.

I was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin' Wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

You grew up in a home where love wasn’t all that present. Your parents divorced when you were younger, neither of them remarrying. You were taught that the most unreliable thing in life was love. It was something that was unstable. Something that fell apart way too often for it to be relied upon.

I say, "Can you believe it?" As we're lyin' on the couch

As you’re laying on the couch, your head in Harry’s lap, you look up at him and ask, “I can’t believe we made it here, can you?” 

He looks at you for a moment before responding, making sure that his thoughts are thoroughly put together before speaking. “Yeah, I can. I saw you and knew that you’d be my forever.”

The moment, I can see it Yes, yes, I can see it now

You smile up at him, thinking that maybe your mom was wrong to an extent. Yeah, love was unreliable, but Harry wasn’t. Harry was a constant that you were glad to say you had in your life. One that you hoped would be there forever.

He was what made love worth it, what made everything about the uncertainty worth the risk.

Do you remember, we were sittin', there by the water? You put your arm around me for the first time

Your mind drifts back to the first time that he ever took you out, you had gone to a cafe, had a nice dinner (which he refused to let you pay for), and then went to sit down by the lake in your small town.

You remember thinking to yourself that the whole thing was insane. He was in a world famous boy band and you were a nobody. The only reason that he was even in your hometown was because he was there for a tour stop. 

You had only agreed to go out with him because you thought you’d never see him again, never have to be dragged into the hectic lifestyle that comes along with being around Harry Styles.

Oh, were you wrong.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

Ever since your dad had left, you had sworn that you were never going to leave your home, stay close to your mom so that you could take care of her if she ever needed it.

One date with Harry changed your whole outlook on that. Made you realize that there were bigger things than that.

And one conversation with your mom let you know that she had more than enough saved to take care of herself, and that if you really wanted to go be on your own, then she would fully support you.

Of course, at the time you left out one very important detail. You didn’t tell her that you wanted to go out and be with Harry, not leave to be on your own. But you didn’t think she needed to know that. She would have told you to stay, told you that he wasn’t trustworthy, that he would break your heart just like your dad had done to her. And honestly, you didn’t want to hear the speech again.

So, you packed your bags and you went on tour with him when he asked if you wanted to come. You made the split decision to be with him no matter what, because he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and you were lucky to get to call him yours, so you weren’t going to let him go that easily.

Flash forward, and we're takin' on the world together And there's a drawer of my things at your place

The first time that you had been able to stay in one place for more than a few days came around six months after you had left. The boys were allowed to go home for a couple weeks, chill out, record some new music while staying put.

You hadn't unpacked your stuff since the day that you took it from your mom’s house, so when Harry had offered to let you use the washer and dryer that was now yours as well, you jumped at the opportunity.

When you came back into the room that you could now call yours, he had cleared out half of the drawers and half of the closet so that you could put your stuff up where you needed.

In that moment, you realized that this was real. That he was yours and you were his.

You learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded You say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

He found out why you were so hesitant to leave with him a week or so into being home, when he had asked about when you wanted to see your parents and you had avoided the question, tears automatically popping up in your eyes.

Their divorce wasn’t something you liked to think about. Your dad wasn’t someone you ever talked to, much less talked about (unless it was with your mom), and you were still guilt ridden from not telling your mom about Harry.

He had wrapped you up in his arms, letting you cry until you were ready to talk about it, telling him everything. 

He holds you close the entire time, letting you ramble as he soaks up everything that you say.

He then walks you to bed, pulling you in with him and holding you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering, “We won’t end up like them. We won’t repeat their mistakes. I promise you, love, we’ll be different.”

With that, your body relaxes enough into his so that you can both fall asleep.

And we got bills to pay We got nothin' figured out

There were times in your relationship when there were things that went wrong, obviously. Every relationship has its issues. But yours weren’t like everyone else’s problems. The bills that you had to worry about weren’t electric and water. 

You had to pay for hotel bills and plane rides and a bunch of other expenses that come with touring the world with him.

There were times when the two of you would fight over it, you being upset and wanting to just stay home so that he didn’t have to pay for anything. So that you could get a job and help pay for some of the things around the house.

He refused, which ended up just making you feel like you were no help to him. It made you feel like you were a bad girlfriend, making Harry pay for everything when you couldn’t even help him out in the slightest.

He sat down with you, though, explained that you were worth more to him than anything else. He didn’t care if you had a job or not, he was lucky enough to not have to worry about you having a job. He’d rather have you on the road with him, having the time of your life, than having to work a nine to five job that you didn’t even really need.

When it was hard to take Yes, yes This is what I thought about

Sometimes, the thoughts would still bother you, so you’d always think back to that day on the lake, the day that started it all, and suddenly, your mood would be a lot better.

Do you remember, we were sittin' there, by the water? You put your arm around me, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

It always was when you thought about the simple things with him.

Do you remember all the city lights on the water? You saw me start to believe, for the first time You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

That night, without even knowing it, Harry had made you believe in love. Had made you believe that maybe love was reliable. That maybe you could depend on him. Maybe you could be happily in love with him.

And I remember that fight, two-thirty a.m. 'Cause everything was slipping right out of our hands I ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street

The two of you had been in Japan with the band, yet another tour stop on the infinite list. You had started an argument over the fact that you were never at home, even though you’d much rather be with him. Besides, you knew his schedule.

Thinking back on it, you have no clue why you even said anything, you had no problem with being on the road with him. You were just being dramatic. It was late, you were tired, and he was the person that was there for you to take your agitation out on.

Your tiny argument had turned into a screaming match, and it had ended with you telling him you were done.

You had left the hotel, walking in the dead of night in a city you had never been to before, and to top it off, you didn’t even speak the language.

He had followed you though, running right out after you, catching up to you and grabbing your arm. He had spun you around to face him and the look on his face made your heart break into a thousand pieces.

Braced myself for the goodbye, 'Cause that's all I've ever known

He looked upset, so much so that you thought he was going to tell you to come get your stuff and then leave. Tell you he’d get you a plane back to your hometown in the morning. 

You were ready for him to pull the plug on you, to tell you that he didn’t love you anymore.

You were prepared for him to prove your mother right.

Then, you took me by surprise You said, "I'll never leave you alone"

He did the exact opposite though, he proved your mother wrong, yet again.

“Come back up, I’m sorry.” He had said, pulling you with him.

He had led you back up to the hotel room, tucking you into bed with him and promising to never leave.

He assured you that night that he loved you, that he never wanted to lose you, and that as soon as the tour was over, he would request a few weeks off.

You let him know that it wasn’t necessary, that you were just overreacting, but he vowed to do so anyway, telling you that he’d rather take a break from touring than lose you forever.

You said, "I remember how we felt, sitting by the water. And every time I look at you, it's like the first time. I fell in love with a careless man's careful daughter. She is the best thing that's ever been mine."

He told you that night before you fell asleep that when things got bad, he thought of the same thing that you did. The same exact memory. Your first ever date. The day that changed his life forever.

You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter You are the best thing, that's ever been mine

You realized that night, that no matter what happened, you’d do anything for him. You’d tour with him until you were gray and old if that’s what made him happy. Because he was what made you happy.

Do you believe it? We're gonna make it now And I can see it

You knew for a fact that you and Harry were going to make it when he stood in front of you, telling you that he’d care for you always, and never, ever let the two of you end up like your parents. You believed him so strongly that you didn’t hesitate to look him in the eyes and say “I do.” 

So, now, here you were, your head in his lap, his hand running through your hair, singing you to sleep.

You knew, without a doubt, that as long as you had Harry, you’d be alright. 

*

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @akila-stilinski @babebenhardy @write-from-the-heart, @slytherinambitious, @miraclesoflove @tomshufflepuff, @quaksonhehe, @a-different-brand-of-beans

Harry Styles Taglist: @alwayshave-faith, @hufflepuff-always-and-forever, @sucker-09 @just-chillin-out-in-me-box, @macksmedicine, @wendaiii, @theresthingsthatwellneverknow,

[amaskontwofaces]

I’m literally tearing up looking at healthcare plans here.

I’m being hired on full time at a company that I was originally contracted out to, and it feels like I’m suddenly entering an entirely different society. It’s the difference between lower class and middle class America.

My pay itself isn’t changing a significant amount, but the benefits and security and even just the way this information is being presented to me is universes apart.

I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that I can actually plan things more than a month in advance, because I now know that I’ll still have this job come November and December. I was taking things a month at a time, a week at a time; practically since I graduated in 2019 I’ve felt like nothing was certain in my life. In a way, I think this is why everything shutting down when the pandemic hit didn’t affect me much; I was already living in a state where everything felt temporary, and my circumstances could change and change fast. The simple fact of having a job I can depend on to support me is absolutely crazy.

Then, there’s the benefits. The contracting company I originally worked for had some “benefits”, but they were presented in a confusing manner that made me feel dumb for not knowing what these things all were and how they worked. I felt like I was a cog in a machine that they were legally mandated to provide the barest of insurance and breaks for, and they really only cared for my health insomuch that I would be able to continue working for them. They technically provided health insurance, but without an out-of-pocket max, could you really even consider it such? It was essentially a health care discount that you paid into ahead of time. What percentage of a procedure would they cover? Who knows! ‘Cause I sure didn’t.

I ended up turning to open market healthcare. I got myself a moderate plan that cost $220 a month with a $7,000 out-of-pocket max. This company that I’m being hired into? The most premium plan is $130 a month with a $2,000 max. The cheapest is $30 a month with a $6,000 max. That takes my healthcare costs from nearly 3 *days* worth of wages each month to the equivalent of somewhere between 2 and 9 *hours*.

Their benefits document is also put together in a way that makes me feel like they genuinely care about my health and well-being. They went out of their way to have a page just defining key terms like ‘copay’ and ‘pre-authorization’. They have web services to help me choose the right insurance plan for my needs. They have dental and vision and a 401(k) and a whole slew of other things like discounts on tax software.

Discounts on tax software. It’s utterly frivolous to be concerned about how much your employees are paying for good tax software, and yet they are.

But look at me. My job hasn’t changed. Where I’m working hasn’t changed. Who I’m working for technically hasn’t changed, and yet who employs me has made the world of a difference.

My access to health care? My ability to save for my future? My ability to *plan* for a future? Those were things I had to fight for the last two years, and without the help and advice of my parents, I probably wouldn’t have had health insurance at all for the last several months; or — worse — I wouldn’t have realized that the company offering me health insurance without an out-of-pocket max was screwing me over.

And yet, suddenly being employed by someone else, I’m offered all these things on a platter with a manual on how to use them.

Our system is designed to keep people from the bottom of the economy on the bottom, with uncertain employment, a lack of options, and a lack of information and resources. It’s really hard to save up money for a better future, to even spare the thought process for what a better future might *be* or how to get there, unless you know someone on the other side to offer you perspective on how you *should* be treated and how to get that treatment. To truly be able to make anything more with yourself than you already are, an opportunity practically needs to fall into your lap, either through luck or privilege. And let’s just say that as a white, college-educated individual who grew up with supportive, middle-class parents, and through all this didn’t have rent or student loans to worry about, it wasn’t luck that gave me this change of circumstances.

We need to change this. Service industry workers, contractors, and gig workers are consistently screwed over. Medical expenses are the number one cause of debt in our economy.

Unionize.

Provide Universal Health Care.