#i just know taylor has a resting dead-inside-face

[junebugtwin]

various Taylors that I was sketching- playing around with letting more of my sketchy rough lines show in my work. I can't draw a straight and smooth line to save my life, and my hands constantly shake even when I'm not drawing. I could probably use a stabilizer but I don't like the way it feels lol

[dawnoftime22]

in the dead of night.

| T.S

Warnings: None!

Summary: You have a nightmare in the middle of the night, but Taylor was there to comfort you.

Word Count: 740

Category: Fluff

| Started on 24/09/2023, 6:28 AM |

| Finished on 26/09/2023, 9:32 AM |

Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

"No matter the time,

I will be here for you. Always."

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

And it was six in the morning, again.

In a free day.

You couldn't go to sleep even if you tried, and you wouldn't, because you don't wanna have that nightmare again. You've had it twice now, having woken up at four am earlier in the night, and another came to haunt you.

As you were curled up like a ball on your side, you turn your head around a bit to see a sleeping taylor. She was facing you fortunately. She looked so peaceful, you didn't wanna wake her.

And especially because she's been working so hard, these couple of days, she's barely gotten any rest. If it wasn't a free day, you knew she'd wake up in an hour. But it was, so you would have to wait longer for her to wake up.

And so, with biting the inside of your mouth, you slowly and almost quietly shuffled yourself closer to her. You went as close as you can, your bodies basically touching, and went to seek comfort by nuzzling your nose on her neck, leaving your head to rest between her shoulder and her neck.

Her head shifted a bit and her arms went up to hold you in an embrace. She was tickly, but she wasn't really a light sleeper. You supposed something alerted her brain to wake up. You. Her eyes open just barely, to see you in her arms.

She moved her lips closer to your head, to kiss the top of your head, before her voice came out huskily, but quietly. "You okay, baby?"

There was a beat of silence that came with her question. But it went on as you took the decision to tell her, and when you did, you shook your head.

When she didn't say anything back, you glance up at her to see her eyes closed. But it wasn't long before she opened them back up, this time wider than she had before. She wasn't falling back asleep, only resting her eyes until it was ready to open more while you were contemplating your decision.

Taylor had already felt your movement. You'd guess she was trying to find what to say, and when she did, it made you feel relieved. She didn't care if she felt sleepy. All that mattered was you.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" at this point, enough questions has been asked for her to know what you need.

You shook your head once more, the nightmare still flashing in your memories. You had already released a flow of tears before waking her up, but now its all coming back again.

She feels tears seeping through her shirt, and that's when she fully wakes up, shifting her body to hug you properly. "Oh, baby," her voice came out softly. Your hold on her was as if she would disappear in the matter of an instant.

She leans down to kiss your shoulder, while her hand rubs your back to reassure you. "I'm here, I've got you."

Once you've calmed down, she leans back a little to look at you.

"You're safe with me." her hands go up to the side of your cheeks, her thumb wiping away the now small tears, before she went in for a soft, gentle kiss.

Her forehead rested upon yours once she pulled away, the both of you having your eyes closed.

"I love you. And thank you." your voice comes out, small, and weakly, but the love was present within it. Your eyes opening once more, along with hers.

She leaned in to rub her nose softly against yours, and you giggled.

"I love you too, baby. Always wake me up when you get a nightmare, okay?" she replies back, with just the same amount of love, if not, more. You nod at her, so grateful for someone like her.

Her lips turned up, and yours did too. The both of you continue gazing into each other's eyes while the sun started rising in the background. The window gleaming.

Her phone started ringing, but she only moved her eyes and her hand, blindly searching for her phone just to silence it.

You were slightly confused, but to her it was a free day, meaning she didn't want to take any phone calls at the moment unless it was important. And her top priority right now, is you.

"You hungry?"

"Yeah."

"Waffles?"

------------

taglist <3 - join here! :]

@dmenby3100 @wandsmxmff

[siampie]

Risk and Reward||Chapter 6: I Think He Knows

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Tension rises between you and Matt. That’s it. That’s the chapter. Also, teasing Matt and Reader.

Warnings/tags: No smut but mentions of sex, angst, fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: Don’t kill me for this, please. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.  

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @abbyhaslongshorts, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705

@ebathory997,

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

He got my heartbeat

Skipping down 16th avenue

Got that, ah, I mean

Wanna see what’s under that attitude, like

I want you, bless my soul

And I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

I think he knows

You stood outside with Amelia as she was smoking. It wasn’t as chill as it was a few months ago.

“Crazy thought.” You started; Amelia hummed as she glanced back at you. “Would it be crazy if I just grab a handful of Matt’s ass?”

“The hell?” Amelia looked at you, mouth agape.

“Would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t be crazy for you to put your hands on your boyfriend. In that way.” Amelia said slowly. “And really, that's your crazy thought?”

“You’re right, I chose the less crazy one.” You said seriously. “Do you want the real crazy one?”

“Hit me.” Amelia nodded.

“So, I was watching the Walking Dead last night. It was the Terminus arc and I was wondering—would you be willing to eat people in an apocalypse if it meant survival?”

Amelia let out a big exhale, smoke flowing in the air, she turned to you with a deadpan look on her face. “Yep, that’s on brand.”

“So?”

“I’ll do you one better.” She laced her arm with yours as she led you back inside the bar. “Would it be considered cannibalism if you took a bite out of your boyfriend’s ass?”

“Kinky, maybe.” You giggled.

“You thought about it, didn’t you?”

“I’m thinking about it, now.”

You both giggled as you made your way back to your group of friends. You took your seat next to Matt. A boyish grin lighting up his face, he pulled your chair closer to his, before wounding his arm around your waist.

Things had been going well between you and Matt. It has been a month since you officially became a couple. Between lunch and coffee dates, you and Matt spent as much time as possible together, you were practically joined at the hip. Both of you couldn’t get enough of each other.

The giddiness and the butterflies never seemed to leave you. And they only seemed to amplify each and every single time you saw him. You couldn’t read his mind but you hoped he felt the same way. You hoped you had the same effect on him as he had on you.

His calloused hand had found its place on your thigh as the evening went on. His thumb brushed on the inside of your thigh, making it hard for you to focus on the current conversation. Heat pooled at your core. You took in a shaky breath and you saw a cheeky grin bloomed on his face.

“What are you doing?” You leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Nothing.” He answered, faking innocence. His hand moved a little further up.

“Matt,” you said his name in warning.

“What is it I’m doing, sweetheart?”

“Careful, Matthew. Two can play this game.”

“Oh, really?” Matt huffed out a laugh.

You leaned closer, your hand resting high on his thigh. You gave it a light squeeze. “Really.” You smirked, pulling away, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. His fingers flexing against your own thigh.

You stood in the corner next to Marci as the rest of your group were playing pool. Your eyes had inevitably found Matt’s wonderful ass. He was bent over, giving you a clear view. The best so far in the bar. And tried as you may, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from it. Marci bumped into you, bringing you back to the one-sided conversation she’d been having for the past few minutes.

“You’re staring.” She teased you.

You glanced quickly away from him. “No, I’m not.” You took a sip from your beer.

“Liar.” Marci scoffed. “There’s no harm in you appreciating your man’s ass.”

Heat gathered to your ears as your eyes made contact with Matt over the pool table. A boyish smile gracing his lips. “Stop. I wasn’t staring. I was—admiring the view.”

Matt’s grin widened at your words as Foggy led him around the table to the cue ball. He leant over the table, jutting his hips out, giving you a better view of his beautiful ass. The gesture gave you pause, though. If you didn’t know any better, you’d thought he would have heard you from across the room. But that couldn’t be. He and Foggy were too far away for them to hear your conversation. Still, it seemed as though he was doing this on purpose.

“I have no doubt about that.” Marci smirked at you.

“Oh, shut up.” You huffed out a laugh.

A game of pool later, Matt was sitting next to you while the rest of you was engage in another game. You were highly aware of his thigh pressed against yours as his fingers kept on brushing back and forth on the back of your neck. You let out a shaky breath, crossing your legs, a feeble attempt to create any kind of friction to ease your heated core.

“You sure you don’t want to play?” Matt questioned playfully.

“I wouldn’t know how.” You replied, shifting in your seat.

“I can teach you.” He offered, turning slightly to face you.

“Maybe another time.”

“Come on, sweetheart, it’s not that hard.” He said in a sultry voice. His left hand came to rest on your knee, his fingers brushing against the back of your knee.

“You’re just looking for an excuse to bent me over the table, aren’t you?” You tried to make yourself sound sexy. As you pronounced those words, you let your fingers run up and down his forearm.

You leaned in and kissed his nose, then his cheek, before pressing the last one on his lips. Your left hand had moved to his thigh, hidden from view, you slowly trailed it higher, inching closer to his crotch. His hand circled around your wrist.

“Careful, sweetheart, don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice huskier than before.

“Who said anything about not finishing?” You shot back.

His hand left your wrist, moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. A boyish grin made its way onto his face, “I like that side of you.”

“You do?”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned in. “I can’t wait to see more of it.” He pressed his mouth against yours.

“That’s enough, you two.” Amelia dropped in the seat next to you. “We get it, okay. You’re horny for each other.”

“Amelia,” you whined, your ears and cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“What?” Amelia shrugged. “I’m only stating facts, am I not?”

Karen sat down next to her, Foggy and Marci joining your small group. “I agree with her.” Marci remarked. “You two are all over each other.”

Your entire face flushed, heat spreading through it. Now, you were mortified. Did they have to be so open about it? Sure, you and Matt had been focused on each other all night, but it wasn’t a bad thing, was it? You started to pull away from Matt, his grip on your knee tightened, stopping you from moving too far from him.  

“Alright, guys, I’m calling it a night.” Karen announced as she got up, sliding her arms in her coat.

“Yeah, we’re right behind you.” Foggy nodded.

“Karen, you wanna share a cab?” Amelia suggested.

“Yeah,” Karen shook her head yes.

“Don’t do anything too crazy, kids.” Foggy said as he and Marci started out of the bar, she sent you a quick wave, and a sly wink.

Karen and Amelia both left together waving you goodbye. You and Matt were on the sidewalk as you watched both women get into the cab. Matt’s hand slid in yours, making you turn to face him. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

“I don’t want the night to end just, yet.” He said softly.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked him, in the same tone.

“Well, we could finish that little game you started?” He gave you a cheeky grin;

“I wasn’t the one who started it, if I recall correctly.” You teased back.

He huffed out a laugh. “And if I remember correctly you did talk about finishing it.”

Your face flushed in response, his sultry voice sending shivers down your spine, “how do you propose we do this?” You questioned breathless.

He gazed down at you, his thumb brushing along your jaw. “I have a few ideas.”  The boyish grin morphed into a soft smile. “Would you like to come back to my place?”

You nodded. “I’d like that,” your voice barely above a whisper. He laid a soft kiss on your lips, before pulling away, both of you walking to his place.

It was quiet between you on the way there. You wanted this; you really did but you were also growing nervous. You had some apprehensions regarding physical intimacy with Matt. Physical intimacy, sexual intercourse had been quite a miss for you. You had never really had a good experience when it came to sex. Mostly because most of your sexual experience happened quite late in life, later than most people. It wasn’t that you were a late bloomer. It was more because of a lack of opportunities.

As your father’s primary caretaker, you didn’t have a lot of occasions to go out. And if you did, it would be rubbed in your face for months while he berated you, calling you ungrateful. It didn’t matter that it was the only outing you had in months. He would remind you of this, in every fight, in the months that followed. So, of course, there were not many opportunities for you to date or have sex.

After your brother stepped in and took your father in, you did go out more before moving to Hell’s Kitchen. It wasn’t bad but it wasn’t good either. And since moving to Hell’s Kitchen, you only had a one-night stand, that didn’t exactly go well. You were not even sure that it deserved the name of a one-night stand.

You started to think that since you had never reached orgasm during sex, that maybe something was wrong with you. Maybe, you were broken in some ways. You knew you could get there, after all you were no stranger to masturbation. Still, sexual intercourse didn’t really do it for you so far.

But never stopped you from trying, though.

You stepped into his apartment after him and stood in his entry awkwardly as he shut the door behind you. You had been to his apartment before, but he was never just the two of you. This was the very first time that it was just you and him. You walked into his living room, after him, shedding your coat. He moved into his kitchen as you draped your coat on the arm of his leather couch, the neon sign lighting up the room.

“Do you want to drink anything?”

You dropped your bag next to your feet, “no, not really.”

Breathing had become hard suddenly. You clasped your hands together, in an attempt to calm your nerves. Matt came back with a glass of water, placing it on the coffee table. He took off his red tinted shades and left them on the table, giving a clear view of his eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight.” Matt said softly.

“I know, it’s just—” You let out a shaky breath, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I want this,” you shifted, angling yourself to face him. Your knee bumped into his.

You wanted to tell him the truth, be honest. Let him know that although you were by no means a virgin, you had not had a lot of experiences when it came to sex. Matt was a handsome man and you were sure that he had been with a lot of women before.

“There hasn’t been anyone in a while, anyone that mattered.” He admitted quietly, his calloused hand reached for your knee, squeezing it gently. “Truth is, I’m nervous too.”

You placed your hand over his, turning his palm up so you could place your hand in his, interlacing your fingers. “I don’t have a lot of experience when it comes to this sort of—intimacy.” You finally confessed, “and I’m afraid that you can’t help but compare me to others. Because if you do, you might be disappointed. And I don’t want you to be.”

He pulled your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I won’t.” He tugged you towards him, closing the small gap between you. You landed in his lap, straddling him, your hips hovering over his. His hands moved to your hips, yours laid on his shoulders. “You call the shots. If anything makes you feel uncomfortable, we stop.”

“That’s the sexiest thing I ever heard,” you sounded breathless. You sank down onto his lap, his grip on your hips a little tighter. You bit down your bottom lip, stifling a moan, as heat spread through your nether regions.

His hands palmed your ass through your dress, a groan rumbled through his chest, as his head fell back against the back of the couch. “Just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“You.” You leaned in, your lips barely brushing his. “Only you.”

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1 REACTION

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I believe I spoke too soon!!! Last week, I said the episode "No Place Like Home" was one of the strongest episodes in a very long time. While I do agree with that sentiment, I think this past week's episode is even better! But hey! I'm getting ahead of myself! Let me start over. This reaction is for the season 8, fifth episode "Masks" which originally aired October 24, 2024. The episode was written by Taylor Wong and directed by Christine Khalafian. Spoilers ahead!

It's been a long time since I've been this enchanted by an episode which is funny to say considering how much I gushed over the last episode. This episode was just so ... perfect! It was the perfect mix of comedy and drama. The scenes involving Buck had me laughing until my face hurt while Hen and Karen's storyline left me sobbing on my sofa. Also, Aisha Hinds deserves all the awards. No one on this show can go there emotionally like she can. Her acting in this episode rivals her performance in the episode "Malfunction". Speaking of acting, let's talk about the best plot of the episode.

Best plot?

This is really a hard one. I thought both of our major plots this episode were pretty amazing for different reasons. However, for the sake of keeping things balanced, I'm going to give it to Buck's plot. Now that Gerrard is gone, our resident Golden Retriever is back to being fun again! Halloween is approaching and the 118 have been delegated the task of turning the firehouse into a haunted house. The budget at the LAFD must be really nice if they can afford to go all out the way they did. Buck's contribution to the decorations is a creepy AF dehydrated-looking prop dead body he got from a Hollywood warehouse. The night of the haunted house, he shows it off to a group of kids. When the 'fake' corpse's arm snaps off, Buck sees there are tendons still attached. Turns out, our fake dead body is not so fake. In the words of Evan Buckley, he's real, he's real, he's real, he's real.

After dislocating his shoulder responding to an emergency involving a man's head trapped inside of a rotting pumpkin, Buck does some digging (pun totally intended) on the dead body. He learns the remains belong to an outlaw named William James McCurdy. McCurdy's nickname was Billy Boils due to large pustules that covered his body. Buck thinks he's been cursed by Billy Boils and to make matters worse, the morning after he dislocates his shoulder, he wakes up with giant boils all over his face.

The episode ends with Buck facilitating a proper burial for McCurdy (aka Billy Boils) and acknowledging the betrayal he suffered by those in his posse. If anyone knows what it feels like to have the people you trust turn their back on you and leave you behind, it's Buck and to a certain degree it's also Tommy who is there by his side through the whole ordeal. Overall, I thought this story did a great job of reminding us that Buck has found his own posse, a group of loyal individuals who will have his back no matter what. I loved the moments between Tommy and Eddie. I really like their dynamic and I hope we get to see more of it. I also think this is one of Oliver Stark's most comedic performances. I hope we get more fun Buck moments throughout the rest of the season.

Best Emergency Sequence?

The emergency involving the two students, their principal, and Denny is the best emergency sequence of the episode. It started off so innocently. I'm not a fan of Halloween pranks but the principal completely overreacted. His decision to get in his car and chase after the two girls was completely unhinged and his actions led to the tragic moment of the episode. A part of me was like, they are NOT about to kill little Denny Wilson off and the other part of me was like, what if they do kill him off. That would really up the dramatic stakes for Hen and Karen - as if they haven't already been put through the ringer this season. Denny's acting was pretty great this episode and it makes me wonder why he isn't a part of the main cast. Declan Pratt has been in most of the episodes so far this season and Gavin McHugh, who plays Christopher, has technically only been in one episode although we do get to see him in a photograph in this episode. I'm not trying to get in between Gavin and his money. All I'm saying is that Declan is putting in a lot of work this season and should be considered for the main cast next season.

Anyway, I digress. Hen is absolutely devastated by the events and it doesn't help that she's already feeling pretty guilty for having to miss celebrating Halloween with Denny and Mara. The moment that really got me is when the 118 arrive on the scene and Chimney sees Mara and Jee-Yun. The way he put two and two together and tried to warn Hen before she saw Denny gave me goosebumps. Kudos to Hen for simultaneously losing it and keeping it together while tending to Denny. I especially felt for Karen because she isn't a first responder so all she could do was stand back and watch. This must be every parent's worst nightmare. Things can happen so quickly and whether you're there like Karen or not like Hen, bad stuff can still happen.  Thankfully Denny is alright. I loved how the 118 and Tommy were all at the hospital in support. They really are a family and I have a feeling that's going to be a theme we get all season long. After the whole ordeal with fostering Mara last season and the Olivia Ortiz of it all and now this, I think we need to give the Wilson family a break. They've been through enough. Just give me nothing but sweet family moments between Hen, Karen, Denny, and Mara for the rest of the season. You hear me, writers!?

Episode MVP?

In an episode where Buck and Hen were our main focus, I have to give the Episode MVP award to our hot pilot, our bestest boyfriend - Tommy Kinard. It felt so good to have him back this episode and I totally wasn't expecting to get so much of him. Tommy is at the hospital when Buck dislocates his shoulder, he's caring for Buck at the loft, he's with the rest of the 118 while Denny is in surgery, and he dons his best suit to accompany Buck to the cemetery at the end of the episode. The man is the definition of showing up and a part of me is curious as to how the Buddie shippers are going to spin this. Tommy is a good guy and his heart is pure and yet they still hate him. I know what they think shouldn't bother me but it's really frustrating how far they're willing to go to villainize not only Tommy but the actor that plays him. Shout-out to Lou Ferrigno, Jr.! You are aging like fine wine, you sexy beast!

BuckTommy Corner

Speaking of Tommy, this week's BuckTommy Corner totally makes up for the lack of BuckTommy moments we got in the last three episodes. Tim Minear and company knew we were starving and he fed us so well this episode. First thing I want to talk about is our newest, canonical ship. The relationship between Tommy and Eddie is something this show needs more of. The scene where Tommy shows up at the hospital and Buck is explaining how he ended up dislocating his shoulder, I thought it was hilarious when Eddie kept interrupting. Also, I love the very subtle choice of having Eddie read a Sports Illustrated with swimsuit model on the cover. It reminds me of that Kim Kardashian meme where she's like 'I'm dropping hints that I'm single'. In this case, you can swap single for heterosexual. Another thing I found funny considering the ongoing shipwars on Tumblr, X, and Reddit, Eddie has way more chemistry with Tommy than he has with Buck which is another indicator that Buddie will remain fanon and fanon only.  But this isn't Buddie Corner - it's BuckTommy Corner and I loved the little moments of domestic bliss we got. Since we don't get to see Tommy every episode, it's important they find ways to show the evolution of he and Buck's relationship without being hamfisted about it. The way Tommy supports Buck in this episode tells me they have reached the stage in the relationship where both parties are completely comfortable with each other. I love the contrast between how Eddie supports Buck and how Tommy supports Buck. Eddie's way of supporting his best friend is to give him shit and poke fun at him while Tommy lets Buck be Buck but doesn't overindulge him. He gives advice when it's appropriate and shows up when he needs to. What I also like about Tommy's boyfriend abilities is how he listens actively. When Buck was rambling on and on about the curse, Tommy was so focused on hearing every detail even when he thought that Buck was being ridiculous. And lest we forget, the man got dressed up to attend the funeral of a man who's been dead over a 100 years. I don't know about y'all but I would love to have a partner like Tommy. Tommy's the kind of guy who won't be able to post your bail because he'd be right there in the cell with you.

I don't want to celebrate too much but I have a strong feeling that BuckTommy is going to last a long time. The level of care this canonical ship is getting by the writers and Tim Minear is on par with Hen and Karen. And Bobby and Athena. And Chimney and Maddie. I also get the feeling there's plans to make Tommy a part of the fire fam. He's now commented twice on how much he admires the 118 and how supportive they are of each other. I think Buck is going to take steps to make Tommy feel more included. Him sitting in that waiting room with the rest of the 118 felt so right. It felt natural. I think if you asked Athena or Bobby or Hen, they would tell you that Tommy's one of them. He's part of the family. Okay, it's time to end this bad boy. I really enjoyed this episode. I'm really enjoying this season. If season 8 were an album, there would be no skips so far. I hope we keep this momentum as we approach the winter hiatus which usually comes around episode 8 or 9. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention yet again the network change. ABC is the perfect home for a show like this and by shifting networks, I feel like there's more longevity for the series. There's so many stories we can tell and as long as Angela Bassett. Peter Krause, and the other main actors are willing to stick around, I think we can look forward to more seasons down the road. Until next time!

[winniethewife]

Every single thing to come has turned into ashes (Leto Atreides x reader)

Warning: Sad, Angst, Pregnancy, canon character death

Words: 541

She knew she was Second fiddle to Lady Jessica. Its wasn’t something she even questioned, But when The Duke left Caladan promising that once things were settled he’d send for her, She knew somewhere deep inside she wouldn’t see him again. She stares out on the water as she recovers from the news. Her Lover was gone, he was murdered. She thought she had cried every tear she had to give when they had told her. As she started back home she was thinking of the last time he lay in her bed.

“It will be alright. I will see you very soon.” He had said with such confidence, his hand had caressed her face as He lay beside her.

“Please…since you must go, say Goodbye. Just this once.” She had pleaded. He Shook his head and pressed a kiss to her lips once more. For the last time. But when he left, he hadn’t said a thing.

As she entered the empty halls of the castle of Atreides she looks around, She couldn’t find any more tears to cry, the lack of any personal items in the halls were a brutal reminder of what had happened.

“You were more than just a short time… you were a legend, something no one will ever surpass.” She said softly as if speaking to the empty halls was like talking to him. She made her way to her quarters, sitting at the end of her bed as she does so she touches her abdomen. Days after finding out what had happened to Leto, She had found out she was with child, his child, that’s when she found out she had plenty more tears left to cry. She sighed and looks up.

“I've got a lot to live without…Without you. What would you think my lord…my love. You’re never gonna meet your daughter. That kills me every day.” She doesn’t know why she thinks talking to air makes it so he would hear her. But she hopes to the gods that he hears her.

“Did some force take you because I didn't pray? Is this a punishment for some transgression I don’t know? Am I meant to pay for falling in love with a man who was never mine? Shall I spend the rest of my days wondering what could've been? What would've been if things had been different?” She doesn’t know who she’s asking now. She hold her head in her hands as she feels the grief, the endless possibility that lay ahead. She knew she and her child were in danger. If anyone knew she carried the last of the Atredies line, she would be dead for sure. After some deep breaths she held her pendant in her hand, one of the few gifts she ever received from the Duke. Looking down at the green gem His words echo in her head.

“You will never hear me say Goodbye, My darling, Goodbye is too final for us, I Don’t want our story to end. There will be no Goodbye’s.” If she closes her eyes she can see the care on his face as he had said that. Now all she wished was that there was at least one, the one that mattered.

~

Series Masterlist

[togrowoldinv]

Golden Egg

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

Clint invites your family to the farm for an Easter celebration and egg hunt

Note: Happy Easter to all of those who celebrate! I spent my day with family, so this is coming out a little later than I planned but I still wanted to post it today. Enjoy!

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

Holidays with Natasha are always your favorite. Despite not having much of a childhood, the woman makes your children’s day the best it can possibly be.

This morning you got the kids dressed nicely and took photos before you let them change and run around the farm with worries.

Natasha stands by your side now as you wait for the egg hunt, or as the kids think of it, the highlight of the day.

“Are you excited?” You ask her. Every year she gets really into it.

“Very,” she says. A smirk rests on her perfect lips. “I think I know which egg has the money in it.”

“Natasha! You’re not supposed to know,” you scold her. She just chuckles. “You better not cheat and tell one of our kids.”

She wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to the trailer Clint has set up to drive to the egg hunt.

“A hayride!” Belle shouts as she waits for her turn to hop on.

“Yeah, baby. We’re going to the egg hunt,” you explain.

“Yay!” Nate yells from beside her.

You and Nat take turns lifting the kids onto the trailer and sitting them on the hay. They listen to your instructions to stay seated as the Laura joins Clint on the front of the tractor.

He takes off and drives you all to a field where the older kids just finished hiding the eggs. The kids are bouncing on the hay bails they’re so excited to hunt for the eggs.

“Okay, everyone when we get off y’all need to line up at the starting point,” you explain. They nod their heads and you begin helping them off. Soon enough, it’s time for the hunt to begin.

“Give us a countdown, Coop,” Clint says.

The boy counts to three and the kids take off. You and Nat try to keep up with Belle while also watching Taylor do her best at it.

“She’s missing her basket,” Natasha says, chuckling at the way the littlest girl is picking up eggs but not putting them in her basket successfully.

“Poor baby. Go help her Nat,” you tell her.

“But the golden egg,” she says. “Belle has the best chance at finding it.”

“Natasha,” you scold her softly. She gives you a sweet look that border lines puppy dog eyes. “Fine. I’ll help her.”

“You’re the best!” Natasha says as she runs after Belle to help her.

You help Taylor figure out how to use her basket and it goes much better for her. At some point, she just plops down on the grass and starts opening her eggs.

“I found it! I found it!” You hear Belle yelling as she runs back towards you.

“Whatcha got there, sweetheart?” You squat down to her level.

“It’s the golden egg!”

“Oh, wow! Great find, kiddo,” you say.

Natasha comes up behind the girl with a beaming smile on her face. “Do you want me to hold it to keep it safe?” She asks.

“Please!” Belle hands it to Nat and runs off to keep hunting.

“Why were you so dead set on her getting this egg? What is it, like five dollars?” You ask her.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

She hands you the plastic egg and you raise a brow at her.

Still, you open the egg and inside there’s a ring.

“We’re already married, babe,” you tease, but you look at the ring further to see that it’s the birthstones of all your children plus your’s and Natasha’s. “Nat, this is-“

“The Easter bunny wanted to surprise you a little differently this year,” Natasha says. She takes the ring and places it on your hand. “Perfect.”

You pull her in for a kiss, ignoring your big kids’ response to the pda.

“I love you,” you tell her.

“I love you too, detka.”

You stay in her arms as you watch the kids continue to run around and find eggs.

“Baby, you do realize that Belle expects some kind of prize in this egg,” you say and Natasha shakes her head.

“I did not think about that,” she admits. “Hey Clint, you got 5 dollars?”

He gives her the cash and seems pretty oblivious to why she needs it, but Belle is very excited to come back to her egg.

You all load up to go back to the house and the kids empty their eggs to see what all they got.

The smiles on everyone’s faces shows just how happy the day was. And Natasha wears the biggest one.

[whispers-soundtrack-project]

The Last Of Us

Fanmix Part Six

Part One * Part Two * Part Three * Part Four * Part Five

Link to the Spotify Playlist is at the bottom of the post

Meet Me On The Battlefield (Svrcina)

We carry on through the storm * Tired soldiers in this war * Remember what we're fighting for

The Future Is Now (STARSET)

Flying into this future * I will let the science bring the change * This will be the final cure * I am gonna take the past away

Sunlight (Radical Face)

In a search for the words, I filled page after page * Still not sure what to say * And the knot in my chest is not in my chest * It's just a trick of the brain

The Forgotten (Green Day)

I don't feel strange, it's more like haunted * Another moment trapped in time * I can't quite put my finger on it * But it's like a child that was left behind

Stand By Me (Ben E. King)

When the night has come * And the land is dark * And the moon is the only light we'll see * No, I won't be afraid * Oh, I won't be afraid * Just as long as you stand * Stand by me

Welcome Back To You (Aron Wright)

In the becoming you became somebody else * Put through the wringer couldn't recognize yourself * But slowly, surely you have risen from your hell * Welcome back to you

In Your Own Time (Keane)

There's no map to guide our way * So I say nothing, you'll say nothing * In your own way * Thought I could help you find your place * But I'm as lost as you are lost these days

Lullaby (Lord Huron)

Come inside and lie down to sleep * You ain't gonna run and you know that you're beat * Rest awhile, they're coming for you * There's a price to be paid for the things that we do

Death Stranding (CHVRCHES)

Let's open up to the sky * Asking it for closure * 'Least we can say that we tried * But it's never really over * What will become of us all at the end of the line? * Will we live? Will we die?

Safe & Sound (Taylor Swift, ft. The Civil Wars)

I remember tears streaming down your face * When I said, "I'll never let you go." * When all those shadows almost killed your light * I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone," * But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

[rockytillyoriginal]

Have you met ROCKY TILLY yet? They’re the TWENTY SEVEN year old SURGICAL INTERN that lives around WEST POINT HOMES. I think they’ve lived in Seattle for TWENTY THREE YEARS. From what I’ve heard, they’re ADAPTABLE but once you’ve known them long enough you’ll find they can also be BRAZEN. When I think of them, I usually think of THIS IS ME TRYING BY TAYLOR SWIFT.

BASIC INFORMATION.

full name: rocky tilly

age: twenty seven

birth date: 5th march 1996

birth place: new orleans, louisiana

nationality: american

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

orientation: bisexual

occupation: first year surgical intern

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: michael evans behling

hair colour: black

hair style: a mass of soft, black curls on top with a gradual skin fade on the sides

eye colour: dark brown

height: 6"1'

weight: 200lbs

build: athletic

FAMILY.

mother: rowan tilly

father: atticus tilly

uncle: rock tilly

aunt: andy tilly

cousin: mikayla tilly

HISTORY.

With a pair of psychics for parents, it was safe to say that Rocky's childhood was more than unconventional. It wasn't like his parents claimed to be able to talk to the dead—unless it was a tourist in the French Quarter asking. It was more like they always just knew things that they shouldn't. It was little things, like knowing the grades on his report card before he even arrived home from school to show them, knowing when they had a visitor before the doorbell could even be pressed and even on occasion, much to Rocky's dismay, being able to understand his thoughts better than he could.

It never bothered Rocky much, having parents who were otherwise deemed bizarre and kooky by other peoples standards, until his teenage years. It wasn't until after he had long left New Orleans at the age of five, when his aunt had fallen ill—they were already packing their bags before Atticus had received the call from his brother—and his family moved to Seattle, Washington that his parents livelihood became something he felt embarrassed or ashamed of.

While his parents had found their calling in the paranormal, the more Rocky grew up and the more he found himself questioning his parents abilities more often and instead of seeking out answers in the unknown he was more drawn to the science of it all. Cold, hard facts. Proof. Evidence. That was what Rocky needed. He wasn't as free-spirited as the rest of his family, despite his best efforts to try and be more like them.

It would often make Rocky feel like a spare part in his family, like something was missing inside of him that nobody else seemed to be missing. His parents had their gifts, his aunt and uncle were Reiki Masters and even his cousin seemed to be able to slip in and out of different characters as she chose. All that Rocky had was himself—and his brain.

It turned out that Rocky was smart, incredibly smart, actually. No matter what issues he had going on at home or the trouble happening at school due to his classmates labelling him and his family a bunch of freaks, his grades never once slipped. They were always consistent, always scoring top of the class. He managed to keep this up all throughout high school, securing himself a coveted spot in Seattle's finest medical school where he studied for four years and recently graduated, beginning his surgical intern program at Seattle's finest hospital.

PERSONALITY.

+ compassionate, jovial, ardent, punctual and resilient - airy, brazen, imprudent, boastful, pessimistic

TIDBITS.

has an insatiable sweet tooth.

has a photographic memory

named after his uncle rock

he's a huge comic book nerd and miles morales and luke fox are his favourite comic book characters / once dresses up as miles for halloween

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

PLATONIC.

best friend / ride-or-die / other surgical interns / mentor / patients / frequent flyers to the E.R / drinking buddies / old high school buddies / west point neighbours etc

ROMANTIC.

friends with benefits / first loves / ex-boyfriend + girlfriend / skinny love / doomed love / flirtationship / tinder matches / grindr hook-ups / etc

ANTAGONISTIC.

disgruntled patients / hospital staff he has got on the wrong side of / former high school classmates / ex-boyfriend + girlfriend / one night stand gone wrong etc

CURRENT CONNECTIONS.

@thaddtandy ex-boyfriends / dated for two years / only broke up recently due to a strain in their relationship stemming from medical school and now his internship at the hospital eating up most of rocky's time and energy and thadd's commitment issues and peter pan syndrome

@mikaylatilly cousins / partners-in-crime / despite their five year age difference, they were thick-as-thieves growing up / any bad behaviours that rocky learned growing up he learned from mikayla

[pluckysidekick]

Hope everyone who celebrates had a relaxing and fun Thanksgiving! After we’ve been starved for BTS, cast and crew gifted us with some juicy ones this week. First up - Anthony Natale, a.k.a. Capt. Thom, rewarded us with yesterday’s cast meal - on the Claw set!

Something about seeing our beloved cast having a meal in the Claw warms my heart. There were a few posts from yesterday that clued us in that production was pushing through the holiday, including Thomas Cadrot (Jonas Glass) sharing that it was a wrap for him on ND in ep. 10 (can’t wait to see him in action!). I’m sure the American cast and crew are sad to be away from their families but the show must go on. So much to unpack here! Love seeing Ace surrounded by his onscreen parents (including Nicole Oliver who plays Rebecca), and this is the first confirmation that Jean Rosario is in S4 (Erica Serra). Melinda Hsu Taylor is onset to direct Ep. 11 (as well as being co-exec. producer). Check out the Claw coffee cups with little favors on top, and looks like they have special booklets - is it a breakdown for the rest of the season, or perhaps a special menu from the awesome craft team? Also loving the wardrobe, especially George’s tan vest and Nancy of course in a blazer and scarf combo. Did I mention Tunji looks amazing?

UPDATE: On further examination, the booklet is titled ‘Family Haggadah’ ! We now know from Ace and Nancy’s text chain from 404 that Ace is planning a Passover Seder dinner. This should be episode 11, and set in April of 2020 (when Passover fell in that year).

Next, we have to talk about Kennedy’s much welcomed chaos this week.

Both of these photos were taken earlier in the season based on her earlier posts in the same wardrobe, but Kennedy posting them now with her special brand of teasing is much needed to get us through this interminable hiatus. First the hilarious Nancy and George pic - i believe they are on the university set based on the timing (see my earlier post linked below). The looks on both of their faces are perfect. Who are they running from and to? And who’s next to Nancy - Ace? Nick? Ryan? Carson? Or a mystery cast member (played by Henry Zaga perhaps?). Kennedy’s wearing the same scarf/top combo from back in September so I suspect that’s when this pic is from.

The Nace pic is another thing entirely. Eagle eyed fans noted that the skulls are covering up SOMETHING. A symbol for the curse breaking ritual? A death mark? Is it a Weekend at Bernie’s themed episode as some fans have suggested, with Nancy and Ace just a little dead? Kennedy’s covering up of Ace’s wardrobe is also curious. We know from earlier posts from the same ep. (one from the Claw and one from Icarus Hall) he’s wearing some sort of light grey jacket. Looking at what’s peeking through, is it covering up dark colored scrubs perhaps? Or something to do with the ritual? A hospital gown? And what’s with Nancy’s purse? Absolutely maddening. And we love Kennedy for it. Also, earring. S4 can’t come soon enough.

We saw a few more fun photos and videos from the crew that hint at some new sets. Maddison and applebananapear posted videos of the same cow (the Crew visits the farm?!?) while Anthony Natale posted shots from the Claw exterior including Capt. Thom in the water! Is he going to save Ace?

There’s also an Airstream onset, which we got a glimpse of from the outside and the inside, courtesy of Thomas Cadrot and applebananpear respectively. Do we get to see our crew camping? Perhaps they’re on the run?

Last one I can squeeze into this post - a video of applebananapear sneaking a drink courtesy of sangalicious - from a hospital set (check out the Acadia Medical Center sign). It shouldn’t be a surprise that someone is in the hospital at this point in the season.

OK, friends, that’s all I have room for (did you know Tumblr mobile has 10 photo limit?). DP Nick Thomas just posted some amazing photos from set that give us more of the farm set and more, check them out now! Maybe I’ll do another post as they are stellar with lots of new clues. Also look for long overdue The Space Between Ch. 12 very soon, complete with the morning after for Nace and actual progress in the case. Bye for now!

[hmslusitania]

well you still make sense to me, your mess is mine

or, a 5x03 coda about cleaning kitchens

Buck has just closed his eyes when his phone buzzes.

He turns it over on his chest, expecting it to be the front door asking him to buzz Taylor in – she’s done it before, after all, been on his screen and then shown up at his door – but it’s not. It’s a text from Eddie. And unlike the text suggests, Buck is not sleeping, and he’s not hanging out with Taylor, and there’s a certain finality in the way Eddie writes out “Ana’s gone” that makes him want to ask questions, and he doesn’t actually process what he’s doing until he’s sitting in the driver’s seat of the Jeep with his keys in the ignition.

He hesitates for just a moment, and then decides no, he really doesn’t want to sit alone in his apartment.

He lets himself into Eddie’s house when he gets there and is instantly greeted by Christopher, which, after everything with Harry, just warms his heart.

“Buck!” Christopher says, wrapping him in a hug.

“Hey buddy,” Buck replies, squeezing him tightly for a second and kissing the top of his head.

“Dad’s in the kitchen,” Christopher informs him and then returns to playing video games on the couch, now that he can for the first time in however many days it’s been. They’ve all blurred together in Buck’s head.

Buck ruffles Chris’s curls one last time and ducks into the kitchen only to freeze.

There’s disaster everywhere.

The cabinet doors are open or partially shut and mostly empty because almost every dish Eddie owns is scattered across the counters and the kitchen table and the dishwasher is already running, but it doesn’t seem to have any effect because there are still dirty dishes…all over the place. And that’s before the half-filled muffin tins and the empty boxes of muffin mix and the mixing bowls and the half finished containers of milk and eggs that must have gone into all the muffins but which are definitely no longer fit for human consumption if they’ve been out on a counter in LA during this weather for longer than ten seconds.

And then there’s Eddie with his back to the door, washing dishes with—

“Are those frog-shaped dish gloves?” Buck asks.

There’s no way Eddie hadn’t known he was there, but he still startles like Buck’s caught him mid deep-thought.

“Uh,” Eddie says, looking down at his hands, which are definitely clad in bright green gloves to match his soap holder, and then doesn’t confirm or deny. “Sorry for the mess.”

“Hey, I don’t mind,” Buck says. “Besides, it’s not like you made it, right?”

“It’s still my fault,” Eddie points out, which…

Buck shrugs and when the dishwasher beeps a second later, he opens it, dodges the cloud of steam, and starts putting the stuff away. They don’t talk for a while, just cleaning in companionable silence, while Buck loads the dishes Eddie hands him into the dishwasher.

When all that’s left is foodstuffs rather than dishes, Buck grabs one of the muffins and unpeels it as Eddie puts the rest into a Tupperware. Buck stuffs the thing whole into his mouth and instantly regrets it when it goes claggy and gluey, with just a hint of bad aftertaste like maybe the milk had already kind of been off by the time it went into the batter.

“Huh,” Buck says.

“What?” Eddie asks, trying to stuff a few more of the things into the Tupperware.

“I didn’t know you could fuck up muffins from a box that badly,” Buck says. He considers just spitting it out, but perseveres and immediately washes it down with about a gallon of water.

Eddie watches him with a frown and picks up one of the muffins himself.

“I wouldn’t,” Buck warns, but Eddie ignores him. Unlike Buck, he takes a sensible bite of it, but he still makes a face of instant regret.

“These should just—” he starts, and Buck grabs the garbage from under the sink while Eddie tips the awful muffins into it.

And then they clean out the fridge, which they probably should’ve done first because anything that was in it and truly perishable had not survived the week and Buck’s honestly a little shocked that Ana hadn’t thrown all of it out already, but, well, maybe there’s something in there about clinging to things you know aren’t working. Or, maybe it’s just gross and she didn’t want to deal with it, which Buck gets but also does not get at all.

“You know, they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Buck says when they’ve gotten all of the dead food out of the house. “I’m a little concerned about her roadmap.”

Eddie snorts and then searches Buck’s face for a second. They’ve been cleaning long enough that it’s afternoon now, and the beers Buck had brought have been in the fridge long enough to be cold, and Eddie hands him one while they lean against the counters in the delightfully fresh-smelling and clean kitchen.

“I thought you were on Ana’s side,” Eddie says quietly.

Buck recoils. “Dude, no? I’m on your side, always. Even if sometimes that means telling you to pull your head out of your ass. I mean, yeah, I empathise with her, because I’ve been there and it—”

He’s been there, he’s been the person in a relationship holding onto it as tightly as he can when it’s been about as effectual as a lapdog pulling on its owner’s sock to try and keep them from going to work in the morning. He’s been there, he was there with Abby, and he’s…

There’s a reason he’s at Eddie’s house instead of at home.

Eddie’s foot taps against his and startles Buck out of his unpleasant realisations. “Buck?”

“I’m good,” Buck says. “But I’m on your side, you know that, right?”

Eddie’s smile is a little slow and almost a little shy, but it warms Buck from the inside out, which is nice. It’s also the first time Eddie’s smiled since Buck’s come over.

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie says.

“Good,” Buck says, using some of the beer to swallow down the lump in his throat, and then reaching for the fridge. “Okay, let’s figure out what survived and see if we can’t cobble together something that looks like a late lunch.”

Eddie nods and squeezes his arm, and Eddie’s hand is warm and strong and grounding all at once. “Sounds like a plan.”

[tripleaxeldiaz]

“Truth or dare,” Eddie asks.

Taylor takes another swig, the line of whiskey dropping once again, almost to a quarter full. “Dare.”

He thinks for a minute. “I dare you to hold a handstand for as long as you can.”

The chair clatters just a little as she stands. “Jokes on you, Diaz. I was on the all state gymnastics team all four years of high school.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t five shots deep for any of those meets.”

She dips her head in concession. As she’s tying back her hair and taking off her shoes, his phone pings with a text.

[from: Buck] the 133 finally got here, they should have the elevator open in 15

Eddie smiles, relieved. Buck’s been stuck for two hours now, and even though the elevator’s just down the hall from the loft, Eddie doesn’t like not being able to get to him, not being the one to get him out of this.

He takes another drink, hopes the burn stops the fluttering in his heart and his stomach.

[to: Buck] We’ll try and save some Jack for you, but no promises.

[from: Buck] hope you kids are getting along!!

If “getting along” means goading each other into more and more elaborate truths and dares as the alcohol has been flowing, then yeah, they’re getting along just fine.

“Buck should be free in 15 minutes,” he says, noting the way Taylor’s shoulders drop ever so slightly in her own relief.

“Great,” she says, raising her hands in the air. “Start the timer.”

To be fair, three minutes is pretty impressive.

She makes Eddie do his best “dad dance moves” in retaliation and films the whole thing.

“Truth or dare,” he pants as he sits back down, head resting in his folded hands. He’s only a little dizzy but, the soft light coming from every candle Buck owns makes everything blurred and easier to handle. He can just make out Taylor’s face as she contemplates a response.

“Truth,” she says firmly.

He means to think of a good question, a deep dive that may or may not get some embarrassing story out of her, crack the perfect facade that he’s only ever gotten to see that Buck swears is housing something more. Maybe about her first date, or her first kiss, something guaranteed to be awkward but still humanizing.

Instead, the whiskey asks, “Are you in love with Buck?”

She doesn’t flinch. He almost asks her again because he thinks maybe she didn’t hear him. But he sees her cock her head to the side and stare into the middle distance, thinking, so he waits. He closes his eyes, enjoying the almost total darkness, the unnatural quiet of the city just outside the window. If he could, he’d sink into it, away from the loft and from Taylor and whatever her answer is, because he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle it, no matter what.

“Not yet,” she says finally, and Eddie’s stomach twists into a million different knots, just like he suspected it would. “But I think I could be, eventually.”

All he can do is nod and take another swig.

She stares at him, head still cocked as she asks, “Truth or dare.”

There’s a safe option, an option that doesn’t involve him baring any more of himself to basically a total stranger, but once again, the whiskey takes over. “Truth.”

She keeps looking, and he thinks he finally catches a glimmer of the girl inside the shell. Vulnerable, a little nervous. Trying to find her place.

She sits up straight, and the shutters close back up. “Are you in love with Buck?”

There’s no escape, really. He could laugh it off, deny it until he was blue in the face, but they’d both know it was just for show. And as much as he may not like Taylor, he does respect her, too much to lie to her.

He doesn’t want to lie to himself anymore, either.

He looks her dead in the eye and takes yet another swig.

Judging by the way she stares back, he thinks she gets it.

Before anything else can happen, the front door jiggles and flies open, Buck striding in with a big grin on his face like he wasn’t just trapped in a metal box for a majority of the evening.

“Sweet freedom!” he says, plopping into the chair between Taylor and Eddie. “Can’t wait to tell Chris about that one, he’ll get a kick out of Mrs. Hace making sure all three dogs got out safely before her husband.” He lights up when he sees there’s still booze left and takes a long pull, eyes flitting from left to right. “Did I miss anything here? How’s your evening been?”

Taylor’s still looking at him, but the sharpness has softened again into a small, resigned smile.

“Enlightening,” she says.

Eddie drinks again.

[littlemisslipbalm]

I live in the neighbourhood

When Y/N moved to Hampstead she was unaware of the implications the decision would have on the course of the rest of her life.

or

Harry is Y/N’s eccentric neighbour who sweeps her up in the whirlwind that is his life

this gif bc its maybe my favorite clip of him EVER holy fuck - this is the harry of my dreams this is the harry of i live in the neighbourhood

HEY YALL it’s been a minute and I missed yall so much and I’m just about to be on break so maybe i’ll be back to posting writing regularly but with school its so hard and I think I’ve been working on this for months so yeah <3 lol PLS PLS PLS leave me feedback and reblogs and that stuff bc otherwise my writing just feels...empty and you have no idea the smile i get when even just the tags say like “god this was everything” it can be anything honestly but it keeps my passion up. Thank you again and hope you enjoy.

Word Count: ~10k | Warnings: swearing probably? no smut (yet), rich and famous harry - mentions of Taylor Swif 

-

She considered herself an average young woman in her mid twenties. She liked screaming Taylor Swift and Megan Thee Stallion songs alone in her car and thrifting on weekends. She hated cable because of commercials and when doordash didn’t deliver all of her order. She had asthma when she worked out or the air quality was bad. She had dumb celebrity crushes that her friends and her still laughed over with every new instagram post. She had hopes and dreams she had yet to achieve and she had past trauma that many would never know about, especially at first glance.

Sure, she was successful. She would admit that. How else would she be able to afford even the modest little house she had found in Hampstead? She had studied international business in college and hopped on a plane to London the first chance she got. After a few years of a more than decent paycheck and an advantageous stimulus check from her kind parents, she was able to move out of her starter flat into the suburbs. The definitive push for the move was two-fold. Her parents wanted her to take her dog and her apartment complex was strict on no pets. Then her promotion at work - which included a pay raise - made it hard to wave off taking full ownership of her childhood ten-pound best friend.

So with life happening as it usually does, Y/N first found herself scouring Zillow, then touring homes in the area, and finally standing outside a three bedroom, two bath, two-story cream house in Hampstead. Her house.

The little moving truck she had rented sat beside her as she stared at her future. The realtor had told her they would be there in ten minutes. For the next ten minutes all Y/N had to do was keep herself from combusting, or worse, sobbing.

She felt overwhelmed already. Renting a flat in London was one way to describe herself as independent. Owning a home in Hampstead seemed like a whole new level of adulthood she wasn’t sure if she was prepared for.

After taking a few deep breaths to ground herself, Y/N walked up to the gate that kept her front yard narrowly separated from the sidewalk. She lifted one hand from beneath the box she clutched tightly to her chest to push past the iron-rod gateway. The garden was cute, a little bland, and she thought to herself that maybe she’d develop some gardening skills now that she had her own front yard. The thought made her smile a little, refraining from laughing aloud while on her lonesome, since she had never taken interest in gardening before. But this house. This house. It was a new beginning. It was a fucking unwritten journal. Blank film. Unknown territory. She could be anyone in this house.

She gently placed the cardboard box on the first step up to the front door. There was no porch, but she couldn’t complain. It was gorgeous and she was lucky to get it at the price she did. The house was cream with dark blue accents and a grey shingled roof. Lots of windows. It was classic and it was hers.

After the realtor came with her keys and made sure everything seemed alright, Y/N’s couple of friends, Amélie and Daniel, arrived with their cars filled with items she had needed picking up from various stores. They helped her move her stuff into the house. Thankfully it was already half furnished, meaning she didn’t have to go out and buy beds or couches or any of those big items that are both expensive and a hassle to deal with.

By the time the evening had rolled around, everything was in the house and it actually seemed semi put together. Y/N looked around, sweat apparent on her face and hands on her hips, proud of what she had accomplished. The nerves from earlier had been drowned by pride.

-

The next day, she woke up from her first night in the house. It felt like a dream even though she was sure she was awake.  

She had to navigate her way to the airport today to pick up her dog from his long flight and then mainly settle into the house. Her house sat on Sherwood Avenue, one of the many streets in Hampstead. It’s neighboring houses were much larger. The ones directly next to and across from her weren’t drastically bigger but what she had yet to learn was that next to the house across from her there were two houses that had been joined together by their slightly eccentric owner. A man who would be the match that ignited the flame that was the rest of her life.

This unknown fact quickly became known after Y/N’s first few weeks in her new neighbourhood. The eccentric - more so absurdly rich - neighbor who conjoined the houses was Harry Styles.

The first time they crossed paths she wasn’t even aware of it. It was the day she moved in. He had been out for his usual morning run and was rounding the corner when she had pulled up in her moving van. Once inside his home, he snoopily watched on as his neighbour began to move in. He hadn’t taken note of much about her, just that she was new and that she had a nice pair of jeans on that day.

The second time, Y/N was convinced she needed to get her eyes checked because there was no way that she had just seen Harry Styles key himself into the house across the way from her. There was no way that she had moved into the same area as him, let alone the same street. It seemed far more plausible that she needed a psych evaluation or a strong glasses prescription.

But the third instance of them crossing paths, she was proven wrong. She was on her way back from the neighbourhood park when she saw a guy jogging towards her. With a yellow beanie and a black Columbia sweatshirt paired with running shorts and shoes, he was hard to ignore running straight towards her. The iconic curls, strong jawline, and soft green eyes were dead giveaways this time. After making brief eye contact as their paths literally crossed, she felt herself make a little face of odd interest. Her head quirked and her eyes narrowed, lips pursed with slight confusion. That was definitely him.

After that, she found herself seeing Harry around the neighbourhood a relatively good amount. She’d see him at the park, at the coffee shop, on their street, and more. They didn’t speak. She really didn’t think he would want to be bothered by his neighbours and she certainly wasn’t willing to test the theory. They sometimes gave a small smile of acknowledgement but nothing really friendly. Just ‘you exist and I know that’.

-

Fridays are Y/N’s favorite day. It’s the beginning of the weekend, she never has to go into work and it’s simply a nice day. People are happier, they smile brighter and it just seems like the world is a little better than usual.

Friday was especially amazing today because her childhood best friend, Cate, was arriving at London Heathrow in the evening. Y/N had begged Cate to fly out to see the new house in person and Cate had finally found the time to run away to England for a week.

She shut her front door carefully behind her and placed her headphones in her ears. Rori, that little terrier, who had made a similar flight to see Y/N’s place not too long ago, scampered out the door with her and jumped happily at her legs as she fiddled with her phone. Her coat ruffles around her disturbed from the morning air. It’s blanket-like fabric that consisted of a deep blue backdrop with felt giraffes sewn on it, kept her warm while she walked. With her mind racing with weekend plans and ideas for her and Cate to do both in Hampstead and the city, she crossed the street like usual and began to walk with her dog to the coffee shop for her morning tea.

Unlike usual, she fumbled just as she was putting her phone in her pocket and bumped into something large and definitely not sedentary.

“I’m so sorry!” She blushed and moved backwards from the man who had just been shutting his own front gate to head somewhere.

“S’alright. No harm, no foul.” He looks down at her and her dog. Rori seems excited by the stranger and sniffs him eagerly. A single paw prodding at the man’s long leg.

She grimaces, hearing the voice and stepping back allows her to fully recognize who she had just bumped into. Her neighbour. The runner. Harry Styles.

“Sorry.” She mutters again as Rori continues to prod at Harry’s leg.

She tries to coax Rori away, but Harry simply smiles and leans down to the small dog.

“Hi there buddy,” he coos and rubs the top of the fluffy dogs head, in between his pointy ears, “What’s your name?”

“Rori.” She states easily, Harry’s eyes flickering to her smoothly. Rori makes a smile babbling noise that sounds a bit like a tiny roar - hence the name - and Harry chuckles to himself.

“He’s really adorable,” he finally says and straightens up from his admiring of the dog.

The grimace becomes more of a smile on her face and she mumbles a “Thank You”.

As her neighbour - who hasn’t introduced himself (which wasn’t necessary, but still) or bothered to ask for her introduction - seems to be about to say something new when his phone begins to vibrate obnoxiously. He twitches, his large hands immediately going to his pockets for the important device. He checks the message and looks back at her face.

“Sorry, I have to run...um,” he’s not sure what to say. He really does have to go, but he doesn’t even know his neighbour’s name. He’ll have to make sure to get it at some point in the near future. Especially now that he’s acquainted with her dog.

“No worries,” she smiles completely this time, relieved for the whole interaction to be over. She felt like she was going to explode with each passing moment. In the presence of a legendary musician, c’mon, who wouldn’t be freaking out. All she could think about was how Harry Styles now knew her dog’s name. What the fuck!

-

Upon arriving at the airport, she waited patiently for Cate to walk out of the customs area.

When she did, the two young women began jumping up and down excitedly, Y/N squealing only slightly. They hugged and began chattering intensely, catching up on lost time that generally occurs when you live an ocean apart.  

Finally, one comment rings through the constant back and forth and Cate stops.

“Wait, what did you just say,” she questions as they begin walking to catch an uber back to Hampstead.

“I think my house might be haunted?” Y/N’s voice raising because she’s unsure if that’s what Cate was talking about.

“No, no, the thing after that. I think I must’ve misheard you.”

“Harry Styles is my neighbour?” Y/N’s brows raise as she looks over at her best friend, curious to know what she will say.

“Yes! Explain. Now!”

“It’s not really a big deal. It’s a nice neighbourhood, it makes sense that celebrities of his caliber want to live there.”

“That is not explaining. You have to introduce us!”

As they climb into their uber and settle in for the short ride back to Hampstead, Y/N sighs and tells Cate everything she knows.

“We’ve only just spoken today and I’ve been here for a couple weeks. He lives across the street and down one, I guess. I just see him around, it’s not like he knows who I am. He didn’t even get my name today, just Rori’s.” She laughs lightly, still finding it funny that Harry knows her dog’s name.

Cate nods, leaning in slightly to her best friend, hardly able to contain her awestruckness from the story and baffledness at Y/N’s calmness. “So, like, when do I get to meet him?”

“Girl, I don’t fucking know. Never, if you’re going to act wild. I don’t want the neighbourhood to think I’m not chill.”

“Sometimes…” Cate starts and leans away from Y/N jokingly, “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They both smile, bumping elbows silently. The song on the radio fading in louder as their words die out.

-

The next day, Y/N took Cate to the local park. It was expansive and connected to the football fields that local teams would play at. The park section was a luscious green that was maintained with copious amounts of watering by the township.

She and Cate settled on a patch of grass near a slender tree that would offer some shade if the sun’s rays became too harsh. The quilt they sat on was something her grandmother had made her when she was maybe 8 years old, meaning it was torn in places and completely worn in a different shade of pink than it had been initially.

They set up their picnic and played music, enjoying the sunny day. Something rare and fleeting as the fall began to creep up on Hampstead.

They eat and catch up on life for about an hour. Basking in the sunlight, Y/N had laid on her back and was staring up at the clouds passing along the sky. Cate was carefully watching their surroundings, simply taking in her friend’s new home, but possibly for another reason too.

“Hey, isn’t that…” Cate trails off, trying to subtly nod in the direction of an approaching figure.

Y/N sits up, her hands holding her up from behind her. Her hair fails in front of her shoulders slightly and it’s a little disheveled from being mused in the grass. She looks discreetly in the direction of Cate’s nodding and then looks at her friend and rolls her eyes.

“Yes, but don’t say anything, he might not even notice me and I’m certainly not calling out to him.”

‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift is playing off her speaker and as she’s about to change it, Cate turns it up slightly. They share a glare with one another before trying to act casual again, even though both of their eyes kept flickering to the man who seemed to be continuing closer and closer to their set up.

It became clear that Harry was approaching them after all and Y/N tried to carry on an unbothered conversation with Cate, which was hard with the constant nudging of Cate’s foot on her shin.

He stops a mere foot away from their blanket, beaming at the two young women lounging on the ground. He makes an attempt at a casual wave, his large hand splaying his fingers quickly, before opening his mouth to speak.

Cate beats him to the punch. “Hello there!”

“Erm, hi!” He says nicely to her and then looks at Y/N.

“No Rori today?” He inquires.

“No,” she smiles, slightly blushing at the fact that he remembered her and her dog. “He’s napping.”

“Ah, I see,” He pauses, “I feel like I need to apologize.” He continues.

“For what?” She questions and Cate watches on anxiously, mesmerized by Harry and dying to see what happens next.

“I ran off before I could even ask for your name or introduce myself. It was terribly rude.”

“Oh,” she can’t stop smiling, “It’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sure you’re busy. Besides I had to get my day started, otherwise I would’ve been late picking her up.” She points to Cate who smiles sheepishly, still internally screaming over the fact that her friend is able to talk so easily to a celebrity.

Harry nods and looks at Cate again, “Just visiting I take it then?”

She nods quickly, words escaping her. Y/N chuckles under her breath and swoops in to save her friend any embarrassment. “Cate’s my best friend and she’s been kind enough to take time out of her extremely busy life to come look at my new house.”

He hums, still standing a respectful distance from their set-up. “Nice to meet you, Cate,” he says very kindly. Then he laughs, but in a way that is like he’s beside himself. The two women both quirk their heads at him. Y/N squints her eyes slightly, trying to understand the guy she is talking to and connecting him with the man that is all over the news all of the time for his musical genius.

“Now I know your dog and best friend’s names but still not yours. At this point, I’m begging you to tell me.”

They all laugh and Y/N feels nervous for the first time since Harry had walked up.

“You first,” she smiles slyly.

His eyes widen slightly in surprise, but then go back to normal. Harry was very smart, she likely knew his name, but one, she was trying to be funny and two, she was also trying to be courteous. He preferred to introduce himself rather than just be told who he is, even if people already knew. It allowed him to maintain some normalcy.

“‘M Harry,” He says with a smile.

“Alright.” She says and then remains quiet.

Harry’s lips quirk up in a faint smile, amused at her expression.

“I thought it was a ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine’ type of situation or was I mistaken?” He finally asks when she remains silent still.

The two young women laugh and Y/N bites the inside of her cheek, both feeling flustered and completely in control at the same time.

“You weren’t mistaken, I was just thinking.” Then she pauses again and Cate thinks Harry is about to combust and Harry thinks he’s going to as well with all the anticipation that has been built up over his neighbor’s name, even though he was pretty sure he’d heard it in passing at one point or another but had forgotten quickly afterwards.

“It’s Y/N.”

Harry releases a facetious sigh of relief, “Oh thank god! Finally!” His words quickly turn into an infectious laugh that is paired with a shining smile and she feels like she’s swooning right then and there. The control has gone out the window and she’s taken with her neighbor. He’s wonderful in that moment and she forgets about Cate or the park or anything. It’s just Harry and how it seems like he’s smiling just for her.

“Now that I’ve gotten your name,” he smiles pointedly at her after his laughter has faded away. The smile doesn’t leave his face though, his eyes still crinkled, his dimples still showing.

She nods, encouraging him to continue. Cate feels like she’s watching a movie unfold in front of her and she wishes she could record the entire interaction.

“I can finally ask you, Y/N, where did you get that fabulous coat I saw you wearing yesterday?”

She twitches further upright, eyes bringing themselves directly inline with Harry’s gaze. “Oh,” she inhales, “The giraffe one, yeah?”

He nods.

“I got it from a Goodwill years ago. It’s some vintage company that used to only make sleepwear. I looked up the tag one time and it doesn’t exist anymore. Super cool, though. Wish I could buy more.”

“Yeah,” Harry says eagerly, even taking a step towards the women, “It was so intriguing. Maybe, if you didn’t mind of course -” he falters, losing his courage for a moment, “you could bring it over and my stylist could check it out. I would love something similar and I’m sure he could figure it out.”

She shrugs. It wasn’t crazy, especially not for Harry - she assumed. She was certain he often found things he liked but there was only one of them so he would just order his own. She couldn’t help the pride that was swelling inside her though it that moment. Harry Styles liking her jacket so much he asked where it was from and then wanting his stylist to look at it. She’d jump for joy when she was in the safety of her private home later tonight with Cate.

“One condition,” she says and Harry’s brows quirk amusedly at her.

“You are a very tit for tat person,” he muses.

“Fair’s fair,” she shrugs again and then looks around her quickly, “It’s simple so don’t get too worked up over it, buddy.”

He laughs slightly again and tries to figure out what she’s looking for. When she extends a scratched up, sticker-covered point and shoot film camera he smiles.

“Can you take a picture of Cate and I? It’s always just the two of us so we never have anyone to take pictures of us together.”

Harry grins at this and her sincere face. Cate is a little taken aback, because while it’s technically true, it’s not entirely factual. They have plenty of film pictures of them - maybe not recently though. And she wasn’t going to question Y/N right now. It seemed like she knew what she was doing.

Harry takes the camera and begins to look through the viewfinder. The women scoot closer together and Cate wraps her arm around Y/N’s shoulder. She leans in to press her cheek against her best friend. They smile up at the camera and Harry crouches slightly to get a better angle.

“Alright,” he mumbles, “Ready?...Cheese!”

Their smiles stay hung on their face as they listen for the click and when the faint sound befalls their ears, Cate laughs and Y/N pulls away. She reaches forward for the camera, her hand easily brushing Harry’s large one.

Their smiles meet each other and Cate can’t help but notice how they grow as the two of them look at one another.

“Thank you,” Y/N says sweetly and pulls back to retake her seat on the blanket.

Harry straightens up, his grin falling back into that signature smirk. “No problem.”

“So-” He begins but she cuts him off.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He clears his throat, feeling thrown off. “Yeah, sure. I guess next time I see you we can talk about when a good time would be for your jacket to come over?”

His voice raises at the end of his question a little more than usual, he’s trying to get her to bite, but she doesn’t seem like someone who is easily thrown off. He is trying to read her and she’s been completely cool the entire time. It’s intriguing. Even more so than the jacket, even though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it, it wasn’t really his focus when he walked across the park to her and Cate.

“Yep! It was nice finally meeting you Harry.”

He feels the cue to walk off and says his farewells. As he walks off, back on course to his intended destination, his head is filled with questions. Most important of them being when he would see her again.

Cate and Y/N watch him walk towards the football fields. They see him meet with a group of men and it seems like they’re there to practice or play a game. Y/N couldn’t be sure.

“He likes you!” Cate finally bursts out.

Y/N rolls her eyes, “Stop trying to make me take the piss. That’s a fucking lie and you know it.”

“It’s not! He likes you and you obviously like him, I mean, but we been knew.”

“Having a crush on the famous Harry Styles when you’re 17 is different than me liking my neighbour Harry.”

“But you like him don’t you? He’s even better than he was when he was 19. Now he’s all grown up and established and more your style anyway.”

“Shut up! He could hear you.”

“He really couldn't, he's yards away, you’re just paranoid.” Cate continues to tease and ridicule her best friend over Harry and Y/N is just about ready to up and leave, but she also can’t help but laugh it off.

“I’m literally gonna kick you out if you keep talking,” Y/N says between laughs and the women feel like they’re back in high school losing their minds over the stupidest joke ever.

“Okay, fine. But all I have to say is I will hold this over you when you end up together.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, whatever. Just be prepared to wait forever because I can promise you Harry Styles and I are never ending up together.”

--

Two Weeks Later

Y/N walked to her door after hearing the doorbell ring and opened it to find her neighbour standing with his arm raised ready to knock.

“Hey, Harry,” She greeted easily, but not entirely sure why he was here.

They hadn’t really seen each other since their official meeting in the park. It hadn’t bothered her and it hadn’t really bothered Harry either. It seemed like they both had extremely busy lives that they didn’t plan on throwing out the window because they had said they would meet up at some point. She liked that.

Harry had come over because he finally had a break in his schedule and was hoping to talk about the jacket and anything else really. He was interested in getting to know her and he didn’t care to hide it.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go get a coffee or something?” He asked, leaning himself against her door frame now.

Her eyebrows raise and her eyes widen a little bit, not completely sure she heard him correctly.

“Right now?!” She asked incredulously.

She was wearing an oversized grey sweatshirt and black bike shorts that peaked out from underneath the sweatshirt hem. One of her socks was shoved around her ankle while the other was pulled up flat to touch the base of her calf. She didn’t think she was looking the most presentable at the moment. She had been basking in her day off by simply laying on the couch watching hours of Netflix.

He nods, his smile growing on his face. Her flustered expression only made him happier. She was always so nonchalant with him, he wanted to see her a little more antsy.

“Unless you’re busy,” he adds seriously, not wanting to bother her, just wanting to spend time with her.

“No, no. I’m not...I’m not busy. I just wasn’t expecting any plans where I would be required to go out in public. Let me just...um, come inside and then give me five minutes.”

“Sure,” Harry smiles again as he steps into her home.

Her smile is sheepish and much less genuine then the one Harry holds on his face as he takes in her abode. She tells him to make himself comfortable and then runs to her room to try and possibly fix her state in under five minutes.

She tears around her room, heaving off the frumpy sweatshirt and grabbing a long sleeve striped v-neck top she had hanging out half out of her hamper, a sign known to her that while it was clean enough to wear, if she happened to do laundry she should wash it. Slipping it over her head, she walks to her dresser and leans over to open the bottom drawer and unfolds a pair of dark wash oversized jeans. There’s no holes in them and she throws them on the bed so that she can slip out of her current pants. Next, onto the socks, she swaps out the current ones for a fresh black pair and finds her tortoise print boots to flick on. As she just about runs into her en suite bathroom, she zips the two boots up between steps. A quick comb through her hair, deodorant, two spritz of perfume, her eyelash curler and mascara and she’s running back to where Harry is waiting in her living room.

He blinks surprisedly at her promptness, usually giving people more time then what they say they need. She had indeed gotten ready in five minutes. He thought she looked breathtaking. And she felt like she was at a lack for breath in any case.

“It’s a bit cold out,” he glances to the window.

“Isn’t it always?” She smiles, finally catching her breath.

He chuckles and then nods, a smile appearing on his face as he feels a warmth in his chest at her wit.

“Ready?” He checks in.

She nods, grabbing a coat she kept hung by the door.

“Just the coffee shop down the way?” She inquires as they exit the house and she locks the door behind her.

Harry hums, waiting down a step for her to turn around and walk beside him. It was so strange to her, this felt all too normal with him. Like he was just a friend who had come to pick her up for coffee, her neighbor, nothing more.

“Did you hear the new season of the Crown is coming out soon?” Harry asks as they walk shoulder to shoulder (technically since her shoulder wasn’t in line with his).

“Really?” She looks at him, “I love that show!”

“Me too,” He looks at her and smiles happily.

“That’s amazing,” she breathes mostly to herself, half about the show and half about how Harry watches television and that he watches one of her favorite shows.

There’s silence. The brisk air pricking their cheeks as they walk down their street. Their puffs of breath create a slight mist of white ahead of them and then quickly dissipates.

Her eyes flit up to Harry’s chiseled jaw and face and she watches him as his eyes carefully and meaningfully take in his surroundings. Was it her turn to take a stab at conversation? It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but she just wasn’t sure what was going on.

“You play football right?” She says finally as they turn onto the next street that would bring them closer to the café they both frequented.

She remembered seeing him there on several occasions. The tips he left were always overly generous, which she assumed you could do when you were exorbitantly rich. He always smiled when he ordered and knew the baristas by name. His order rarely differed and she hated to admit but she knew his two regulars. His actual “regular” was a 12 ounce black coffee, dark roast, no cream and no sugar. The other, his “I’ll actually have”, was a 16 ounce iced green tea, no cream and no sugar.

She couldn’t help that she was observant and that when ‘H’ was called at the bar she looked at what was pushed out, patiently waiting for him to come snatch it up with a smile and nod to the workers before he left. Sometimes he’d even smile at her over the lid of his drink as he exited the establishment. It was warm and inviting and she felt good about the twinkle in his eye that never seemed to waver no matter the day.

Now they were going there together and she’d have to pretend like she’d never noticed what he got as a drink.

He responds to her question with another glance at her and a simple “yes”. His hands shove into his pockets and one side of his pink lips quirk up. He continues, “I’m on a local team with some mates. We’re in a little competition with our league. The final match is coming up this Sunday actually...You should come.”

He says it so casually it almost doesn’t catch her off guard. Harry inviting her to his football game, maybe this was going to be her life now. Going to her neighbours football match. Going to Harry Styles’ football match.

“Sunday…” She sounds out, choosing to look out into the distance instead of at him. “What time?”

“Eight.”

“P.M. right?” She responds quickly, worried since she never wakes up that early and rarely before 10 a.m. on the weekends for that matter.

“Of course,” he chuckles.

They’ve come upon the café and he’s quick to grab the handle to open the door and let her go before him. She can’t stop the blush and smile that spread on her face as she ducks her head into the warm and cozy shop. Men had opened doors for her before and she really thought of herself as a strong woman who didn’t need a man for anything, but something about Harry’s action felt especially, and specifically, chivalrous. Why, she had no idea.

Neither of them stop to look at the menu. They were regulars and they both knew that about each other as well. He gestures for her to go first and she mutters her thanks before turning to the patiently waiting barista. She orders and is about to hand over her card when Harry suavely steps in and says, “Don’t worry about it. I invited you with me, I’ll pay.”

It was both completely unexpected and expected at the same time. Knowing she’d never win this fight, she thanked him again, glanced at the man taking her order and then stepped aside. Harry orders his own drink and then pays for both. Today he leaves double the amount he usually leaves for tip, she assumes since it’s two drinks he was paying for.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know?” She says quietly to him once they’re in a corner of the café waiting for their drinks.

He stands slightly slumped against the wall, closer to her height right now. He only shrugs, his good natured smile not once leaving his face since he entered this place.

“I wanted to,” he said simply right as the drinks were ready since it wasn’t particularly busy on this random Friday afternoon.

They glance outside and see that it’s begun to drizzle while they’ve been inside. She sighs, having hoped to walk around a little after being inside all day.

Instead, they sit at the corner table in the café, across from each other. She moves on from the paying thing, knowing it was simply how this guy probably operated most of his life.

He got a black coffee today, the cold and rain likely contributing to that choice.

As one pop song fades out, slightly under the sound of the coffee machines, she’s about to tell Harry she’s pretty sure she can make his final football match when ‘Cardigan’ fades in. It’s the second time a Taylor Swift song has been playing while she’s been in the presence of Harry and they were conversing. She tries to ignore one of her favorite songs at the moment. Harry doesn’t seem to pay much mind to it. His foot is tapping against his other, but it’s been tapping like that since they sat down.

“I think I could probably make it to your game,” she says finally after a pause and a sip of her own drink.

Harry grins at the response and launches into how great it will be if they win and how happy everyone will be. She smiles along and doesn’t notice the slight head swaying to the song that she’s begun.

“Fan of Taylor?” Harry inquires and Y/N’s face drops, eyes widening cartoonishly.

She stutters, a nervous laugh leaving her mouth before she can actually say something. How does she respond about liking Taylor Swift to a man who counts her as an ex. She’s at a loss.

“Yeah, uh,” she finally starts.

Harry watches her curiously, obviously noticing her discomfort as his question.

“I used to not really consider myself a fan. I don’t really follow her just because I don’t really follow...um...musicians,” she chokes out the last word realizing Harry fits that category. “But, after folklore, I don’t know, this album really spoke to me. I also really like Lover and...uh” she pauses again, sticking on 1989, an album she has argued with her friends about how it’s basically a tell all of the man before her and Taylor’s relationship.

He nods, hoping she’ll continue. He wanted to get to know her and he kind of liked seeing her squirm. “1989?” He finally supplies.

Her blush isn’t able to be covered this time. If her hair didn’t fall in front of her ears she was sure they’d be flushed with blood.

Then she draws out of her own self stress and looks at the smooth man before her and grows calm. He was amazing at winding her up and she didn’t want to seem like some young, impressionable fangirl to him. So, she squared her shoulders and straightened up in her chair.

“Yes, it was pop perfection as one of my college friends liked to say. I’d always listen to it at the gym.” Then she pauses, taking a measured breath, gaining her confidence back. Her eyes meet his, “Is there any songs off it that you particularly enjoy, Mr. Styles.”

He chuckles, mostly because of her emphasis on ‘Style’.

“Shake it off?” He asks.

“Oh fuck off!” She laughs and he joins in with her.

When they catch their breaths from laughing, they simultaneously take sips of their drinks and settle their eyes back on one another. Exes and songs written about oneself weren’t exactly the topics Harry had in mind for the coffee outing he had asked Y/N out on, but talks of exes had never been this funny with anyone else. He was grateful for her playfulness, her demeanor.

“Can I ask you something personal?” She asks quietly and seriously.

“I think we’re past that question, love,” he responds.

“Yeah, I guess,” she pauses and just about whispers, “Pretty much all of them are about you right?”

He shrugs again, his felt coat rustling around his seat. “We never really talked about every single song.”

She leans forward at the ‘we’ Harry is using about himself and Taylor Swift.

“But when I listen to the songs, I hear us in just about every one but a few.”

“Wow,” she breathes and sips her drink. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lived through something that intense and then someone commemorated in a masterpiece.”

“Do you have a favorite on that album?” He asks, moving on from her revelation.

“I love ‘I know places’, it has a cool sound. But I also really love ‘Wonderland’. They both have kind of dark sounds, yet it still is like what you have is so special that the bad bits are worth it. I don’t know, it just seems like a tv show. I don’t think my life could ever be that crazy or dramatic.” She doesn’t notice her use of ‘you’ because she had meant it as a form of analyzing the song theoretically as she had done hundreds of times with her friends,  but this time the ‘you’ is literally the ‘you’ the song is talking about.

“Love can turn anyone’s life chaotic.” Harry muses.

The green eye’s that flashed at Taylor throughout that album look at Y/N from across the table and she feels a flip in her stomach at his tone.

Maybe he notices her mild discomfort, maybe that’s just who he is. But after a beat, Harry’s onto the next topic on his mind. He launches into how he’s just returned from Scotland for a shoot for something so undercover he can’t even divulge to her, much to his dismay. She’s taken aback since she didn’t consider her someone Harry would divulge any of his private matters to, but it seemed like he already considered her a confidant. Just not for that. He wants it to be a surprise.

She smiles and listens attentively. She wonders as he goes on about his interesting yet absurdly lavish life whether he even knows what regular life is like anymore. Or if he’d even enjoy it if he experienced it.

Sure, coffee and football were plenty part of regular life . But the football league was something novel to Harry. He had just gotten to do it and he was thrilled by its normalcy.

She regarded him carefully, unsure what the next step was in this budding friendship. Was it dangerous to get involved with someone’s life which seemed to be filled with whirlwind rigor and constant change.

She liked her chaos, don’t get her wrong. She felt like she often was the odd one out in life. Always thinking differently than the ones around her. She often was the one to suggest spontaneous late night trips around town or exploration of an abandoned building known for spooky stories. She liked inviting friends over for themed parties for no specific occasions and she liked taking film pictures of friends like they were models even though it was only for her and her memories. She thought of herself as silly and fun, but what Harry described as his chaotic fun actually was regimented tight schedules of constant travel and work. Interesting experiences came out of that constant travel and work, but didn’t seem like something she necessarily wanted to get herself wrapped up in.

After coffee, they leave the café and it’s pouring now. Instead of going home, Harry insists on walking her to her place. She relents, realizing, once again, that Harry wasn’t someone who took ‘no’ for an answer. She then invites him in because it’s the polite thing to do. And Harry being Harry accepts.

“Want a dry sweatshirt while you wait?” She asks as she slips off her wet shoes and jacket in the entryway. Harry follows suit, his knit sweater being pelted with rain for the last eight minutes left him feeling cold and shivery.

He nods as he toes off his shoes and ventures back to the living room she had him wait in a few hours ago.

“Here,” She says as she tosses a grey sweatshirt in his direction. She believes it's her one from earlier, an innocuous pullover with ‘London’ in collegiate lettering on the front. He catches it as she rounds the corner to turn up the heater.

Her mistake was being so careless to not look at the sweatshirt before handing it over to her neighbor. Anyone else, maybe they wouldn’t have questioned it. But Harry, how could he not.

“What’s this?”

“A sweatshirt,” she doesn’t spare him a glance on the coach as she fiddles with the thermostat.

“It’s one of my sweatshirts,” Harry says and she can hear the smile on his face.

“That’s impossible, I’ve never borrowed-” Her brows had raised at what he said but now her words fall short.

He didn’t mean one of his personal sweatshirts that she possibly borrowed if they were better friends. No. He meant his merchandise.

“It was a gift,” she sighs as she turns to face him. He’s now wearing the sweatshirt proudly and grinning up at her smugly.

She rolls her eyes when he gives her a knowing smile.

“I didn’t know that it was the one I was handing you. Honest!”

“I thought you didn’t “keep up” with musicians,” Harry says playfully, his fingers making quotes appropriately.

“I don’t.” Her tone is serious as she plops on the couch beside Harry.

“I enjoy your music from time to time. Is that a crime?!” She finally exclaims when she can’t handle Harry’s knowing smirk.

“No it’s not, you could have just told me you were a fan!” She tries to stop him and protest that she wouldn’t consider herself a fan, but he continues, “I still would have wanted to have been friends.You’re one of the liveliest neighbors I’ve got. Everyone else on the street is rather dull.”

She chuckles, remembering finding out quickly that the street wasn’t a lively bunch.  

“I just wouldn’t say I’m a fan,” she presses and sits across from him.

He continues smiling like he knows the truth.

“I don’t think you’ve met an average person in awhile, Harry.” She finally says after they sat in silence for a few minutes because they were both too stubborn to be the first to talk.

“I would hardly call you average if that’s what you’re implying, Y/N.” He nods her way and he shifts on her plush couch, his legs adjusting themselves on their own accord. “And I know plenty of average people,” he adds huffily.

“I normally wouldn’t either, but compared to who you seem to surround yourself, I very much am. And that’s not meant to be a jab at anyone involved.”

His right hand sneaks up to his head to scratch at the base of a particularly perfect curl. His eyes squint a bit as his mind processes her claim.

“What are you trying to say exactly?”

“I’m just curious to see if you’d actually like me in your life. It seems like you want to be friends with me and that’s great, but realistically I don’t know how much I would fit into it.”

Harry scoffs, “That’s literally bullshit, just relax. I’m so chill you won’t even know what to do with me.”

Now it’s her turn to scoff. “Chill?!” She asks incredulously. Harry nods with a seriousness she hadn’t seen before.

“When’s the next time you’re flying off to another country for work?”

Harry pauses, “Um...the day after the final match. I’m beginning to film a movie, so I’ll be there for a month.”

“Busy bee,” she muses and they both chuckle.

There’s something about the somber look Harry is giving her. His eyes twinkled in the coffee shop and with playful winks she was excited to be in his presence. But after she mentions when his next trip is, he seems saddened. There’s skepticism behind his eyes and maybe he doesn’t like being challenged about who he is from other people, especially those who are new in his life.

But that’s who Y/N is, she’s straightforward and doesn’t lie to someone. If Harry was now her friend, she was going to tell it like it is to him. That personality trait she worried wouldn’t make her long for his world.

“So the cardigan? Do you have it here?” Harry changes the subject, clearly not wanting to actually consider a realistic friendship together instead just charging ahead with no hesitation. Whatever happened they would deal with it as it came. Maybe she should just go with the flow, let herself be swept up into his madness. Maybe it would be easier than fighting it.

“No.”

“Oh?”

“I do, I was joking. Where else would it be?” Her tone is light, trying to get back the shine she had seen Harry exhibit before it had vanished.

Maybe that was Harry’s effect on people. He was vibrant and like an Elton John song. You never wanted that shine to go away, never wanted the song to end. Never wanted him to stop shining his light on you. She felt this happening in just a few hours with him. When he was happy so was she and when he wasn’t entirely shining she wanted to do whatever she could to get it back.

A smile curls on his face and his green eyes narrow slightly. He’s trying to figure her out, know what she’s all about.

“Do you want to go and grab it?” His voice sweetening, almost like a tease. Maybe he means to bite his lip, maybe he doesn’t, but the effect on her is nonetheless earthshaking.

She pops up and smiles back, happy to have made him happy. As she walks out of the room to go get the cardigan that had started this all, her head tilts and she furrows her brow wondering why she felt such a sense of pride just for making him happy.

Would this man cause her to finally put someone else’s wishes ahead of hers?

-

“Are you on your way?”

She listens to Harry’s slightly worried voice crackle over the speaker of her phone as she shuts her door with the hand not holding her phone to her ear. His voice is raspy and muffled. She assumes it’s from the cold air of London at night and the scarf he is likely got wrapped around his neck.

“Yes! Jeez, I’m on my way. Walking over right now.”

It’s the final match for Harry’s football team and if they win the game then they get a trophy and it’s all Harry has been talking about since they got coffee and she handed over her cardigan.

Harry huffed an “alright” on the other side of the line and she called a “see you soon” before hanging up.

He was both eager for Y/N to come and possibly meet some of his teammates and a few of his close friends who he had invited and for her to arrive so that she wasn’t walking out late at night alone. He hadn’t known her for long, but he felt a certain protectiveness over her. She was relatively alone here, only two friends at work that she had mentioned and everyone else lived far away. She said she didn’t mind it, but Harry had a hard time understanding it since he surrounded himself with his friends as much as he could and was constantly either traveling or having them travel to see him.

He had even contemplated inviting her to come to Los Angeles with him for a month, but knew she would remind him of her ever important job that she couldn’t just randomly take a month off.

He’d have to ask her what exactly she did because every time he tried to remember, it always slipped his mind.

When her figure came into sight below the fluorescent lights, he breathed a sigh of relief. A grin spread on his face as she beamed at him and waved a bit. He didn’t understand how she couldn’t see how special she was. Every time he saw her he felt himself straighten up and feel a bubbling in his chest. Her smile was infectious and the way her eyes glittered when she looked away quickly and then returned eye contact made him want to stay in her presence forever.

“You made it!” Harry said and scooped her up in his arms, not realizing just how happy he was to see her, swinging her around in a half circle.

She laughs in surprise, but appreciates the warmth Harry’s hug offers her. She’s not quite sure they had ever touched each other before this moment beside shoulder brushes and hand touches. Nothing so...purposeful.

“I made it,” she confirms and pats him on his broad shoulders.

Questions in her mind raced as she questioned whether it was normal for friendships to happen like this. She knew in college friendships could happen this quickly. And that’s when it dawned on her, she really hadn’t made a new friend since college and that was why everything with Harry was so odd to her. She had forgotten what new friendship was. She needed to stop questioning everything and just live in the moment with a person she really liked being with.

Harry’s hands move from her waist and one stays to lead her forward so he can introduce her to some of his mates, as he had promised.

She felt at home in that moment. His hand on the small of her back, his heat radiating off of him and her hair swept behind her ears and her cheek pressed to his shoulder staring up at him sweetly.

She meets Charlotte, a member of Harry’s band who lives in London, her boyfriend, Mitch (who had just happened to find himself in Hampstead this weekend), Ben, and a few more people she couldn’t remember all the names of.

Harry’s team wins the game and Y/N’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so happy to win an adult league football match. There wasn’t any official trophy except the one Harry had made himself and said he would even give to the other team if they won. It was engraved with the words “The World’s Greatest Football Team of Stars Ever. October 22, 2020”. It doesn’t even make sense but she’d been holding it for the entire night as he played.

He goes down the line of his friends who have been watching and gives them all jubilant kisses on the lips. When he reaches Y/N she holds out the trophy and he grins and gives her a kiss on the cheek. His lips are surprisingly soft and his scratchy stubble tickles her and she swiftly pulls back, a smile on her face and blush on her cheeks nonetheless.

Charlotte and Mitch share a look between the two of them and Ben’s eyes narrow slightly at the interaction. His eyes narrow just as they had when Harry had strutted over to the group with Y/N before the game. He had happily named everyone and she had shaken all of their hands with a warm smile on her lips. Ben had regarded her warily and she had shaken it off as the chill of the night air. But there it was again, not quite trusting of the neighbour girl Harry had just randomly befriended a few days ago.

The team and the friends of the team decide they deserve to celebrate this win, mostly at the request of Harry.

Y/N tries to find a time to leave, to return to her place so she can prepare for her day at work tomorrow. But no excuses will be heard from Harry and she has a hard time saying no to his sparkling eyes and gorgeous grin that she’s growing far too accustomed to.

She’s ushered down to the closest pub with the rest of them and finds herself chatting with Charlotte’s boyfriend. He’s the most...normal. She’s not sure how to explain it, but he doesn’t seem to be regarding her as different, unlike every other one of Harry’s friends. They were all perfectly nice and cordial with her, but she just felt like she wasn’t a part of their group, their world and she didn’t know how to explain it.

Charlotte and Mitch are rather nice too, but they’re more reserved with her. They’re musicians, like Harry, and they somewhat have that air of awareness around them that Harry sometimes gets. She thinks it’s from the fame, having to constantly be wary of who is around you, what everyone is doing, what is happening next. She doesn’t mind it, it’s just not something she’s used to.

She wishes she could just throw back some drinks and she could allow herself to be more...well just be more. More of a presence, more of herself, but she has a job she has to get to bright and early. Tomorrow was Monday and for her that meant work. So she sips a beer that Harry insisted be on his tab and she makes small talk with Charlotte’s boyfriend about how he’s been helping her produce her first EP. Charlotte occasionally pops in when she hears her name, but mostly is conversing with Mitch over something silly. Y/N knows because they keep laughing.  

Harry is going around to just about everyone in the party and she watches as he happily talks with every one of his friends. He’s ecstatic and she wonders if she’s ever experienced happiness like he has.

At midnight she attempts to make a French exit, as her mother always called it, and slip away with little to no farewells, but Harry spots her before she can.

“You’re leaving already?” Harry asks loudly, the euphoria of winning his silly little game and drinking a fair amount of pints has him at his peak boisterity.

“I have work tomorrow,” she says warily, slumping slightly from the weight of Harry’s arm slinging around her shoulder.

He turns serious and straightens up slightly, his green eyes looking especially dark in the pubs dim lighting as they look her dead in the eye. “Let me walk you home.”

“I can get home by myself,” she laughs, shrugging off his hold. “Plus, the host can’t leave his own celebration.” She gestures to everyone else happily celebrating on a Sunday, somehow not bothered by the beginning of the average week.

He steps closer, his brow furrowing for the first time that night. One of his large hands raises to his tousled hair and he runs it through the tresses. He even nibbles at his lower lip as he contemplates his decision. Then quickly and suddenly, he makes up his mind,

“No, I’ll escort you. Can’t have my neighbour walk home this late alone. I’ll just leave my card with Mitch. He’ll settle up the tab.” He smiles at his perfect plan and she grimaces feeling slightly embarrassed that he would leave his friends to walk her home. “Won’t you Mitch?” Harry calls as he grabs his coat from the wall next to the door. Mitch simply nods and Harry yells his farewells, Y/N waves meekly.

“That was...interesting,” she mulls over her words as they walk through the cold night air outside of the pub.

“Amazing, right?” Harry speaks over her less enthusiastic voice.

“You have a lot of friends,” she mused, trying to sound less disheartened than she had in her last statement.

Harry only hums and shivers slightly from the cold. His breath comes clearly out in puffs in the cold night air. Y/N’s is muffled by her scarf wrapped tightly up to her chin. She’s tucked his face as far into it as possible but her nose won’t stop from freezing as they walk.

Her hand goes up to it and she rests her palm to the tip of it. The motion grabs Harry’s attention and he looks directly at her curiously.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m freezing,” she muffles out, “This helps my cold nose not be so..cold.”

He chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulder and she easily folds into him, welcoming any warmth right now.

After another moment of silence and them enjoying each other’s warmth and slight smell of whatever perfumes they had chosen earlier that night as well as beer and wood of the pub, Harry nuzzles his head above hers and then asks her something.

“Was that overwhelming for you?”

She’s quiet, thankful his eyes can’t reach hers right now. He was too powerful with those things.

“I, um, a little. I just...I just realized today that I haven’t made a new friend since college outside of work and it was overwhelming just hanging out with you. So all of your friends as well, yeah, it was a bit much for me.”

Harry looks out at the empty street ahead of them and sighs in realization. In his excitement, he hadn’t accounted how she might have felt tonight until just now. He wanted to kick himself for not thinking of her feelings, but other’s feelings slipped his mind so easily sometimes.

They round their street corner and she nuzzles back into his side.

“I’m sorry, love.” He rubs at her outer arm, “I didn’t think about it like that. I was just so excited for my plan to come together. Maybe next time, it’ll just be a couple of them rather than so many?”

“Sure,” she says quickly, wanting to make him happy, knowing how much he cared about his friends. “I feel like we need to hang out more with just you before I osmos into your friend group though if I’m being honest.”

“Well that can definitely be arranged,” he says and reluctantly lets go of her body. They’ve arrived at her door.

“I also want to see the inside of your house at some point.” She tugs at one of his hands before it can disappear into his warm coat pocket. “Houses,” she corrects.

“That can also be arranged,” Harry smiles with his lips closed. Pink lips and rosy cheeks extra bright from the cold. He plays with her fingers as the two stand close to one another, happy for the alone time and chalking the proximity up to heat sharing.

“You leave tomorrow right?” She finally asks.

His head falls and he sighs.

“Yeah…”

“It’s just a month,” she smiles, trying to stop Harry from being so dramatic. Especially when there was no logical reason for him to be so upset over not seeing his neighbour - she keeps telling herself.

“Are you sure you can’t quit your job and just fly out with me?” He pleads.

She throws her head back in laughter and shifts closer to him, her front porch light illuminating and shadowing every perfect place on Harry’s gorgeous face.

“Not even a chance.”

“That is a shame,” he takes an experimental step closer and she feels his breath fan across her cheeks at his last word.

She wrinkles his nose at the smell of his last beer, even though coming from him it was endearing.

Just as she feels him being to shift his head closer, she steps forward and gives him a tight hug.

“Goodnight Harry,” she whispers into his ear, “Safe travels.”

Then she’s stepping back and swiftly unlocking her door. She moves it slowly so as to not wake Rori and then Harry’s left alone and dumbfounded on her doorstep.

He definitely preferred being with her alone, but now he didn’t even have that chance until next month. And nonetheless she had just sidestepped his kiss with such ease he’s not even sure if he meant to kiss her. It had felt right, but why? Because it was cold and picture perfect? Or because he was enchanted by her and liked her as more than a new friend?

She slumps in her kitchen and fixes an Emergen-C to stave off the chill of the night and any germs that might have been lurking around the pub. She hopes when she walks to her bedroom she can check the front porch and see that Harry has gone home because she would hate to turn the light off on him.

How could he have expected her to kiss him just then? They’ve only just met each other a few weeks ago? And he’s Harry Styles and she just lives in the neighbourhood. What the actual fuck had happened to her life?

[rawliverandcigarettes]

I have finally finished this very short character exploration for Jacob! It's not much, but I think I like it.

Thanks to @neonbutchery for the beta reading!!

You can read it on Ao3, or under the cut!

LETTER TO MY SON

(Character Study | Second Person Referral | Jacob PoV | Semi-Compliant Canon | Past Shepard/Jacob Taylor | Jacob Has Cheated | Newborn Children | Generational Trauma | A Very Light Touch of Past Suicidal Thoughts | Parenthood | The Baby Is Born Before the Battle of London)

You know what’s weird? I didn’t feel much when I saw you for the first time.

I don’t know why I expected to cry. Never been the effusive kind –never been one to invest tears in a cause, no matter how precious. Not how I operate. You’ll learn this about me, in time.

But what the hell, I thought I’d cry because you deserve to see me cry. You deserve to look upon my face, for the very first time, and understand how much you matter. Not just to me –I refuse to play that game with you, that game where your value stays relative to how important I decide you’ll be at any given point. You’re important, because to love you is to deny the world its cynicism, its cry for collapse. Because you’ll be so much, or so little; you’ll just be. You don’t need a reason to be important.

I guess it’s something a death machine could never understand.

Your mom loves you too. She didn’t cry either: she laughed, once she was done screaming. She laughed because she saw my face, and I think she saw the dread that cut my breath off and left my hands shaking. I didn’t realize at the time just how terrified I was. But I don’t know, I might love your mom because she stubbornly refuses to be afraid of me, that I couldn’t stand to hold something as fragile as you, so dependent on my own strength –that I’ll be too scared of my understanding of attachment, presence, authority, and would rather run than ruin you. But she laughed, because she isn’t afraid of the ghosts in my veins, like I am.

She chose to believe I’ll stay. And I chose to believe her.

She’s a smart woman, your mom. Doctor Cole –doesn’t it have a great ring to it? I like pragmatic girls. Brynn told me she carried you in her the second she knew. She held my hand, held my eyes: what do we do? she asked. I think we both knew it wasn’t wise, to raise a child in the apocalypse; potentially to force that child to watch the world ending only so we could have our last burst of joy, and use you as relief from the nightmare no matter what that would do to you. Besides the philosophical concerns, which were more her thing than mine (at least in the beginning), there was the material cost. Could we feed you? Could we keep you warm? Could we promise you that we’d survive the war, stay by your side no matter what, cradle you to sleep when you’d be afraid –because you will be afraid?

No. We could not promise you this. We won’t promise you that we won’t die, that you won’t resent our choice in time. I can’t control this. Maybe this is why my first instinct was fear: I can’t promise you that I won’t leave you behind to deal with chaos beyond what any of us could possibly understand.

But what I can promise is: I will fight for your right to live.

It’s difficult, to figure out when fighting is fleeing, when fighting is devotion, and when fighting is love. Maybe it’s just more difficult for me. The woman I left for your mom, she always seems to know when to fight, what for; grounded and solid in a way that, I think, I could never completely trust. Not that she’s a bad person, far from it. She did hate me for abandoning her though, especially with the entire universe resting on her reconstructed shoulders, restitched from dead pieces we had to pretend were always meant to stay alive.

But here’s the thing: we both were in the death cult. We met in the death cult, kissed in the death cult before flinging ourselves inside of a black hole –and survived it on borrowed time. Both her and me? We’ve been in the death cult all of our lives.

Now, I like a pragmatic girl, right? Shepard fights like she breathes, because that’s why she breathes. They gifted her life back, only so she could burn it again, and again, and again. I watched her body forced back to motion, I watched the scar tissue from the exposure to the vacuum of space –they made her come back regardless. And she agreed to fight, because she can’t do anything but thoroughly offer herself up to others. She will never stop killing herself. She will never leave the cult.

I think Shepard fights for devotion, fights to flee, and fights for love. But the death cult rules her: Cerberus, the Alliance, call it whatever you want. It ruled my own father as well –though my father never fought for love, and I learned that in time, bitterly. And well, it ruled me. Disappearing seemed inevitable. Absence is only complicated for those left behind. My father made sure that I understood this; and when he reappeared? He had taught me about the mantras of the death cult, through presence and absence. And when I met him again, all I could think about was: all of the garbage I went through, willingly... for this?

Maybe this was the first thing that shocked me off my numbness.

Maybe this is why I survived a planned suicide as I willingly followed Shepard into hell.

And Shepard will keep on fighting the selfless fight, the fight of the desperate. And if we survive the end of the world, it will be because of the blood she spills: her own, and everyone elses.

Maybe that’s why I hated Brynn’s idea to give you her name. Not only does Shepard hate me for abandoning both her and the love she thinks she could have given me –but I don’t want you to die for anyone but yourself.

Brynn was in the death cult, too. But she was a skeptic. Scientists tend to live less miserable lives than soldiers: we are told to die for the survival of others, while they are told to live for the sake of nurturing wonder. It didn’t take her much to disentangle me from the little threads still holding me down –barely escaping the clutch of a suicide mission will have you resort your priorities.

I think that, through you, Brynn wants to teach me how to nurture wonder.

You were not born out of selflessness. Sentient creatures are not selfless; this is why we’re sentient. But I have killed for so long. I have compromised myself for ideas that were not worth the pain. But now, here you are.

I won’t fight to hide. I won’t fight at all, if you don’t want me to.

I don’t know if this is how we win against the apocalypse. I don’t know if that yearning for hope is good enough of an excuse. I don’t know if I get to leave the death cult without being haunted by what it might cost you, one day.

All I know is: I’ll be selfishly alive, for as long as I can handle it.

And I will not leave you.

[on-maars]

Another Place

Literally I haven’t been able to stop screaming since ep2 came out and I needed to write something

Read on AO3

Bobby is halfway through the third part of The Outsider when he hears a sharp noise followed by a curse coming from the fire station's kitchen. He sits up straight on his chair and even though the voice comes as a whisper, the door to his office is still ajar and Bobby can recognize some Spanish he learned back when he was in high-school.

It’s Eddie then, who always tends to resort to Spanish when he wants to curse or complain about something to himself.

Bobby puts down his book on his desk, stands up and opens his office door a bit wider so he can take a few steps inside the kitchen. The room is plunged into darkness but Bobby can still catch sight of Eddie’s silhouette, standing in front of a box of herbal tea, his eyebrows furrowed, as if he’s currently facing the most complicated dilemma of his entire life.

“Can’t sleep?” Bobby asks and makes Eddie jump with surprise, letting go of the mug he was holding in his right hand. And Bobby might be over 40 but his reflexes are still good and he managed to catch it before it breaks on the floor.

“Shit Bobby, you scared the hell out of me. Thought I was the only one awake.” Eddie says but his voice seems sad, almost dejected.

“Nightmares?” Bobby asks. After all, Eddie’s been through a lot for the past few months, it would only makes sense for his sleep to still be haunted by the memories of the shooting.

“More like insomnia.” Eddie corrects him, his eyes still down. “There’s just stuff I can’t get out of my head, you know.”

“Stuff about the shooting?” Bobby says calmly, but that’s enough for Eddie’s face to wince in pain.

“Among other things.”

“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch and let me take care of it?” He offers. Eddie’s hand stops in mid air and his shoulders eventually slumped as his heads nods, retreating back from the kitchen with a heavy step.

Bobby fills the kettle with water and turns it on before opening the box of herbal tea still on the counter. It’s an old box, supposed to help you sleep, one of those things he brought from home a few years ago when he realized it wasn’t much use back there. He places the tea bag in the mug, opens the drawer to grab a spoon and half a sugar cube. His movements are robotic, like he’s done that a thousand times in the past. And he did, back when his nights were filled with nightmares.

He lets out a sigh and leans against the fridge, looking at Eddie out of the corner of the eye. He’s seated on the armchair, his eyes fixed on the ground, the same haunted look Bobby saw him with a few times already during this past few weeks.

The light turns off on the kettle, and Bobby pours the water in the mug, before making his way towards the ‘living room’ area where he places the tray on the coffee table.

“Wanna talk about it?” Bobby asks as he takes on the seat on the couch.

“It’s just-” Eddie starts but marks a pause, like he’s not sure how to say the next few words. “Just stuff I- I try very hard not to think about. Or just bury- bury somewhere in my brain but-”

“It keeps coming back?” Bobby offers and smiles when Eddie just nods quietly as he takes a sip of his herbal tea. “Does it have anything to do with your panic attacks?”

Eddie’s mouth turns up at the edges but he presses his lips together in a straight line just as fast.

“How do you know about them?” Eddie asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

“I have my ways.” Bobby answers with a hint of amusement.

“Let me guess.” Eddie starts. “Buck?” And even though the words come out as a question, Bobby knows there’s no real need to answer. He still nods though, and smiles when Eddie rolls his eyes with a fond expression. “They were because of Ana.”

“The panic attacks?” Bobby asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. “Were?” He adds. “You don’t have them anymore?”

“No.” Eddie shakes his head. “We broke up.” He adds. “I was trying to make it work for Christopher’s sake. Thought he loved her. And he liked her okay but turns out he was only going along with it because he thought she made me happy.” Eddie tells him, a sad laugh escaping his lips.

“And she didn’t?” Bobby encourages him. “Make you happy, that is.”

Eddie opens his mouth like he wants to say something but stops himself from doing so the next second. There’s a small silence after that. Eddie’s eyes are staring into space, his forehead wrinkled in concern, like he’s hopping that if he thinks about it long enough, an answer is going to magically appear in front of him.

“It was nice.” He starts and Bobby raises his eyebrows, unimpressed. “It just wasn’t working.” Eddie adds. “Couldn’t have worked.” He precises. “Not when I-” He marks a pause again, and closes his eyes while pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his index. “I guess my heart just wasn’t in it.”

Bobby says nothing for a while. He just smiles. Because he knows where Eddie drives at. It’s been a long time coming, after all. All the looks, the soft glances, the sweet gestures. All the signs were there, and they were clear. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that what these two shared went beyond friendship.

“Have you talked to Buck about it, Eddie?” Bobby asks, his voice gentle.

Eddie flushes, and looks away. Because Bobby’s not only asking him if he talked to Buck about his break-up with Ana. No, in fact he’s asking a lot more than just that. And Eddie knows it. He’s just not sure he’s ready to go there.

“I... I did.” Eddie says, and closes his eyes again. “I mean I- I told him about Ana but I think he knows that… That it’s not only about the break up.” He adds. “It’s never been only about the break up, Bobby.” He admits. “It’s never been only about Ana.”

“I know.” Bobby smiles.

“He broke up with Taylor.” Eddie blurts out and Bobby’s not one to gossip about other people’s relationship because, ultimately, that’s their business and he’d hate to interfere with any of that. But as he sits there on that couch, watching Eddie, there’s only one thing that comes to his mind.

Freaking finally.

“So the ball’s in your court now, isn’t it?” Bobby asks.

“I guess it is, yeah.” Eddie answers, darting his eyes towards him before looking away just as fast. “And you know I was- I was waiting for the right time but…”

Bobby’s mouth turns up at the edges once again.

“I’m just so freaking tired of waiting, Cap.” Eddie finally says, and one of these rare soft smiles only reserved to Buck breaks in on his face. “I- I want this. Us.”

“I think everyone’s tired of waiting, Eddie.” Bobby remarks with a hint of amusement in his voice. “Tell him.” He adds. “After all we both know how he’s gonna react.”

“It’s- it’s gonna be good, right?” Eddie asks, his voice uncertain, a part of him still doubting. Bobby rolls his eyes and lets out a small laugh.

“Eddie, it’s Buck.” He reminds him. “He’s gonna be like a kid on Christmas morning.” He adds. “That boy loves you two to the moon and back.”

And, as if summoned, Buck chooses this moment to appear on top of the stairs, his eyes sleepy and his hair disheveled making his blond curls go in every direction. Bobby watches him as he shuffles towards them, and doesn’t miss the way his eyes light up when they fall on Eddie.

“Hey Eds.” He says, his voice soft, taking a seat on the arm of the chair Eddie's seated on. “You okay? I woke up and you- well you weren’t on your bunk.”

Bobby gives Eddie a knowing look and stands up, retreating back in his office once again, only this time he makes sure to lock the door behind him. He can still hear the muffled words coming from the living-room but nothing he can actually make sense of.

He lets his back rest on the backrest of his chair and goes back to his reading. It’s almost five in the morning now, and Bobby doesn’t see the appeal of trying to get a few hours sleep, especially now that they’ve been unbothered by any calls for a bit more than two hours. It’s certainly not going to last forever.

He finds himself so engrossed in his reading that the next thing he knows, a bit more than half an hour has passed and the kitchen is now dead quiet. The first sunbeams light up the fire station and Bobby decides that now is as good a time as any to start on breakfast.

Only, what he sees when he goes back inside the kitchen makes him stop in his tracks and smiles. Because there they are passed out on the couch, their legs intertwined and Eddie’s head pressed on the other’s chest while Buck has wrapped his left arm around Eddie’s waist while his right hand is buried in his black hair.

“Oh god.” He can hear Hen say from the top of the stairs. “Is this really happening?” She asks and Bobby only chuckles while shaking his head in disbelief.

“I guess it is.” He says.

“Holy shit.” This time, it’s Chimney’s turn to curse. “I’m calling Maddie.” He adds.

“Chim, it’s 5am.” Hen remarks.

“Oh trust me if I wait any longer I think she’ll punch me.”

“I’m taking a picture for the group-chat.” Ravi intervenes behind Chimney and Bobby only watches them from the kitchen with an amused smile.

“Guys come on, let them sleep for a while okay? They deserve it.”

“We’re not sleeping.” Buck’s voice comes from behind the couch. Bobby can’t see him but he can only picture the exasperated expression on his face.

“Not anymore.” Eddie adds.

Bobby rolls his eyes and turns his back on them to face the oven while chaos suddenly erupts in the fire station.

With a sigh and an amused smile, he starts on breakfast.

[ellayuki]

19042022 - 9-1-1

Spoilers for 5x14!

~

For all that he’s feeling wrung out and half-dead inside, Eddie teases Buck about hanging his heart drawing on the fridge, if nothing else than so he can see the way his best friend's ears go red with embarrassment. 

"I misunderstood the assignment," Buck had said, a little flustered, and Eddie is amused and hopelessly endeared, and sue him, it’s a little bit of light in his otherwise dreary life. The heart is so goofy, colourful and smiley-faced and so very Buck, that Eddie can't ever see himself throwing it away.

So, he teases. Just a little bit (just enough for a tiny portion of his exhaustion to lift from his shoulders, maybe). Says “You should sign it so people will know who made this masterpiece.” 

Buck just sticks his tongue out at him, pretends to be offended, and continues to put away the rest of Christopher’s things like it’s second nature. 

(And maybe it is, Eddie thinks.)

But in the end, after Buck leaves (goes home to Taylor, Eddie needs to remind himself, because Buck has his own apartment and his girlfriend, and doesn't actually live with Eddie and Chris, for all that he'd seemed to have moved in full time for the past few days), the drawing gets carefully folded by gentle, if trembling fingers, and is tucked away in Eddie's bedside drawer.

[comfort-charrie-berry]

I Owe You. Chapter 6: Moral of the story (Lifeline)

This is the last written chapter I have. I'm either going to continue this, or start something new that works with the events of BYiT.

Either way, thank you all for reading, liking, and reblogging!

Word count: 1,154

Trigger warnings: Mention of a dead parent, and general angst.

I remember them shutting the doors in my face. They called me crazy. They said I was a college student who’d pulled too many all nighters and began to see things. They didn’t believe a single word. 

I banged on the door, screaming. Trying to get them to just LISTEN. To understand. 

He is real. 

I did pick up a S.O.S. signal.

And he needs help. 

Please just help him. Because I don’t trust myself enough to. 

Security escorted me off the premises. 

I tried every possible option to get their attention. Get them to believe me. 

Finally they deemed me unstable. 

I lost my tuition at school. Which I was failing anyway because I wouldn’t leave my apartment in fear of missing one of Taylor’s desperate calls for help and company. 

All I had left was this apartment. This apartment and my father’s ashes. 

And the last of our money. Which wasn’t much. But enough for me to stay at a shabby apartment. And enough to buy me enough food to survive. 

Taylor sat on the couch, listening. 

“The only thing that kept me sane was you. You were the only thing I had. Or, have. I guess.” 

I sighed and pointed to the urn sitting on my shelves. “Just you and Dad.” 

Taylor glanced over at it. “Hey Dad.” 

I chuckled. “He says hi back.” 

He turned back to me and met my gaze. 

“So you, sacrificed everything, to keep me alive.” 

“Yeah. But, you’re alive.” I patted his knee. “And that’s all that matters to me.” 

Taylor fidgeted with one of the buttons on his collar. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you. I cannot begin to tell you the amount of emotions that hit me when you responded to my signal. Someone could hear me. Someone was there. Someone kind.” 

“Someone cared.” I whispered. 

“Yeah.” 

The neighbor in the apartment over turned on his music and turned the volume up. 

I groaned and leaned against the couch. “Here we go again.” 

Taylor glanced at the wall the music was blaring through. “Well you have hospitable neighbors.”

“I’ll be honest with you, I think I’m the only one here without a criminal record or a punk band.” 

The music somehow got louder and I put my hands over my ears. 

Taylor put a hand on my shoulder. “This is no place for someone like you to- that’s it!” 

He stood up and banged on the wall. “Knock it off!!! Some people have more important things going on!!” 

They of course didn’t hear him over the blaring rock solo. 

Taylor rolled his eyes and came back to the couch where I was now lying down, trying to block out the noise. 

He sat beside me and put the blanket over me. He was still a few seconds. Then he reached down and started rubbing my back. I sighed and a smile lit up my face. 

Taylor leaned down and whispered in my ear. “I got you, lifeline.” 

-=-=-=-

There was a heavy knock on the door. 

I tried to sit up but I realized Taylor’s head was resting on my side, fast asleep. 

The knock sounded again. 

I shook Taylor awake and pushed him away to stand up. 

He shook his head and looked over at me. “The music stopped.” 

“There’s someone at the door.” I whispered. 

Taylor came to attention and watched me go to the door. I ran my hands through my hair a few times and opened it. 

A man in a government uniform push inside. I gasped and felt anger boil in me. “Excuse me?! What on ear-“ 

“Cadet Taylor.” He ordered. With those words I watched Taylor’s body freeze and panic a moment, but he stood up and walked over. “Yes?” 

“We need you at the base. They still have questions for you.”

Taylor shook his head slightly and stepped back. I moved in front of him. “Hang on. He’s not your property! You can’t tell him what to do!” 

The soldier furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry ma’am but he needs to come with us.” 

“Oh now you want him! Now you want to hear what he has to say! How fitting is that!” I grit my teeth and shook my head. “You didn’t seem to care when I came to you! If you’d have listened, he wouldn’t have been through all he’s been through and you guys wouldn’t have to ask questions!” I pointed to the door. “Get out of my apartment. Now.” 

The guard ignored me and looked at Taylor. “They need you. Come along.” He turned to the door and then looked back. Taylor hadn’t moved. “I’m not coming with you. I’m staying here.” He walked to me and took my arm. “With her.” 

The guard opened his mouth but Taylor cut him off. “If you need answers, bring the scientists here. They can ask me here, but more importantly, they can ask her. Because she was there every step of the way with me. Even when you professionals weren’t. So come to me. I won’t come to you. We owe you nothing.” 

The guard went silent. And then turned to leave. “Stubborn child.” 

“Hey!” Taylor called after him. “And another thing? When those bratty scientists do come? I won’t give them any information until they apologize to her and give her back her scholarship.” 

My eyes widened and I looked at him. Taylor’s face was red in anger and his eyes were misty. 

The guard left without a word. Once the door shut Taylor’s tough guy act faded and he shook his head. “Oh gosh.” 

I turned to him. “Taylor, are you okay?” 

He nodded and looked at me. “Are you?” 

My eyes filled with tears and I hugged him. “Thank you, Taylor.” 

His entire body stiffened at the contact but he returned the hug. “Of course. You didn’t deserve any of this. And I am so sorry fate made the signal come to you.” 

I shook my head. “No. Don’t apologize. It isn’t your fault.” 

We pulled away a little and locked eyes. Things fell silent and I began to feel a hint of tension. To avoid it, I pulled away and walked into the kitchen area. “We should probably eat.” 

He took a moment before nodding. “Yeah. What are we going to have?” 

The fridge wasn’t well stocked. And my cupboards weren’t too full either. I gestured to it all. “Take your pick.” 

He walked over and scanned his options. “I mean. Anything is better than freeze dried space food.”

“Do you want a baked potato?” I asked as my eyes fell on the bag of potatoes on the counter. 

“Yeah. That’ll work fine!” 

I turned the oven on and popped them in to heat up.

Then we both sat down on the couch. And waited for our food or a visit from our enemy. Whichever came first.