#i’m on holiday with my family and 8 out of 11 of us are girls
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maybe i’m just surrounded by autistic male family members, but i find it soooo much better socially to hang out and chat with boys. i’m gonna sound like such a pick me, but i get mega autism tired after chatting/gossiping/fangirling/etc with a girl because i feel like there’s a certain way to respond to things. on the contrast, my deepest connections and best conversations have been with women, but generally, i feel like i can just do and say whatever with male friends but i have to adhere to certain social rules with female friends. is this the same for other afab autistics?
#for context#i’m on holiday with my family and 8 out of 11 of us are girls#and i’ve felt less tired and drained after a small chat with my male counterparts than i do with my female counterparts#it doesn’t help that like 90% of my male family members are (likely) autistic (my head cannon)#whereas only 1 other female family member is neurodivergent#so maybe i’m biased biologically cuz of the people im surrounded by#but sometimes men are boring and i abhor them for little reason#idk#personal#social#my posts#autism
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Ask Ben Solo
What’s up, HoloNet! The name’s Ben. Currently 23 years old. I’m the only son of an Alderaanian princess and a Corellian scoundrel, and I have an adopted sister named Rey.
I started this blog when I was fifteen and afraid of becoming a Jedi. To make things worse, I started hearing voices in my head…voices that turned out to be someone who wanted to control me. Luckily, my friends and family got involved, and Snoke seems to have backed off.
I did make friends with some of Uncle Luke’s Jedi students, but I ended up attending the University of Naboo (Go Shaaks!) and got my degree in Journalism, since I’ve always been interested in writing, history, and politics. (Scroll back enough, and you’ll see my cringe pro-Imperial phase from back in the day. Yikes.)
I stayed on Naboo after graduation, and now I write for The Chommell Sector Daily. In my free time I lift weights, write poetry, and fight with people online.
Ask me a question!
—Ben
All Posts in Chronological Order
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Run by @luke-shywalker Est. 2016
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(Their blogs are dead because they're lame, but maybe if we bother them enough they'll come back)
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Inktober 2016
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Family
Mom: My mother, also known as Senator Leia Organa, also known as Space Mom, also known as Don't Mess With Her. Tough as nails. Also has nice nails.
Dad: My father, also known as Han Solo (or scruffy-looking nerfherder). Isn’t as cool as you think he is, but makes up for it with heart.
Rey: My adopted sister, also known as "Kid". Ten years younger than me. Originally from Jakku. Eats faster than anyone I’ve ever seen.
Uncle Luke: My uncle, also known as Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. Is a cinnamon roll.
Ren the Bantha of Indeterminate Gender or Origin: My stuffed bantha friend. Not much can be known about this humble beast, but they are fiercely loyal.
Threepio: My mom's protocol droid. Has foregone enough memory wipes to pass as sentient. Best ignored.
Artoo: Luke’s beeping trash can. Extremely rude.
Chewie: My dad’s best pal. Gives great hugs. Don’t play holochess with him.
Lumpy: Chewie’s son. About my age in Wookiee years.
Darth Vader: My grandfather. It's complicated.
Friends
Fannie: One of Luke's Jedi students, who has since graduated. Twi'lek. My bestie when we were teens. Mom friend.
Amalia: One of Luke's Jedi students, who has since dropped out. Massive Togruta girl. Frenemy.
Treeso: My roommate from college. Gungan. Solid dude.
Sweeper: My archnemesis: the cleaning droid at work that keeps eating my paper notes.
Ugly Raisin Men Who Have Invaded My Mind With the Force
Snoke: Enough said.
Story Events
The Long Night: (2/25/16 - 4/2/16) In which I woke up from a nightmare and couldn’t sleep.
Space Braces: (5/16/16 - 12/7/2017) In which I got braces.
Get Out of My Head: (8/4/16 - 8/28/16) In which Mom left for a diplomatic mission and left me at home with my dad, and I was consumed by fear and darkness.
The Visit: (10/6/16 - 11/5/16) In which Uncle Luke came to visit us.
Sixteen!: (12/3/16 - 12/11/16) In which I turned sixteen.
Life Day 21 ABY: (12/25/16 - 12/26/16) Life Day!
The Impending Future: (9/10/17 - 9/29/17) In which I had an existential crisis about Mom wanting me to become a Jedi, and I discovered Snoke.
Seventeen!: (12/3/17 - 12/11/17) In which I turned seventeen.
Life Day 22 ABY: (12/25/17 - 12/26/17) Life Day!
A Week With Luke: (12/21/17 - 1/7/18) In which my mom made me spend a week at Luke’s Jedi school.
An Awkward Situation: (4/26/18 - 7/15/18) In which I thought my best friend Fannie was going to ask me out. Like, on a date.
About Amalia: (7/16/18 - 8/7/18) In which I accidentally started a chain of rumors about Amalia, Luke’s mysterious and hardest-to-get-along-with student.
The New Roommate: (4/24/24 - current) In which my roommate Treeso moves out and I have to find someone to take over his lease.
Recurring Tags Below
#but mom what if i don’t want to be a jedi#fear is the path to the dark side#adventures in puberty#ace in space#baby ben#ben's philosophy#the potato joke#sleep#therapy#voices#the force#hair#calligraphy#mental health#jedi school#droids#university of naboo#naboo#the chommsec daily#adulthood#gaya#space discourse#daddy's boy#mommy's boy#the knights#deirak#char#kiran#the falcon#ben solo
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Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics that both have A/B/O dynamics and are soft and fluffy! If you enjoy our rec lists and would like them to continue, please like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!
1) Seven, Seven | Not Rated | 1,877 words
“Hello, baby girl,” Harry says as soon as the nurse places the bundle of joy into his arms. “We’ve been dying to meet you.”
2) Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) | General Audiences | 3,187 words
Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.
3) Whisk Me Off My Feet | Explicit | 5,054 words
When Louis locks himself out of his apartment in just a pair of novelty underwear, he hopes his new neighbor can come to his rescue.
4) Purr And Shout | Not Rated | 5,274 words
The sound that escapes Harry's mouth couldn't possibly be a purr. He's an alpha, alphas don't purr. Or do they?
5) Take Me To The Stars | Explicit | 5,840 words
Staring at his darling daughter, in the middle of the pasta aisle, Louis found himself on the edge of a neurotic breakdown.
"It’s your birthday tomorrow! And your papa better not do anything to muck it up! Because your dada worked very hard to organise it! And all of your aunties and grannies and granddads and friends will be there!” Louis continued in a sweet sing-song voice that seemed to get increasingly frantic as he continued. “And if your papa is in rut, then what? What’ll we do, honey girl? Your dada will be too busy! And your papa will be too horn-”
“Louis,” Harry interrupted, touching Louis’ arm. “I’ll be okay. It’s probably not even my rut. I can appreciate you… all of you… even when I’m not in rut.”
Louis looked at him skeptically, imagining the shitshow that would be Harry in rut, surrounded by family and friends, at their child’s first birthday party. “I hope you’re right, H.”
6) Young And Sweet | Explicit | 5,894 words
Louis sees his ex at the carnival and thinks that he must be the solution to his problem.
7) Glistening Under The Sun (You're My Honey Soaked Love) | Mature | 8,996 words | Sequel
The cottagecore fic we all needed, featuring Petal the overprotective bunny, mummy Louis and alpha Harry that lives and breathes for his omega.
8) I Will Cover My Eyes (For If The Dark Returns) | Not Rated | 9,582 words
Alpha Harry asks omega Louis out and things progress from there.
9) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11,111 words
When Louis and Niall are partnered up to complete a project on Omega scents and how they effect the nesting behaviours of Alphas, little does Louis know that the course of his life is about to be forever altered.
10) Butterflies, The Beautiful Kind | Explicit | 18,401 words
Prompt 36: Louis is a single parent with a child who is terrified of doctors. However, one day, the kid gets sick. Thankfully the new pediatrician, doctor Styles, has wild curly hair and green eyes and a soothing deep voice that the kid immediately grows attached to.
11) Tiger Lily | Mature | 20,155 words
I worked next door and when he walked in, my whole world turned on it's head.
12) This Love Is Ours | Mature | 21028 words
“I told you to call me Harry.” Harry looks amused. It’s not funny. Louis throwing up because of him isn’t funny.
“But I’ve been calling you Mr. Styles for so long.”
“And now you’re carrying my baby.”
13) Swept Me Off My Feet (Took My Heart And Took Me Down) | Explicit | 25,447 words
When Louis had decided to reopen his mother’s bakery, he never thought a charming alpha would walk in through the door, let alone fall in love with him over tea, dessert and music.
14) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us | Mature | 25,470 words
Louis stared at his luggage.
Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.
“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”
“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”
Louis continued to stare at the luggage.
15) Yours To Lose | Mature | 25,472 words
“I think I know the person that matches your descriptions of your dream alpha.”
“Who? And oh not my dream alpha, god you’re making me sound like a teenage school girl. I’m a mum, H.” They laugh as they watch kids gather in front of the verandah, getting ready to go back to the orphanage.
“Well, you’re gonna have to find out.” Harry winks before standing up to start cleaning their spot.
16) Feeling Peachy, Take A Bite | Explicit | 25,654 words
Prompt 570: Omega Louis works at a cupcake shop. He makes the prettiest cupcakes and loves his job. In comes beefy alpha Harry who absolutely loves to eat Louis’ cake. Inspired by Louis being a cute baby girl handing out cupcakes. (no a/b/o necessary, but Louis has to be feminine).
17) Confections Of The Heart | Explicit | 25,877 words
Louis is a single mom, Harry is a pastry chef, and Oliver just wants his mom to be happy. With a teaspoon of love and a sprinkle of fate, the three might just find a home in each other.
18) I Know How To Whisk (But Teach Me Anyway) | Mature | 32,113 words
Louis scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand. Unmated alphas don’t just go into a rut out of nowhere. Unless…”
Louis grabbed onto Niall’s arm in desperation. “Am I a homewrecker? Does Harry have a mate? Oh my God, was he not flirting? Did the change in his scent not have anything to do with my smell yesterday? Did I just make that up!?”
Louis let go of Niall and dropped his face in his hands. “I knew it was too good to be true.”
“You’re an idiot,” Niall stated. Louis looked up to find Niall rolling his eyes. He snapped his laptop closed and moved to stand up. “I need to get some work done. Why don’t you stay here and think back to ABO dynamics 101.”
With that Niall hopped off the couch and headed to his room. He stopped and turned to Louis before he made it to the hall and said, “Oh, and Lou. You may want to reconsider your outlook on soulmates.”
Louis yelled after him. “Soulmates aren’t a thing, Niall!”
19) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat | Explicit | 34,572 words
Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.
20) I Found A Love For Me (Darling Just Dive Right In) | Explicit | 46,652 words | Sequel
Louis, an omega with very little control. Harry, an alpha with a lot of emotion. Neither of them have any idea what do to with this little thing called love, but they’ll be damned if they don’t put up a good fight.
21) Gallery Of Us | Explicit | 55,782 words
Harry knew what he was doing in life, everything laid out in black-and-white, each day pleasantly predictable. Cue lively art student, Louis, trying to find his place. An almost insufferably happy person who sometimes forgets to hide the way they feel meets the person who is diligent enough to notice and determined to make a difference.
22) Love Me Until The End | Mature | 207,053 words
“Dr. Styles there’s an emergency at the maternity ward. The head nurse called for you, he needs you there as soon as possible.” The trainee tells Harry over the phone, catching his attention. Louis Tomlinson, the Louis Tomlinson is calling him? He lowers his clipboard and nods his head, getting up from his chair.
“Tell Mr. Tomlinson I’ll be there right away.”
Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.
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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 7: The First Snowfall of Winter
Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)
Rating: G
Word Count: 3880
Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32
This story was written for my CS Secret Santa giftee in 2016, I believe. It’s a Lieutenant Duckling story about best friends Princess Emma of Misthaven and stable boy Killian Jones and their tradition of always spending the day of the first snowfall of the year together.
~~~~~~~~~~
There was an ancient saying in the kingdom of Misthaven that the first snowfall of the winter was a magical thing, that those who first met beneath its soft flakes would share a lifelong bond…
~~~~~~~~~
Nine-year-old Killian Jones slumped down on a large rock outside the stables, biting his lip to keep it from quivering, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. He wasn’t a baby! He wasn’t going to cry!
Liam said this was a good thing; that he would be well cared for; that they’d be able to make a life for themselves now, and Killian believed him. Of course he was grateful to be away from Capt’n—he still had bruises from the last beating the tyrant had given him, the beating that convinced Liam that they needed to make a run for it. And King David and Queen Snow seemed quite kind and gentle.
Aye, he was grateful for the turn their lives had taken, but he couldn’t help the lump in his throat when he thought of what happened yesterday. Was it not bad enough that Papa had left him? Did Liam really have to leave too?
“I’m not leaving you, little brother,” Liam had said patiently when Killian had objected to the arrangement. “I’m merely going to sea. You know what an opportunity it is that King David gave us. A cabin boy in the Royal Navy! Me! I’ll soon earn enough money to get us our own home and an education and everything we could want.”
“But we’ll be apart for three whole months, Liam!” Killian had wailed. “We’re all the family we have left!”
Liam slung an arm awkwardly over his brother’s shoulder. “I’ll miss you too, but the three months will fly by like the wind. You’ll see! King David has promised to care for you; employ you as his stable boy. You’ll be so busy learning and working with his magnificent steeds you won’t even have time to miss me! And then I’ll be back. Besides, in a few short years you’ll be old enough to be a cabin boy too, and then we’ll be together always.”
But a few short years felt like an eternity to a little boy who felt all alone in the world. A stubborn tear he couldn’t quite hold back tracked its way down his cheek, and Killian wiped it away hastily.
“Are you crying?”
Killian startled at the voice, and looked up to see a little girl with blonde ringlets and compassionate green eyes.
“No,” he said in a thick voice. “I’m not a baby; I don’t cry!”
The little girl sat on the rock beside him. “It’s not just babies that cry; even my papa cries sometimes. Are you sad?”
“Aye,” he said with a sigh, realizing it would be useless to lie. “I miss my brother Liam. I wish he was here with me.”
The girl was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. Killian shivered and pulled his coat closer around him as the winter wind began to blow.
“You’re the new stable boy, aren’t you?” the little girl said suddenly. “Mama said we have a new one and that I should be nice to you ‘cause you’re lonely. I’m Emma, by the way.”
The little girl stuck out one tiny hand, and after a moment Killian shook it. Then her name and what she said struck him. Hastily he got to his feet and sketched a bow. “Emma…you’re Princess Emma aren’t you? The daughter of King David and Queen Snow?”
Emma grimaced. “Yes, I’m the princess. But I want to be just Emma; not princess Emma. Everybody calls me ‘Your Highness’ and bows and treats me like I’m some kind of breakable doll. I don’t want people to be my subjects; I just want someone to be my friend! I’m lonely too.”
A few stray flakes of snow began lazily drifting down, coating their hair and shoulders. Killian sat back beside the little girl and offered his hand in turn. “A pleasure to meet you ‘just Emma’. My name is Killian. Perhaps we can be friends; then neither of us need be lonely.”
~~~~~~~~~~
…that a vow made during the first snowfall would never be broken…
~~~~~~~~~~
Emma pulled back her arm and then threw with all her nine-year-old might. Her aim was true, and a moment later Killian dropped to the ground, felled by the snowball that hit him squarely in the back.
“Just you wait, Swan!” he growled, getting to his feet and scraping the snow together to form his own ammunition. “I will get my vengeance!”
“Not if you can’t catch me!” Emma said, giggling and running as fast as her legs would carry her in the opposite direction.
A year had passed since Killian came to work in the stables, and the two of them had formed a fast friendship. They were nearly inseparable, spending every free moment they had together, talking, playing, getting into so much mischief her nursemaid Johanna often threatened to ban Killian from the royal nursery altogether.
To be fair, it was normally Emma that got into mischief. Killian usually attempted to talk her out of it. “It’s rather bad form to give the king and queen so much grief, Swan.”
He’d taken to calling her “Swan” last spring, when they’d caught sight of one such bird on the lake. He’d commented that she was just like it; soft and graceful at some times, but a fierce and deadly fighter when she was angered.
Emma hurried behind the snow fort she’d constructed earlier that afternoon, knowing a moment of triumph.
The next thing she knew she was sprawled out on her back looking up into impossibly blue eyes and floppy black hair, the remnants of Killian’s snowball seeping beneath the collar of her warm winter coat. “No fair, Killian!” she said with a frown. “I’d reached my fort. You can’t tackle me behind my own fort! You know that’s not ‘good form’ as you like to say!”
“Apologies, my lady.” The laughter in his voice belayed his apology. Killian got hastily to his feet and then offered her a hand. “I suppose there’s nothing for it; I must concede defeat. You have bested me.”
“And just you remember it,” Emma said, grinning once again and attempting to brush the snow from her skirt—a hopeless task as it was still falling fast and hard from the heavy clouds above. “What should we do now?”
Killian thought for a moment. “How about we go inside? We’ve already made a snowman and snow angels and snow forts and had a snowball fight. I’m starting to get cold.”
“Okay,” Emma said with a nod. “Besides, Mama promised to make us hot cocoa when we returned to the castle. I hope she remembers the cinnamon this time.”
Killian chuckled. “How could she forget? You remind her every time you see her after that one afternoon she left it off. C’mon; let’s go!”
Emma stood still for a moment, and Killian looked back, his dark brow raised in confusion.
“Killian, you’re my very best friend,” Emma said abruptly.
“Aye,” he answered “And you’re mine.”
“Let’s make a promise that we’ll always be friends. Forever.”
He smiled. “I promise.”
~~~~~~~~~~
…that no distance can truly separate two hearts bound together by first snowfall magic…
~~~~~~~~~~
Fifteen-year-old Killian stood at the rail of The Jewel of the Realm and watched as Misthaven slowly disappeared on the horizon. Liam clapped him on the back. “It’s good to have you with us, little brother.”
“Younger, brother, Liam,” Killian said, brushing off his brother’s hand. “I’m nearly as tall as you now!”
Liam laughed. “That’s ‘Lieutenant Jones’ to you, cabin boy. Show your officers a little respect.”
Killian grinned and then snapped to attention and presented his brother with a perfectly executed salute. “Aye, aye, Lieutenant!”
“It’s finally here, brother,” Liam said, putting a hand back on Killian’s shoulder, “the day we’ve been waiting for. We’re finally able to sail together once more.”
Killian grinned, then turned back toward the rapidly disappearing shore as snowflakes began flying through the air. He felt a pang in his chest. This was the first time in six years he’d miss spending the first snowfall with Emma. He was grateful beyond words to be reunited with his beloved brother for more than just a few weeks at a time, but he couldn’t lie. He missed his best friend already.
“Something the matter, Killian?” Liam asked, leaning against the railing next to him.
“No…” Killian said quickly. “Well, perhaps a bit. I’m accustomed to spending the day of the first snow with Emma; that’s all.”
Liam chuckled and ruffled Killian’s hair. “Emma. Ah, so that’s what it is. Has cupid’s arrow pierced my little brother’s heart?”
Killian felt his face flame. “Leave off, Liam, you’re being ridiculous! You know she’s just my best friend!”
“Um-hm,” Liam hummed, maddening grin firmly affixed. “I have eyes, you know. Don’t think I didn’t see the princess kiss your cheek as you bid her farewell. Don’t think I missed the adoration in your eyes.”
Killian sucked in a quick breath, his mind returning to that moment an hour ago. Emma had looked like an angel in her long, pink gown that brushed the ground, her hair pulled back into a gentle braid. There’d been so much affection in her eyes as she wished him a good trip and promised to write him every day.
Then she’d ghosted her lips against his cheek.
It had sparked something in him; something he couldn’t explain. His heart beat faster, and he felt as though thousands of tiny butterflies were fluttering through his stomach. He could scarcely understand what was happening to him. Emma had kissed his cheek before, many times, in fact, and it had never affected him like that; it had never been anything more than a gesture of affection between friends.
But today…today everything had been different, and he hardly knew how to process it.
“Perhaps,” Killian said slowly, “perhaps my feelings have begun to change for Princess Emma, but Liam, I know my place. She’s the princess and I’m naught but a cabin boy. Best I not even allow myself to dream.”
Liam turned Killian to him with a gentle hand. “Brother, you know as well as I that the princess is no respecter of persons. Should she come to fancy you, your station will be of no consequence to her. Should your fancy turn to love one day, never fear to fight for her heart. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.”
~~~~~~~~~~
…that love awakened among the first snowfall will never fade…
~~~~~~~~~~
Emma twirled before her floor-length mirror, admiring the way her deep-red ball gown flared out with the movement. She couldn’t wait to wear the dress tonight at Misthaven’s annual ball celebrating the start of the Yuletide festivities. At twenty-years-of-age, Emma had been attending the ball for a few years, but this year felt different.
This year Killian would be there.
For the past two years, he’d sat out the ball, still an enlisted man in the navy. But with this year’s promotion to Lieutenant, he was expected to not only attend the ball, but dance with the ladies of the aristocracy and nobility.
Emma felt her cheeks heat at the thought, and it was ridiculous! Killian was her oldest and dearest friend, these…new feelings, newly awakened desires…well, they were just stupid. He’d likely laugh until he was blue in the face if he knew what she was currently thinking.
It was all Captain Liam’s fault, really. Didn’t the man know it was his job to teach his brother how to dance? What was he thinking giving that task to her?
Emma had the sneaking suspicion the oldest Jones man knew exactly what he was doing. The smirk he’d worn when he asked her to teach his hopeless little brother to dance had made little sense at the time, but now….now that things had changed, she couldn’t help but wonder if Killian’s brother had been attempting to play the matchmaker.
Emma let her mind wander back to the events of the afternoon that had changed everything.
She’d been sitting at her bay window, reading—a thrilling tale of adventure on the high seas—when she was interrupted by a quick rap at her open door. She looked up, and her heart stilled before racing faster than her father’s thoroughbreds. Killian stood dressed in his brand new lieutenant’s uniform—looking more than a bit bashful, she might add.
There was no other word for it; he had grown into a beautiful man. With his impossibly blue eyes, his dark hair, pulled back neatly into a ponytail at the back of his head, his skin tanned from weeks at sea, and his smile that could make the angels weep for joy, he was easily the handsomest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
“My princess,” he said, in a soft, deep voice as he executed a perfect bow.
She’d felt her heart flutter, her stomach swoop, her jaw drop. She doubted she could say a word if her life depended on it.
After a moment, he grinned, his old familiar grin—two parts joy and one part pure mischief, and suddenly the spell was broken. She leapt to her feet, ran to him and enveloped him in a hug. “You’re home! You’re finally home. And look at you! I’d heard about the promotion, but I had no idea you’d have your uniform yet.”
Killian looked down at his attire and then scratched behind his ear. “Aye, well…it was something of a requirement. I must be properly clad for the ball tonight.”
“Oh that’s right! You’ll be at the ball.”
“Aye,” he said with a deep sigh. “I gather Liam told you of my current predicament? My utter inability to dance?”
“Oh, that’s no problem,” Emma said, pulling at his arm and heading for the stairs. “Dancing’s easy. All you need is a partner who knows what she’s doing. I’d be more than happy to teach you.”
They reached the great hall doors, and Emma continued on, not stopping until they’d reached their favorite forest clearing. It was then that Emma realized the snow had begun to fall.
“First snowfall of winter!” she exclaimed in delight, spinning in a circle like a child, sticking her tongue out to catch the delicate flakes. “Killian how long has it been since we shared first snowfall together?”
“Far, far too long, my Swan,” he said in a soft voice, laden with an emotion Emma couldn’t place.
She looked up quickly, and he was looking at her strangely, as though she was a precious jewel. Emma felt her cheeks flame, wondering what on earth had come over her childhood best friend.
In a moment he was back, her Killian. The friend she’d known for years.
“It’s quite simple, really,” she said, stepping up to him. “Take my hand, and place your other at my waist, like so. Now follow my lead.”
For several moments Emma was occupied with the intricacies of teaching Killian to dance, but he was a quick study, and soon he was moving as competently and gracefully as she was.
That’s when she noticed how very close they were. She felt the weight of his hand on her waist, the way his breath tickled her face, the warmth of his body pressed close to hers, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but stare into those eyes, deep and blue as the sea.
She’d never felt anything like this.
He seemed to be afflicted with the same madness. He held his breath for a moment and then, oh-so-slowly bent his head toward hers. She had the strangest sensation he meant to kiss her. Even stranger was how much she wished he would.
A moment later a raucous cardinal trilled out his song and the spell was broken. Killian stepped hastily back, his cheeks flaming as red as the bird who had disturbed their tete-a-tete. Emma felt a moment of loss, but the warmth in her heart; the warmth that suffused her entire being remained.
And now, two hours later, it had yet to cool. What was happening to her?
And even more…how was she going to manage to dance with Killian tonight without making an utter fool of herself?
~~~~~~~~~~
…that a kiss shared between sweethearts during the first snowfall can’t fail to be True Love’s Kiss…
~~~~~~~~~~
Killian stood nervously beside his brother as the music began to play, as they waited for the arrival of the guests of honor. He tugged at his collar, remembering the afternoon when he’d almost lost his head and kissed the princess, when all his careful work to keep his feelings hidden had nearly crumbled.
But he’d missed her. He’d missed her with all his being, and when he saw her gracefully sitting in her window seat, he thought his heart would burst with emotion. He loved her; there was no other word for it.
He loved her, but she was the princess, and he was naught but a sailor. His love was doomed from the beginning, and he’d best remember that.
Killian felt Liam’s hand on his shoulder. “Relax, brother,” he said. “We’re attending a ball, not an execution.”
“Easy for you to say,” Killian groused. “You’ve been attending these balls for years; you know just what to say and how to act around the ladies. I fear I’ll make a damned fool of myself.”
Liam grinned. “From the looks Princess Emma is sending your way, I’d wager you could fall on your face, and she’d think you were brilliant.”
“What?”
“Look, little brother. The royals have arrived.”
Killian whipped his head around and then promptly felt the breath leave his lungs in a whoosh. She was a vision in her red ball gown, her blonde hair delicately twisted up upon her head. Her eyes sparkled, and…Liam was right…she was looking at him like he was the only man in the room.
“Go on, lad,” Liam said with a gentle shove to the shoulder. “It’s time you show her majesty that the Jones family charm didn’t skip the younger son.”
Killian’s feet took him forward until he was within two feet of the princess. Then he took her hand and brought it to his lips. “You look stunning, Swan.”
She blushed, the color only adding to her radiant beauty. “You look…”
“He knows,” Liam offered helpfully, leaning in and grinning wide enough Killian thought his face would split in two.
“Leave off, Liam!” Killian shot over his shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of talking to the lady on my own.”
“As you wish,” Liam said with a shrug, grin still in place. “I just thought I’d lend my aid should you wish it in asking her majesty for a dance.”
Killian felt his face flame for probably the millionth time that night as he guided Emma a few steps away where they wouldn’t be disturbed by his embarrassing brother. Why was this so difficult? This was Emma; just Emma. They’d known each other for more than a decade now, and never had their interactions been so…awkward.
“Would you care to dance, my princess? If your first dance hasn’t already been claimed, that is.”
Emma dipped into a graceful curtsy and then shot him a shy smile. “I thought you’d never ask. There’s no one else I’d wish to share my first dance with.”
And as Killian took Emma into his arms and moved to the music, everything around them fell away, the people, the overheated room, the nerves. This feeling, dancing with the woman he loved, this was the closest to heaven he’d ever been.
As the night continued, the princess danced so often with the lieutenant that people began to talk—and more than once Killian caught the king shooting him looks that no doubt could kill.
Emma caught the direction of his gaze and the way he swallowed hard, and her eyes narrowed. Taking his hand, she led him to a balcony off the ball room, where the first snow of the season was still resolutely falling.
“I’m not sure this is proper, Swan,” Killian muttered, nevertheless letting himself be led.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Killian,” Emma said shutting the glass doors behind them and then turning toward him. “We’re still in plain sight…this just gives us a chance to have a moment alone.”
Killian shuffled nervously for a moment—and then he looked down at her. The snow landed on her hair, on her dress, on the gentle curve of her cheek. He reached up, cupping her face, wiping away the offending flake with a swipe of his thumb. Emma reached up and held his hand in place, her fingers tangling with his.
And then he lost his head altogether. Leaning down, he captured her lips with his own. She sighed his name and then wrapped her arms around his neck and enthusiastically returned his kiss. Killian pulled her to him, holding her even tighter, just as a pulse of rainbow-tinted electricity shot from between them, spreading out to cover the whole kingdom.
“Was that….?” Killian asked, pulling away slightly, eyes wide.
Emma smiled radiantly, cupping the back of his head, bringing him down for a second—and then third—kiss. “Yeah. I don’t think there can be any doubt; that was True Love’s Kiss.”
“But there was no curse to be broken…”
Emma cupped his cheek, reaching to rest her forehead against his. “Perhaps we have a love so strong a curse isn’t necessary to prove it.”
~~~~~~~~~~
…and that the couple who pledges their troth beneath the gentle fall of the first snow will live happily ever afterwards.
~~~~~~~~~~
The first ball of the Yuletide was a turning point for Princess Emma and Lieutenant Killian. If they’d been close before, they were positively inseparable after sharing True Love’s Kiss. It was generally considered to be a romance worthy of fairy tales, and there wasn’t a soul in Misthaven who was surprised when the couple announced their engagement some six months later. (It was, however said, that King David threatened the young lieutenant within an inch of his life should he ever cause the princess a moment of pain. It was further said the lieutenant laughed long and heartily at the very notion, after which he and the king became fast and forever friends.)
And so it was that the first snowfall of the following year found Princess Emma of Misthaven and Lieutenant Killian Jones of the Royal Navy exchanging their wedding vows in the large, palace chapel, the curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows thrown wide to show Mother Nature’s blessing on the happy couple.
It was said that there wasn’t a dry eye in the entire kingdom as Captain Liam Jones proclaimed the couple husband and wife, and Killian kissed his bride.
They, of course, did live happily ever afterwards.
NEXT CHAPTER->
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2022 Writing Year in Review
thank you for the tag @northerngoshawk!! 💕
1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 18
2. Word count this year: 172,404 words! we could get really technical and subtract the word counts for the fics i technically wrote in 2021 but typed/posted in 2022, but that’s a lot of work i don’t feel like doing lol
3. Fandoms I wrote for: ATLA, Law & Order, MCU (+ Venom), Monk, and Medium. not sure i want to know what that says about me...
4. Pairings: petermj (mcu), allison/joe (medium), kincoy (claire/jack from l&o), zukaang (atla), tylara (atla), mjflash (mcu), and kataang (atla). a nice mixture!
5. Stories with the most:
Kudos: Walls (my mj&flash friendship fic) comes in first with 114 kudos
Bookmarks: Walls comes out on top again with 29 bookmarks!
Comment threads: this thing of darkness (i acknowledge mine), my mjflash + venom!flash fic, has the most comment threads by far with 47, the result of a small but loyal following of readers who made my day every time they commented 💛
Word count: by a hair, The Wrong Note (my monk x medium crossover) has the highest word count at 37,630 words! this thing of darkness (i acknowledge mine) has 37,011 words
6. Work I’m most proud of (and why): im proud of all my works for different reasons! today i shall spotlight my children will listen series, consisting of two waterbending-centric fics narrated by kanna and katara respectively; both stories explore cultural loss and intergenerational trauma. i’d never written companion pieces prior to that point, so im proud of how i was able to construct those parallel narratives! i also had a blast reworking one of my favorite shel silverstein poems to weave throughout the story
7. Work I’m least proud of (and why): ?? this is a silly question. fanfic is my hobby, im not writing it for journal publication. onto the next one!
8. Share or describe a favorite review you received: literally Every review i got on the children will listen series; i had no idea how impactful those fics would be or how many people would relate to it, but im so glad i ended up writing and publishing them! i also have to shoutout ocean’s review on time apart, time together (the tylara fic i wrote for her bday 💛) bc she truly Understood that story through and through, and i am equal parts delighted and relieved that she did (since it was written for her 💕)
9. A time when writing was really, really hard: i mean, im a college student. i almost never write fic during the semester, lol. i Literally haven’t written fic since,,,, august 2022. (technically i could have written some fic these past few weeks BUT it’s the holidays so i’ve been spending time with family + revising my research paper + loosely working on some original writing)
10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you: BRUH all of my law & order fics surprised me 😭 come on, babe (why don’t we paint the town?) contains Thee sexiest scene i’ve ever written; find a flask (we’re playing fast and loose) is written SOLELY from jack’s pov (a 50-year-old white man, how low have i fallen); and it was more than worth it (my kincoy magnum opus) was my first foray into nonlinear storytelling. all in all, 2022 was quite an experimental year for me!
11. A favorite excerpt of your writing: i’ve talked to death my favorite excerpt from it was more than worth it, so instead i’ll spotlight an excerpt from if memories could fade away (my mj birthday fic):
Ned sticks his tongue out at her, and MJ responds in turn before opening the door anyway, because he’s Ned and she’s MJ and it’s always been just them, the two of them, eight years going on eighteen.
“Damn, girl, you live like this?” Ned says as he enters, watching where he steps so he doesn’t trip over one of her many piles of everything—textbooks, clothes, journals, old CDs too scratched to use that will soon become the basis of MJ’s next art project: voices we no longer hear.
She remembers getting each CD, starting with Let Go on her tenth birthday, back when she lived in New Orleans and always kept her curly brown hair in symmetrical cornrows or cropped at the base of her neck because of the suffocating humidity. She remembers taking each CD and ripping the music to her computer so her dad could move it onto her tiny red MP3 player for the long, long ride to Queens that began the next day. She remembers two CDs breaking during the drive and one CD breaking when they arrived because she threw it at the wall of her empty new room, angry, so angry she’d been ripped from her home like music from a shiny silver disc and it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair—
“You see, guests usually stay downstairs,” MJ teases, pushing aside a pile of clothes so Ned has room to sit on her bed. She takes a seat at her desk, spinning the chair around to face her dearest friend. “If I’d known you were planning to invade my personal space, I might have considered making my living arrangements more presentable.”
Ned snickers. “Considered, and then not done a damn thing about them?”
MJ winks at him. “You know me so well.”
Ned has known her so long, known her messy room, known her impenetrable walls, known her since she was thrown into a new school in a new city expected to make new friends when Michelle knew even at ten that would never happen, not that year, because 5th graders had already chosen their loyal companions five, six, seven years ago and there was no room for a Black girl to fit into a white noise machine that already hummed along without her.
Her parents sent her to school anyway. She must not have been persuasive enough.
MJ MY BELOVED!!! 🥺💛 i enjoyed playing with sentence length/rhythm and metaphors/similes in this fic, and i think this excerpt in particular captures that experimentation
12. How did you grow as a writer this year: hmmmm well i tried my hand at some action sequences in this thing of darkness (i acknowledge mine), which probably counts for something. and like i already mentioned, it was more than worth it was my first foray into nonlinear storytelling (and a lot of people told me they enjoyed it!) + if memories could fade away involved stylistic experimentation. in other words, i think i grew as a writer simply by letting myself try new things, from how i told stories to what content i included within them!
13. How do you hope to grow next year: i just want to write more, honestly. the more i write, the more i can try, and hopefully the more i’ll grow! to be more specific, i want to try my hand at some sci-fi/near-future dystopian original stories (à la kazuo ishiguro’s klara and the sun)
14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc): probably ocean and ambi! they always put up with my fic-related ramblings, are wonderful to bounce ideas off of, and by virtue of their existence (and enthusiasm) remind me why i love writing fic in the first place 💛 in terms of non-tumblr influences, haha, reading the promise by damon galgut was a GAME CHANGER for me. third person omniscient with no quotation marks?? the entire story is an allegory for post-apartheid south africa?? a stylistic and thematic MASTERPIECE. i can only dream of writing a novel with such artistic daring
15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year: lol this thing of darkness (i acknowledge mine) is packedTM with shakespeare references and milton jokes; if memories could fade away explicitly mentions one of avril lavigne’s albums (seen in the provided excerpt); won’t you hang a picture? references nancy drew; and Walls involves a whole project about the picture of dorian gray. when narratively appropriate, i never hesitate to sneak in my own interests 😂
16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers: write for fun! write what you love! don’t be afraid to experiment! listen to the incredibles soundtrack while you write! read, read, read! write with a cat on your lap! never delete anything! write when you’re inspired and write when you’re not! if it brings you joy to create, then what you create is good enough!
17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year: honestly, i want to focus on my original writing and my research more, so i may not have as much time for fic. that said, i hope to write:
a sequel to this thing of darkness (i acknowledge mine)
the next part of my mcu medium!au
ml fic in general
atla fic in general
time will tell!
18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read: i know a lot of people have been tagged for this already, so apologies if im bombarding you or if you’ve already done this! i’ll tag @justoceanmyth, @ambivalentmarvel, @seek--rest, and @shifuaang :)
#no pressure y'all 💛#(this is starkravinghazelnoots for the marvel mutuals)#amy gets tagged#helaina tagged me in a similar game (thank u friend!!) that i still need to do; i never thought the holidays could be so BUSY what
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Rachael Haney: It’s Her Plan and She’s Sticking to It
What she was is exactly what she wanted to be. The local news lady. Sure, Rachael Dierkes was another talented female reporter with WTRF-TV 7, and yes, veteran news director Brenda Danehart has mentored a great number of anchors straight out of town and to a larger media market, but Rachael wasn’t interested with all that larger market/moving away part. Nope, she was happy with being that local news lady like Danehart was for decades before moving up the industry’s ladder. She wanted to be the Shadyside native who tells us about the first new baby every New Year’s Day, to report the names of each local high school’s summa cum lauds each May, and to offer us the next-best “Taste with Rach” every Thursday evening. Rachael wanted to be the local news lady who tells us the good news along with the bad during the ultra-important 6-and-11 p.m. broadcasts, but … you see … Rachael wanted an Eric and an Aubrey even more. And, of course, her husband and her little girl win that battle every single day. For now, perhaps? Rachael and her husband are avid skiers, so Aubrey is learning how to navigate the slopes, too. What is the one thing you miss most about being on the TV news? I had to answer this question last. It’s like opening Pandora’s Box for me because I miss almost everything. But my immediate response is always “Taste With Rach.” This will always be what I’m most proud of during my time on local news. It started as an opportunity to showcase locally owned restaurants and it grew into something so much bigger. I had no idea the stories I would hear. The incredible people I would meet and still stay in touch with to this day. I laughed and cried over many plates of hand cut French fries, grandma’s pie recipes, sandwiches named after kids and tables built by hand. I’ve been able to sit back and watch some of these places flourish and grow, move to new buildings, expand menus, and open new locations. I feel so honored to have had the opportunity to tell their stories. I always said even if a feature only brought in one new customer, I’d feel like I made a difference. What is your daughter’s favorite TV show now and what was your favorite when you were her age? There is a tie for a favorite TV show. It’s between Bluey and anything Mickey Mouse-related (You’d be shocked how many variations there are). While I’m sure many people are familiar with Mickey — let me turn you onto Bluey if you’ve never watched. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m fully immersed into this life, but I could write a thesis statement on how incredible this show is. Each episode is only 7-8 minutes long, so it gets right to the point, but it’s essentially about a dog family that lives in Australia. The main character being the older daughter “Bluey.” It’s hilarious and creative, the situations are incredibly relatable for any parent of young kids. We’ve learned so much about creative play and parenting from watching. And yes, it’s a cartoon. I had to ask my mom about my favorite TV shows as a four-year-old. She said I loved Reading Rainbow (Maybe a pre-cursor to my future career reading on TV?). She reports I used to love to sing the theme song. My all-time favorite movie was The Little Mermaid, though, and when we went to Disney this year, I actually teared up riding the Little Mermaid ride and meeting “Ariel.” The Haney family has had a lot of fun with the holidays. What have you had the most fun doing as a mother? I have loved every second of watching Aubrey grow into her own little person. Developing interests and personality, making friends, finding things she enjoys doing, and figuring out what she does not like doing. Plus, realizing the moment a new skill “clicks” for her, and seeing wonder in her eyes when we experience something new. Being a parent is tough. There’s the obvious factor of being responsible for raising a child. It’s the most adult thing I’ve ever done. But I’ve also got to be a kid again in so many ways. I’ve enjoyed learning how to slow down in certain situations and just enjoy the moment. I get to sit down and play Barbies. I get to be silly. There are so many things I’ve learned to love again seeing it through a child’s eyes. Who does most of the cooking at home? I do most of the cooking. I always joke I never realized how mentally taxing meal planning was (I definitely took that for granted as a kid), but we spent a lot of our relationship before Aubrey rarely getting a chance to sit down and have dinner together. Because of my schedule, I went to bed many nights before Eric was even home from work. Something I’ve cherished about my stay-at-home mom life is making it a priority to sit down at the table and have dinner as a family as often as possible. Like many things in my life, I used to make dinner so complicated and think it was too hard to accomplish. But once I started just going with the flow, I realized I actually enjoy cooking. She enjoyed her "Taste with Rach" food segments the most during her TV career. How often do you watch the local news on WTRF-TV 7? This is tough for me because I wish the answer was more than I actually do get to watch. The short answer is “I’m busy” and rarely even realize what time it is to turn on the TV. I’m partial to morning news, so I always try to catch the last 10 minutes of 7News This Morning. We also try to catch the A-block of the evening shows. When I’m looking to learn more about a specific story or situation, I will do better to tune in at watch. I think local news is something people take for granted. I knew when I was there and I know it even more now. Even though I don’t have the time to tune in like I’d like, I know it’s going to be there when I need it. Read the full article
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Theseus Scamander x reader
This is my first ever fic! Hope you enjoy! Making this a series🪄💗
✨Love is magical✨
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6| Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9| Part 10| Part 11|
You’re sitting in your office gazing at the stars outside, about to be off work. It’s winter in London, the weather outside is indeed frightful, snow is falling from the sky, and it might be the coldest night of the year but you don’t care because Christmas is only 20 days away! Yes, you were a sucker for Christmas, even though your family wasn’t Christian you just loved the Christmas spirit and everything that came with the heartwarming holiday. You moved to London about 6 months ago from the states. This was the first Christmas you’d be spending away from your family. And your ex who you broke up with before moving here because “long distance wasn’t going to work” for him, not to mention he flat out demanded you to quit your job. At this point you were basically over Peter (your ex) and that sadness that once filled your heart was now outpoured by curiosity for this new environment you were in. You liked London, sure the accents and lingo took some getting used to, but there was something magical about where you lived! You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but the city just twinkled with a spark that had to be other worldly.✨
You left work to take off on a dreadfully cold trip home. You had to take the trolley because your car was in the shop. Even though it was unbearably cold the beautiful bright lights, and Christmas decorations filled throughout the city took your breath away!
You entered the trolley only to see it filled with couples, it was cute, sweet even, but it also kinda reminded you that you were very single, which made you a little sad. You look down at your feet after noticing everyone staring at you (you thought it was because you were alone and felt awkward but in reality everyone was taken aback by your beauty). You were the prettiest girl in that town but you having an even prettier soul and heart of gold never paid much attention to looks, you just thought people were being nice when they’d compliment you.
As you stand looking down at your shoes wishing your car wasn’t in the shop you hear a deep voice with a strong British accent say “excuse me miss would you like to sit down?” You look up and see a tall gentleman with blue eyes, and curly short brown hair smile at you endearingly.
You smile back and say “I’m fine thanks.” He gets up and says “I insist” to which you look back again and say “no really I’m fine, my stop is coming up!” The trolley stops just in time for you to wave bye and hop off.
The trolley stranger doesn’t hesitate to follow you pretending that it was his stop as well (which you think is a bit strange).
“I’m Theseus by the way, Theseus Scamander” he says. You nod your head and continue to walk, sure you thought he was handsome but you’re wary about meeting literal strangers.
“Aren’t you going to tell me your name, miss” he says looking at you with almost puppy dog eyes, like he was a kid begging his Mom for that delicious piece of candy she wouldn’t let him have.
“I’m y/n, y/ln,” you say, as you both stop. His eyes filled with delight and amazement “ah what a beautiful name, almost as beautiful as you miss y/n.”
You smile “thank you Theseus….so was this really your stop?” (Asked with suspicion in your voice).
He laughs “I’ll be perfectly honest, it wasn’t but I couldn’t pass up the chance of knowing your name.” You blush, and start walking again.
He walks briskly to keep up with you “so if I may ask, do you live here, in London?”
“Yes I moved here not long ago for work, how about you?”
“Yes I live here as well, all my life actually!”
“Oh and what do you do for work?” You ask.
“I’m head aur- *he stops himself mid sentence* “head of the architecture department.” He says nervously hoping you wouldn’t notice that he meant to say head auror at the ministry of magic.
You didn’t notice though, you just thought he was a bit goofy, but you like goofy, you were goofy yourself, and suddenly you found this stranger somewhat charming.
Theseus insists on letting him walk you home to make sure you get there safely. You chuckle “I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” He pauses and looks at you with the most sincere stare “please y/n, you can trust me.” For some reason the warmth in his eyes made you feel safe, at ease almost, and you believed him.
So you both continue and the entire way you’re laughing, and talking about your life stories. It was easy with him. Finally you make it to your door “well this is me” you say. Theseus becomes sad realizing that your time together has come to an end. “Thank you for the company Theseus,” you say before turning away.
As you’re walking into your home he yells ‘Y/n wait!!” “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow? Please! I insist! I’d love to take you out and show you around town!”
You look back and smile “sure, I’d love that, stop by around 6.”
Theseus literally jumps for joy thinking you didn’t notice but oh you did, you bust out laughing and his cheeks flush a bright red. “You’re cute” you say blowing him a kiss good bye and locking the door behind you.
You swoon as soon as you walk in and slide your back on the door. A rush of what feels like magic takes over your body, and you’re basking in the glow of your first post break up crush.
#theseus scamander#theseus scamander fic#theseus scamander fluff#theseus scamander x reader#theseus scamander x y/n#theseus x reader#fantastic beasts#harry potter#romantic#story#theseus scamander x you#theseus#romance#theseus scamander smut#theseus x you#my fic#fanfic#theseusscamanderfanfic#theseus scamander imagine#fbsod#fbcog#fbawtft#fanfiction#harrypotterfanfic#harry potter fanfiction#imagine
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okay, because I’m feeling brave… here’s my favourite piece of writing that I’ve done
I’m 17, and I’m standing in the kitchen, talking to my mum. I’m trying to make her understand how scared I was when I got crushes on girls. How I was terrified when I realised that I’m not a girl. And she’s not getting it. How could she? Especially when our versions of history are so different. She tells me that a family friend used to bring her girlfriend around to our place sometimes. That I grew up around the Adelaide arts scene, of course I knew about gay people from the time I was born. But I can’t remember any of that.
It’s 2008. I’m in kindergarten and my teacher is calling out names of “buddies”. I wait for my name, hoping that I get assigned one of those nice-looking girls with freckles. And for once, my prayers are answered. Doubly answered, because for some reason there weren’t enough 5 year olds and too many 11 year olds, so I got landed with two buddies. Both of them tall, athletic, and feminine. I’m an anxious kid who is eager to please. So when the girls say that their favourite colour is pink, I say that it’s my favourite colour too, even though the real answer is green. I say that I like to dance, even though my favourite thing is to run around outside. When I’m at home, I’m obsessed with Bob the Builder, but if I want friends at school, my favourite show is Angelina Ballerina and that’s that.
I’m 15 and I’m staying with my grandma - my mum’s mum - over the holidays. I’ve had a rough time at school, and I get along with her, so my mum decided to send me to Sydney for the week. Just me and my grandma, on our adventures. Away from all the shittiness that comes with being gay in high school. My hair is long, and I’m wearing a skirt, but I’m happy. Afterall, I’m with one of the people I love the most in the world.
We’re waiting for a bus when my grandma starts telling an anecdote about her time in Canada. I’m laughing in the right places, but I want to cry. Because my grandma made a snide remark about gay people. She screws her nose up in that way, and my heart plummets. And I know I’m never going to be able to be honest with my favourite person about who I am. But I smile back at her, and tell her about my plans for year 10 formal.
I’m 10 years old. My parents just told me we’re moving back to Adelaide, and I’m hiding how much I don’t want that to happen. I’m thinking about how much I’ve changed since the last time I lived there. I’m thinking about friends I’d made, and how I didn’t want to leave them. I still acted when I was around them. I faked crushes on boys. I pretended to be a girl. But I was closer to being the real me than I’d ever been. I wore shorts to school, we played ‘dragons’ at lunchtime, and we practiced maths together after school. We had fun in a way that made me forget how much I hated myself and my body. I knew I wouldn’t be able to find friends like that in Adelaide.
It’s the 11th of September 2017, and I’m 14. I’m lying on the floor in my bedroom, listening to Troye Sivan. Trying to find the confidence to come out to my parents. I remember all the coming out videos I’d watched on YouTube as practice. I go over the plan in my head, trying to work out the when and the how. I decide that I’m going to do it over dinner, but that’s not what ends up happening. I lose the nerve in front of my sisters. Instead, I resolve to do it one family member at a time. At 8:30, when everyone else is heading off to bed, I turn to my dad and say the magic words, “I’m not straight”. And burst into tears. My dad asks why I’m crying, and a million and one different possible answers run through my head, but I settle on the easiest one. “I don’t know.”
I’m bowling with my best friend as a treat before we go back to school for year 11. I had a crush on her when we first met, but I only see her as my friend now. We’ve known each other for almost 8 years at this point, but tonight feels different somehow. She’s being unusually quiet. Until she decides she wants to talk about what’s on her mind. Once we’ve finished bowling, she pulls me aside. She tells me that she has to tell me something. Apparently the day before, she’d accidentally come out to her mum as bisexual. Her mum’s response had been less than ideal. “This is her fault, isn’t it? She did something to you? To turn you gay?” I went home crying that night, sure that I’d never be able to see her again. Sure that all future contact between us would be banned for good. Afterall, it was contact between us that made her the way she was, right?
I’m playing under 8s soccer, and I’m terrified. I can’t stop thinking about Meg, the coach’s daughter. She’s only about 6 months older than me, but she seems so much older. She’s taller than I am, and she has hair that looks like threads of gold when the sun hits it just right. We’re both playing defence. My feet are covered in mud, and I’m wearing shorts, but I feel incredible. Yet there’s a feeling of fear hiding deep within my stomach that won’t go away. Other than Meg, there aren’t any girls on my team, so this soccer thing really isn’t helping my facade. Even worse, after the game Meg and I get talking, and just like all conversations when you’re that age, the talk turns to crushes. She asks me who I like, so I look her in the eyes and say “Zayn”, hoping that she knows I really mean “you”.
I’m at a new school, in a new city. It’s April, and it’s really cold. Just like at every new school, I’m assigned a buddy. Someone to show me around the school. This time it’s a boy called Connor. He’s wild and he’s a little bit insane. I can already tell he’s my kind of person. I mean, he brought a Nerf gun to school… what could be cooler than that? It’s only been a week, but he’s already invited me back to his place to shoot each other up. We’re both screaming and laughing. Wearing his bullet proof vest, and my Phineas and Ferb sneakers I feel like me again. We’re running around, and he refuses to admit that I have a better aim than he does. Or that I’m faster than he is. I’m the first girl he’s ever been friends with, but I don’t care. Because I don’t feel like a girl. I just feel like me.
I’m 17, and I’m standing in the kitchen, talking to my mum. I’m still trying to work out how to get her to understand my experiences. And then she lets a new piece of information slip.
“You know, I never assumed you were straight… I thought you were queer from the time you were about 18 months old”.
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Almost
AN: Hello everyone, I am fairly new to posting on this app, so therefore I am still learning how to use it. Hehe :) Anyways, I hope you are having a great day!
Warning: Nothing really, maybe a little bit of angst?
Zayn and Y/n broke up and all he’s left with are the videos she took during their senior year of high school.
September 1st, 2010:
The camera was set up in her hand as she was slightly fixing her hair, a huge smile plastered on her makeup covered face. He always thought she looked better without makeup, but sometimes you couldn’t beat the insecurities.
“Here we are, the first day of senior year! How are we feeling, Zayn?”
Next to her stood himself, a much younger version of himself. Two years to be exact. He was almost unrecognizabel, with his usual high school attire adoring his body. A white tee-shirt, black skinny jeans, and not to mention his varsity football jacket hanging off of his shoulders. She looked lovingly at her boyfriend, her eyelashes beating against the softness of her rounded cheeks.
“I’m ready to get out of here, the last three years were the upmost worst years of my life.” Zayn spoke truthfully, he hadn’t expected to make it past the ninth grade, but with the help of Y/n, he managed to make it all the way to his graduating year. Y/n gave him an offended look before responding, “Hey! If it weren’t for these last three years, you would’ve never met me, let alone had the courage to talk to me. Am I really that bad?”
She laughed out while speaking, all so he knows that she is joking and would never accuse him of thinking such things. Though, he was already two steps ahead of her and was laughing along at her sad attempt of looking offended. “Of course not, baby. You are what kept me going.” With that, Zayn kissed her temple and she let out a small giggle before stopping the camera.
September 5th, 2010:
Random small talk was heard on the computer sitting in front of Zayn, before her face showed with a bright glow. She was so beautiful it almost hurt. She was laughing at something her friend Emery said, though it was completely inaudible, he just let the smile take over his face hearing her laugh again.
“I don’t exactly know why I turned this on, but hello! We successfully made it through the first week of school, and let me just say, it was not fun. The teachers still hate me.” Again, Y/n laughed towards the camera.
“I remember this one time last year when Mr. Lambert threw me out of class because I wouldn’t stop laughing. In my defence, he was talking about the safety of condoms and Zayn kept mocking him. That was a detention worth going to.” Zayn remembered that day clearly. He sat to the left of Y/n, Mr. Lambert’s first mistake, and would whisper in her ear how he would show her the proper way to wear a condom when they got to her house that night. To say he did end up showing her was an understatement.
The camera then turned to her friend before she continued on with what she was saying, “Anyways, Emery here, has informed me about this back to school party for seniors at Anthony Stilettos house. So, we are heading to the mall so we can get a nice looking outfit for tonight. I’ll see you guys later!” And with that the camera switched off.
He thought that was the end of the video, but when she popped back on his screen, he was pleasantly surprised. She wore a black dress that just reached her knees, the end of it rippled and flew each time she took a step. Her hair and makeup was done, and her shoes matched her dress, she really was the most beautiful person he has ever met.
Without saying anything, Y/n moved the camera to where the view was now on Emery. She wore a simple tight red dress that fit her like a glove, she was placing bobby pins in her hair before realising a camera was watching her every move. Emery turned away from the mirror Y/n had in her room, and started making random poses into the camera. The video finally ended with Y/n facing the camera back to herself while laughing at it.
October 7th, 2010:
It was homecoming. Their final homecoming, and of course, Zayn asked her to be his date. He didn’t go all out like the previous years, this particular year was asked right after they finished giving each other their all. They were bunched up together, all sweaty and breathless, and that is when Zayn asked her to go to homecoming with him. He thought it was gross because of their previous activities, but Y/n thought it was sweet, endearing even. It was personal and intimate, she wouldn’t have had it any other way. Plus, she was tired of all the attention that comes with getting asked to homecoming.
Her dress was a beautiful shade of baby yellow, Zayn wore his usual black suit but with a yellow tie and a yellow rose pinned to his coat pocket. The night couldn’t have been anymore magical.
“Z, are you ready to go? Emmy and Dallas are waiting in the car.” Her soft voice echoed through the speakers, she was worried about being late. But more so, excited about what the night had planned for the couple. Zayn was fixing his hair, like he does any other day, however today, he wanted to look his absolute best. “Just one more second, love. Gotta look perfect before leaving these four secured walls.”
Y/n rolled her eyes into the camera before another smile took over her face. It only got wider as he finally announced that he was ready.
“Baby, you look handsome! You don’t need all that hair gel, make one wrong move and we’re calling you Uncle Jesse.” Zayn scoffed, his hands finding their place on her hips, him being pressed up against her back. His chin resting on her shoulder, they looked so in love. They were so in love.
October 31st, 2010:
Fall was Y/n’s favorite season, meaning Halloween was by far her favorite holiday. She squealed into the camera when Zayn walked out in his Peter Pan costume. “Baby, you look so fucking adorable!” She cooed, though Zayn was having none of it. “Do we have to go to this party? Can’t we just stay in and watch scary movies, I promise I will protect you if you get too scared!”
He knew it was no use, Y/n had been going on and on about Anthony’s costume party for the past week, so when she started laughing, Zayn internally groaned. “Brave of you to assume I will get scared during a horror movie. How about we go for just an hour, then you and I can come back here and watch whatever movie you want?”
At that, his ears perked, he could go for an hour. That gives him all the more time alone with his love. “Hocus Pocus? That’s my favorite.”
“Yes baby, we can watch Hocus Pocus, do this for me, and I’m all yours for the rest of the night.” A grin was stretched across his face as she leaned up and gave a peck to his lips. Adoration shining brightly in her eyes as she looked up at him. “You are so lucky I love you, Y/n.”
“I love you, Zayn. More than you will ever know.”
December 31st, 2010:
“Hola, my favorite people! Happy New Years Eve, I hope you guys are having a good day. My family is having a little party to bring in the new year, even though you won’t be watching this until later when I decide to post it, I hope you guys have an amazing holiday. Be safe now. Bye!”
Christmas and New Year’s was hard for Y/n. She had major separation anxiety for everyone she grows close to, so not being able to see the people she loves for a whole two weeks was taking a toll on her. Not to mention, Zayn went back to Bradford for the holidays, so he wasn’t there to keep her calm. All she had was the emails and messages he would send her.
However, that night was different. She didn’t know what it was, but the air felt more intoxicating. There was something she was missing and the young girl couldn’t put her finger on it.
Emery got ahold of Y/n’s camera without her noticing, pressing the ‘record’ button and smiling.
“Hi, as many of you may know, my name is Emery White. Before questions start racing through your head about where Y/n is, she is currently in the kitchen talking to one of her neighbors, and she knows nothing about this so, shhh!” Emery held her index finger up to her mouth, even though she is talking to a camera.
“So, the time is now 11:58, meaning it is almost New Year’s and I got a message from a good friend of mine to get her camera and start recording. Oh wait, she’s coming over! Act normal!”
“Emmy? Why do you have my camera, wait no, when did you get my camera?” Emery turned her neck to look at Y/n, and smiled while looking at her friends confused face. “It’s almost midnight, I figured we could record the big moment for your journal thing.”
Y/n looked at her watch and sure enough, it was 12:59, and the people around her were counting down. By the time Y/n looked back at her friend, Emery had switched her position to behind the camera, her smile now stretching to her eyes. She gave a confused smile towards the camera before shaking her head.
10..
9..
8..
A tap was felt on Y/n’s shoulder making her turn around, not believing her eyes, she had to do a double take. There he was in all of his glory. Zayn stood in front of her with a bouquet of random flowers, her eyes widening in complete shock.
3..
2..
1!
Before she could fully process his presence, Zayn had planted his lips against hers in what he would call, one of their best kisses. His arms went around her waist while hers were around his neck, keeping him as close as humanly possible. She was the first to pull away from the kiss, tears forming at the bottom of her eyes but never fell. Zayn pulled her back, this time her face went into his neck as he whispered out a small, “Happy New Years, baby.”
May 22nd, 2011:
Senior prom, a day Y/n has waited her entire life for. Getting all dolled up for one night of perfection sounded glorious. Unlike most people, her dress doesn’t reach the floor but goes a little ways past her knees. It was a light shade of green, she wasn’t usually one for the cliche pink and blue, and her stomach was laced over showing her belly button peircing. She felt on top of the world, the most gorgeous she has ever felt in her entire life.
Zayn was in a nude tuxedo, a lightish green tie tucked into the blazer. “It’s prom day, baby, how do you feel?” The now well-known camera placed in front of his face, though he paid no attention to it, but really the girl behind it. “Like I have the most beautiful girlfriend in the world. How did I get so lucky, hm?”
The blush was evident on her face, he could see it perfectly now even with the camera facing him and not herself. He could still see the light in her eyes. Looking back on it, he couldn’t imagine living his life without her, how could he let her go?
It wasn’t like they got in a fight or anything, Zayn and Y/n were going to different colleges and he didn’t want to do the whole long distance thing. He felt she deserved better than that. So even though the breakup was absolutely not a mutual agreement, Y/n somewhat understood and let him walk away.
“You’re such the charmer, Zayn. Always got me blushing for no good reason.”
“I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t.”
Now turning the camera to face both of them, Zayn placed a kiss on her lips before turning off the camera and letting their night go on as best as it could, for it would be one of the last good memories they have. Except at the time, neither of them knew the last time would actually be the last time.
June 4th, 2011:
“Hey everyone, I just want to start off by saying congratulations, we made it. Graduating today was the most amazing feelings, and I’m sure you all can agree with me. The past four years have really taught me a lot, I know I sound like the Mallory Barnes, our valedictorian that gave the speech today, but I’m serious, you all have been amazing. Teachers included.”
Y/n wasn’t in her usual attire. She was in a comfortable baggy hoodie, and that’s all you could see as her camera was propped on the desk in the corner of the room. Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and her glasses were sat perfectly on her nose. What no one could notice was the slight puffiness to her eyes, the way they were red and tired. But Zayn noticed, however. When Y/n first uploaded this to her instagram, Zayn couldn’t bare to watch it, so seeing it now definitely brought back a feeling he tried too hard to push away.
“In the past four years I have learned about friendships, I learned about love, and I learned about heartbreak. I have got to say, high school brought me some really great friendships that I will cherish forever. I am finding it very difficult to say goodbye, but we are bound to go off and do bigger and better things. The future awaits for us.”
“I just want to thank you guys for the amazing memories, and I hope you guys make your dreams come true.” Y/n sighed into the camera, she was really bad at saying goodbye, though you would think it would be easier considering no one likes high school. However, Y/n loved every single second of it, maybe not the learning but the memories made.
“Now, I am going to get really sappy for a minute and say a massive thank you to the man who has loved me for the past four years. Zayn, I know we haven’t talked in a few weeks, and you’re probably not even watching this, but just know that I am so proud of you. I don’t know how I could not be. I really hope you make something wonderful of yourself. You were by far my favorite part of this journey. Thank you for sticking with me and for loving me. And even though we aren’t together anymore, I love you.”
“We almost had it all, didn’t we?”
AN: Yeah, I don't think I like this babahahah. Love the concept but someone out there could definitely write it better.
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Promised Part 8 - Tom Riddle x reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist
Summary: In this story, Tom didn’t grow up as an orphan, but with his grandfather and uncle. Reader’s sister got very sick and the Gaunts offer their help. But not without asking for something in return.
Disclaimer: Please be aware that I don’t condone any of this in real life. (GIF is not mine)
Warnings: Arranged marriage
Word count: 2.9k
Part 8 - Slughorn’s Party
Coming back to Hogwarts after the Christmas holidays was a lot easier this time. Now that you knew Elsie was definitely better, you could enjoy your stay and focus on your studying. Maybe you could also focus on Tom. Both things seemed equally important somehow.
The fact that you could see your best friend Camille again added to the good things Hogwarts had to offer.
You were sitting on her bed in her dorm, telling her everything that had been going on during the last days. The Gaunts who had wanted to force you to do an unbreakable vow, their fight with Tom, that Tom had stayed for a bit, the book he had gifted you and everything in between.
“I can’t believe you got him a snake,” Camille laughed. “What do you think his family said about that?”
“I couldn’t care less what they think of it,” you said jokingly. “Hopefully they’re mad at me.”
“Do you think Tom got in trouble for it?”
“I hope not. But I don’t think so. He knows how to stand his ground.”
“And the book he gave you?” she asked excitedly. “Do you think that it means something? It’s some sort of family heirloom after all.”
You lay down on your back next to her and thought about it.
“I’m not sure. Do you think that was some kind of secret message from him?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll have to look into that.” You rolled over to face her. “And what have you done these days? Tell me all about your presents.”
“Well,” Camille said with a smile. “The presents weren’t the most exciting part of my holiday, to be honest.”
“What?” you asked. “Oh. Hang on, let me guess. You met someone! A guy?”
The smile on her face widened. “I didn’t meet him. I just kept in contact via owl.”
“Oh, Merlin! Who is it? Someone from school?”
She nodded.
“Go on, tell me!”
Her expression suddenly changed.
“You have to promise not to be mad.”
“Why would I be mad?”
“It’s someone you don’t exactly like,” she said, a thick tone of guilt in her voice.
Then you knew.
“No. Don’t. It is Ben Hilt, isn’t it?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Oh, Camille,” you sighed and needed a moment to sort out your thoughts. “Why?”
“He is a very charming boy.”
“He’s a year younger than you.”
“So?” she giggled.
“He wanted to tell on me to the Ministry, so that I wouldn’t be able to marry Tom. Sticks his nose in everybody’s business.”
“He just wanted to help. He thought you were forced to do it. And you have to admit he wasn’t exactly wrong about that.”
“Have you told him about the pact?” you asked and gave her a serious look.
“Of course not. I would never. I told him right from the start that if he’s only after me to get information about Riddle and you, he could piss off.”
“And?”
“He didn’t piss off,” she said happily. “He’s a really nice guy. We never talked about you and Tom after I had made it clear it was none of his business. He didn’t even bring it up, to begin with. I would never date someone who would want to harm you, I swear.”
“Ugh, I know,” you groaned. “You’re too good. For me and for Ben.”
“Shut up,” Camille answered as she nudged your shoulder.
“Hang on. Did you just say ‘date’ someone? Are you official?”
“No. I guess not. But maybe someday. Now, what are you going to wear to Slughorn’s party?”
Slughorn’s annually belated New Year’s party was one of the few exclusive gatherings happening in school. Students could only attend if they had gotten a personal invitation, from Slytherin’s headteacher Horace Slughorn, who would invite his favourite pupil, or rather, the ones he thought looked best in his trophy collection.
Camille, Tom and you had all gotten Slughorn’s owl.
You had not known how to bring up the topic in front of Tom for a while. Even though you were going to marry him, that didn’t mean he wanted to go to the party together. Together, as in, on a date. And yet you had felt too weird asking him about it, so you usually had danced around the subject, awkwardly trying to find out if you were on the same page. Until he had finally said what you had wanted to hear. He had asked when to pick you up from your dorm as if it had been crystal clear to him, that you were going together.
Seven o’clock, as arranged. It had arrived so soon. You hastily fixed the small wrinkles on the hem of your dress with a spell when you heard him knock on the door. Tom looked very posh in his black suit, politely offering his arm. And off you went. Together.
The guests at the party were usually students of year six and seven, as well as some teachers, so you knew most people there. Camille, who had brought Ben with her, looked absurdly pretty in her golden dress. Ben couldn’t have been more proud. He talked to Camille non-stop and really seemed head over heels for her. Right next to them stood two of Ben’s friends, looking all out of character in suits.
Avery and Lestrange came without dates and seemed awfully nervous for some reason. They whispered to each other every time you looked their way.
And then there was Freda Morris. Hogwarts’ head girl, who had her eyes fixated on Tom from the moment you had entered the room. You wondered if she had even noticed you next to him and if she was aware Tom was off-limits. Everyone knew by now that you were engaged after all. Either she didn’t know, or she didn’t care. The expression she sent you, after carefully staring you up and down, told you though, that she was absolutely aware of your relationship. She looked like she wanted to throw you out the next window.
“What in Merlin’s beard?” you muttered quietly to yourself after she had finally turned away from you.
“Pardon?” Tom asked and came closer so he could hear you better.
“Nothing. I just thought Freda was looking at me weirdly.”
“Really?”
“Let’s go over to Camille and Ben, shall we?” you asked, quickly changing the subject.
Tom’s gaze fell right on the two.
“Your friend came with Hilt?” he asked sternly and began to walk their way.
“Um, yes. About that,” you said, pulling lightly on his arm to stop him. “They’re dating. Kind of. They’re not official yet, but, you know, it could lead somewhere.”
He looked like you had just given him the world’s most unnecessary information.
“What are you trying to tell me?”
“That we have to be nice,” you answered and gave him your best fake smile, demonstrating what you wanted him to do.
“Nice?” he asked, gawking so blankly at you, it was almost comical. “You want me to be nice to Benjamin Hilt? After what he’s done?”
“Well… Yes.”
“Why?” Tom asked, genuinely not understanding what you meant.
“Because Camille is my best friend. And she likes him.”
Tom sighed.
“Answer me this,” he said. “Camille knows a lot about you, yes?”
“Yes.”
“I assume she knows about us,” he started talking more quietly. “Our pact?”
“She does.”
He rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
“So?” you asked.
“Isn’t it clear? He’s sweet-talking her to get information.”
“That’s what I first thought too. But Camille swore she wouldn’t tell him a thing. And she said she had made that clear to him from the beginning.”
Tom was still eyeing Ben sharply.
“Come on,” you said and pulled him their way. “I trust Camille. It’ll be fine.”
“It‘s not her I don’t trust,” Tom said under his breath but proceeded to walk towards them with you.
“Good evening,” you said to them.
Camille hugged you and gushed: “You look so beautiful! Oh, you both know Ben, I believe.”
You offered him your hand and Ben shook it, an honest smile on his face.
“Fresh start?” you asked.
Ben nodded and turned to shake Tom’s hand as well. Tom looked at him seriously for a moment, inspecting his hand as if it was covered in Dragon Pox, until you nudged his side with your elbow, urging him to accept, which he reluctantly did.
Slughorn called for dinner before you could talk more, so you all went to the big oval table at the other side of the room.
Ben sat down left to Camille, you to her right and Tom on your other side. The three courses were lavish, as were all feasts at Hogwarts.
Slughorn talked openly across the table, asking his students about their holidays. Freda, obviously trying to impress, mentioned that she had been to France with her family, which didn’t have quite the effect on Slughorn that she had hoped it would.
“Pathetic,” you mumbled and Camille chuckled.
“Mean, aren’t we?” Tom whispered, a grin forming on his face.
“Me? Never.”
He exhaled a laugh through his nose and slowly grabbed your hand beneath the table, taking you by surprise. You looked over to him, your fingers wrapping around his hand, then you pulled it upwards and rested both his and your hand on the table.
“Now you’re just cruel,” Tom jested when Freda looked over and saw the two of you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you answered, biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. “I’m merely holding my fiance's hand. That’s not an act of violence, is it?”
“Fiancé?” Tom asked and cleared his throat.
“Aren’t you?”
“You’ve never called me that before.”
He was right. You had never called him that in person, or when you had talked about him to anyone else.
“Well,” you swallowed, feeling a wave of heat on your cheeks. “It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”
Tom grinned and held your hand a little tighter while glancing down onto the table. “Sure.”
After dinner, the guests spread around the room, chatting and drinking punch while they waited for the first dance of the evening. Slughorn had pulled Tom aside a while ago, asking him for his opinions on different things concerning Potions, politics and the news. He visibly hung to Tom’s every word, clearly awed by his favourite student, nodded and agreed to most of the things Tom said.
You turned your back on them and faced Camille and Ben, still hearing the two chat behind you and thinking of how well-spoken Tom was. He knew how to lull in every teacher by heart.
Each word that left his mouth seemed carefully crafted for Slughorn’s ears only and made him react just as Tom wanted him to. Impressive.
You had engaged in a conversation with Camille and Ben, still keeping an ear on Tom behind you, when Slughorn finally set him free and wished him a nice evening. You expected him to join you, even though he still didn’t like Ben, but suddenly heard an all too familiar voice talking to him.
“Hello Tom,” Freda Morris said, sickly sweet. “How are you? How were your holidays?”
You shot Camille a look, to which she automatically checked the people behind you, eyes wide in disbelief when she peered back at you.
“What are you going to do?” she mouthed silently.
“No idea,” you mouthed back.
Ben stared back and forth between Camille and you, completely confused until he finally noticed what you were whispering about.
“Oh,” Ben snorted. “Someone’s looking for trouble.”
Alright. Freda had not given up on Tom yet. There was a knot in your stomach, pulling bitterly and twisting your insides. You tried to ignore it, took a deep breath and decided to listen to them first. Maybe you were overreacting. You could always jinx her later.
“Oh yes, Paris was wonderful actually,” Freda enthused and had pronounced ‘Paris’ in a weird French accent. “It’s so cosy there around Christmas, you have to go someday.”
“Sounds nice,” Tom answered, rather casually. “Well, if you don’t mind, I-”
“Oh, Tom, actually,” she went on. “I wanted to ask you. Don’t you think we should open the first dance together, as head boy and girl? It’s a tradition, after all.”
Tradition? You had never heard of such a tradition before. Camille and Ben, now eavesdropping too, were as dumbfounded as you. Camille was sincerely shocked, while Ben’s mouth was open, half laughing, half speechless, like a fish on land gasping for air. It seemed that you had not been overreacting, so you turned around, now facing Tom and Freda’s backside.
“I don’t know if that’s actually a tradition, Freda,” Tom said, looking back at you briefly, one side of his mouth pulling upwards.
“Philip Elms and Eve Sterling opened the dance at last year’s party,” she huffed. “They were head girl and boy too.”
“Correct,” Tom agreed. “But they were dating at the time, weren’t they?”
Freda didn’t answer.
“And seeing as we are not dating, I have to politely decline,” he said, again looking at you. “Now excuse me, I have to talk to my fiancée.”
Tom left Freda standing there and the four of you watched her wandering off. No one said a word, you could have sworn Camille was holding her breath until Ben burst out laughing.
“Mate,” he chuckled. “That was… Deadly.”
Tom didn’t laugh, squinting at what Ben had just called him, but nodded appreciatively before he turned to you, offering his hand.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Opening the dance? The music has just started and Slughorn told me I should do it.”
You shook your head amusedly, took his hand and let him take you over to the dance floor.
“For someone who accused me of being cruel, you’re doing a very good job yourself, you know,” you said, keeping an eye out for Freda, in case she planned on hexing you. Better safe than sorry.
“Ah, she’ll be fine,” Tom assured. “Or would you have preferred if I took her to dance?”
You didn’t answer but shot him a smile when you arrived on the dance floor, where you got in position. Tom placed his right hand on your waist and took your right one in his left hand, holding both of them upright below shoulder height. All the guests had gathered around the floor, waiting for you to start dancing. Luckily there wasn’t enough time to get too nervous. It had all happened in a matter of minutes.
“You know how to waltz, right?” Tom asked.
“It’s been a while, but-”
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll lead,” he said and took the first step, spinning in circles in three-four time.
Tom was a good dancer, which didn’t surprise you. He probably had taken courses some years ago, just like you, upon your parent’s request. You kept up with him quite well, only taking a wrong step every now and then.
“If I had known, I would’ve practised,” you mumbled.
“It’s alright, people will join in soon. You’re doing well,” he reassured you and lightly squeezed your waist.
That reminded you of the fact that you had never been so close to each other for more than a moment. Suddenly the spinning felt faster, all eyes focusing on you, burning holes right through you. The only thing steadying you was Tom and his hands.
You spotted Camille in the crowd, who was smiling at you, holding up her hand and giving you a thumbs up. That made you feel a bit more at ease, so you let Tom lead you round the floor, twirling away from people’s stares. Finally, halfway through the song, pairs of people joined in and filled up the dance floor, leaving not much room to be glared at.
Tom looked down at you, a proud smile adorning his face, his eyes softer than you had ever witnessed them before.
“What’s that I’m seeing there?” you asked. “A genuine smile? Certainly a rare sight.”
He swallowed, not changing the way he looked at you.
“Camille was right,” he said quietly.
“She usually is. But what do you mean?”
“Earlier, when we went up to them. She said you look beautiful. You do.”
People’s faces around you seemed to blur and you couldn’t hear them properly anymore. The only thing you saw was Tom’s face and how his eyes still stared down on you. It felt as if you weren’t dancing anymore, but rather floating above the ground, a swarm of butterflies emerging from your stomach. Your hand went from Tom’s shoulder behind his neck on its own and pulled him closer. Closer, just a tiny bit closer, so that you were able to view every single one of his eyelashes. His chest bumped against you and his cologne tickled your nose pleasantly. You let yourself sink into the smell of bergamot and lemon, feeling how his hand squeezed your waist a bit tighter by the second.
Closer, until you both shut your eyes and your lips met in the middle, kissing Tom right out there on the dance floor. You were the only people that had stopped spinning, even though it still felt like you spiralled around a hundred miles an hour. Butterflies turned into aeroplanes, rotating and crashing gently against each other, just like the two of you.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Masterpost | Masterlist
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Guys Like You Chapter 16
Title: Guys Like You
Chapter: 16
Chapter Summary: Meet the family
Rating: 18+
Warnings: None for this chapter
{Prologue} {Chapter 1} {Chapter 2} {Chapter 3} {Chapter 4} {Chapter 5} {Chapter 6} {Chapter 7} {Chapter 8} {Chapter 9} {Chapter 10} {Chapter 11} {Chapter 12} {Chapter 13} {Chapter 14} {Chapter 15}
"How well does she do on flights?" Henry asked quietly, nodding for Faye to slide in first to take the window seat.
"She gets sick on longer flights." Faye explained as he sat down in the aisle seat, resting the snoozing child in his lap, her chubby cheek pressed against his chest as a small bit of drool tumbled from her lower lip.
"It's a little under an hour, do you think she'll be ok?"
"She didn't get sick until after the third hour when we came to England."
"Hopefully she'll just sleep the whole time." Henry sighed, smiling fondly at the child snoozing on him. To say he was excited to introduce his girls to his family was an understatement. He had been practically vibrating with giddiness for the last two days. That in turn wound up Kal and Briar, which meant no one wanted to go to bed. Faye had counted herself lucky to get the child tucked into bed and finally asleep before 11pm the night before. Certainly not enough time for any sort of decent rest before their 6am flight. She could also tell Henry hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, the dark circles under his eyes a dead giveaway, no matter how many times he insisted he was fine.
Maybe they could all catch a nap during the flight. That sounded incredible, though Faye wasn't sure if her nerves would allow her to actually sleep. Henry had assured her over and over that his family would love her, but she had a nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept asking her 'but what if they don't?' Would Henry leave her if his family didn't like her? What if they didn't like Briar? She could be a bit much at times. Maybe they would think she was an awful mother who couldn't control her child. She just had to keep reminding herself that Henry wasn't like that. He wasn't a controlling abuser. He wanted to see her happy. He actually loved her and she was slowly learning how to be loved in return.
Henry reluctantly slid the child from his lap and into her seat before take off, buckling the now grumpy toddler in while Faye gave Briar her stuffed bunny in an attempt to pacify her for the time being. That only resulted in the rather amusing image of an incredibly angry looking toddler hugging a very well loved stuffed bunny, glaring daggers at the seat back in front of her. The second the fasten seatbelt sign went off, Briar was back in Henry's lap, smugly snuggling back into his chest with her bunny tucked under her arm.
"I swear, she likes you more than she likes me." Faye sighed, shaking her head at her daughter.
"I never tell her no." Henry shrugged, giving the child a small squeeze.
"I've noticed." Faye grumbled.
"How do you expect me to say no to that face?" Henry challenged, nodding down to where Briar was already sleeping on him, her cheek squished up against his chest, more drool slowly soaking into his shirt.
"What if she wants to do something dangerous?"
"That's why I have her wonderful, strong, beautiful mother nearby." Henry smiled at her, chuckling at her annoyed look.
"So what are you gonna do with any future children?" Faye shot back, not missing the way Henry's entire demeanor lit up.
"I'll just have to follow your lead." He offered, trying to tame the smile from his face. This was the first time she had mentioned any more children since their scare, and just the thought was enough to make him dizzy with excitement.
"Breastfed that kid for a year and a half, and this is the thanks I get." Faye grumbled to herself, moving over to the middle seat to use Henry's bulky shoulder as a pillow.
"As much as I'd like to say I'll help you every step of the way, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be useless when it comes to that."
"Such a shame, your tits are bigger than mine."
"They are not." Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Mmhmm. Mine only look nice when I roll them up into a bra so you can't see how deflated they are."
"They're the perfect size for my hands."
"And your tits are still bigger."
"Fine, but I still don't think I can breastfeed a baby." Henry relented, his face heating up when he realized the flight attendant had made it to their row with the drink cart. Her look of confused horror was one Faye would remember for years to come.
"I think we're good." Faye half laughed, Henry dropping his head in embarrassment. Sometimes people just walk up at the wrong time in a conversation.
Faye was apprehensive at first when Henry told her his brother would be picking them up from the airport. What if he instantly didn't like her? Would he just leave her there or something? It would make for a very uncomfortable car ride to say the least. Thankfully Niki and his wife turned out to be just as nice and accommodating as Henry kept assuring her they would be. Naturally, Niki stuffed his younger brother into the back seat, allowing his wife to stay up front in spite of her half hearted protest. Faye had the feeling this was an ongoing thing between them.
The sight of a toddler seat in the back, hooked in and ready to go made a strange happiness swell in her chest. Faye was grateful they had taken steps to keep her daughter safe, while Henry was slightly annoyed that he was now crushed even more. With a simple look from Niki's wife, Faye understood that this was just how the brother's were, antagonizing each other whenever possible. Niki wasted no time filling Faye in on a few stories from Henry's childhood, telling her about the time he brought a turtle home and tried to keep it in the bathtub to hide it from his parents. Then he moved on to the time he split his pants at his cousin's wedding when he was fifteen and spent the entire reception trying to talk to the bridesmaids with his underwear showing. The last one he squeezed in before his wife stopped him was when they were all younger and buried him in the snow, having convinced him that's how an igloo was built.
No one hesitated to get out and start unpacking the car once it was parked in front of a rather quaint looking house, Niki tossing Henry's bag at him, Henry 'accidentally' shoulder checking him into the back of the car good natured retaliation. Niki's wife had already gone inside to announce their arrival, giving Faye a chance to talk with her daughter before meeting everyone.
"Now remember sweetie, we need to be on our best behavior for Papa's family today, ok?" She reminded, crouching down and straightening out her daughter's jacket.
"I a good girl." Briar stated firmly, nodding her head in self assurance as she grabbed her mother's hand with her mitten covered fist.
"Yes, you've been a very good girl, even though I can tell you're really tired. I'm very proud of you, sweetheart." Faye praised, giving the child her stuffed bunny before leading her after everyone else.
"And then-" Simon wheezed, pausing to catch his breath through his laughter. "And then Henry comes back inside, covered in mud, sticks in his hair, and he's just like "well, he's not under THAT bush!'." Faye wiped a tear from her eye, holding her aching stomach. She had lost count of the stories that had been retold, everyone seeming to take a turn at ribbing each other. Henry even told the story of Faye accidentally gluing her hand to a makeup brush when she was trying to apply prosthetics. It felt almost too easy settling into his family. He had been completely honest, they were very accepting.
His mother was warm and inviting, pulling her in for a hug and whisking Faye off to the kitchen, putting a glass of wine in her hand before she had even said hello to anyone else. It felt so good to be around a family again. Faye had been close with her parents and her siblings, especially her twin sister, and it was times like this that reminded her of what she had given up to chase her dreams. She had promised to try and be home for Christmas, but life got in the way of her going back the year before. Now it was coming up, and she was wondering if Henry would be alright with going all the way across the ocean just to meet her family. Were they really that serious? She knew they were pretty serious, having moved in together, but she didn't have any prior experience to compare her current relationship to. Would he want to spend Christmas with his family? They were all really nice and probably always spent the holidays together. Would she be interfering with a tradition by asking him to spend Christmas with her family?
"So how did you two meet?" Marianne interjected, everyone suddenly shifting their attention to the couple.
"Uhh... met at work?" Faye offered up, turning to look up at Henry to see if he had anything else to add. Always the eloquent half of the pair, Henry had plenty to tack on, telling them about how this sassy little makeup artist wouldn't give him the time of day no matter what he did to get her attention. He'd tried talking about her tattoo's: nothing. He'd tried talking about the show: nothing. He'd tried to ask her about her life: nothing.
"It wasn't until Briar's birthday that I got anywhere. I swear, if you weren't such an awful baker, you would have never even looked my way. Poor Briar made sure everyone knew you were no good at it too. Briar!" Henry called, smiling when the little girl came running in the room, a dinosaur in one hand and the other covered in a sock. "Briar, how's mummy's baking?"
"Yucky." Briar informed flatly, the adults roaring in laughter while she rushed off to go play with the other children again.
"She's actually managed to simultaneously burn and completely undercook a tray of brownies once. It was amazing."
"Wasn't that also the time I mixed up the salt and the sugar?"
"It was." Henry confirmed, pressing an adoring kiss to her temple.
"That reminds me of the time you accidentally used garlic powder instead of nutmeg in the apple pie one year." Piers turned toward his wife, laughing at her loving glare.
"Alright, alright. Enough." Simon jumped in. "We all know what needs to be discussed. Who is stronger, Superman or the Incredible Hulk?" The entire family seemed to groan in unison; this must be an age old debate.
"Superman, obviously." Henry scoffed.
"No way, the Hulk is indestructible!" Niki threw back.
"So is Superman." Charlie pointed out.
"A little bit of kryptonite and Superman is useless." Simon intervened.
"What are the odds of having kryptonite on hand, though? If we're going to be using weaknesses, when Banner couldn't shift into the Hulk during Infinity War should definitely be brought up." Faye countered.
"But we're not talking about Banner, we're talking about the Hulk, as in he already shifted." Niki complained.
"Didn't the Black Widow have some lullaby thing that turned him back?" Charlie mused.
"Come on, Faye. We all know you're just siding with Superman because you're sleeping with him." Simon teased, Faye rolling her eyes in response. She had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
By the time they returned home just two days later, Faye was utterly exhausted but filled with joy. His family was so warm and inviting. They actually liked her. They didn't look down on her. They didn't question why Henry was with someone like her. They just accepted her and her daughter as one of their own. Two more to add to the Cavill Clan.
Now that they were back at home, it felt almost empty compared to the jam packed house they had just been in. Kal was all too happy to meet everyone at the door, his food bowl still full from the last visit from the dog sitter while their mail was stacked neatly on the kitchen table waiting for them.
Henry left the bags by the bottom of the stairs to take up later, sorting the letters into two separate piles. A large envelope addressed for Faye caught his eye, curiosity prompting him to bring it straight to her.
"What's that?" Faye asked, tossing the clothing from the bags into a laundry basket.
"I don't know. Looks important. Maybe it's informing you that you just became Queen a small unknown country."
"I've always wanted my own country." Faye chuckled, ripping the envelope open and pulling out the papers inside, her face falling more and more with each passing second. Her blood ran cold as teardrops stained the paper.
"What? What's wrong? Faye, you're starting to worry me. What does it say? Is something wrong?"
"My ex... my ex is trying to sue me for custody of Briar."
@weallhaveadestiny @lunedelorient @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @lharrietg @amberangel112 @mansaaay @nostalgicb-txh
#henry cavill#henry cavill x ofc#henry cavill fanfic#henry cavill fanfiction#guys like you#guys like you fic
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As you might’ve noticed already, a few lovelies have organised an artist/writer pairup on our discord server, so I jumped at the chance to participate 😊 I felt particiularly inspired by @melaniecakes‘ piece, which you can find here (or as my most recent reblog!) - it’s moody and somber and beautiful, so I tried my best to capture its essence in writing. I can’t judge how well I did, but I hope you enjoy it regardless 💕 And once again, thank you for this stunning art!! (Bandit/Jäger, Rating E, character study, explicit + fickle?, ~6.5k words)
.
“- heavy rainfall and strong winds later this day, especially here in Northern Germany. People are advised to stay at home and, if possible, not park their cars below trees. Temperatures continue to be in the high twenties -”
Marius switches the radio off.
Pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head, he peers at the incoming street signs until he spots the correct one, denoting the entrance to the holiday park. Once he’s stopped in front of the main building, a block of red brick covered in faded posters, he slides the glasses over his eyes again so he won’t get blinded by the midday sun upon leaving the car. The door makes a worrisome sound as he slams it shut – he hasn’t gotten around to fixing it yet, not with how hectic the past weeks have been. Which is why he’s looking forward to this reprieve even more.
No messages. He slides his phone into the back pocket of his shorts and enters the foyer. A young woman greets him, an adolescent girl on second glance, trying her best to seem professional and visibly enjoying the responsibility she’s allowed to bear. Likely the owner’s or manager’s daughter, maybe niece, who knows. Even though Marius deliberately chose the date to avoid the school holidays, it is a Sunday and so she might have been asked to help out.
“Streicher”, he says and rests his hands on the counter separating them. “I’m not too early to check in, am I?”
She flashes him a practised smile. “Not at all, don’t worry. Let’s see – yes, here’s the reservation. Four nights, correct?”
He nods and watches her type a few words before leaving a brief written note for someone. She’s left-handed: around 11% of Germans are. Sinister, his brain supplies helpfully. An odd word, originally meaning nothing more than ‘left’… or did it carry the same ominous connotation during Roman times as well? He’ll have to look it up later.
“Here you are, you’re in number 167. The swimming pool is open 8 to 6, our restaurant -”
“Thank you”, he interrupts her monologue quickly, “I’ve stayed with you before.”
The girl doesn’t miss a beat. “Then you know your way around. Good! If you have any other questions, feel free to drop by or call the number listed in the brochure on the coffee table. Have a pleasant stay!”
He thanks her once more and slips the two sets of keys into a different pocket. “I hope the weather holds up.”
A shrug. “I heard there’s a storm coming.”
“Yeah”, he says evenly. No messages. He didn’t even realise he was taking out his phone until his eyes strayed to the screen. 13:08, reads the display. “I heard it too.”
He steps back outside.
.
The park is dead.
While his trusty car crawls along, he passes the odd family, a few retired couples, an expectant mother with another female companion. They’re all several houses apart and watch him like his arrival is the most interesting thing to happen to them today. Only in a handful of places does he spot a car and drawn curtains, or other signs of occupancy like the residents making use of the fair weather by lounging in the spacious front yard, sprawling on the garden furniture. It’s too warm for any real activities, but not too hot so people sought shelter inside.
Overall, it’s extremely quiet. Only a low percentage of identical-looking houses is being used and he prefers it this way: he remembers how the glass door and floor-length windows of each bungalow face the narrow paths winding through the facilities. He wouldn’t like to be stared at all day and he enjoys the sunlight too much to hide.
Several of his acquaintances have expressed their distaste for parks like this one, calling them boring, bougie, even suffocating. Many of them were dragged along by their families and now aspire to be anyone other than their parents, so a traditional holiday destination is out of the question. This may be why Marius enjoys it so much: he barely went on vacations with his uncle, and when they did, they often holed up in dingy hotels that left him vaguely claustrophobic.
The house is as he remembers it, only more modern. Nestled in between its twins, it’s nothing special – the same apricot curtains, the same badly-painted front door, the same impersonal furniture. It’s large for one person, more than sufficient for two, and the kitchen must’ve been renovated no more than two or three years ago. Paintings and the odd sculpture are inoffensive, the bed missing its sheets. It feels like a clean slate, which only makes Marius like the place even more. He can be whoever he wants to be in here. He can even be absolutely nobody.
No messages. It’s fine, he tells himself.
He takes his time unpacking. What little clothes he brought looks even less in the massive wardrobe crowding the one bedroom. The large box of groceries, however, feels decadent – he could probably survive for two weeks on all the pasta, rice, snacks, and fresh vegetables he brought, let alone the breakfast items. There’s some solace in placing personal objects around the small house, making it his, but all the open space feels lacking regardless. Lacking someone else’s touch.
An unassuming sound nearly causes him to drop his mug and he hurries to put it down before snatching his phone off the kitchen table. His tomcat’s handsome face has him deflate just as fast as his heartbeat quickened: Emmanuelle is a diligent cat-sitter and provides ample updates, delivered with a heap of emoji. It’s not what he’s been hoping for, but it manages to make him smile still. He replies with more gratitude and wishes her a nice day, then he switches to a barren-looking conversation. And hesitates.
Is he at the stage where he just… waits? Or still at the point where he openly shows his excitement, draws in, makes an effort? Inquiring about the house number is yet another obstacle he could remove, and he so does want to pave the way. Plus it’s another reminder.
167, he types and sends. Stares at the singular check mark denoting it’s been sent successfully until it turns into a double. Message received. He chews his lip and waits a minute, waits until the 3 turns into a 4 at the top right of the screen, and then switches off the screen. Just as the lights go out, the check mark turns blue. Hastily unlocking it again and failing twice, cursing the fingerprint sensor for its inaccuracy, he makes sure he saw correctly and yes, it’s blue now. Message seen. He vaguely hopes he’s caused a guilty conscience even though he’s sworn to give up the habit of being petty.
Shouldn’t take long now.
He finally remembers that he has to pee, which is a regular occurrence: he forgets about bodily functions when he’s absorbed in anything, and making the bungalow somewhat homely preoccupied his mind entirely. The bathroom is sterile and cold, though he prefers renovated over cosily dilapidated. The person staring back at him as he washes his hands seems young, with every consequence to it; expectant, lively, too immature to know better. The wrinkles in the corners of his eyes deceive. There are mistakes he still has to make. Turning the tap off, he notices it being slightly loose – he could fix it, but he doesn’t want to interfere with what isn’t his.
For a while, he sits outside in the shade of his temporary abode and just stares into the sky until everything else loses all colour, looks like an old faded photograph. A few voices drift over, nothing he can make out, and his ears prick up whenever someone drives by. No one stops near him. The boredom feels cathartic at first and, later, infuriating. Impatience rises fast as does irritation, an all-encompassing annoyance centring on himself and the whole situation. He came here to unwind and so he’s even angrier with himself for getting worked up.
A brief notion urges him to remain where he is, as if he could punish anyone other than himself by refusing to do anything meaningful. As if it mattered whether he spent the time reading or passive-aggressively waiting for something. He’d end up angrier for sure, and an unwelcome part of him wants to harvest it, collect it, weaponise it into righteous fury.
More like self-righteous.
He rises and gets back into the house.
.
It always feels like he’s getting the sequence wrong – arrives and unpacks before peeing, finally eats the lunch he forgot for several hours, showers next and stands there with his head tilted back and mouth open because it didn’t occur to him to drink anything with his sandwiches. If his schedule is interrupted, if he doesn’t pay close enough attention to what he’s supposed to be doing, he messes it up and pays the price later. He’s lucky he remembered in time.
He brushes his teeth and accidentally hits the loose tap so he ends up with a large wet spot in his crotch.
No messages.
Sprawling horizontally on the bed while letting his hair air-dry, he scrolls up on his phone, up from the received and seen message without a reply. Doesn’t look at the dates, he doesn’t need that right now, but a few messages catch his eye. A few photos. The references.
Last time he was here, in this very park, he barely left the house. The first day yes, a long walk followed by some takeaway, visiting the swimming pool, and then? If looks could kill, neither of them would’ve survived the next-door death glare by both parents the one morning they stepped outside for a fag – they went shopping in a closing supermarket that night because they’d slept all day, angering the cashier as well. Marius did feel bad about it, partly, but he didn’t care enough to change anything.
They kept the curtains closed permanently and it was for the best: being surrounded by families meant they needed to be careful in case a brat saw more than it should have. The weather wasn’t as hot as it is now, yet they ended up wearing a minimum of the clothes they’d brought.
Memories stir something in him, a warmth between his legs. This is also what he came for, a spark to reignite once-smouldering coals, and the past is a solid foundation to build on. He closes his eyes and drops his phone on the pillow next to him, his only companion in the large bed. Fingers creep lower, leave behind a tingling sensation he intensifies with vague daydreams; there’s a voice muttering empty phrases in his ear, hands touching him wherever he wants. The shadowy figure in his mind performs his usual choreography – years of daily practise makes perfect, and it has him hard in seconds. He remembers the time they did it standing up in the kitchen of this house’s counterpart, drunk on cheap wine and each other, the position uncomfortable and not deep enough and still it was the hottest thing.
Marius rolls over so he can reach behind, brushes his fingertips over quivering muscle for a while before he succumbs and grabs the tube off the bedside table. He brought a full one in anticipation, and if he’s honest, he wouldn’t mind spending a holiday like that again: fuck all night, sleep all day, screw the rest of the world. When it’s not focused on absorbing knowledge, his brain is preoccupied with sex more often than not and though he probably deserves to be called old by now, his body manages to keep up. This won’t be the last time he’s using the lube, that much is clear.
A new thought fuels his want, his brain latching on to the scenario instantly, his cock jumping at the idea. The prospect. If he takes his time, he could get walked in on, interrupted at the crucial moment, inspire mirroring desire and set the tone for the next days. Differing sequences are possible and his mind plays through all of them in seconds until he decides on one, elaborates on it, fills it with lush and luscious detail. He’s called names, named obscene, sputters excuses before he can’t verbalise anything anymore, what with the shaft down his throat.
He tries to hold out to increase the chance of his fantasy coming true, but ultimately, his self-discipline isn’t good enough. Panting into the fresh linen of his pillow, he splatters the white sheets even whiter as he feels the tension rolling out of him in waves. Catching his breath, he falls onto the clean half of the bed and stares at a hairline crack in the corner.
How long since his masturbation fantasies turned monogamous? He can’t even remember jerking off while thinking of anybody else. The thought is more sobering than the general post-orgasmic clarity. Compatible libido isn’t everything, and yet the scenes his brain dreams up in the heat of the moment only feature one man. It’s made staying mad difficult, and cutting contact nigh impossible.
No messages. “Fuck”, he breathes, and it feels good. He doesn’t swear often. “Fucking asshole. Fuck this.”
While washing his hands, he turns the tap on a little too much and creates a puddle on white tile.
.
It’s a different person manning the reception now, for which he’s grateful. He tries to compare this woman’s features to the ones of the girl earlier but fails to recognise any similarities – his uncle claims bad people memory runs in the family, but Emmanuelle called him out by stating it’s due to lack of interest. She’s probably right, he’ll remember the first receptionist to be left-handed but couldn’t recall her hair colour. People rarely manage to keep his attention.
“Hi, sorry, I just have a quick question”, he announces his presence as he steps closer to the counter where he checked in. “The park restaurant, it’s only dine-in, correct?”
“Yes, only dine-in”, the woman confirms. She’s not as eager to please but friendly nonetheless.
“Is there a takeout nearby that you can recommend?”
Around her neck, she’s wearing a pendant with a Celtic knot and he wonders whether she’s ever even been to the UK or Ireland or whether she only likes the design. Not that there’s anything wrong with appreciating traditional symbols, but ignorance about their origin is the first step towards putting one’s foot in one’s mouth. Even so, he’s well aware of swastikas traditionally representing auspiciousness – but it doesn’t mean he can stop cringing inwardly whenever he sees one, no matter the context. He was once asked in jest whether a tattoo of a left-facing one would be -
The woman is looking at him expectantly and he realises he didn’t catch a single word.
“Could you repeat that, please?”
“I can draw a map for you, if that’s easier.”
“An address would be even better.”
He’s relieved to see her jot down a street name and a house number and briefly ponders whether he should explain his preference for precise data as opposed to subjective descriptions when he notices her to be left-handed as well. Likely a family connection after all. Who needs to remember faces when he can rely on genetics instead?
As he steps back outside, there’s already a thin cloud layer dulling the previously bright sunlight.
.
Before dinner, he goes mini-golfing. Of all the activities which make someone by themselves look atrociously alone, minigolf must be in the top 10% - he overtakes a laughing family, the daughter constantly haggling as to what constitutes a stroke, her younger brother just happy to participate. They’re the only ones on the course apart from Marius himself, possibly due to the noticeable change in weather: with every passing minute, the sky darkens, and the occasional light breeze intensifies increasingly. There’s no trace of the sun by the time he’s done taking turns putting and writing down his score, and the first drop of rain hits his nose the second he hands over the borrowed club.
Despite not being superstitious, he’d made a deal with himself: if he manages not to check his phone the entire time, there’ll be something afterwards. A notification, a missed call, anything – a reward for distracting himself, for interrupting this obsession. Enough time has passed since his message was received and read (but not acknowledged), the drive over from the capital about as long as his own, maybe shorter.
Emmanuelle has sent another snapshot of his tomcat. No other messages.
He kinda wishes the club back, right back into his hands. Hope has been stretched thin, so now it’s time for utter disillusion to take over, together with pure spite. Alright, nothing is going to happen today. Fine. He’ll be here for four more days after all, that’s enough time for anything he has or doesn’t have in mind. It’s fine. No need to check his phone anymore.
It’s fine.
Back at his house, he turns the key so sharply he hurts his fingers. Trying to cool them under running water leads to him nearly knocking the entire tap loose, so he slams the bathroom door shut behind him and angrily gets his toolbox from the car. This is ridiculous. He knows how to repair basic plumbing and if he told the people responsible, he’d have to wait at least a day, probably more.
It takes him thirty-six minutes to fix the tap and by the end, it’s as good as new. He knows how long it took because he kept checking his phone.
At this point, the light drizzle from before has vanished, and still there’s a foreboding silence. The earth is holding its breath, just waiting for the other shoe to drop: an almost purple sky threatens with fast-moving mountains of clouds and as he looks North, there’s a proper cloud bank approaching. Despite the hour, it feels like night already with how gloomy it is. The air presses against his lungs from outside, thick and humid. There’s electricity in the space around him. A storm is brewing.
.
He eats dinner with the lights on. A few more threatening drops fell onto his windscreen, yet nothing else has happened so far. Absolutely nothing.
The shop was small and crowded, always a good sign, yet he was glad to be able to take his food to a quieter place. A documentary running on his propped-up tablet, chewing chips with some of the skin still on, a steaming mug of coffee next to him, it’s almost cosy. He regrets not bringing any books if only because they’d liven up the place, something all the charger cables and electrical equipment don’t achieve somehow.
David Attenborough narrates over some alien-looking deep sea critters – one of his current fixations – and he feels at peace. Once he’s let go of any and all expectations and accepted that whatever happens, happens, it’s much easier to enjoy the change of scenery. He’s looking forward to lying in bed, finishing the research paper Wamai dug up for him and listening to soft pattering on the roof. This is how it is, this is how it’s always been. He knows it. And still hopes for change much too often.
He hasn’t checked for messages in a while.
.
The drumming of the rain almost drowns it out.
He’s ready for bed, wearing a thin t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, getting himself a glass of water when he hears it. A soft roaring: a familiar engine approaches, one he’s worked on many times, audible through the water pouring down as if it was too stubborn to be ignored. His heart jumps and sinks, his stomach cramps up in anticipation because now there’s no mistaking it, this isn’t anyone else claiming one of the surrounding houses. He’s coming to claim this one.
Marius sets the glass down by the side window, leans against the windowsill and panics – he should’ve looked busy, maybe, or jumped into bed quickly to make it seem like he fell asleep waiting, or maybe hidden the second portion of chips he foolishly bought because he’s unable to give up entirely and isn’t that part of why he’s here right now?
He can’t make out the sound of the motorcycle stand, nor of the holding box being opened and closed, but what he does hear is the door opening. That’s right, he forgot to lock it and this time, it really was an accident as he would’ve loved to have him knock instead, get drenched for a few seconds longer while he waits for Marius to let him in.
Heavy boots walk closer.
Even now, his thoughts are racing trying to decide what he should or shouldn’t have done, whether he should’ve dressed differently or how he should react in a moment, but then he’s there and all thoughts are wiped off his mind instantly.
They look at each other. If Marius were holding anything, his hand would shake.
“Hi”, says Dom.
His voice is raspy and his appearance scruffy: an unknown type of dirt is smeared on his cheek and forehead, his wet hair sticking to his head probably because of the helmet and the rain equally, the leather covering his thighs dripping water to the floor. His jacket glistens in the soft light, small rivulets running down his arms to add to the growing puddle by his feet. He smells of mud and smoke. He’s smiling so brightly he looks like an idiot.
Lightning illuminates the scene briefly, like a paparazzi who caught a huge scoop – as if there was any secret surrounding them – and not even two seconds later, thunder strikes. The deep rumble is blood-curdling, makes his heart skip a beat and doesn’t stop for an eternity, growling on and on as nature rages outside. The storm is here.
“Did you drive carefully?”, he asks because he doesn’t know what else to say. Dom is surrounded by the cautious joy of someone who knows they did something wrong but tries not to care, not to show.
“Yes”, he lies as smoothly as always. He’s painfully present, sticks out like a realistic element in a surrealist painting – not meant to be there but fulfilling a role somehow, unexpected, in stark contrast to his surroundings. Marius wants to sink into his arms, make him say that everything’s fine, that he’ll never have to worry about anything ever again. He’s tall, imposing, broad, inviting because he’s his. Like a wild animal he tamed: intimidating to everyone else, safe for him and him alone. Dom’s beard is unkempt and he looks like he needs a shower.
All the reproach melts. The irritation fades. The unbearable boredom pales against the blunt reality of Dom being here right now and Marius is scared of how intense the effect is. Still is. The magnetic attraction between them, the reason why Dom said yes to Marius’ idea of visiting the holiday park back then and this time, the very thing which kept them inside all day last time they were here.
“I missed you so much this last month”, Dom adds and now he’s not lying. Maybe.
The next crack of thunder is just as loud as the one before, following Dom’s words and masking the sound of Marius’ glass falling over. Did he twitch? He must have, though he doesn’t remember, can’t feel the impact, only knows he’s truly and utterly doomed.
“I’m glad you’re here”, is the only truth he dares to speak and they’re having a whole different conversation beneath all this, a back-and-forth, an exchange of concessions and accusations though Marius feels like they’re all coming from him. He can’t stand the atmosphere, the tension, the waiting. He leaves his spot when the next lightning bolt flashes, and sinks into Dom’s embrace as thunder strikes again.
He’s the one who turns it sexual, almost immediately. How could he not? Dom is so much his type it hurts, all gruff and cheeky and strong, plus he’s fucking sexy in his biker gear, looking ready to beat someone up at all times, his tattoos peeking out from below yellow-striped black sleeves. His solid frame only just fits into Marius’ arms and he’s hard everywhere, stiff leather, toned muscle, the bulge in his crotch he’s probably been nursing ever since he entered the park. Dom starts out with a simple hug, squeezing him so tight a few joints crack, but when Marius’ hands land on his ass, he understands.
Dom lets him bite his earlobe and suck on his neck and nearly climb up his body in the attempt to get as close as possible, and when it’s clear that Marius isn’t going to stop anytime soon, when it’s obvious he won’t say anything or ask anything until after, when he pants an impatient come on into a coarse beard, Dom relaxes into it. Their tongues meet and Marius lets out a desperate moan as they trade hungry open-mouthed kisses. He needs this like air, needs a reminder, needs to remember how it feels in person instead of only in his head. Now he can smell sweat as well, even in this weather and at the speeds Dom races along, it’s too warm for all these clothes. It’s driving him insane.
Cold fingers slip into his underwear, grab and spread his cheeks and he interrupts their making out to gasp hurriedly: “I’m ready. I did myself after dinner, half an hour ago. I’m still wet.”
“Jesus Christ”, Dom growls in his ear and he squirms with want at the deep voice. Marius is spun around and nudged towards the kitchen table, nudged with a leg between his, a leg he presses against as he props himself up on the table surface. He might as well not have jerked off at all today with how aroused he is. Dom pushes himself against Marius’ back, nearly from head to toe, and mutters: “Needy little bitch.”
Marius’ knees go weak. He feels blood rush to his crotch and the tips of his ears, and when Dom yanks his briefs down, he’s digging his fingernails into the wood. They’re gonna do it standing up, his favourite, just like back then when all the previous flirting and side glances and secret winks and accidental touches culminated in the hottest five days of his life, when a getaway with a friend – a co-worker even – turned into something else entirely.
It takes too long, the whole unzipping and getting some lube anyway and lining up, but when Dom finally enters him, when the blunt head pushes inside, when Marius feels himself opening up and accepting his cock whole, he can’t breathe anymore. A shaky whine is all that escapes him, and then Dom takes advantage of how relaxed and stretched he is by pulling out and slamming back in. Hard. And Marius is ready to come the moment Dom hits his prostate for the first time.
His eyes are tearing up from the intense pleasure of getting pounded like this, Dom hitting all the right places in all the right ways and he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up even for a second. Marius moans and can’t even hear the rain anymore, ignores the rumbling thunder in favour of his own heartbeat’s staccato as he tries to escape from this onslaught and bask in it simultaneously. If this is what he’s been waiting for, it’s worth it, more than worth it: he’s in heaven, forgetting everything other than the way Dom thrusts into him over and over again.
Teeth scrape over the back of his neck, fingers grip his hips so hard it hurts, Dom’s breath is in his ear. He’s in ecstasy as well, fucking like there’s nothing else in the world, sinking deep into Marius’ tight heat. He feels bigger than normal, more intense, and the words he pants against Marius’ shoulder are words he doesn’t say often. But now, he repeats them time and time again as he gets them both closer to their climax.
Marius times it so they come together, barely having to touch himself to reach orgasm, and their moans mix as they’re pushed over the edge simultaneously. They pant, shudder, tense up completely, tremble with relief and hold on to each other, Dom with his arms wrapped around Marius’ torso, Marius grabbing one of Dom’s thighs as they ride it out together. They slow down, catch their breaths, stay for a few seconds to come back down. Dom’s frame supports him until he regains control of his muscles and in the pleasant afterglow, he’s immensely grateful.
Lips pepper his cheek and temple with kisses. “I need a shower”, Dom mumbles into his hair and he nods.
“Me too.”
“You go first, I’ll take longer.”
It’s a mistake, but only Marius knows this. When left alone, he sobers up hard. And he might just remember that Dom was supposed to be here about half a day earlier.
Again.
.
“Who did you meet?”
Now’s the time when Dom won’t meet his eyes anymore. Instead of cutting an imposing figure, he looks weak in his pyjamas, thinner, older. He doesn’t insult Marius by asking him how he knows. They’ve been here before. “An ex-cop”, comes the quiet reply. “Explained to me why he wasn’t one anymore. The things he had to tell – thirty years ago, before we started? You don’t want to know what was acceptable then. You don’t want to hear the stories he heard from his seniors. It was… disheartening, to say the least.”
Marius crosses his arms. He’s leaning against the kitchen counter while Dom is nibbling at the chips, perched uncomfortably on the couch. A bad conscience doesn’t make a healthy appetite. “That bad?”
“Worse. Corruption doesn’t even cut it. The worst is the laziness, you know? The cold-bloodedness. His boss flat out told them to ignore some shit, so they did. Stopped caring. Picked their battles. It’s not that they… were malicious, or anything. If that makes sense. Just cold. Devoid of empathy.”
“I believe it. We’ve seen worse.”
“Not that systematically, not in Germany. It was almost the entire state.”
Granted, it sounds shocking.
And this is the absolute worst about it: there’s always a good reason. An inspirational or terrifying story to hear, an interesting person to befriend, a chance meeting of one in a thousand. Dom thrives in the company of strangers and never gets tired of rehashing the same old stories he’s perfected through pure repetition. Marius knows how important these random coincidences are for him, how much he enjoys exchanging life stories with people he’s never seen before and will never see again. He’s learnt languages just for this purpose. It’s part of his self-worth.
Why didn’t you exchange numbers?, he asked Dom once, twice, thrice. Why didn’t you try to stay in touch?
And Dom eventually replied with the real reason – a slip-up, he might not have meant to reveal it to anyone, but he was probably drunk or distracted, because he said: What would I have to gain?
Which explains everything.
It explains many of the fruitless conversations they’ve had, it’s the answer to so many questions Marius asked. Because it shows how Dom interacts with the world. How goal-driven he is. How incredibly greedy.
He wants to possess everyone with the least amount of effort. If he knows somebody’s life story, if they’ve given up important parts of themselves to Dom, he now owns them. And keeps them. For what reason, Marius still doesn’t understand, but Dom will not pass up a chance of stealing anyone.
He needs no friends, he needs an audience. He needs no lover, he needs someone to fill the gaps in between.
And just like he described his newest affectation’s co-workers and superiors: there’s no inherent malice in what he does, but a lack of self awareness and empathy. On a surface level, he realises he’s acting wrong somehow. Yet he can never fully understand why Marius is not content being second to complete strangers. Over and over again.
The realisation hits him like the rain is pelting the outside world: if he allows it, it’ll go on. He alone decides on how long this will continue, how many days he’ll waste like this, permeated by this man without ever containing him – because Dom would never make a decision like that. He has nothing to gain from ending whatever it is they have.
“I’m going out”, Marius says. He needs to process it, and by that he means: process the decision he’s already made. He can’t keep up with someone who has no object permanence, to whom he’s convenient when he’s there and irrelevant when not.
He can leave, tell Dom to pack his things and go, then return and pack up himself. The money’s gone, a partial refund is unlikely, but that’s the price of it. The money doesn’t hurt as much as the memories he won’t relive now, the new memories he won’t make. Dom makes a feeble attempt to stop him, asks him where he’s going, mentions the weather, yet Marius’ mind is made up. He gets dressed quickly and doesn’t look in Dom’s direction. It’s so incredibly hard to refuse him directly.
When he steps outside, he realises he’s underestimated the storm. Wind howls and yanks the door out of his hand, slamming it against the inside wall; rain instantly drenches him like a cold shower, running down his back and soaking his thighs on the short path to his car. There are puddles everywhere, a million mirrors reflecting the forked lightning which spreads over the sky, travels horizontally and leaves behind a crass afterimage. He’s freezing, he didn’t pack for this kind of weather and shakes out his phone once he’s made it into his car, tosses it onto the seat next to him. Droplets hang on his eyelashes, his hair lets water drip down the back of his collar. It’s miserable. It’s absolutely miserable and he feels like crying.
Even on the highest setting, the windscreen wipers can’t keep up with the sheer torrent falling from the heavens: it’s difficult to see more than a few metres ahead. He crawls onto the narrow path and tries to remember where to go, moves by memory rather than sight, at a snail’s pace. Dom could run after him if he wanted to, but he probably knows it’s futile. He turns the heating on at full blast but is hit with cold air instead, making him shiver. It takes a bit to heat up.
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees his phone light up.
He ignores it.
He creeps past where he thinks the reception is, jumping at sudden thunder, and wonders whether there’s still anyone inside. Hopefully they’re all safe at home. Like he should be.
Just when he wants to turn onto the proper street to leave the holiday park, there’s a dip in the road. A dip who knows how deep. A dip completely filled with water. The downpour has turned it into a small pool and Marius is not ready to sacrifice his car to the elements.
Defeated, he turns the engine off and leans his forehead against the steering wheel. He can’t go anywhere in this weather. Dom certainly can’t either, it’s a miracle he made it here in the first place and Marius is not about to throw him out with nowhere to go, no. He can sleep on the couch.
Who is he kidding, there is no way Dom will sleep on the couch when they’re under the same roof, and it’s not gonna be Dom’s fault. Marius can’t keep away from him, and right now it feels like some malevolent weather god doesn’t want him to either.
His eyes burn and his cheeks are wet again, not just from rain this time. With blurry vision, he picks up his phone after a while and squints at it to read the notifications.
3 new messages.
I’m sorry, is the first one. Too little too late. Marius wipes his face with a sleeve and it ends up clammy regardless. The next one is more of the same: I’m really sorry babe. I try but it’s not enough. I think of you all the time but I don’t know how to show it. He’s heard it before and won’t blindly believe it this time, not anymore. If he can’t even reply to a message for several hours, then no. It’s not enough.
The third one, however, gives him pause. Either way, please keep the gifts on your back seat. I bought them for you.
Confused, he turns around and spots a bag from his favourite bookshop in Berlin which wasn’t there the last time he was in his car. Trying not to get them wet, he takes out the large volumes and reads the titles, one by one, lips moving. It’s five books, differing in target group but all on the same topic: the deep sea. There’s a thick coffee table book with nothing but beautiful photography, a biography of a famous marine biologist, a supposedly well-researched novel and two more scientific publications.
They’ve never given each other gifts before, not like this – favours, yes, smaller birthday presents, takeaway, trinkets.
And not only did Dom think of him, not only did he decide to gift him something special just because, no, he remembered his current interest. Remembered his favourite bookshop. He might not be certain of what kind of literature Marius prefers, but he got it all, just to be safe. At least he didn’t get a colouring book.
In a way, this is in line with how Dom is: in the heat of the moment, he knows just the things to say to mollify or distract Marius. To make him forgive just this once. If he’d turned up at Marius’ door with these after they’ve had a fight, after today, or as an excuse or an apology, Marius would’ve been genuinely hurt at how calculated it’d be. That he’d weaponise something like this.
But they hadn’t had a fight prior to today. Dom didn’t introduce them as an apology. He secretly put them in Marius’ car as a surprise. He might not even get to see Marius’ face as he finds them. And why?
Just because.
What does he have to gain from it? Next to nothing, if anything at all.
Marius looks out at the dimly illuminated hellscape, the surface of the impenetrable water hole dancing under all the rain. He looks at his phone, at 3 messages.
Then he takes a deep breath and puts his car in reverse.
#rainbow six siege#bandit#jäger#bandit/jäger#fanfic#oneshot#the first half was stressful to write not gonna lie#I hope you like it mel!!#no one is ever too old to start figuring stuff out#but jäger please
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I posted 2,999 times in 2021
608 posts created (20%)
2391 posts reblogged (80%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 3.9 posts.
I added 975 tags in 2021
#bts smut - 176 posts
#bts fic - 168 posts
#bts - 144 posts
#sr - 92 posts
#namjoon - 79 posts
#kpop smut - 72 posts
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#icymi - 62 posts
#kpop fic - 59 posts
#jungkook - 57 posts
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
What are you doing Stepbro?
BTS reactions/scenarios - You are/are about to be stepsiblings
Smut
Warnings: so much oral, public, panty stealing, voyeurism, degradation, probably some others I missed....
4634 words - Enjoy
Namjoon
You’d not been in the shower long when the image sneaks into your mind
Your stepbrother after last night’s concert
Tongue running over his lips
Hair slicked back with sweat
Those brand-new muscles of his flexing in the lights.
The thought was positively sinful
You couldn’t help reaching for the detachable shower head
You lent back and closed your eyes, aiming the water pressure where you needed it most
You’re unsure of exactly how long you stood there with the jet pressed against you.
But it was long enough for Namjoon to get annoyed and barge in, maybe forgetting that you would be naked behind the bathroom door.
Maybe not caring
“For fucks sake Y/N you always use all the hot water when I’m home, you need to…”
Whatever the end of that sentence was going to be you never get to hear it.
Because he stops when he hears your name tumble from your lips
Once he takes in the compromising position you are in
And the fact you were thinking about him
There’s no blood left in his head to finish that thought.
Somehow you hadn’t heard him over your music and the water
But he takes the moan as an invitation
He removes his clothes and slides back the shower door.
Reaching for you and pulling you back into him before you have time to react to the surprise by falling over.
You scream anyway and he rushes to put a hand over your mouth
“Shush.” He whispers in your ear “Do you want mom and dad to know what a bad girl you’re being? Thinking about your brother while you get yourself off?”
His hands run down your sides before taking the shower head from you and replacing it on the wall
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315 notes • Posted 2021-07-10 11:29:05 GMT
#4
Cosy
You blackmail your roommate Jungkook into coming along to your family Christmas party so you can pretend you aren't the only single over 20 left.
Prompt: fluffy with smut
8)“It’s too cold, I can’t sleep.”
10)“You look so cosy.”
17)“I can’t let you spend (holiday) alone.”
No kinks were included but there is a lot of biting in this for some reason...
“Pretty pretty pretty please JK? I’ll do your laundry for a month?” You beg.
“I send my laundry out.” He says not even looking away from his phone.
“I’ll buy all your drinks on the next night out?” You bargain.
“With a face this pretty you think I buy my own drinks?” He scoffs.
“I’ll help you get a date with Nabi?” surely flaunting your work friend would work? He is always staring at her
“I’m not interested Y/N. Nothing on this earth could make me want to go with you to your families Christmas party.” Jungkook stands from the sofa and starts to head into his room.
“Please? I can’t be the only single one over 20 again! Pretty please.”
“Umm? Be your fake boyfriend for a night of boring conversation with your uncles? OR? Game all night with the boys and making fun of you when you get home?” He says weighing his hands like they are scales.
“I will share those photos of you from the Halloween party if you don’t” That makes him hesitate.
“You wouldn’t..?”
“Try me!” You smirk to yourself knowing you’ve won. He’d passed out at the end of the last Halloween party and Jin and Jimin had thought it’d be absolutely hilarious to take bits from costumes that had been abandoned throughout the evening and dress him up a bit. He ended up looking less than hot in his new coconut bra, cowgirl hat, and smeared red lipstick.
You were about to start gloating when he launched himself across the room at you. Unprepared to hold the sudden weight of a man made of muscle, you fell to the ground hard as he tried to wrestle your phone out of your grasp. He tickled your sides until you released the device. He then manhandled you into unlocking it and sat on your chest until he found the offending photographs.
“There, now you have no blackmail.” He says triumphantly.
“Those aren’t the only copies Kookie, I’m not that stupid.” You roll your eyes and start pushing at his legs to get him off your chest. It’s very difficult to breathe with your roommate crushing your lungs (For more than one reason if you’re being honest). The man pouted as he helped you up from the floor.
“You know if you’d offered like one more nice thing I would’ve just gone right?” He said dusting himself and then you off.
“No, you wouldn’t” You shrugged. “Anyway the party is on Friday, we should only be there like two hours and then we can go to the bar or something and get those drinks I’m going to owe you.” He nods.
The party wasn’t altogether awful, but it was a lot longer than you had promised it would be. The two of you had been stuck helping out. On the bright side your mother was delighted that you and Jungkook were finally dating… There was a lot of ‘finallys’ and ‘about time he asked yous’ floating around that you kept forgetting to ask about as you got swept away by another family member.
It was about 11 pm by the time the party died down enough that you thought it’d be okay to slip away. Your nieces, nephews, and cousins kids had all fallen asleep in their parent's arms and been carried away, your grandparents were eager to beat the snow, and the last of your parent’s friends were gathering their coats. You glance at Jungkook who, despite his protests, seemed to be having a great time talking to your dad. You decided to leave them be and help your mom a little with clean up. You chatted away to your mum as you gathered plates and glasses from around the downstairs. None of you had bothered to look outside. Jungkook came to find you about an hour later.
“You ready to go sweetheart?” He asked hugging you from behind and catching you off guard. He’d been doing it all night. Small touches to make your ruse seem more realistic. Holding your hand when you walked in, stroking your thigh as you sat down, a hand in your back pocket to keep you together. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered ever time he threw in a term of endearment. If only they were real.
“Go?” Your dad asked “Have you not seen the snow? I’m not letting you kids go anywhere in that.” He points to the kitchen window. No wonder you hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out though, you can’t see anything that was further than a foot away. Everything is covered in a thick blanket of pristine snow, and it was still coming down hard.
“Oh dear, I wasn’t expecting guests… We only have your room free at the minute, Christmas has taken over your sister's room.” Your mom states.
“Well, what’s wrong with your room?” Jungkook asks nuzzling into your neck. You swat him away as his breath tickles.
“I took my double bed to our place, so they bought a single to replace it.” You explain.
See the full post
359 notes • Posted 2021-12-09 15:46:39 GMT
#3
Jeon Jungkook
Smut - 🥵 Angst - ☠️ Fluff - 💗
With All My Heart – Friends To Lovers 🥵💗
Jungkook returns from tour, determined to get you to stop treating him like a child
Why Don’t You Love Me Like I Do? – Yandere🥵☠️
Jungkook can’t understand why you wouldn’t want him the way he wants you.
Pretty Baby – Sub!JK 🥵
Tied up and helpless, you are free to edge your little bunny to your hearts content.
Dinner Time – Cockwarming 🥵
You don’t get to eat until Jungkook says so
Noona – Noona kink🥵
JK is desperate for you to see him as the man he really is.
Just One More – Subspace🥵
Fully out of it, JK begs you for just one more orgasm
Please?☠️
Trying to help him after a long day, you put away your boyfriend’s things for him. Halfway through unpacking his bag, you come across something that makes you feel sick.
Her☠️
After six months away you are more than excited to see your friend, until he turns up on your doorstep with someone else.
Love Of My Life🥵💗
When you turn up at the BigHit comeback party, the last thing you expect to see is a new girl hanging off of your friend.
Emergency!💗
You rush home when Jungkook calls refusing to explain what’s wrong.
Biggest Fan🥵 ☠️ 💗
You go to JK’s gig determined to end the night in his bed
Can We Recover?☠️
You come home early to surprise your fiancé, only to find him on the phone to his best man
Brother’s Best Friend🥵
You hate your brother’s best friend, but when your asshole boyfriend abandons you in a club you are left with no other option for a lift home.
Sweethearts🥵☠️💗
You were set to go to college with your high school sweetheart. It couldn’t have been more perfect… until you broke up in the first year.
See the full post
369 notes • Posted 2021-02-21 04:00:26 GMT
#2
Kinktober 2021 masterlist
Namjoon – Breath Play This work contains dubious consent
Jin – Yandere This work contains dubious consent
Yoongi – Pegging
Hobi – Bondage, sub!Hobi
Jimin – Thigh Riding
Taehyung – Strength
Jungkook - Praise, sub!JK
OT7 x reader – How Y/N met Bangtan pt1 (Maknae line)
Namjoon – Blindfold, Gorgon Reader
Jin – Edging, sub!Jin, Genie Reader
Yoongi – Love, Muse Reader
Hobi – Cock Warming, Mermaid Reader
Jimin – Mommy, Omega Jimin
Taehyung – Somnophilia, Incubus Taehyung
Jungkook – Service!dom, Vengeance Demon Jungkook
OT7 x reader – How Y/N met Bangtan pt2 (Hyung line)
Namjoon x Jimin – Spit
Jin x Jungkook – Cum Eating
Yoongi x Hobi – Chikan
Hobi x Jin – Dry Humping Fem!domme
Jimin x Taehyung – Body swap/spit roast
Taehyung x Yoongi – Double Penetration
Jungkook x Namjoon – Overstimulation
Namjoon – Impreg
Jin – Aftercare
Yoongi – Orgasm Control
Hobi – Toys
Jimin – Marking
Taehyung – Pumpkin Carving?
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376 notes • Posted 2021-10-01 18:19:23 GMT
#1
Somnophilia
BTS scenario/reaction - Sex/Sexual acts while one is asleep
Warning: blowjobs, sex with the unconscious, consensual sex, female oral, fingering.
Smut under the cut
Namjoon
It was clear you had tried to wait for him but they'd been delayed
You'd fallen asleep in sexy lingerie
A book by your side and reading glasses askew on your face
Mouth ajar with a little drool
You still looked undeniably sexy all dressed up or rather down for him
He placed your book to the side careful to keep your page
He slipped the glasses away desperate not to wake you before having a little fun
You had had an agreement for a long time that he could touch you however and whenever he liked provided there was no safe word used.
He turned you gently onto your back and spread your legs wide enough for him to lie in between
He slides your panties out of the way and flattens his tongue against your folds
You start to stir as he sucks on your clit and pumps one finger into you
“Hi Jagi, sorry I'm late.”
You don't get a chance to respond before he is diving back in to make you moan for him
Seokjin
The clingiest man when he comes back from tour
Wants to do everything with you and for you
Cockwarming was something you did a lot during this time
An extra layer of intimacy you could share
Working from home, watching TV, playing video games
However this is the first time you've tried whilst asleep
Cuddly sleepers anyway it made sense
Until you're awoken by his thrusts
Once you figured out what was actually happening you couldn't help but be turned on
Jin was still asleep
Some wet dream being lived out in real time
See the full post
464 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 13:28:12 GMT
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Senku x fem named!reader
Rating: this chapter is A for Adults ONLY
Warnings: this fic has elements of smut and a mention of eating disorders THIS CHAPTER DOES CONTAIN SOME CONTENT WITH THESE WARNINGS - check tags - TW: mention of eating disorder.
Summary: Imogen has been awakened from petrification but she suffers from amnesia upon waking up. Senku and Taiju - her lover and childhood friend (respectively) before the petrification - must do their best to help her recall her past life.
Smut summary: soft sex, first time, no warnings but very NSFW.
Authors Note: If you choose to not read this chapter, please see the tags for a summary of missed relevant topics.
Chapter Six
Morning streamed in through the window. I rolled over to see Senku was gone. I half expected it considering he probably didn’t like to waste daylight. A note, however, was on his pillow. I picked it up.
“Breakfast will be soon. Wake up and get dressed, come to the village square. Take the road this time.”
-Senku
I got up and tossed on one of Senku’s tunics. My previous dress was all ripped up after the tussle with the bear. I never even remembered once we got back to the village to ask for a new dress. Senku was taller than me though, and it was summer so I felt I could get away with just his tunic coming down past my butt. I grabbed one of his rope belts and tied it around my waist. My feet were still bandaged up and they hurt a bit this morning. I told myself I would ask Senku to look at the cuts after breakfast. I climbed down the stairs and walked the road to the village. People were bustling about and the smell of fresh cooked eggs was wafting through the houses in the breeze. Chatter and laughter soon reached my ears as I approached the square. It was interesting to see a whole village eat breakfast together. People were sitting on blankets on the ground, at the tables and benches from last night, the steps up to the house at the top of the hill. Taiju called out my name and waved me over. I hurried over and sat down next to him. “Here,” he said, handing me a plate of food. Eggs, ham and potatoes filled the plate. “These look grilled.” I mused. “They are. Senku helped make a grill last week.” Taiju grinned. “Dig in.” “Thank you.” I picked up my fork and chowed down on the food. “Where’s Senku at?” I asked after a bit. “Oh he’s over there at the grill having fun. Everyone is almost fed, he’ll be over in a minute.” “He cooks for everyone?” “Just today.” Taiju said. “Why today?” “Oh! I’m sorry, I forget you don’t know the traditions. Today is July 4th. In America, they celebrate their independence on this day. Senku honors the countries who are still stuck in petrification by celebrating their unique holidays. On these occasions he cooks for the whole village.” “That’s very thoughtful of him.” I smiled. “Do you have any plans today?” Taiju asked after a while. “My only plan is to hang out with you. I have a lot of questions.” “Good! I know just the spot we can go to get away from the bustle of the village. But only after you finish your whole plate.” He said in a brotherly tone. I laughed. “Oh you bet I will.” Senku came over with a full plate of his own and sat down at the table next to me. “Morning.” He said. “Good morning.” I smiled. I finished off my plate. “Damn, done already?” He chuckled. “I’ll have to scarf this down to catch up.” He then leaned over and whispered into my ear. “My shirt looks damn hot on you.” I tried to hide my blush but failed. “Oh shut up.” I said with a giggle. He winked and took a bite of his food. “I’m gonna hang out with Taiju after breakfast. Get some questions answered.” “Mm, of course. Take all the time you need. I need to get some work done so I won’t be very enteraining today.” Senku said in an apologetic tone. Then he looked over at Taiju next me. “I trust you’ll take care of her today.” “Of course, Senku.” He grinned, fist in the air. “Shall we go?” He asked me. “We shall.” I leaned over and kissed Senku’s cheek real quick without even thinking. I froze afraid I must’ve done too much. He only smiled and winked at me. “Have fun. I’ll catch up with you when I’m done with my work.” I smiled and took Taiju’s hand which he had out for me. We walked out of the village and hiked up a small mountain to a look out with a small fire pit. “Here we are.” Taiju announced. He sat on the edge of the cliff and beaconed me to join. When I sat next to him and looked out I realized I could see the village from here. “Damn.” I said. He leaned back on his hands. “So, what do you remember?” He asked. “Last night I got two memories. The first one when you introduced Senku and I. The second was at the fight. When I tried the beer. It was when we all three got together that last summer. We were at the pool and I tried a beer for the first time.” He chuckled. “That was a good day.” “Will you tell me about us? Senku says I didn’t have a family...that I grew up with you.” His expression fell flat a bit. “You had a family. But they made some pretty bad choices and went to jail. Next to Senku, you were my best friend. So I begged my dad to adopt you and I didn’t stop until he agreed.” “How old was I?” “You were 5 when your parents went to jail and 7 when the papers finally went through.” “Really? How come Senku and I never met until high school?” “That would be dad's fault...he really wanted you to...be a girl. As he put it. He thought that if you hung out with Senku you’d end up like him and he didn’t think science was a good career for a girl.” “But...Senku said I was studying computer science.” “You did. So, the way it went down was like this. From 8-11 dad enrolled you in every type of after school activity until you found something you liked that he approved of. You guys settled on dance and put you in ballet. You hated every single minute of it.” We both laughed. “I can imagine I did. Dancing doesn’t even interest me now.” “Yeah dad wasn’t too happy about that. You came to me one day and told me that whole you had been looking up computer science. You said you did this often when you should’ve been sleeping. Then you asked me what kind of science Senku did. To be honest, you really looked up to him. The boy you could never meet.” “Why could it never happen?” “Dad went to extreme lengths to make sure you never hung out with Senku. You couldn’t stop talking about computers and science and he knew if you hung out with Senku it would only get worse—in his eyes.” I frowned. “Now please, don’t hate him. Even back then you never hated dad for putting you through all that. You desperately wanted to make him proud and you bent over backwards for years to do that. But from 11-15 you really started to decline. Ballet forced you to eat less, and you never had any energy. You started to get sick. I had an argument with dad because he was completely blind to it. Still he didn’t take you out because he was convinced that you liked it. That’s when I talked with you and told you that you needed to tell dad that you hated it.” He paused and sighed. “Things didn’t go extremely well. You and dad argued and then you dropped out of ballet on your own by faking dad’s signature. When you came home from school that day you said that high school was just around the corner and there was a computer science course you wanted to take at the high school me and Senku were enrolling in. You and dad came to an agreement that if you got straight A’s your first year, he would consider allowing you to do it. And you surpassed that. You got straight A’s, you made top of your class, and you won the science fair.” “Against Senku?” “No. Unfortunately not. Senku didn’t join the science fair the first year.” “Aw...damn.” I chuckled. “So what happened at the end of the year?” “Dad said that if you could keep that up for one more year, he’d let you graduate and pay your tuition for any college you wanted. But...that’s when things went wrong.” “How so?” “You were still struggling with eating. And on top of that you were working overtime to prove this to dad. You ended up in the hospital after Christmas.” “What for...” I was scared of the answer. “Anorexia. You were barely 100 pounds. I was so scared for you.” He sat up and crossed his legs under him. “I remember I sat down with you and had a heart to heart. You told me that the girls at ballet bullied you from eating and the pressure to look a certain way remained even after you left. You started to get depressed because you immediately assumed that dad wouldn’t let you finish because you were in the hospital. So I helped you.” “Oh? How?” “I brought in your homework every night and I text Senku for any help. I helped you make your projects and I even stood in for you at the second science fair. To which of course, Senku won.” He laughed. “But my only condition for you was gain weight and eat your food. By March you gained 50 pounds and was no longer considered underweight. Dad let you finish out the school at home under a watchful eye when you ate and when your report came back as straight A’s, dad made good on his promise.” “And that’s when I got to meet Senku?” “Mhmm. Things were looking up for you and I know you never forgot about him. I never expected things to turn out the way it did for you two but I’m happy it did.” Said, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Senku is an amazing man. You guys were meant for each other. My only regret is not introducing you sooner to be honest.” I smiled. “Thank you, Taiju. You were there for me during some pretty dark times and if I never got a chance to say it back then; thank you. I hope I can remember the bond we shared and I hope we can continue to be close.” He pulled me into his side, enveloping me with his arms. “If there’s anything you need, please keep coming to your big brother for help.” “I will.” I said, hugging him back. “Can you tell me more? What did you and I do for fun?” He chuckled and laid down on the cool rock, taking me down with him. I rested my head on his chest. “Man you were wild for a while. Despite working so hard in school you occasionally woke me up to sneak out of the house and go to a party or a club.” “Did I really??” “Ohhh yeah,” he laughed. “That memory you said you got, at pool with me and Senku? Yeah that wasn’t your first time trying beer.” “What? It wasn’t?” “Nope. That was your first time trying a beer and rum combo. You weren’t an alcoholic but you enjoyed a drink occasionally - you were just very adventurous with it.” I smiled. “Did Senku ever talk to you about me?” “Oh all the time.” Taiju said. “What would he say?” “I remember his top comment about you was, ‘she’s amazing and smart and I never thought I’d be this lucky.’” “Pfffft you’re lying. That doesn’t sound like Senku.” He laughed. “Damn it, you caught me.” “Hey!” I Smacked his chest. “You cheek!” He belly laughed. “I’m sorry, I had to at least see if you’d believe it. But for real, Senku couldn’t shut up about you. He honestly was amazed with your smarts. He was impressed by all your accomplishments. He tried to keep with you, you know.” “How so?” “When we were young. He saw you always watching or asking to hang out. And then whenever you had a question or a theory I’d remember it and ask him and he’d give me the best advice to give you so you could work it out on your own. Often he would text me late at night to ask if you had figured it out.” “Really?” He shook his head. “Really. You may have looked up to him a lot, but he also was very keen on watching you grow.” “I wish I could remember how it felt...” I mumbled. “How what felt?” “Falling in love for the first time.” He squeezed my shoulder and kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help.” “Tell me more. Anything that comes to your mind.” “Hmm...I think my favorite thing we did when we were younger was you would sneak into my room and we made a fort and played pretend in space. You pretended to be a valiant hero and I was an alien.” He chuckled. “That’s a fun memory.” I closed my eyes and listened to him talk. “I do have to confess, I may have read your journal after you enrolled in high school. I wanted to know if you wrote anything about Senku so I could have a better idea.” “Did I?” “One entry. It was the newest one.” “What did it say?” “I honestly can’t remember fully. I remember the sentence, ‘Senku will be there, I can’t wait to see him. I wonder if he’ll think I’m weird.’ I went to school for the next week and did nothing but pick his brain about his thoughts for you.” “He probably caught on quick.” “Nah, Senku’s an idiot with things like that. He didn’t catch on in the slightest.” I laughed. “Thank you for telling me all this. I hope I get these memories back soon.”
“Me too.” He smiled.
********
Tag list: @viskafrer @bee-cakes @potatochic2003 @gxldenhunny @cheesey-fox @guijh103 Please DM me if you would like to be added to the tag list!
#tw: anorexia#senku x reader#senku x fem#ishigami senku#taiju oki#dr stone#fanfic#dr stone fanfic#MRT: Imogen was adopted by Taiju's fam#MRT: Taiju tells Imogen she had anorexia because of taking ballet#MRT: Taiju is an awesome adopted brother and sets Imogen up with Senku#one shots
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29 Things I Love About Dan
1. That he came out to his family via email. Aspirational.
2. Dude really, really loves his grandma.
3. That one time at a book signing when the bookstore overpromised tickets and there was a dad that was really upset because his daughter had been waiting in line so long and didn't get to meet them. The dad was just shouting at Dan and Phil and everyone else was trying to just quickly walk on but Dan stopped, turned around, and talked to the dad.
4. That he's the first person to defend someone he loves in any situation where he even perceives they're being shit upon, but in the same breath will make fun of them himself. He's the epitome of older brother attitude.
5. He spends a lot of money on clothes but then he wears what he buys every single day for a span of at least a year so he does at least get his money's worth.
6. That time on vyou when someone asked him what he looks for in a girl and his answer was the ring that fell off his hand last time that he really wants back.
7. His reaction to the Phil's wife story. I still laugh thinking about Sabrina and Lola. In the process of answering that he made a remark about how Phil leaves to go with his 'real' family and sometimes that just latches itself onto my brain. There was a similar comment during the blue/gold dress debate where Phil referenced Dan in with family and it's just... like, yeah, they're in love, they're in a relationship. But they're not just partners, they are full on out and out family to each other and that Dan found that at a time when he was so scared and felt so isolated with his own family is worth everything.
8. The depth of feeling in his voice during that one "Katie, Katie, Katie... Katie, Katie, Katie. No." liveshow answer. You know the one. He was having none of that and if Katie got verbally incinerated in the process of his answering, so be it.
9. When he'd be doing a liveshow and get on a tangent and end up talking about condiments or dips for like four minutes straight.
10. The way he never minded putting someone on blast that pissed him off but knew that it bothered Phil so he would consult with Phil first sometimes but then if the situation actually involved Phil being hurt in some way all bets were off he Was naming that trainer that made Phil puke he did not Care if Phil gave him an alias for the video Kai deserved what he got for pushing Phil too far.
11. That after a decade he still wants to impress Phil's family by doing things like cleaning before they come and making them all coffee.
12. And yet still made a cake to give to Phil in front of them that talked about wanting to see Phil's ass. The duality of man is real, indeed.
13. Nicer Internet. Young Minds. Make-a-Wish. Mermaids. He only just came into his own with being charity-minded in the last few years and I don't for a second doubt he does more privately than publicly and probably has some mental spirals about using his platform vs being accused of virtue signaling. But this is just one way I love watching him find his footing in the world as an adult with privilege.
14. He introduced an important word to my personal lexicon with Haru and I'd like the rest of the world to catch on because it's just a very specific action of lying while obviously lying and pretending you aren't lying and I love it.
15. When he was fifteen he was so in his emo kid feelings that he wanted black angel wings tattooed on his back.
16. That little tune he'd hum when he was trying to space out thoughts during liveshows.
17. That somehow he beat all the odds and is best friends with the first person he subscribed to (Bryony) and in a relationship with his teenage self's favorite youtuber (Phil, obviously). Teenage Dan had a really shit time of almost everything but in that one specific 'meet your idols' area he was truly blessed with all of the luck.
18. "All I can taste is cherry, all I can smell is cherry, all I can hear is cherry and all I can feel is cherry. Can't really see much though."
19. The fact that he owned up to previous bad takes and opinions and deleted old videos and tweets.
20. Litralee.
21. They originally wanted Phil to run the board at the radio show but he did such a bad job of it after the first episode that they gave it to Dan instead, and I think for someone with zero radio work experience or training Dan did an amazing job. He may spend a lot of time doubting himself but when a spotlight is on him he's clever and confident and adapts quickly.
22. The way when he says 'at all' he still sounds like his five year old self.
23. That he tried to run the marathon last year, and didn't, and tried again this year. When you're someone that fears judgement for your failures and knows everything you do is scrutinized by a very large audience - not just fans but people waiting for you to fail so they can report on that, too - sharing in that way seems like it would be really hard. It was shit luck that he couldn't run it this year either but I have faith he's gonna cross that finish line because the man Dan Howell has turned into goes after what he wants and fuck what anyone else thinks or expects of him.
24. That one liveshow they did without pants. You know that was Dan's idea. Phil is a respectable young man who does not go live on the internet to thousands of people in just his underwear. But Dan? Dan would. Dan does. And Dan is a terrible blerson.
25. That in a video to ten million people he said with his whole chest that his relationship with Phil made him feel safe for the first time since he was a small child. And like, yeah, sure, I'm infatuated with their relationship so it made me happy on a personal level. But beyond that; putting words to things is clearly not easy for Dan. It took him decades to acknowledge he was gay to himself. It took decades plus a little to tell his family. Sometimes it doesn't matter how much people know things, giving it a label is fucking scary and I think his fear of labeling his relationship with Phil (to the public) felt like a different kind of exposure than just his sexuality and he still faced them both.
26. He clearly has a very complicated relationship with his parents and family in general but that one story he told about being young and on holiday to Disneyland Paris and his mum is terrified of roller coasters but went on one with him like six times because she didn't want him to be alone. I'm glad through all the badness and doubt and fear he's had at how conditional his parents' love might be, that he had those good memories as well.
27. It was Dan that coined the phrase 'post-baking universe.' He's very aware of the stages of their life and his growth and he shares that self-awareness with the viewers even if he doesn't share all the depth of reasoning behind them. (He also coined the term 'phan' but in that instance I think uhh he didn't know what he was doing so.)
28. That he's learned better coping mechanisms than lashing out online. That he's got therapy now and the option for medication when he needs it. That depression doesn't go away but he knows he has options and support now.
29. He's given us almost a decade of content to watch and rewatch and enjoy and view through the different lights of his growth and our own growth, and who knows what the future will hold.
Okay, last minute addition - we'll call it one to grow on:
30. That Starcourt selfie.
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Chapter 11
Changes
Chapter 10
Sunday mornings were something you were accustomed to spending alone for many years. But now Harry lay next to you and it was the best feeling in the world.
The sun streamed through the shutters and dusted over his face. The early morning rays highlighting those sharp cheekbones people obsessed over. You noticed how his jawline slightly bulged as he clenched his teeth in his sleep. The warmth of the house left him in only boxers, showing off his tan, toned, inked chest which had stayed so similar all this time.
His skin looked flawless and you mindlessly found yourself tracing the inked shapes while he was asleep. His long, black eyelashes rested heavily under his eyes while his perfect curls sat on his forehead, looking blonder in the morning light.
As you continued to admire Harry he stirred and wriggled around so you ducked your head so he wouldn't wake up to your eyes staring at him.
"Knew you were looking at me, ya know?" His rough morning voice came from next to you and made you blush. Even through closed eyes, you could see the smirk on his perfectly pink lips. It was something he did whether you were nervous or embarrassed.
"Was not." You mumbled, voice also rough from the hours you hadn't talked for.
"You were totally checking me out." Harry teased in a sing-song tone, making your cheeks redder.
To cover yourself from the embarrassment you put your hands over your cheeks and eyes.
"S'not my fault you look so gorgeous in the morning sun." You mumbled. knowing if you said it louder his ego would inflate bigger than you were willing to let it be.
Harry placed his hand to your hands and peeled them away from your eyes. "You're not allowed to compliment me until I tell you how beautiful you look." He told you as he held your face.
His face was so close that you were sure if he had a single flaw you'd be able to see it. Still, there was no evidence of that.
"You're still beautiful." You replied before painfully slowly closing the gap and letting your lips fall onto his, slowly.
"Can we have a serious talk about something?" Harry asked after you had spent a few minutes kissing and cuddling.
Your initial reaction was to gulp and pray that he wouldn't be giving you bad news. As you nodded you felt your heart speed up and your breathing fall out of sync. There were a few silent breaths taken to calm yourself down before Harry started talking.
"I know we haven't already gone the right way but I really like where we are now and I just want to be a part of your and Lily's lives every day. You just both mean so much to me. So there are two things I want to say." You felt your nerves rising once he said that. "I don't even know what order to do this in or how to say this." He sighed and you giggled at his adorable nature. He raised a finger to his lips to think. It was honestly so cute when he did that.
"Say it, Haz, it's just me." You weren't sure how much more you could take.
"Iloveyouandwillyoumoveinwithme." He blurted out and your eyes widened but you can feel your lips pulling up into a smile.
"Harry." You say as you place your hands on his cheeks. "I love you so so much and I would love to move in with you." He just smashed his lips onto yours and pulled away while you're both in a grin.
"I'm not sure where we'll move, I only have a bachelor pad but I'll find us the best home money can buy." He promised.
One of his words stopped you. "Hey, you're not a bachelor!" You squealed and rolled his eyes, still grinning. "But I don't need to have the most expensive house, I just want somewhere we can wake up in the morning and cook chocolate chip pancakes together. Somewhere I can get annoyed at you for taking too long in the bathroom and somewhere I'm excited to come home to." You gushed, excited by how exciting the idea of moving in with Harry was.
He just laughed before his jaw dropped. "Wait, we can't move in together. I haven't even met your parents." Harry suddenly said and you had to stifle a giggle.
"Do you have amnesia? Because you have met them before." You joked remembering when you had this conversation with Harry before Lily met his parents. Once again, Harry rolled his eyes.
"Haha, you'd be very sad if I actually had amnesia." He sarcastically laughed and you nodded, in agreement. "What I meant was I haven't seen them in so long and when we saw your mum last she was asking if we'd come to visit them."
You nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure Lily would love to see them again." The last time she had seen them was a while ago. Although your mum said you should all catch up but Harry wasn't there. "Oh, I'll text her." You told Harry and reached for your phone before pulling up your mum's contact number and typing a quick message.
"Let's look for houses!" Harry yelled excitedly before quickly getting out of bed, putting on a pair of pants and going to get his charging laptop downstairs.
Now that your personal heater was gone, you got up and pulled a hoodie over your frame before you followed Harry downstairs.
He had apparently already found a perfect house. "Look at this one!" He said as he pulled up a picture of a massive white house with 9 bedrooms and 14 bathrooms.
It was insanely big and definitely a bit over the top. "Harry, that house is worth 28 million dollars." You said wearily.
"So? I want a nice house and I've got enough money. I just want where we live to be nice." He told you, sincerely and you nodded.
"Alright, but seriously price limit of 15 million." You told him and he nodded slowly, although you were pretty sure he wasn't agreeing. His efforts to find the best house were appreciated but it didn't matter. Any house you got to live in together would be perfect.
Harry continued his search while you sat beside him and checked your emails. Ding. Your text message notification sounded and Harry glanced over at you, unsure of who you could be texting at 8 in the morning.
"It's my mum." You told him and he nodded, swivelling on the kitchen island stool to face you. You briefly read the message before relaying it to Harry. "They're in Hawaii until next weekend." You sighed.
Harry looked a little defeated until his head perked up. "Best idea ever!" He announced, it made you giggle. "We could decide on a house, take a private jet to Hawaii and see them then come back and by the time we're back here they can have everything moved from here to our new house." His suggestion made you laugh. "I'm serious." Your heart dropped at how rushed out it sounded. Clearly, he wasn't used to the lifestyle you were.
Of course, you wanted to move in with Harry but it would be much more convenient if it didn't happen until Lily was on summer break.
"Harry..." How would you phrase this? "If it were just us then I would jump at the idea but we've got Lily and I can't rip her away from school and her life here." You tried to explain. Lily hadn't even been told of this yet.
"I'll drive her over to pre-K every morning." He promised. "And any time she wants to have play dates, I'll bring her." Another promise.
"That's sweet of you, H. But it's so rushed finding a house and getting moved so quickly. Can't we wait until the holidays?" You stuck to your point, maybe because you were stubborn but maybe because you thought it was stronger.
"The holidays are in 4 weeks, that's a whole month. I can have us a house by tomorrow so why wait?" He whined. "What if Lily takes the remaining 4 weeks off pre-K and then we spend some time in Hawaii, or anywhere you like." He bargained.
"I don't know, Haz." You honestly told him. "What about we look for a house and try to get moved in as soon as possible. We'll wait till my parents go home through LA and they can stay in the new place and have dinner." You told him in a tone that he knew meant it was the final plan.
It caused him to pout. "But, baby, I wanted to go on a family holiday." He continued to whine.
"Okay, let's go to Europe in the break then." You suggested and a grin quickly appeared on his face.
"Can I show Lily my hometown?" He cheered and you nodded. "I can't wait to show her where I used to live, the school I used to go to, the park that I used to play in and that one tree I used to snog all the girls under." He said as if it was his glory days.
You scrunched your nose at him. "Maybe skip the tree bit." You suggested and he nodded. "Plus, I don't want to think about you kissing other girls." You knew he had, obviously, you just didn't want to think about it.
"There was really only one girl." His smile widened and you felt bitter jealousy fill you from head to toe.
"Yuck." You rolled your eyes and you knew he could tell it was getting under your skin. "I bet she was like 20 years older than you with kids." You made your own snide comment at him, knowing his type.
"She does have a kid but I'm a little older than her." You felt sick as you talked about it but Harry looked like he was having a lot of fun.
"You kissed someone with a kid?" You asked, you wanted to guess who it was and considering you knew a lot of Harry's friends you thought you had a good chance.
"Well she didn't have one back then, she does now though." He explained and you nodded, your mind still racing as to who it could be.
"Was she with the father when you kissed her?" You asked, this had almost turned into an interrogation.
All he did was grin and the air in the room changed. "Yes."
"So she was cheating on him?"
"Nope."
A bad feeling set into your stomach, twisting it uncomfortably. "So you fathered a child?" All you could feel was shock and you couldn't even breathe.
"Do you have amnesia? Because we have a kid." He started laughing once he could see your panic and mimicked your words from earlier that morning.
Finally, you were able to get a breath back in. "Fuck, Harry. Don't freak me out like that." You managed to get out in between the breaths as it all clicked together. Harry was still cracking himself up and there was no way you could be mad at him after hearing that sound.
"You're too easy to freak out, baby." He told you before going back to his house search.
Harry didn't do anything lightly, by the time Lily was downstairs he had already been on the phone with his real estate agent and had booked some houses to see today while you made breakfast for everyone.
"Morning, Lils." You smiled as you picked her up and hugged her. Once you put her back down she went over to her breakfast stool, next to Harry.
"Hey, where's my hug?" He whined as she smiled at him before sleepily falling back into his arms.
"There." She told him once she sat up again, ready to eat.
"Lily, we have something we wanted to talk to you about." You told her and she nodded, still eating. Harry was paying more attention to her now, desperate for her reaction. "How would you feel about moving into a different house with Harry?"
Her face turned sour and she glared up at you. "No, no, no! I want to live here!" She screamed at you which confused you.
"Lily, don't yell." You warned but she was far past caring about the rules.
"I am not moving house! I like this house and I want to live here forever!" She yelled, loudly as she got out of her chair. "I do not want to move!" That was the last thing she yelled before she got off the stool and stomped away,
Only a minute later you heard a loud door slam. Wow, her teenage years were going to be fun if this is what she was like at 5
"She got your drama queen temper." You joked to Harry, but he was wearing a serious face.
"Y/n, she doesn't want to move. What are we going to do? You can't move her if she doesn't want to." He told you and you shrugged.
"She'll be fine. She's just adjusting, it happened when I asked if she wanted a big girl bed. She had a big tantrum and then begged me to get her one the next hour." You explained and he nodded but still looked concerned.
It had been a good 20 minutes of the two of you eating breakfast and looking at houses until Harry asked about Lily. "Can I go talk to her? And you come?" He asked one question quickly followed by the next. It was cute he wanted you to be there.
"If you want." You shrugged as you got up to go up the stairs. Harry followed but overtook you to get to Lily's room first.
Knock, knock. He gently tapped on the door. "Lily, can we have an adult talk?" He asked. You could tell he was anxious by his clammy hands that were shaking.
"Yes." She sighed and he breathed out before he opened the door.
Once you walked into her room she sat there, on the bed with her arms crossed. Harry sat down at the end of her bed while you hovered in the doorframe.
Harry stalled as he tried to start the conversation, twisting the rings on his fingers. "What's wrong with moving?" He asked her.
"I like this house and I liked my room and I like my school and I like my friends and I like the beach." She listed, briefly looking up at him.
"Okay, what do you like about this house?" He asked and she took a little longer to think of an answer.
She was kicking her legs back and forward. "It's got a pool, a tv, my room and it's where I have always lived." You did understand that it was hard to ask her to move from the only house she knew.
"What if I promised you a pool, tv and new bedroom in a new house?" He asked and she waited while she thought about it. "I know that you only remember this house but I really want us to all live together in a nice, big house. I promise we can make lots of new memories." He promised again but Lily still hadn't answered. "I'll even invite your grandma around." He told her and she immediately looked up.
"And grandpa?" Lily asked hopefully.
"And grandpa." He confirmed. "Maybe we can see some of these houses and then if you hate them so much that you never want to live in them, I'll find a better house for us."
"Yes, please, I want to see them." She agreed and you could feel Harry's smile radiating around the room.
"Thank you." He pulled her in for a hug and you walked over to join them.
"Wanna hear something else cool, Lils?" You asked and she nodded, looking up to break the hug. "We're going to visit your Nana and Pop in the place Harry grew up." You told her and she started grinning widely.
"Oh my gosh! Can I see Auntie Gemma!? Will we go on a plane!?" Her questions came at a million miles an hour as she jumped around on her bed. "Wait." She stopped and sat down. "Where did you grow up?" She asked him.
He stood and walked over to the world map on her wall. "This place right here called Holmes Chapel in England." He told her as he looked at the map and her face turned into a frown as she got up to see the map herself.
"Is England is this one?" She asked as she pointed to Russia.
"Look to your left and it's the islands in the sea." You told her and she ran her finger along until she ended up at England.
Lily looked very curious. "It's tiny. How will we get there?" She was very concerned.
"By plane." You told her before Harry jumped in.
"Private plane."
"We didn't discuss that." You warned but he just shrugged and you glared at him.
"What's a private plane?" She asked and you snapped out of your glaring.
"It's when it's only you and the drivers and the seats are massive and you can play around as much as you want," Harry told her and she grinned. She'd only been on a few planes and it was never in first class.
"Yes, please, can we do that, Mumma?" She asked eagerly. She started to give you the puppy eyes as Harry caught on and copied her actions.
It freaked you out how alike they looked. "Fine." It was all they needed to confirm their victory and hi-five.
The houses you were going to see that afternoon with Harry were more than beautiful. They reminded you of the types of house you and Harry used to party at together all those years ago.
"Lil, we're here." You said as you leant into the back seat to unclip her sear belt so she could get out.
Harry had already raced around to open your door, in his usual gentleman fashion. Every time you looked at him it was like you felt love bursting out of you. His basketball shorts and tank top looked anything but basic on him.
After you got out of the car he opened Lily's door for her and she hopped out, quickly gawking at the massive house in front of her.
"You like it?" Harry asked her.
Her face was quick to change from shock to absolute euphoria. "Is this the house we're moving to?!" She squealed as she ran in circles around his legs. It made both of your giggle and Harry reached his hand out to give you a hi-five.
"Maybe, depends it's right." You told her and she nodded before leading the way inside. You followed with Harry a step ahead, going to the real estate agent to shake hands.
They talked about the houses advanced features while you took Lily to look at the front garden. The real estate agent took a phone call, leaving you three to go explore the house.
Harry led you upstairs to look at the bedroom. "Lily, this could be yours." He said as he opened the door to a massive room that she would struggle to fill if you brought her everything she'd ever wanted.
"Wow!" She cheers as she walked over to the window and looked at the LA skyline. It was a nice view but you knew the master bedroom would have an even nicer one.
"I can see that pretty brain working overtime, what are you thinking?" Harry said into your ear as he snaked his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. The two of you stood there, by the doorframe, watching your daughter.
You twisted your head so you could smile up at him. "It's really nice." There was a slight pause. "Lily loves it but I think she's going to love any house so that's not really a concern. I'm excited to see what other houses we're going to see. What about you?" You told him honestly.
"I love the kitchen and lounge but I think we need more bedrooms. And the pool isn't that big." He remarked and you looked at him with raise eyebrows.
"6 bedrooms isn't enough?" You questioned and he shook his head. "Lily, you and I only need 2, plus one for visitors. So that's 3, maybe 4." You explained.
He shook his head again. "What about when we have more kids?" He asked and your mouth fell open.
The two of you had never spoken about this before, but you hadn't even spoken about having Lily. At least 5 years ago he had said he wanted a few. As soon as Harry realised what he said he shut his mouth and you could see him thinking about what to say next.
To make it better or to take it away.
Finally, you had to pluck up the courage. "You want more?" Harry was now blushing furiously as he tried to think of something to say.
"Honestly, yes. I want to be there to raise them with you." He admitted. He had spun you around now so he could look into your eyes and have an honest conversation. "But it's not a deal-breaker." He quickly clarified.
It was the best answer you could have heard. "Harry, that's exactly what I want." You watched the huge smile appear on his face and he struggled to not wrap you in his arms.
"So, what are your thoughts?" The real estate agent asked as he walked up the stairs. Lily rushed out of the hidden room she had found with a huge smile on her face.
"I love it." She told him, which made him chuckle.
"It's nice, can we give you a call later once we've seen some others and decided?" Harry asked and the real estate agent nodded before you all left the house.
The rest of the day consisted of looking at 4 other, just as grand, homes, getting lunch and Harry subtly driving past one of the top private schools in the whole country in an attempt to get Lily to see it. Luckily for you she didn't, only because there had been no prior discussion between you and Harry about where she would go.
"So, team. what house do we think?" Harry asked around the dinner table later in the evening, ready for an inaugural family meeting.
"Second one!" Lily quickly yelled. The second house was built with two wings of bedrooms and a kitchen/lounge area in the middle. It was Lily's favourite because in the kid's wing there was a massive rock climbing wall.
"But would you like to be that far away from us every night?" You asked, knowing what problem was going to occur later.
She shook her head reluctantly. "No." She confirmed and Harry crossed that one off his list.
One down, four to go.
"So that means no to the 4th one."
Two down, three to do.
"Okay, now we're going to decide what is most important for us." You said, taking charge and reading over the features of the remaining 3 houses. "Do we want a spa?" You asked and Harry nodded quickly. A bit too quickly. "Not going to ask why." You said as you sent Harry a wink.
That decision crossed another house off. Three down, two to go.
"Okay, so 8 bedrooms and 3 lounges or 7 bedrooms and 4 lounges?" You asked Harry and Lily who looked at you like they were watching an intense sports match.
"7 and 4." They both said at the same time. Four down, one winner.
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