#if there's something wrong with the grammars and spellings

[stylesonfilms]

ink & innocence - 17

word count: 9.2k

enjoy! a bit of a long one! i did noooot spell, grammar, or plot consistency check, i wrote the ending half asleep but i wanted to post for you guys haha! whats everyones favorite chapter so far??

Aspen set the thick packet down in front of her professor with shaky hands, forcing a tight smile that she hoped masked her inner turmoil. The weight of the exam lingered heavily on her shoulders, and her stomach churned with anxiety. This was her last midterm before finals, the final hurdle before a week-long break that she desperately needed. Yet, the moment she exited the classroom, the reality of her performance crashed over her like a wave.

Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes as her feet carried her hurriedly down the hallway. She sniffled quietly, swiping at the tip of her nose with her sleeve, trying to keep herself composed until she reached the sanctuary of the single bathrooms in the academic building. The door clicked shut behind her, and she quickly turned the lock.

The tears came fast and hard, pouring down her cheeks as her back pressed against the cool tiled wall. Her breaths were shallow and uneven, punctuated by small hiccups as she let herself unravel in private. Aspen slid her tote bag off her shoulder and onto the counter, gripping the edge tightly as she tried to ground herself.

She absolutely flunked that exam. She was sure of it. The professor had granted two hours to complete it, and even with every precious second of that time, she felt unprepared and overwhelmed. Her confidence wavered as she remembered how she stared blankly at questions that felt like a foreign language. She could still see the empty spaces on the answer sheet and the scribbled guesses she made out of sheer desperation. Aspen hated guessing—it wasn't like her. She thrived on preparation, on being in control. To leave the exam room knowing she hadn't done her best shattered her.

Her hands trembled as she reached into her tote bag, rummaging until she found her phone. She fumbled to unlock it, tears blurring her vision as she scrolled through her contacts. Harry's name stood out to her, and she hesitated for only a moment before pressing the call button.

He was at work, she knew that. He was likely busy with clients or sketches, but Aspen didn't care. She didn't need advice or solutions right now—she just needed to hear his voice, to feel tethered to something solid when she felt like she was free-falling.

"Come on," she whispered shakily, her thumb anxiously tapping against the edge of her phone. "Pick up, pick up..."

The taunting rings seemed to stretch on forever, each one amplifying her desperation, until finally, the line clicked.

"Hi, baby. What's up?"

Harry's voice was a soothing balm, warm and inviting, tinged with the faintest edge of curiosity. Aspen's lips parted as a breath of relief escaped her, but the sound wavered into a broken sob as her emotions surged forward uncontrollably.

"H-Harry," she managed to choke out, his name coming out as a quiet plea.

Aspen pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead, screwing her eyes shut as more tears spilled over. Her free hand clutched at the hem of her hoodie, twisting it nervously. She felt small and overwhelmed, embarrassed that she was falling apart over a test but unable to stop herself.

The concern in Harry's voice was immediate and palpable, even through the phone. The sound of the rolling wheels on his chair could be heard. "Asp? What's wrong, love? Are you okay?"

His tone softened further, wrapping her like a comforting embrace, and Aspen felt her knees weaken at how easily he could soothe her even without being there.

"I—I messed up," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I messed up so bad, Harry. I couldn't—I didn't know the answers, and I couldn't finish in time..."

Harry's brows furrowed as he listened intently, his heart aching at the sound of her distress. He could picture her so vividly, her cheeks streaked with tears, her doe eyes wide with worry, and her lip trembling in that way that always made him want to scoop her up and shield her from the world.

"Hey, hey," he murmured, his voice low and gentle, "slow down, baby. It's okay. Deep breath f'me, yeah? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Jus' like that."

Aspen tried to follow his instructions, her breath hitching but eventually evening out under his guidance. Harry waited patiently, letting her take her time before speaking again.

"Now, tell me what happened," he coaxed, his voice still soft but laced with a quiet determination to make her feel better.

Aspen bit her bottom lip, the familiar comfort of his voice easing some of the weight off her chest. "I... I just feel so stupid," she admitted in a small voice. "I studied so much, but when I sat down, it all just... disappeared. I'm pretty sure I failed, Harry."

"You're not stupid," Harry said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You're the furthest thing from stupid, Asp. You're brilliant, and hardworking, and the fact that y'even care this much says everything about the kind of person you are."

Aspen's chest tightened at his words, the lump in her throat growing larger. She sank onto the counter, her legs dangling as she held the phone close to her ear. "But what if I ruined everything? What if I can't—"

Harry interrupted her gently. "You didn't ruin anything, angel. One exam isn't going to define you, alright? And even if y'didn't do as well as you hoped, it's not the end of the world. You're allowed t'have bad days. You're allowed t'be human."

His words settled over her like a warm blanket, and Aspen sniffled again, this time out of gratitude rather than despair. Harry always knew what to say to make her feel better, to make her believe in herself even when she doubted everything.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice still shaky but steadier than before.

"Always, baby," Harry replied softly. "D'you want me to come pick you up? Take you out f'something sweet? I've got a break coming up, and I'll ditch these idiots for you in a heartbeat."

Aspen laughed lightly through her tears, the sound fragile but genuine. "No, I'm okay. I just... needed to hear your voice."

Harry smiled to himself, his chest warming at her honesty. "You can call me anytime, Asp. I mean that. I'm here, yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed, her lips curling into a small smile despite everything.

As she ended the call, Aspen felt a sense of calm wash over her. The tears still lingered, and the ache in her chest hadn't fully subsided, but Harry's words echoed in her mind, steady and reassuring. She wasn't alone in this—she had him. And somehow, that made everything feel a little more manageable.

Harry leaned back in his chair at the shop, the soft glow of the afternoon sun spilling through the windows. The phone call with Aspen lingered in his mind, her quiet sobs and trembling voice still echoing in his ears. He rubbed a hand over his face, his heart twisting at the thought of her sitting alone, overwhelmed and upset. No amount of reassurances over the phone felt like enough. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty appointment book for the rest of the day. Decision made.

"Alright, that's it for me," Harry called out to Zayn and Niall, who were lounging near the counter with snacks in hand.

Zayn arched a brow. "Shop's not even closed yet, mate. What gives?"

Harry grabbed his jacket, slipping it on as he shot them a look. "Got somewhere I need to be."

Niall smirked knowingly, crunching into a crisp. "Let me guess. Aspen?"

Harry didn't bother denying it, his lips curling into a slight grin as he pocketed his keys. "Yeah, and if either of you tries to stop me, you're cleaning the entire shop tonight."

"Not a chance," Zayn said with a laugh, tossing a bag of crisps toward Harry. "Go be Prince Charming or whatever. Tell her we said hi."

Harry waved them off with a roll of his eyes, but his chest warmed at their teasing. He locked up the shop and headed out, his boots hitting the pavement with purpose. On his way, he made a quick stop at a frozen yogurt shop he knew Aspen loved. It didn't take him long to spot the cheesecake froyo on the menu—her favorite—and he added a handful of fresh strawberries and crushed graham crackers as toppings, just the way she liked it.

Balancing the froyo carefully, he climbed back into his car and made his way to her campus. The drive wasn't long, but it gave him time to think about how much Aspen had come to mean to him. She was a mix of strength and vulnerability, so stubbornly independent but also so willing to let him in when she needed it. He couldn't help but feel protective of her, wanting to be her safe place whenever she needed one.

Aspen, sitting in the library attempting to distract herself with her laptop, stared blankly at the screen, the words blurring together. The sound of her phone buzzing pulled her from her haze, and she swiped at the notification. Seeing Harry's name accompanied by the message, "Come outside, love. Got a surprise for you," made her heart stutter. She frowned in confusion, her fingers hovering over the screen before deciding to leave her response unread. Instead, she wiped her damp cheeks with the sleeve of her oversized hoodie, quickly gathered her bag, and made her way to the exit.

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the glass doors as she stepped outside, the cool air brushing against her flushed cheeks. Her eyes scanned the parking lot, and then she spotted him.

Harry was leaned casually against the side of his car, one ankle crossed over the other, his figure relaxed but effortlessly commanding. He wore a fitted black tee that clung perfectly to his broad shoulders and skinny jeans that accentuated his long legs. A pair of aviator sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, hiding his expressive green eyes, but his smirk was unmistakable.

In his hands were two cups of frozen yogurt, the condensation from the chilled cups glistening in the sun. His tattooed arms flexed slightly as he adjusted his grip on them, his silver rings catching the light. The sharp line of his jaw and the faint scruff framing his chin added to the air of confidence he carried so naturally.

Aspen's breath hitched at the sight, her steps faltering as a fresh wave of emotion threatened to overwhelm her. He was such a stark contrast to the chaos she felt inside—calm, steady, and completely hers. Her heart squeezed painfully at the realization of how much she needed this, needed him.

Harry straightened slightly when he saw her, his lips pulling into a soft grin that reached even beneath the shades. He raised the froyo cups in a small salute. "Took you long enough, angel," he teased, his voice carrying over the lot as she made her way toward him.

Aspen swallowed the lump in her throat, forcing herself to focus on the warmth his presence brought rather than the lingering doubt and self-criticism from earlier. She stopped a few feet away, her gaze flicking from his smirk to the froyo in his hands.

"You didn't have to come all the way here," she said softly, her voice trembling slightly despite her effort to sound casual.

Harry cocked his head, lowering the sunglasses down his nose just enough for her to catch the sparkle in his green eyes. "Course I did," he said simply, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You sounded like y'needed cheering up. And who better than me to do it?"

Her lips twitched into the faintest smile, the tension in her chest loosening slightly as she stepped closer. The froyo was topped with crushed graham crackers and fresh strawberries, just the way she liked it. A tiny warmth bloomed in her chest at the thoughtful gesture, even as her fingers brushed his when she took the cup, sending a spark racing through her.

"You're ridiculous," she murmured, ducking her head to hide the grateful smile tugging at her lips.

"And yet, here you are, accepting froyo from a ridiculous man," Harry shot back, his grin widening.

For the first time all day, Aspen felt a tiny flicker of lightness creep in. It wasn't much, but with Harry, it was enough.

Harry opened the car door for her, gesturing for her to get in. "Come on. Let me kidnap you for a bit. I've got no plans 'cept making sure you're smiling by the end 'f the day."

Aspen hesitated for a moment, glancing back toward the library. But then she met Harry's gaze, warm and steady, and nodded. "Okay," she said quietly, slipping into the passenger seat.

The ride back to Harry's place was calm, filled with soft music playing in the background and the occasional sound of Aspen's spoon clinking against the froyo cup. Harry stole a glance at her every now and then, watching as the tension in her shoulders gradually eased.

When they arrived, Harry unlocked the door with a flourish and held it open, leaning against the frame with an exaggerated grin. "Welcome back to Casa Harry," he announced, his tone playful as he dipped into an exaggerated bow.

Aspen couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up at his antics, despite the lingering cloud of self-doubt from earlier. Shaking her head, she stepped inside, the warmth of his space immediately making her feel more at ease. The familiar scent of cedarwood and faint traces of his cologne wrapped around her like a comforting hug.

"You're such a dork," she teased, setting her bag down near the couch.

"Maybe," he replied, following her in and plopping down onto the couch with a dramatic sigh. He patted the cushion beside him and grinned up at her. "But I'm your dork, so that makes it acceptable."

Aspen's cheeks flushed, the endearing sincerity in his words making her chest tighten in the best way. He always had this effect on her—disarming her with his humor and charm, grounding her with his presence. She hesitated only a moment before sitting beside him, curling her legs under herself and holding the now-empty froyo cup in her lap.

Her fingers fidgeted with the plastic spoon as silence settled between them for a beat. "Thank you," she said softly, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the quiet.

Harry, who had leaned back against the couch with one arm draped casually along the backrest, glanced at her with a slight tilt of his head. "F'what?"

Aspen's gaze dropped to her hands, and she twisted the spoon between her fingers. "For coming to get me. For always knowing how to make me feel better," she murmured, her words tinted with a shy vulnerability that only he seemed to coax out of her.

Harry's gaze softened, his green eyes studying her as warmth spread through his chest. The way she looked at him—with a mix of gratitude and trust—made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world. She didn't always let her guard down, but when she did, it felt like she was offering him pieces of herself she kept hidden from everyone else.

"I'll always come for you, Asp," he said, his voice low but steady, a quiet promise in the words. "Always. You're kind of my favorite person, y'know."

Aspen's heart fluttered at his confession, her cheeks burning as she ducked her head to avoid his gaze. She wasn't used to someone being so openly devoted to her, so unapologetic in their care. It was overwhelming in the best way, like discovering a part of herself she didn't know she needed.

Harry reached out, his calloused fingers brushing her cheek as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The small, tender gesture sent a shiver down her spine. His touch was always warm, grounding her even when her thoughts threatened to spiral.

"Now," he said, his tone shifting to something lighter, "how about y'tell me what else I can do t'make your day better?"

Aspen looked up at him, the hint of a genuine smile breaking through her earlier gloom. His eyes, warm and full of affection, made it impossible not to feel safe. "Honestly? Just being here is enough," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper but carrying every ounce of truth she felt.

Harry chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. "Good," he murmured against her skin. "Because I don't plan on going anywhere."

The comfortable silence that followed was filled with unspoken gratitude and shared solace. Harry gave her knee a gentle squeeze, his lips quirking into a thoughtful smirk. "Y'know," he started, his tone casual but his gaze sly, "we should go out tonight."

Aspen blinked, caught off guard by the sudden suggestion. "Out? Where?"

Harry shrugged, leaning back and propping one ankle over his knee, the picture of nonchalant confidence. "Maybe Isobel's. I think being with the others might cheer you up. Could be a nice distraction."

Aspen hesitated, nibbling on her bottom lip. Social gatherings weren't exactly her forte, especially after the day she'd had. But before she could voice her reluctance, Harry added with a mischievous glint in his eye, "We could do karaoke."

Her eyes widened, a small laugh escaping her despite herself. "Karaoke? Harry, I'm not really one for singing in front of people."

"Ah, but you'd get to see me sing," he countered, his grin widening. "And 'm telling you now, baby, it's top-tier entertainment. You'll forget all 'bout that shitty exam."

Aspen couldn't help but imagine Harry up on stage, fully committing to some over-the-top performance with that cheeky charm he wielded so well. The thought alone had her lips twitching into a reluctant smile.

"Okay," she said softly, surprising even herself. "But only because seeing you make a fool of yourself sounds like the perfect distraction."

Harry laughed, his deep, rich tone filling the room like sunlight breaking through clouds. "You're in for a treat, then," he teased, his grin lopsided but brimming with affection. Beneath his playful exterior, he was already crafting a plan to lift Aspen's spirits—he wanted nothing more than to see her laugh and forget the weight of the day.

With a deliberate slowness, he reached out and took the empty froyo cups from her hands, setting them gently on the coffee table. The movement was simple, but it held the quiet intimacy that defined so much of their relationship—an unspoken understanding and care.

Sliding his hand over her knee, Harry let his fingers hook around the back of it, guiding her leg over his lap with a gentle tug. The action was natural, as if he'd done it a thousand times before, and it made Aspen's heart flutter in her chest. Harry leaned closer, his curls falling slightly into his face as he pressed a warm kiss to her forehead.

The contact was tender, grounding Aspen in the moment. She felt her shoulders relax, the tension she'd been carrying all day melting away under his touch.

"You're incredibly smart, Asp," Harry murmured, his voice low but steady, carrying a conviction that left no room for doubt. "Smart and beautiful and caring—and 'm so lucky to even know you, let alone be yours."

The weight of his words made Aspen's breath hitch, her eyes softening as they flickered up to meet his. She wasn't used to hearing such affirmations, especially not delivered with such earnestness. It made her chest swell with a warmth that was uniquely Harry.

"Don't ever forget that, okay?" he added, his hand sliding up to cradle her cheek. His thumb brushed tenderly across her smooth skin, the touch as comforting as it was electrifying.

Before Aspen could respond, Harry leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips. The kiss wasn't rushed or demanding—it was soft, full of quiet devotion and reassurance. Aspen felt her heart stutter, her chest swelling with an emotion so intense it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

She sighed contentedly against his lips, leaning into his touch as if she could anchor herself to him entirely. In moments like these, it felt like all she needed was Harry. The way he made her feel—safe, cherished, adored—was unlike anything she'd ever known.

"Thank you," she mumbled shyly when they pulled apart, her voice barely above a whisper. She tucked her head against Harry's shoulder, letting his familiar scent envelop her.

Harry's lips curved into a small, satisfied grin as he wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. "Of course, love," he murmured, resting his chin lightly on the top of her head.

After a beat of silence, Aspen spoke again, her voice soft and laced with vulnerability. "Can we stay like this for a bit? Before we go to Isobel's?"

Harry chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against her. "To Isobel's, huh? Not back to yours?"

Aspen lifted her head, her nose scrunching in an endearing way that made his grin widen. She rested her hand on his shoulder and propped her chin on the top of her hand, gazing up at him with an expression that made his chest tighten.

"I would say that my home is wherever you are, Har," she admitted, her words barely above a whisper but carrying a shy sincerity that hit him like a punch to the gut. A faint blush crept up her neck, and she quickly ducked her gaze, as if second-guessing her vulnerability.

Harry's heart swelled, his grin softening into something tender. "Asp," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He tilted her chin up gently with his fingers, ensuring her eyes met his. "You don't know how much tha' means t'me."

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, letting it linger as if to seal her words in his heart. "We can stay like this as long as y'want," he added, his voice a quiet promise. "You're my home, too."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Harry and Aspen got back to Isobel's no later than six. Harry had texted Zayn and let him know to bring Niall, Louis, and Liam with him if he was going to come to karaoke night at Isobel and Aspen's house. The man got ready at his, swapping his black tee for a blue and red plaid flannel and pushed his curls back with a Green Bay Packer's hat that he wore backwards.

When Aspen got back, she wanted to clean herself up a bit so she tasked Harry with helping Isobel clean up the living room and set out drinks and snacks. She ran upstairs and stripped from her clothes she wore to campus, already feeling more cheerful than she did. Aspen reached the consensus that worrying about her grade wouldn't change it and would just make her night spoiled. So, she took a breath and thought about being with Harry and all the heavy weight was lost.

She stood in front of her vanity upstairs, carefully laying out her outfit. The lingering heaviness from earlier in the day had lifted, replaced by the warmth of Harry’s comfort and her decision to let go of her worries for the night. Worrying about what her grade was would not change it, it would just push her into a deeper sulk. The girl decided she'd much rather spend time with her friends and Harry. 

The girl pulled on a black mini skirt that just skimmed the tops of her thighs over a pair of sheer black tights, both clinging well to her frame. Pairing it with a navy blue knitted crewneck, the soft fabric brushed against her skin and provided a cozy contrast to the slight edge of the skirt.

Sliding on a pair of frilly black socks, Aspen smiled at the reflection in her mirror. The playful combination of casual and chic suited her mood—light and free. Aspen was never one to 'sexualize' herself, but since that day at the shop with Harry, she was more keen to her figure.  

Her brown eyes skimmed over her frame, cinching at her waist and becoming more full at the hips under her crewneck. When she turned to the side, the hem of the crewneck rested above the generous curve of her ass. It wasn't like she had the best body, but it definitely made her smile a shy one to herself at the sight. She added a swipe of sheer deep red lip stain that gave her a touch of glam and brushed through her curls, now soft waves, before spritzing on her favorite perfume. With one final look, she decided she was good to go.

When she finally descended the stairs, the scent of chips and dip greeted her along with the faint clinking of bottles. Harry stood by the fridge, rummaging through its contents while Isobel poured a bag of chips into a plastic bowl.

“Is there any juice? Asp will want juice,” Harry asked, glancing over his shoulder at Isobel.

“I don’t think so,” Isobel replied, shrugging. “But I texted Zayn to grab some on his way.”

Harry hummed, closing the fridge with a small thud. He set the chilled bottles of brandy and vodka on the counter, his eyes flicking toward the sound of Aspen’s soft footsteps approaching from the hall. They never went unnoticed by him, no matter how quiet.

His gaze landed on her, and his lips curled into an easy grin. "Hi, beautiful," he murmured, holding out an arm until she stepped close enough for him to rest his hand lightly on the small of her back.

The warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver through Aspen, and she tilted her face up to meet his eyes. Harry’s gaze roamed over her, lingering briefly on the exposed skin of her thighs before returning to her flushed cheeks.

“You look good,” he said, his voice dipping lower with an appreciative edge.

Aspen ducked her head shyly, her lips curving into a soft smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

Harry pressed a lingering kiss to her temple, his breath warm against her skin. “They’re just about here. ‘M going to use the restroom, yeah?” he said softly, reluctantly pulling away.

Aspen nodded, her heart fluttering as he stepped back. The sound of the doorbell chiming echoed just as Harry disappeared down the hall, and Aspen turned toward the door, her pulse quickening with anticipation.

She opened it to see Zayn standing there, holding a bag full of juice boxes, flanked by Louis, Niall, and Liam, all grinning like they were ready for trouble.

"Hello, ladies!" Louis greeted, stepping inside with exaggerated enthusiasm. He gave Aspen a quick hug, followed by warm greetings from the rest of the group.

Isobel joined them moments later, and the room quickly filled with laughter and the hum of excited chatter. Harry emerged from the bathroom, his flannel sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and took the bag of juice boxes from Zayn with a nod of thanks.

“Alright,” Louis announced, pulling a bottle of vodka from the counter. “I propose a toast—or a shot, rather—to celebrate our newest and cutest couple!”

Harry chuckled softly as he tore into the pack of juice boxes, the plastic crinkling under his hands. He carefully pulled one out, pressing the straw through the foil with a precision that made it look almost comical. His grin spread wider as he turned, holding it out to Aspen with a flourish.

"Just for you," he said, his voice warm and teasing.

Aspen smiled shyly, reaching out to take it. Her fingers brushed against his, a small, fleeting touch that sent a familiar warmth coursing through her. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

As she took a sip, her eyes drifted to the bottle Louis had placed on the counter, its glossy label catching the kitchen light. She hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly before she glanced back up at Harry. “Are you... um, are you going to drink tonight?”

Harry tilted his head, his hazel eyes softening as he considered her question. He could sense the slight nervousness in her tone, and it made his heart ache in the best way—she cared. “I was thinking about it,” he said honestly, studying her expression. “You okay with that?”

Aspen hesitated, biting her lip as she considered her answer. She didn’t want to ruin the mood or make him feel like he couldn’t have fun, but she also couldn’t shake the small worry that lingered in the back of her mind. Finally, she nodded, meeting his gaze. “Yeah, just... not too much, okay?”

Harry smiled, his chest tightening at the vulnerability in her voice. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Promise,” he said simply, his voice low and steady.

Louis clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, lovebirds! Time for a toast!” He reached for the vodka bottle with one hand and grabbed a set of shot glasses with the other, his grin mischievous.

The group gathered around the counter, the energy in the room buzzing with anticipation. Harry poured out the shots, his movements smooth and deliberate, while Zayn and Isobel grabbed their drinks.

“C’mon, Aspen,” Louis said with a wink, holding up his shot glass. “We can’t toast without you!”

Harry handed Aspen her juice box with a knowing smile. “She’s got her drink,” he said, nodding toward the bright yellow carton.

Aspen laughed softly, holding up the juice box, the straw sticking out at an odd angle. “It’s not exactly vodka, but it works,” she joked, her cheeks warming under the attention.

Louis leaned over, clinking his glass gently against her juice box with a laugh. “Perfect. Cheers to Aspen for being the responsible one here!”

Everyone laughed, raising their glasses—or juice box—in unison. The clinking sound echoed through the kitchen, light and cheerful. Aspen smiled, feeling a flicker of warmth in her chest at the inclusion.

As the others downed their shots, Aspen took a sip from her juice box, her lips curving into a contented smile. Harry glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his grin softening as he watched her.

He could tell she felt a little out of her element, but she was trying—she always tried. And that was one of the things he admired most about her.

With the toast done, Isobel and Zayn set about hooking up the karaoke machine, their chatter filling the air. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys plopped down on the couch, their focus shifting to Aspen as they started asking her lighthearted questions and pulling her further into the group’s dynamic.

Harry leaned against the counter, content to watch the scene unfold, his heart swelling at how seamlessly Aspen was beginning to fit in. He was beyond thrilled that the sad look in her eyes were replaced with her usual shy, happy ones.

The boys sprawled out on the couch in various positions, the atmosphere lively but easygoing. Aspen found herself seated in one of the armchairs, her hands clasping the juice box Harry had handed her earlier. She twirled the straw absently, her eyes flitting between the faces of Harry’s friends as they all looked at her with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“So, Aspen,” Louis began, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. His mischievous grin was impossible to ignore. “What’s it like putting up with our Harry over here? I imagine he’s quite the handful.”

Aspen laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. She felt her cheeks heat up under their attentive gazes, but she managed to hold her own. “He’s not so bad,” she said, glancing at Harry. “Most of the time.”

The group erupted into laughter, and Harry, who had just returned from the kitchen with a beer in one hand and another juice box in the other, shook his head with a mock look of betrayal. “Ouch, love,” he teased, moving to perch himself on the arm of the chair next to her.

The proximity made Aspen’s heart skip a beat, but it also felt grounding. As he settled beside her, his arm brushed lightly against her shoulder, and she found herself subconsciously leaning a little closer to him.

“Careful what you say,” Harry warned with a grin, holding out the second juice box to her. “Or I might just keep this for myself.”

Aspen took it with a soft laugh, her fingers brushing his as she did. “Thanks,” she murmured, tucking it beside her for later.

“Alright, alright, next question!” Niall interjected, his blue eyes sparkling with interest. “Aspen, what do you study? Harry mentioned something about you being a genius, but he’s never given us the full story.”

Aspen’s cheeks flushed deeper, and she glanced down at her lap, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. “I’m a psychology major,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite her shyness. “With a focus on child development.”

“That’s incredible,” Liam said, his tone warm and sincere. “And Harry’s not wrong—you must be brilliant to tackle something like that.”

Aspen offered a small smile, her fingers fidgeting with the juice box straw again. “Thank you,” she replied softly.

Louis wasn’t done, though, his grin growing wider as he leaned back against the couch. “So, what’s the verdict on our boy Harry here? Is he a good boyfriend, or do we need to have a chat with him?”

Aspen blinked, caught off guard by the directness of the question. Her eyes darted to Harry, who was watching her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. She hesitated, but when she spoke, her words came from the heart.

“He’s... he’s amazing,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “He’s patient and kind and always knows how to make me feel better, even when I don’t say anything.”

The room fell quiet for a moment, her words hanging in the air. Harry’s expression softened, his lips curving into a gentle smile. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over hers.

“She’s too good for me, really,” Harry said, breaking the silence with a self-deprecating chuckle.

“Damn right she is,” Zayn quipped, earning a round of laughter from everyone.

Aspen felt herself relax as the boys continued to ask her questions—what her favorite book was, what hobbies she enjoyed, and even a playful interrogation about whether or not Harry was good at sharing his food (to which she answered with a laugh and a resounding “No, absolutely not”).

To her surprise, the more they talked, the more comfortable she became. The boys’ teasing was lighthearted and friendly, and their genuine interest in getting to know her warmed her heart. She realized she wasn’t as shy or reserved as she’d feared she would be, and she chalked that up to Harry’s reassuring presence at her side.

At one point, she leaned closer to him without even realizing it, her shoulder pressing lightly against his leg as he rested his arm along the back of her chair. Harry noticed the small movement, his grin widening as he glanced down at her.

“You’re doing great, love,” he murmured quietly, just for her to hear.

Aspen looked up at him, her lips curving into a shy but genuine smile. “Thanks,” she whispered back, her chest swelling with a quiet confidence she hadn’t felt in a while.

The lively atmosphere buzzed as Niall clapped his hands together, his grin as wide as ever. “Alright, lads, I think it’s time for another shot! Who’s in?”

A chorus of playful groans and cheers filled the room. Aspen sipped her juice quietly, watching as Niall got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen to gather glasses. Harry glanced down at her, his hand resting casually on her shoulder now, giving a gentle squeeze.

“You’re sticking with the juice, yeah?” he asked, his voice low and warm.

Aspen nodded with a small smile. “I think I’ll leave the hard stuff to you guys.”

He chuckled, reaching for his beer and taking a slow sip. “Smart move, love.”

As Niall returned with a tray of glasses and the bottle of vodka, Louis leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms behind his head. “While we’re waiting, I might as well fill you in on what I’ve been up to, yeah?” he said, his tone light but tinged with a hint of pride.

“Go on, Lou,” Harry encouraged, tipping his beer bottle in Louis’ direction. “Tell ’em all about it.”

Louis smirked, shifting forward in his seat. “Well, the music’s going great. I’ve been working on some new tracks, collaborating with a few cool artists. It’s been a dream, really,” he said, his grin softening. “But, I’ll admit, there are days I miss being at the shop. You know, working with my hands, the banter with clients—it’s not the same.”

Aspen tilted her head, intrigued. “What kind of music do you make?”

Louis’ grin widened. “A bit of everything, really—some indie rock, a bit of folk. I like experimenting with sounds. It’s been a journey figuring out what feels most ‘me,’ but I think I’m getting there.”

“That’s so cool,” Aspen said earnestly, her eyes lighting up with genuine interest. “I’d love to hear your stuff sometime.”

“I’ll send you a playlist,” Louis promised with a wink. Then, as if he couldn’t resist, he added, “You know, Harry’s the one who got me into music in the first place.”

Aspen’s brows lifted in surprise, her gaze shifting to Harry. “Really?”

Harry shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking into a sheepish smile. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s the talented one.”

“Don’t be modest, mate,” Liam cut in, leaning forward with a grin. “Aspen, you should hear him sing. He’s got this voice—deep, soulful—makes you stop in your tracks.”

Louis nodded in agreement, his expression earnest now. “He’s not just a singer, either. Harry writes, plays guitar, even dabbles in piano. The man’s a bloody genius when it comes to music. He just pretends not to be.”

Aspen’s cheeks flushed, and she turned to Harry, her curiosity piqued. “You never told me that,” she said softly, her tone more amazed than accusatory.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, his green eyes glinting with a mix of humility and embarrassment. “Didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“It is,” Aspen insisted, her voice gentle but firm. “I want to hear you sing sometime.”

Harry chuckled, leaning a little closer to her. “Maybe tonight, if you’re lucky,” he teased, his grin playful but his eyes warm.

Aspen’s stomach fluttered, and she bit her lip to hide her growing smile. The idea of seeing Harry sing—of hearing the passion in his voice that his friends were so adamant about—sent a thrill of excitement through her.

Niall returned just then, setting the tray of glasses on the coffee table and filling them up with precise care. “Alright, everyone, grab a glass! And Aspen, you can clink with your juice box. No one’s getting left out.”

Aspen laughed softly as the group cheered and reached for their drinks, Harry passing her juice box back into her hands. She held it up alongside the others, her gaze meeting Harry’s as their glasses and juice clinked together.

“To good music and good friends!” Louis toasted, his voice carrying a playful sincerity that made everyone laugh and cheer again.

As they downed their shots and Aspen took another sip of her juice, she couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of belonging. These boys, with their easy banter and genuine warmth, were becoming more than just Harry’s friends—they were quickly becoming her friends too.

Isobel wandered over, her movements a little less steady than usual, her cheeks flushed pink from the secret shot she’d taken with Zayn in the kitchen. She grinned lazily and plopped herself right into Aspen’s lap without so much as a warning.

“Isobel!” Aspen exclaimed, laughing as she instinctively steadied her friend by holding onto her waist. “You’re such a lightweight, you know that?”

Isobel shrugged, leaning her head against Aspen’s shoulder. “Maybe,” she said, her words slightly slurred but still coherent. “But it’s a party, and I’m having so much fun.”

Aspen chuckled, her earlier anxiety melting away in the warmth of Isobel’s cheerful demeanor. “I can tell. How many shots have you had?”

Isobel smirked, her finger pressing to her lips in a mock ‘shh’ motion. “Just... two? Maybe three. But don’t tell Harry; he’ll get all big brother-y on me.”

Aspen shook her head with a soft laugh. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

They sat there for a moment, Isobel twirling a strand of Aspen’s hair absentmindedly before asking, “How was your day? I mean, before this fun chaos?”

Aspen’s smile faltered for a moment as she thought about her exam. “It was okay, I guess. My midterm was rough. I think I really messed it up.”

Isobel sat up a little straighter, her expression growing more serious despite her tipsiness. “Hey, hey. None of that,” she said, poking Aspen’s nose lightly. “You’re the smartest person I know, Asp. And even if it didn’t go perfectly, one test doesn’t define you, okay?”

Aspen nodded, her throat tightening slightly at her friend’s earnestness. “I’m trying to keep that in mind. I just... I hate feeling like I didn’t do my best.”

Isobel’s eyes softened, and she cupped Aspen’s cheeks dramatically, her hands cool against Aspen’s warm skin. “You’re amazing, Aspen. Brilliant, kind, gorgeous—and anyone who says otherwise is wrong. Got it?”

Aspen couldn’t help but laugh, her spirits lifting. “Got it.”

“Good,” Isobel declared before leaning in and planting a quick, playful kiss on Aspen’s cheek. Then, without another word, she bounced up and rushed over to Zayn, who was already fiddling with the karaoke machine.

Aspen shook her head, smiling to herself as Harry leaned closer, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair. “She’s something else,” he said, his voice low and full of affection for the whirlwind that was Isobel.

“She really is,” Aspen agreed, her voice soft, as she sipped from her juice box again.

Harry straightened up and nudged her knee gently with his hand. “Come on. Let’s go raid the kitchen for some chips before she comes back and steals your lap again.”

Aspen laughed, setting her juice box down and taking Harry’s outstretched hand. His fingers curled around hers warmly, and he gave her a small squeeze as he led her toward the kitchen.

The noise of Zayn and Isobel arguing over song selections grew louder behind them, but Aspen felt herself relax as she stepped into the quieter space of the kitchen with Harry. The soft lighting contrasted with the vibrant energy of the living room, and for a moment, it was just the two of them.

Harry released her hand to open a cabinet, pulling down a couple of bags of chips. “What’re you in the mood for? Classic or something cheesy?”

Aspen leaned against the counter, watching him with a fond smile. “Cheesy, definitely.”

“Good choice,” Harry said with a grin as he grabbed the nacho-flavored chips. Then, without missing a beat, he turned back to her, his expression softening. “You holding up okay?”

Aspen nodded, her heart swelling at the quiet concern in his voice. “Yeah. I think I needed this. It’s been a good distraction.”

Harry stepped closer, setting the chips on the counter beside her. “I’m glad,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You deserve a good night, Asp.”

She smiled up at him, feeling the familiar warmth his presence always seemed to bring. “Thanks for being here.”

“Always,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. His lips trailed down to her temple, then cheek, and finally a small kiss to her lips. "I really like your outfit tonight. Really 's doing you wonders," Harry cheekily grinned. To that, she tilted her head.

Taking another sip of his beer and pulling a chip out, he shrugged. "Forgive me for my mouth, but your ass looks..." He puffed out a dramatic sound of air, eyes widening playfully before he fell into a chuckle at how the red rose up to her cheeks. "Phenomenal is the word I'd use. Feel's like it too," he smirked, taking another swig of his beer.

It wasn't like he was lying. No where near that. She did look great, she always did. The leggings she had wore the other day at the shop really proved it to him, too. But what could he say? He was a man after all. Harry loved every part of her,  he was sure of it. And god, it drove him crazy to have felt her ass in his hands; how soft it was, how his hands weren't big enough to even begin to cover it. 

Aspen swatted his chest and shushed him, looking back to check no one heard but she giggled nonetheless. "Harry!" He only shrugged his shoulders, setting his beer down to reach over and steal her juice box. "What's so good 'bout these, hm?" 

The man wrapped his lips around the straw, and Aspen looked a longer than she would admit. He hummed in approval, nodding his head. "Definitely tastes better than vodka, I'll tell you that," he laughed. 

Aspen rolled her eyes, though her smile betrayed her amusement. “Alright, alright. Give it back.,” she said, reaching for her juice box, but Harry held it just out of her reach with a mischievous grin.

“Oh? Or what?” he teased, leaning slightly against the counter as he took another exaggerated sip.

Aspen stepped closer, crossing her arms and giving him a mock glare. “It was mine first. Give it."

Harry chuckled, lowering the juice box but holding it out of reach again just as she made a grab for it. “Only if you say, ‘Harry, you’re the best boyfriend ever.’”

Aspen let out an exasperated laugh, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously great,” he corrected, winking at her.

“Fine,” Aspen said, rolling her eyes again. “Harry, you’re the best boyfriend ever. Happy?”

Harry’s grin widened as he finally handed her the juice box. “Ecstatic,” he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. Though, he ended up reaching behind him to get a box of his own. He'd rather babysit a juice box than a beer.

Aspen took a sip, watching him over the rim of the box as he picked up his juice again and leaned back against the counter, casual and self-assured. The soft glow of the kitchen lights caught in his curls beneath the backward cap, and the way he cradled the box in one hand with his other shoved into the pocket of his flannel made him look effortlessly cool.

She tilted her head slightly, taking in the scene, and an idea popped into her head. Her fingers itched for her phone, and she couldn’t help but smirk at the thought.

“Stay just like that,” she said suddenly, pulling her phone from her pocket.

Harry raised a brow, his lips curving into a curious smile. “Why? You gonna take a picture of your handsome boyfriend?”

Aspen nodded, biting her lip to suppress her own grin. “Exactly. You look too good right now not to document it.”

Harry chuckled, adjusting his stance slightly, clearly playing it up for her. “Alright, snap away, love. I’m ready for my close-up.”

She rolled her eyes at his theatrics but couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped her as she angled her phone. The camera captured the way his hat framed his face, his relaxed yet confident posture, and the mischievous glint in his eyes.

After snapping a few shots, Aspen glanced at her screen, satisfied with how the photo turned out. “Perfect,” she said softly, almost to herself.

“Lemme see,” Harry said, leaning closer to peek at the screen.

Aspen turned it toward him, and he let out a low whistle. “Not bad. You’ve got a good eye, Asp.”

She smiled, a small blush creeping onto her cheeks. “I might post it,” she admitted shyly.

Harry’s grin grew. “Oh, you’re posting me to the ‘Gram now? That’s big, Asp. I feel honored.”

Aspen giggled, shrugging. “I just... I like this side of you. It’s nice to share.”

Harry set his juice down and pulled her gently into his side, his arm draping over her shoulders. “Well, I’m glad you want to. Just make sure you tag me so I can brag about my gorgeous girlfriend.” He kept his eyes on her fiddling thumbs on the screen. Aspen laughed, leaning into him as she fiddled with her phone, already drafting a caption in her head.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

It was Harry's turn on the microphone now. He stood with Zayn, both of which near stumbled up to grab the mics and choose a song. 

"This goes out to our lovely ladies, and I guess Aspen and Isobel, too." Zayn laughed out, pointing at each person in the "crowd". The sultry melody of 'Careless Whisper' began to play through the speakers, and Aspen sat up in excitement. She was so ready to hear Harry sing and she was kind of shocked, not taking him as someone who listened to this kind of music. He lifted the beer in his hand and started off, dramatically closing his eyes and tilting his body up.

Aspen giggled softly, looking over at Isobel who was already making fun of them. Zayn soon chimed in to the next verse, and they swapped before Harry came to begin the catchy chorus himself. His voice was kept low, dripping with his accent but he carried the words out so thick and heavenly that Aspen swore would make her whip her head around if she wasn't already watching.

"Tonight the music seems so loud, I wish that we could lose this crowd," Harry sang out, his finger lifting off the neck of the beer bottle to point at Aspen with his lopsided grin and a wink before he continued. Her face flushed and she rolled her eyes, tucking the pillow in her lap further against her while she took in the show in front of her.

He really was a good singer and performer, she thought. There was absolutely nothing Harry was bad at. The man seemed to take phenomenal photos, had an angelic voice, and brought life behind the microphone and tattoo gun with ease. That was her Harry.

The uproar of clapping and laughter filled the room when they closed out their song and bowed dramatically. Zayn blew kisses to the crowd and pretended to catch flowers before they both stumbled back to their partners. Harry took his seat next to Aspen now, Isobel having scurried off to Zayn. 

The girl grinned as she looked up at her very tipsy boyfriend, her hand coming up to brush his cheek lightly. "That was incredible, H. Who would've thought?"

Harry only chuckled, taking her hand on his face into his after leaning into her touch a few moments. He pressed a series of kisses over her knuckles. His eyes were slightly red, noticeably droopy but also slightly puffy. "Thank you, my darling dearest." He poshed his accent up which only drew giggles from the both of them. Harry took a look around the occupied room, everyone deep in their own conversations four shots in. His eyes slowly met Aspen's again, and his hand gently dropped to rest on her knee. His thumb worked small patterns over the sheer material which sent a shiver down Aspen's spine. 

"Come sit in m'lap," Harry's voice drew low in her ear. She looked around shyly, nodding but still raising the question. "My skirt, H..." She blushed, fiddling with the end of it. The only reason she needed the pillow in her lap in the first place was due to its revealing length when she sat down. It wasn't drastic, but it wasn't anything she was used to.

"It's okay, I'll cover you. Please?" Harry muttered his plea against her ear, his nose brushing through her soft hair. His lips turned into a smile once she gave in and he sat further back, taking her hand to guide her carefully onto his thigh. Harry hummed in approval, pulling the pillow back to sit up against the back of Aspen, in case her skirt rose. He set another small pillow in her lap and secured his arm around her, making sure it was okay. When she nodded, he pressed a lazy kiss to her shoulder and thanked her softly, just enough for her to hear. 

Harry's other hand curled around the back of the pillow and rested on her hip, securing the pillow to her frame. He gently tapped his fingers and ran his fingers along the hem of her skirt where it met her sheer tight-covered thighs. Harry gently lifted the material only for it to snap back into place. The small motion was definitely not noticeable but it still made Aspen blush intensely. 

Her arm came to wrap around his firm and broad shoulders, and Harry responded by leaning into her with ease. The comfort she brought him, especially while being intoxicated, was the best kind of overwhelming feeling. The man took his lip ring between his teeth while his chipped-nail polish fingers tapped along her thigh while they tuned in and participated in multiple conversations through the night.

Somewhere along the end of the night, Aspen had offered their home to the far drunk men, and Isobel. Zayn would obviously bunk with Isobel and Harry with Aspen, so that left plenty of room for the other three to crash. She kissed Harry's cheek softly before bidding him a temporary goodbye to grab blankets for the crew. 

It only took about twenty minutes to tidy up their night-- toss the cups and bottles, put away the machine, and fix up the snacks. Harry trailed behind her, more sober than the rest but still tipsy, and offered helping hands which definitely brought Aspen relief. She in no way intended to wake up to deal with hangovers and a messy apartment. The girl set a bottle of Advil on the kitchen counter along with a note saying there was water in the fridge while everyone began to groan and slug around to find comfortable spots. 

When Aspen and Harry got up to her room and she slipped out of her skirt, her crewneck still covering her, he scattered her face in kisses. She giggled and held his wrists, taking in each of his wet and sloppy kisses to her face and mouth. 

"Alright, alright! Get in bed. I just have to change and I'll come snuggle." She ruffled Harrys curls after placing his hat neatly on the stand and handed him a pair of sweatpants she pulled from Isobel's clump of clothes in her room. 

"These are Zayns, I'm pretty sure. Isobel has a bad habit of keeping all her junk in my room."

Harry sat up, taking the sweats with his droopy eyes on Aspen still. "You know," he started, slightly slurred but not the annoying kind, "you don't need pants. Jus' come lay down. I promise I'll behave," Harry flashed his lopsided grin. In his defense, she never slept well with pants on anyways. So who was he to stop her routine to feel comfortable?

Aspen debated, but it only took two seconds as she was bound to remove any pants she slipped into anyways. She nodded, picking up one of the oversized shirts she had and made her way to the bathroom to change into that and remove her makeup.

When the girl came back out, Harry was cuddled up with her pillow, his jeans discarded on the floor and the sweats clung low on his hips, which made her smile softly. The girl shut off the light in the bedroom and closed her bedroom door, making her way back into her bed. Finally. All she needed today was her bed and Harry, and now she had both.

Harry wasted no time and wrapped an arm around the girls waist to immediately pull her against his chest. She rolled and giggled softly, snuggling into him nonetheless. "You turn into a big baby when you drink, you know?" 

The man peeped one eye open to look down at her and closed them again with a grumble, snuggling into her and burying his nose into the sweet scent of her hair. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, baby." Aspen hummed, the harsh thump sound of his heartbeat filling her ears before it gradually slowed and his breathing became more shallow.

Harry was long gone and fast asleep, and Aspen followed quickly behind. 

---

fun fact, 'darling dearest' is the name of a fanfiction i wanted to write about italy!harry :p

[in-the-pocket]

[ sling ] sender slings an arm around receiver's shoulder

Evening. St. Vitus bar (rip, it lives on in my heart), at the far end of Greenpoint. The bill's a horror story in and of itself: MIDNIGHT, JESUS PIECE, ESCUELA GRIND, 200 STAB WOUNDS. The place is a total dive, dimly lit and packed to the gills. Stickers adorn stray surfaces, largely from acts who have played here before.

There, milling in the crowd, up front and to the right ("Trust me, it's the safest spot to be.") against a barricade-free stage, Lance tries and fails to be cool about it. It being taking a drink and gently slinging an arm about her shoulders, tattooed knuckles relaxing once he's done so.

"You nervous?"

The question takes her by surprise. Not only because she was starting to drown in the noise, but because it's an oddly tender question for him.

Lance had texted her approximately eight minutes before he was in the lobby of her apartment. She cursed and immediately called him. She asked him what to wear. He'd said "anything." She hated him for that. He always made sure she was comfortable and true to herself. It irritated her to no end. She huffed and puffed and elbowed him several times while they were gently rocked on the E train into Brooklyn.

She went with a black short-sleeved button down and high waisted black jeans to at least not attract attention with color. The orange and red curls were enough. Her shoes were a pair of her dance sneakers. Unassuming. Normal. Not a dead giveaway. When they'd walked in, she took a mental note of the slipperiness of the floors under her smooth soles. This would make a great dance floor...

But this was not a swing dancing venue with big band horns blaring and pairs of dancers crowding the floor. Folks here stand shoulder to shoulder chatting and murmuring about all sorts of things she doesn't understand. Growls, screams, squeals. What is this, a zoo?

The young woman tilts her head up and to the side, the little curious dog thing she does. She laughs quietly in the hopes that the chatter snuffs it out. It wavers a bit. She wavers a bit.

"Don't think so," she quips. Her brown eyes are even darker than usual in this dim lighting and they quickly scan the characters standing around them. They dart from face to face with the same quickness they had when she was on stage. It was a necessary skill to gauge the crowd.

"I like the energy in here. Very different from stuff I usually go to. I can feel the electricity building between everybody." She's thoughtful, aware, in tune. She feels that same electricity in the hairs on her uncharacteristically toned forearms.

It's only after her comment that she notices how comfortably his arm hangs over her shoulder. Even if the volts increase in her skin, he's grounded with his rubber soles. Pippa can tell he's not putting his full weight on her. Again with the making sure she's comfortable. Ugh.

And tonight will be another night she doesn't call attention to the physical connection. Like other days and nights where they hold onto one another and connect lazily, she'll let it linger, breathe it in, then exhale and let it pass naturally when it ends.

She's not uncomfortable. Not in this place, not next to him, not under his arm. Saying that wasn't necessary though.

Pippa wiggles her foot again. It slides easily. She scoots a bit closer to him, pressing half of her back against his chest now. If someone falls into her a bit too hard, she's got no traction. Might as well get herself stable and situated before the chaos starts. Hopefully he says nothing- lets it linger and pass.

She says nothing for a few moments, silently observing his warmth against her. This place was already getting warm, but his heat was less oppressive. More reassuring.

Suddenly, she jerks forward and her eyes widen.

"Shit! Almost forgot," she shoves a manicured hand into her front pocket and digs out two little rubber cases. They both read Vic Firth on the front. She opens one of them and pulls out two earplugs attached together with a string and shoves one immediately into her right ear canal. He may be someone she can count on to keep her off the floor and safe from being punched, but he can't stop tinnitus ringing.

She holds out the other case up to him with a cheeky grin. "Figured you don't wanna use one of my gross pairs. So I gotcha some new ones for yourself."

And there it is. The tacit acknowledgment of proximity of heart, body and musical interest.

[goldammerchen]

HRE = A child that couldn't grow, never got to be an adult. He probably died lamenting not being able to reach adulthood and be treated as such.

Germany = Grew too fast, barely had any childhood. A serious person, Ludwig probably saw his fast growth as a postive, brushing off older countries telling him to enjoy his boyhood while it lasted ("besides I'm not growing at the same rate as a human anyway")... Didn't start lamenting his short childhood until WWI.

[child-ofdust]

thinkign about my f/os helping me deal w my disorders n stuff makes me feel better.... my brain tries to shut me down sometimes and be like "Thats stupid" but Who Cares .

there's some thjngs it can't help, no matter how much i want to i still can't speak properly in public or even at all to strangers, but just imagining my f/os are near me & talking / helping me through my avpd has made me go from having anixety attacks just standing in my backyard to being able to go inside grocery stores and actually shop even while crowded like.... that is so awesome sauce...

i never in my life though i'd be able to do that again, for a time i didn't think i'd ever be able to go outside at all again, but selfshipping is awesome and i am mentally ill and i think the former is very helpful & epic when you're the latter but that might just be mmy pov though

[the-gay-cryptid]

I have this one writing professor who's overall great, but she has these little particular expectations that drive me insane. The big one is that we have to write a 50 word response to all of our classmates' weekly stories. But this is a workshop. We make those comments in class. We have full conversations where the writers can hear pur tone and respond and ask questions in the moment.

Why the fuck do we have to leave feedback comments?????

[frivolous-pastel]

If you're looking down on or mocking something you're scoffing at it

If you're eating really fast and practically throwing food down the hatch you're scarfing it

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

[stellardeer]

it's strange how you can know something forever and not even have to think about it, but then sometimes you just suddenly second guess yourself and can't remember how to spell a very simple word.

[genderenvykeefe]

.

[pomegranatesarchive]

how do you spell bueutiful? | ln4

pairing: lando norris x manager!reader

summary: what are the odds of two dyslexic people dating?…pretty high apparently.

purposely made grammar mistakes, you’ve been warned!!! i fear i might’ve went a little off topic, but here’s this!!! mclaren are the champions, congratulations to my favorite sinister and evil orange team <33

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 428,916 others!

yourusername: oscar took me too diner and then made me pay…3/10 experience would not try again

view comments below!

user1: wait, are you and oscar dating???

user2: no because i’m confused too…is that him in the first picture?

user3: are you guys forgetting that oscar has a whole gf? that cannot be him

user4: but like…this looks like a bf appreciation post?

user5: she’s his manager, ofc she’s going to post him

user6: but are we going to deny that the first picture looks like soft launching 🤨

landonorris: i personally think that the first picture came of wrong, it probably is soft luanching but like no with oscar you know? i don’t know tho, just thinking, but probaly yeah…

user7: you said a whole lotta nothing buddy

user8: he had 3 grammatical mistakes in that sentence

user9: yn had 2 mistakes in her caption 💀

user10: aren’t they both dyslexic?

user12: i just love the way this conversation went

user13: that’s a lot of food for just 2 people 😏

oscarpiastri: to*

oscarpiastri: dinner*

yourusername: first you made me pay for your food and now your correcting my grammar? consider youreself BLOCKED

oscarpiastri: you’re *

oscarpiastri: yourself*

oscarpiastri: + you’re my manager, it should be your job to feed me 🤚

yourusername: my job is too get you contracts so YOU can put food on the table

oscarpiastri: to*

yourusername: ARGH LETS SEE WHO GETS YOU CONTRACTS JOW

oscarpiastri: now*

user14: okay you see i can’t tell if this is flirting

user15: girl 💀 oscar has a gf, they are most definitely just friends

user16: OKAY BUT WHO IS SHE SOFT LAUNCHING WITH

user17: imagine trying to soft launch and people think it’s the guy you manage

user18: it’s her fault honestly, this whole collage is basically saying ‘LOOK ME AND OSCAR ARE DATING’

user19: no you guys are just WERID.

landonorris: horrible soft launch, 2/10

user20: oh?

yourusername: shut up lando norris

landonorris: make me yn ln

user21: OH SO YOU GUYS ARE THE ONES SOFT LAUNCHING

user22: i'd sure hope so, or else yns bf should be feeling real confused right now

liked my landonorris, alex_albon, and 269,085 others!

yourusername: me (a dyslexic) when i realized that being a manger means reading hundreds of documents over and over again

view comments below!

user23: (a dyslexic) is taking me out

user24: I hope you are aware that you are great inspiration for me, (a dyslexic)

user25: alll jokes aside, how do you handle that?

yourusername: i take billons and billons of breaks 🫠 if i didnt i would go mad

oscarpiastri: billions*

yourusername: i have a gun

user26: still soft launching i see

user27: i still don’t think lando and her are dating, oscar and her all the way 💯

user28: how delusional does one have to be…

user29: you people make me want to rip my hair out!!! yn and oscar are NOT dating

user27: says who?

user29: THEM!! THEM THEMSELVES HAVE SAID IT

user27: and i’m just supposed to believe everything they say?

user28: i will kill you

user29: pls for the love of everything just post a picture of you and lando making out so these idiots WILL SHUT THE FUCK UP

liked by landonorris

user30: you guys need to leave these dyslexic lovers ALONE

liked by mclaren, lewishamilton, and 381,018 others!

yourusername: mclaren? sorry i only know 2024 consturcters CHAMPIONS!!!!

view comments below!

user31: constructors*

user32: y’all act like she can help it

user33: can you imagine getting correct on something you can’t help 24/7

user34: oh i’d be SICK

oscarpiastri: constructors***

oscarpiastri: jokes aside, thanks for your big part of this, i guess 👍

yourusername: oh you love me

user35: never being the allegations

landonorris: love hm?

yourusername: love love love

oscarpiastri: please stop you two make me feel awkward

user36: how do you think we feel

user37: everyday i fight off oscar x yn shipperd just for yall to pull this? sick i say, SICK

user38: i swear yn and lando are just playing with us, JUST SAY IF YOUR DATING OR NOT

user39: is just me that thinks it’s pretty obvious they’re dating?…

maxverstappen1: don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone you paid me off so i can back off and let mclaren win!!

yourusername: SLANDER

maxverstappen1: thank god your check cleared

yourusername: 1) of course my check cleared who do you think i am? 2) if i DID pay you off, it wouldn’t been for the drivers championship, not the constructors, duh 🙄

maxverstappen1: wow your admitting to THINKING about paying me off? FIA GET HER ASS

oscarpiastri: you would’ve paid him off to give ME the drivers championship, right?

yourusername: …

oscarpiastri: …right?

yourusername: ……

landonorris: the tables are turned 😏

oscarpiastri: you two are SICK we agreed that when you and lando started dating ME, OSCAR PIASTRI would come first. don’t talk to me, i don’t want to hear it

user40: oh

user41: no way this is how lando and yn make it official

maxverstappen1: i have created destruction, see you guys after the break!

user42: THIS IS SO FUNNY??

user43: weeks of soft launching and we get confirmation by oscar?? of all people???

user44: i don’t think i’ve ever seen oscar so emotional

user45: it just got so real

liked my oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 519,028 others!

yourusername: courtisy of oscar

view comments below!

maxverstappen1: this is max erasure! i’m the one who started the conversation :( give me my credit!

yourusername: are you serious?

maxverstappen1: yes…

yourusername: 😐 okay max, i give you credit for announcing my relatinship to the world!

maxverstappen1: thank you 😊

user28: @ user27 i don’t think that’s oscar! hmmm, who would’ve thought?

user46: oh he’s in LOVE

user47: the look in his eyes—omg i can’t

user48: my jaw stayed in place

oscarpiastri: courtesy** dummy

yourusername: WOAH

landonorris: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI, YOU TAKE THAT BACK

oscarpiastri: IM SORRY im still not over your betrayal

yourusername: you will always be my second choice for the drivers championship 🧡

oscarpiastri: YOU ARE MY MANAGER, I SHOULD LEGALLY AND MORALLY BE YOUR FIRST CHOICE

landonorris: how do you spell bueutiful?

carlossainz55: did you just try to call yourself beautiful?

landonorris: no? i called my girlfriend beautiful

carlossainz55: there’s no photos of yn here, it’s just you

landonorris: so?

carlossainz: so you just called yourself beautiful, or at least tried too

landonorris: hm. it’s okay, yn understands what i meant 🧡 right?

yourusername: yup…totally

oscarpiastri: she totally didn’t understand what you meant

user49: this whole relationship makes me so happy

[lovedrruunk]

Arcane women and their very specific toxic traits/red flags

this hurt my soul to make but THE TRUTH MUST BE SPOKEN!!!

Caitlyn, constantly feels the need to correct you. Whether it be your grammar, spelling, literally just anything you get wrong, you best believe she’s right there correcting you like the KNOW IT ALL she is. She also has the tiniest savior complex but if you point it out she'll deny it and get defensive. If you don’t meet her high standards or expectations (that r UNSPOKEN), she’ll try to “help” you improve but it just feels more like constant nitpicking than support.

Sevika, don’t even try to ask this woman something. 100% believes in stupid questions. If you ask her something she deems as dumb she will actually get so pissed off even if you’re completely serious. She’ll give you this look of pure annoyance/disappointment that will honestly just make you shut yourself up. Loves to answer with “’Dunno.” WHEN SHE DAMN WELL BE KNOWING!!!! Has a whole “Figure it out yourself” attitude

Jinx, never gives you details about anything. Will just randomly leave the house without telling you where she's going because she thinks there's no reason for you to know. She doesn't do it to be secretive like she genuinely just doesn't understand why you need to know if it has 'nothing to do with you.' If you scold her about it she'll pretend to understand but still won't remember to tell you whenever she goes out. Also this isn’t JUST about her leaving the house it’s about literally everything like she just won’t tell u anything

Vi, has a really bad interrupting problem. You'll be telling her about something and if you say even one word that reminds her of something else she'll bring it up and change the entire conversation topic. She thinks she's being engaging but really it's just super annoying and makes you not even want to tell her about your day because you know she'll just end up talking about something else.

Mel, is lowkey highkey really manipulative... like she definitely knows how to use her charm to get you to do what she wants. She's like so good at it too like you won't notice what she was doing until you're already stuck doing what she's asked for. She's so like nice and sweet with the way she gives you attention right before asking you to get something done for her.

edit: I WROTE THIS LAST NIGHT WHEN I WAS SLEEP DEPRIVED AND FORGOT I POSTED IT LMAO I feel like these could’ve been better so maybe part 2 soon…

[enbyboiwonder]

“You can’tplease people who like you.”

Aside from missing a space—um, what? Okay, sure, “people-please” is usually used as the noun “people-pleaser” rather than as a verb, but. “You can’t please him into liking you” is a perfectly valid construction, and “You can’t please people who like you,” while also a valid sentence, does not convey even close to the same thing.

Google’s suggestions never used to be this bad. Why do people think “A.I.” is a good idea, again? It can’t think. I have a fic I started recently where there are a few random instances where it wants me to put verbs in the past tense, making the tenses not agree with the rest of the story, a.k.a. the exact kind of thing it’s supposed to fix, not randomly add in. Shitty google grammar/usage suggestions used to be it wanting me to use “quake” or “quiver” instead of “quirk,” or “hurts” instead of “hefts,” but at least it’s only the word choice that doesn’t make sense and it’s still technically grammatical. Now like half the suggestions it makes are ungrammatical, like wrong parts of speech and removing the possessive [’s] (although I guess that does still fall under “wrong parts of speech” since it wants me to turn an adjective into a noun). Some are still the old kind, but the rest is crap like this.

God, I wish I could turn it off on my phone. So what if that means it doesn’t catch typos. Half the things it thinks are typos are just romanized Japanese names and words anyway. Hell, half the actual typos I make it doesn’t catch, even when the typo isn’t a word!

[snekdood]

my bf told me it was “might as well” not minus well but idc bc my version is quicker and u already know what im saying so who care

[brnesblogposts]

Do you take this pebble?

Bucky barnes x fem!reader

this was written quickly because if i didn’t do it now i never would so sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes. also i suck at using punctuation so ignore that too!

——————————————————————-

“Hey what’s wrong, Doll?” Bucky asks as he walks into the bedroom to find his best girl crying.

“Penguins” She mutters out and Buckys face turns into a perplexed expression.

“Penguins?” He asks as he scoots onto the bed to get closer to her, laying a hand on her thigh.

“Did you know- did you know that the male penguin will scour the area for the perfect pebble to present to the female as a way of proposing? If she says yes they mate for life.” She starts crying again and Bucky tries holding back his laugh because he thought something had upset you but no you’re crying over penguins.. He moves a bit to accommodate you on his lap, your head on his chest as he rubs his hands up and down your back to soothe you.

“This is ridiculous, i’m ridiculous. Sorry” You apologise for being overly dramatic and Bucky shushes you, you’ve always been emotional and the smallest thing, sad or happy can set you off. He finds it endearing how much you feel.

“It’s okay, baby” He kisses the crown of your head “It’s not ridiculous” He reassures you. The two of you lay there for awhile in each others embrace.

____________ The next morning _____________

After the whole debacle of your emotional breakdown over penguins last night Bucky and you both woke up and got on with your regular activities, him going out to run some ‘errands’ that you apparently weren’t allowed to join him on.. so you tended to some spring cleaning of the apartment.

A few hours later Bucky returns.

“Hey Buck, I missed you” You approach him and wrap your arms around him as he returns the hug, he has a bag in his hand.. a suspicious bag..

“I got you something” He says and you automatically smile, he always thinks of you when he’s out, whether it be him bringing home your favourite treat or a bouquet of your favourite flowers.

“Yeah..? What is it” You beam excitedly and he laughs at your eagerness. You both walk to the kitchen where he sets the bag down on the island.

“Close your eyes and put your hands out” He says and you give him one last suspicious look before you listen and close your eyes. It’s then you hear him go into the bag and get something out, a few seconds later something is placed in your hands, it’s weirdly heavy.

“Open them!” He’s got a bright smile plastered on his face anticipating your reaction.

You open your eyes.

“A pebble?”

“You know how you were telling me about penguins last night..” He jogs your memory and it instantly works because you’re putting it down and jumping into his arms.

“OH MY GOD BUCKY YOU GOT ME A PEBBLE!” He laughs at how adorably excited you are. Eventually he manages to pry you off of him.

“It’s not just any pebble.. break it open.. theres a pretty crystal inside” At this your eyes brighten up, you pick the pebble up and put it on the chopping board and use a hammer that’s meant for meat to break it open. It takes a few tries but eventually you get it open and see what’s inside and pick it up.

“A diamond??” You look at it absolutely baffled and turn around to ask Bucky what it’s all about but stop in your tracks at the sight before you.

Bucky on one knee. Bucky on one knee holding an empty band, looking at you with the most love stricken eyes.

“Accept my pebble and do me the honour of being my mate forever?” He is smiling so big and you stand shocked as tears escape your eyes.

“Bucky..” The biggest grin breaks out on your face.

“What do you say, doll? Will you marry me? Be my penguin partner forever and ever?” He doesn’t get time to prepare himself for the way you launch yourself at him fall to your knees in front of him and wrap your arms around him so tightly

“I take it that’s a yes?” He himself is tearing up now and you lean back to look at him unable to form words simply nodding as tears stream down your face. He takes your hand and puts the band on it.

“Well need to take it back to the jewellers so they can put the diamond in” He starts to explain but you shut him up with a kiss that tells him all that you couldn’t say.

“Bucky Barnes I won the lottery with you” You say cupping his face and kissing him again.

“Doll you have no idea the way the universe answered my prayers by allowing me to find you.” He mutters out as he starts to properly ball and you both cried and kissed and hugged and started dreaming of the rest of your lives

reblogs appreciated if you liked it!

[smokescreenimusprime]

not my usual but it was too perfect to pass up and the idea was NOT leaving my head. Decided to write a snippet for @keferon's IMMACULATE Mecha Pilot Jazz AU, though apologies if the charactization is a lil funky, this is my first time writing either of these characters and double apologies for the undoubted slew of grammar and spelling errors

but that aside, I hope you enjoy :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is It Self Sacrifice If It's Not Really You?

Despite the cacophany of the battlefield, Prowl's scream cut through it with with the ease of a freshly sharped blade through flesh and found it's home nestled into Jazz's ears.

He barely had a second to look up, hardly more than a glance, but it was all he needed to make out familiar white and black.

A Quintesson, one of the smaller but more freaky looking ones, was looming over his collapsed frame. He was pinned, his back to solid rocky walls and the Quint at his front, jamming it's tentacles into every crack of his armour they could.

He was putting up one hell of a fight, but something was wrong.

"PROWL!" he shouted, shifting his weight in preperation to bolt. "HOLD ON, I'M COMMIN-"

But the screech of the Quintesson he was currently grappling with forcefully stole his attention back, barely any warning given before it's gaping maw latched onto his mech's forearm.

It pulled, joints and plates creaking with the strain but still holding strong. It shook it's head and Jazz brought a hand up to brace against the outside of the monster, if only to stop the arm from being completely ripped out of the socket. He landed a few solid kick as it lifted him off the ground, but it's movements were still largey effortless, like his frame weighed as much as a tin can.

Prowl screamed again. This time it was louder.

Against all common (sane) sense, Jazz looked away from his enemy and toward Prowl

Some of his external plating was damaged, gouges in messy circle patterns with rivulets of blue energon sluggishly bleeding out. He seemed to be smoking too, thin curls of smoke wafting off his cables. His eyes were flickering wildly, something Jazz had grown to associate with too much damage and too little power.

All of the damage paled in comparison to where Jazz's focus was.

Now, Jazz didn't know how these guys had their mechs built, but they could hold up to some serious punishment. Their engineers seemed to keep an even more meticulous eye on any damage, and Prowler and the other's all had frames clealy meant to last.

But they were all still vulnerable at their cores.

And the Quintesson's tentacles, sparking with a terrifying yellow and red electricity, were pulling and prying right at the plating above that core.

It was starting to show some give too, a testimate to the true strength of the offending monster. Chest plating, no matter the make, didn't come off easily, intent to protect the most vulnerable parts of a pilot.

The electricity was already frying his frame, if it got a straight shot of that to his chest-

Jazz needed to do something.

Jazz needed to do something.

But what, what could he do, whatever it was it needed to be quick, he didn't have time to finish off this Quintesson, there wasn't time for finesse, he just needed to go to help to F I G H T -

Jazz readjusted the braced positioning of his legs, thanking for what was probably the thousandth time the engineers who'd made the adjustment to give him more flexibility and agility, and brought his free arm high above his head.

And brought it down.

His trapped arm creaked, the plating denting and squealing as the metal controted, sparks going flying and red error messages flashing in his vision.

He did it again.

And again.

And again.

He made sure to keep his blows aimed at preciscely where he knew it was weakest and made sure to push with his legs as hard as he could, swaying side to side and focing the joint to bend in ways it had never been meant to. His movements became a dance to the orchestra of cables snapping and metal ripping and electricity cracking and his arm b r e a k i n g , the dance growing faster and more determined the louder the music played.

It felt like eternity, and the phantom sensation was disorienting. There was no pain, only uncomfortable pressure that built up and up and up, perfectly in time with the warning messages he forcefully dismissed. It was far from pleasant, but it was nothing compared to the cold burning terrified angry fight flight save him running full blast in his brain.

And with one final crack akin to lightning, he was free.

It was the furthest thing from a clean break, and to his mild surprise it didn't break at the elbow but rather a bit above it. In the second of freefall he had, he couldn't help but admire the shredded stump and mourn how he knew Ratchet was going to have his head for all the extra work.

He hit the ground in a roll and popped up running, stumbling and nearly falling face first into alien dirt at the sudden uneven weight distribution but he simply let his partial fall carry him forward until he was sprinting full speed.

With his remaining hand he grabbed the Quintesson and pulled, not letting go until it wasn't tearing into Prowl's front and instead embedded several feet in the ground. He dashed, not giving it even a moment, standing tall in front of Prowl.

The Quint got back up, enraged screeches and chitters coming out of it's mouth.

"Back off," Jazz growled back.

The Quintesson attacked, and everything became the hyperaware blur combat always became.

Dodge, dodge, punch, dodge, kick, kick, punch, dodge, jump, kick jump-

One of it's tentacles latched right onto the open stump and set a wave of electricity in.

His mech's vision went bright white, sparks exploding out even inside his cockpit and the smell of burning metal filling his nose. All the protective insulation was made useless from the direct route into the mech's systems.

Jazz jerked his arm stump back and headbutted it.

He got a tentacle to the face for his troubles, grabbers squeezing and cracking the visor. He planted his feet, one on solid ground the other on the slack of the tentacle, and pulled as hard as he could.

A decent chunk of the face came left it, not deep enough to affect any systems or his vision anymore than it was already damaged, but enough that it certainly wasn't pretty.

He kept more distance after that. Wouldn't do any good for him or Prowler if he got fried too. But the Quintesson was desperate, like a cornered animal, grabbing and clawing at anything it could gets it's tentacles on. The same gouges Prowl had began to litter his own armour as it kept making grabs, and the beastie even managing to get a few more much briefer electrical surges in.

It was obvious only one of them was going to walk away from this fight, and Jazz was not going to let it be the Quint. Prowl would kill him if he did

Finally he managed to get in a lucky shot, albeit at the cost of his feet. The Quintesson tried to get in a bite like it friend had, only to be met with the full force of Jazz's feet pressing them apart.

The teeth and other horrors might've torn through his feet but dammit if it wasn't satisfying to hear the crack as its jaw snapped and the body went limp.

The battle was still going on around them, but it was starting to wind down. A trio of bots had even started attacking the one Jazz had left behind.

The immediate area was clear, and there were more than enough bots he could shout out to for backup if he needed it.

"Prowler, you okay?" he said, though he noticed his voice had a bit of static lacing it. Maybe getting his face ripped off did more damage than he thought, or it could be lingering damage from the electricity. "Sorry it took me so long to come getcha, talk, dark and bitey kept me a bit occupied."

He wiggled his stump with a chuckle, leaning in closer. Kneeling down was difficult with the leaking hydraulic fluid and Quintesson salivia making it hard to get a solid grip, but with the current state of his visor he didn't want to risk missing anything on Prowl. To his relief, despite the extensive denting and electrical burns, Prowl's chest was thankfully uncompromised. Hopefully his mech was insulated

The electricity seemed to have done a number on his connection to the head though, the eyes were still glitching wildly and his normally expressive face seemed stuck.

"J-Jazz..." Prowl stuttered, and Jazz found himself frowning. Maybe Prowl got a bit more banged up on the inside than he thought. "You- your-"

His eyes were flickering wildly about Jazz's mech, and he could practically hear his friend's battle computer crunching away.

"Ah, don't worry bout that," he rapping his mech's chest with a fist. "This old frame's gone through worse. Nothing delicate got smashed, and I've barely got a scratch on me. Ratchet'll have me right as rain before you know it, so don't worry your pretty little head one bit."

"Speaking of, I'm gonna go find 'im," he stood back up, looking around the battlefield. "The fight's pretty much over, and I'm not sure if it's a great idea for you to be moving after all that zappy nonsense. Just sit tight and-"

"No!"

Jazz startled a bit at the sudden shout, looking back down at Prowl. The other man's mech suddenly lunged up, sitting straight and looking at him with wide eyes.

"Prowler? Is somethin wrong?"

"I will contact Ratchet," he says in a rush. "A comm message will be more efficient than searching on foot, not to mention I'll be able to tell him what to prepare for,"

Jazz raised a brow.

"Go right ahead, Prowl," he chirped despite his suspicion. He was fairly certain Prowl was hiding something from him, but prying would just make him clamp down tighter.

Prowl didn't seem like the sort to hide things from medics but...

He sat his mech down and leaned back against the wall. "You don't mind if I wait with ya, do you?"

Just to be safe.

Despite his initial assumptions, Prowl actually seemed to relax at his suggestion.

"Not at all."

[livinginshambles]

You'll never compare to her | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: you're in a relaionship with James, but he keeps on comparing you with Lily subconsciously until he says it to your face on a drunken night.

Notes: Hi, sorry I got into a major writer's block and couldn't for the life of me find a fitting ending, because I can't forgive this easily from own experiences, but I do like happy endings cause copium. Anyway if y'all have suggestions, I'll make a part two :)

Not proofread, grammar mistakes, spelling mistakes, etc etc. ENJOY!

Masterlist

______________________________

“James, wait up!” you yelled across the courtyard, catching the attention of about everyone except James. You watched James turn the corner with Peter, an exasperated expression on your face. You looked down dejectedly but then you saw the stares of people around you. You grinned widely at them, covering up any signs of embarrassment.

“There’s just something about boys and hearing problems,” you joked with a nonchalant shrug, and the surrounding students giggled in understanding.

You hummed to yourself while you walked off. You’d give James his wand later. He probably wouldn’t need it for Potions class anyway.

Peter looked up at James in confusion. “Prongs, did you not hear her call out to you?”

James sighed. “We’ll be late for class if we stopped, you know. I mean, I love my girlfriend, but she’s just sometimes a bit oblivious, and once she starts, we’ll be stuck there,” James explained in a complaining manner.

“But you love her,” came a voice behind him. Sirius parted James and Peter to walk between the two of them. “Right?” He swung his arms across the other marauders’ shoulders.

James gave him an annoyed look. “That’s what I said, but great hearing.”

“Better than you if you couldn’t hear her calling you,” Sirius laughed, but his eyes seemed to have lost a mischievous spark. “Do you think if you keep saying you love her, you’ll actually believe it?”

James glared at him and shook of Sirius’ arm. “If there’s literally any guy I wouldn’t take advice from, it’s you, Pads.” Sirius raised his hands in surrender. “Touchy today, are you Prongs?”

You sat down on the seventh staircase, opening your book. It was a muggle book that Lily had given to you as a birthday present. You looked at the necklace that James had bought you for your birthday. You had been afraid that he’d forgotten and been so thrilled when he had shown up at 10 in the evening.

The pendant was a flower, and even though you were not a botanical expert, you were very well aware that the flower was not a romantic rose or anything typically cheesy. You had a hunch what flower it was, but had refused to look it up, knowing that you would only be hurt.

Lily took a seat next to you. “The seventh staircase? Really? What’s wrong with the third?” She asked, utterly out of breath. You laughed, “hey, you invited yourself,” you defended with a fond smile. “Besides, since this is the highest staircase, it is the only one that is always in in a downward position, and won’t tilt and go upwards.”

“I guess,” she grinned, and she scooted over to see how far along you were in your book. “Oh my goodness, you’re getting to the good part!” she squealed happily. You gave her a warning look and closed your book. “No spoilers,” you sternly told her. Lily rolled her eyes playfully and nudged you. “I would never spoil this for you.”

“Alice and Marlene invited us for Hogsmeade this afternoon,” she casually mentioned, but she fumbled with her hands, signifying that she was nervous about something.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, well James and I were going to go together, so I don’t think I can join you guys this time,” you hesitantly told her.

Lily bit her lip. “James and the rest of the marauders already told Alice that they were going to join us this afternoon,” she softly explained. There was a conflicted expression in her eyes. “He overheard Alice and me talking about it.”

You pursed your lips. “Oh,” you nodded.

“Y/N, why do you let him do this to you?” Lily decided to ask you anyway.

“I’m not letting him do anything to me,” you defended. “He forgot to mention it to me, not a big deal.”

Lily protested. “We’re literally leaving as soon as their class is over. He wouldn’t have been able to tell you, Y/N. You would’ve-“

“-been waiting for him,” you finished her sentence. You bit on your cheek in thought. “I know, Lily,” you sighed.

“Then why-“

“Because I do believe he loves me,” you quickly tried to defend him, your voice raised in volume and Lily looked down. “He’s not perfect, but no one is,” you convinced yourself, recollecting yourself. You leaned against the stair post and looked down at the other stairs that changed directions, and the panicking first year students, who still hadn’t gotten the hang of it quite yet.

“He makes me feel so loved, you know,” you sighed when you looked back at her. Lily looked at you sadly. “When he remembers you, Y/N. When he remembers he has a girlfriend.”

You didn’t know what to reply because she was right. James could be the loveliest boyfriend when he wanted to. “It’s enough for me,” you eventually replied.

“It shouldn’t have to be,” Lily pointed out, but she sighed, knowing that this was a pointless battle. But she felt the need to bring it up whenever she noticed James discard you like that. She felt guilt. Both of you knew that the girl who was most often on his mind, was Lily.

Lily had finally given James a chance in their third year after a good two and a half years of James’ advances. Having outgrown James and the marauders’ childishness and bullying, specifically after the ‘Snape incident’, she’d broken up with him only three months in, leaving him devastated. You had been his friend, mostly through Sirius and Lily, and you had found him in the common room, disheveled from crying, so you had comforted him.

Something inside James had felt a pull towards you then. A sense of comfort or familiarity no doubt reminiscent of Lily, and his mind had been set on you. Of course, you had rejected his advances for over a year, absolutely appalled by his seemingly quick recovery from his breakup. And so another year would pass.

You hadn't even seen it coming. You didn't have a romantic interest in James, until you did. All of the sudden, you found yourself in love with James Potter. Not that you would ever admit that, of course. No, you remained steadfast in your resolve to keep things platonic, as the mere idea felt like a betrayal of your friendship to Lily.

But Lily had noticed of course. You had looked away ashamedly while assuring her that you were sure that it was just a fleeting crush, something that would blow over soon. Instead of judgment, her face expressed understanding and compassion as she encouraged you to stop pushing your feelings aside, going as far as calling James over, effectively starting your relationship for you.

And now, she watched as James treated her closest friend like crap.

“How about we head down in advance,” you suggested, dusting off your Hogwarts robe.

“Yeah, about time, don’t you think?” You peered over the stairs to see Marlene with her hands on her hips in a waiting manner.

“Hey guys, what are you doing here,” you laughed as Alice dragged herself up the last few steps to stand next Marlene.

“Picking you up of course, the guys are all waiting outside.”

Your heart warmed at the thought. Of course your friends would never have left you waiting by yourself to no avail. With a fond feeling, you and your friends descended the stairs again to go to Hogsmeade.

Sirius was sitting on the ground, knees propped up while they were waiting for the girls. He twirled his wand between his fingers. “Why are we going with McKinnon and such again?”

Remus next to him shrugged his shoulders. “They invited us, I think.”

Peter shuffled his feet uncomfortable. “Alice was inviting Lily and James invited himself and us.”

James grinned widely. “I mean, how awesome is it to go in a big group?” He enthusiastically asked. It was a rhetorical question, but Remus still felt the need to respond. “That’s great and all, but I thought you were going with Y/N?”

James blinked once and then twice. He jumped up from his leaning position against the wall. “Shit.”

Sirius burst out in laughter and threw his head back, hitting his a little too hard against the wall. “Oh Prongs, you crack me up,” he shook his head. “And you say that I am the worst at being in a relationship,” he huffed. James didn’t have time for finding the humor in this situation though.

He started to pace around. He completely forgot to tell you, he realized. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to go find her,” he quickly made up his mind.

“Find who?”

James’ head whipped around to find Alice and Marlene looking at him curiously. Trailing a few steps behind them were you and Lily, engrossed in a conversation about the book you were holding.

“Your girlfriend perhaps?” Marlene tilted her head innocently, but every fool could see the warning look in her eyes. “Don’t worry, we’ve got her back.”

You and Lily finally caught up to the group. “Hey,” you awkwardly waved, relieved when Remus and Peter threw you a smile, and Sirius got up to pat you a little too hard on the back, making you stumble a little. You smacked him in return, but a friendly laugh on your face. “I will hex you Sirius,” you threatened half-heartedly.

“Not with James’ wand, you’re not,” he replied and nodded towards the wand in your pocket. You huffed. “Well I don’t need a wand, I can beat you up with my bare hands,” you joked. Sirius took a step back to scan you up and down. “Not with those arms, you’re not,” he grinned.

Something tugged inside James, and he surged forward to catch your attention. “Y/N, how was your class?”

You frowned, but before you could answer, Remus spoke up. “She didn’t have class today, Prongs,” he remarked.

You nodded in confirmation but held up your book. “I read this book instead.” James instantly recognized the book “Little Women”, one of Lily’s favorites.

“That’s a nice book,” he airily commented. Your brows shot up. “You’ve read this book?” James nodded. “Well, I listened to it, you could read it to me if you want sometime. I mean, Lily-“

“I knew you would never willingly read a book,” Sirius interrupted him suddenly. And Lily shot Sirius an appreciative look. James quickly looked away. Right. He quickly glanced at you, to see if you had noticed the way he had almost mentioned when Lily would read to him on date nights. If you had noticed anything, you didn’t seem to show it.

James offered his arm, and you tucked the book under your arm before linking the other with his. “What fine weather, do you not agree, Milady?” James exaggerated in a posh accent.

You laughed and looked up at the sky. The sky was covered in dark clouds, and it looked like it could rain any given moment. “Why the weather certainly is… weathering,” you managed with a covered grin.

You handed him his wand from earlier this morning. “And you forgot this in the library,” you added. James twirled it around and the wand disappeared up his sleeve. “Is that why you were calling out to me, darling?”

“So you heard me?”

James’ heart skipped a beat, and he racked his mind to find a suitable reply. A lie. “Well, Peter did, but we were already gone,” he managed to excuse himself. You frowned a little and looked back at Peter who couldn’t look you in the eyes and you sighed.

“You heard me,” you repeated, and your grip on his arm was loosening. He felt you letting go and quickly adjusted himself, grabbing your hand instead. “You’re right, I heard you. I’m really sorry I didn’t wait for you,” he admitted. He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

“Okay.”

When you arrived at the Three Broomsticks, James expertly pulled back a chair for you. “Just a butterbeer?” he asked. You nodded in response, but you hadn’t said much to him anymore and James frowned at the lack of your enthusiasm. When he returned with everyone’s order he sat down to your right, with Lily to your left. “Tadah,” he said, and he held up an extra package of sugar triumphantly.

“Merlin, I still can’t believe you drink butterbeer with extra sugar,” Sirius fake gagged. You kicked his leg under the table. “I just like sweet things,” you stuck out your tongue. “Besides, why are you not saying anything about Moony, he is literally crumbling pieces of chocolate in it right now.”

Sirius snapped his neck to Remus who looked up flustered. “Hey, why are you attacking me,” he complained.

James grabbed your mug and quickly sipped away the foam on top that you disliked and dumped the sugar into the mug. “There you go, on the house,” he proudly said. Your heart filled with fondness, and you appreciatively sipped from your drink.

James leaned in. “I love you,” he whispered, and he pressed a kiss to your temple, succeeding in making you flustered. “I’m in love with you too,” you mumbled back.

Gryffindor had won their first Quidditch match of the season and naturally, they threw a party in the common room. You had wanted to go when Remus and Peter had invited you, but James and piped up. “No, she doesn’t like those things. Too loud,” he confidently said, absolutely assuming.

“I like parties though?” you replied. You wanted to hang out with James and the marauders, and you were not scared of disagreeing with James. James looked at you with an unreadable expression. “Oh, well obviously you can come if you want. I just didn’t expect you to want to be among loud drunk people,” he recovered.

“What if she is one of the loud drunk people,” Sirius remarked from behind James. “Just because Li-“ James elbowed him in the stomach and Sirius groaned.

Perhaps it would have been wiser of you not to go. Maybe you should’ve been a little more like Lily, who had stayed in the dorms, snacking and reading. It sure would’ve hurt less.

“You will never compare to her.”

All you could manage was a  bitter smile. James looked defiantly at you, but his eyes seemed to find it difficult to find focus. Your throat tightened and you tried to swallow, but still couldn’t find an adequate response to James’ hurtful words.

“I know that, James,” you eventually wryly replied. Of course you knew that, despite your attempts to be a better girlfriend by being more like Lily. You cleared your throat and furiously blinked away tears that threatened to show the impact of his words.

“You should go get some sleep,” you murmured, and you tried to coax him into laying down on his bed, desperately trying to ignore the issue at hand. Perhaps if you paid it no mind, you could pass this off as nothing more than a drunken insult that you could pretend never happened.

But James doubled down.

“You will never compare to her,”  he repeated. This time he added some emphasis as well. You inhaled sharply. His words were no longer slurred, and his eyes seemed to bore right into yours. You’ve never felt so small in your life, your skin crawled uncomfortably as time passed in silence. You frowned deeply now and stared out the window behind James. What were you supposed to do with this information? It wasn’t new, but it was the first time the words had outright left his mouth.

You looked him back in his eyes. “Okay. I’m going to go and get you a glass of water for a hangover,” you slowly spoke up, trying to keep your voice calm. “Don’t forget you said this. I want you to remember that you said this because I need you to apologize for it when I get back, James.”

James groaned; his headache started to get worse. “Fine, go, but don’t come back today, I’ve had enough. And I won’t apologize tomorrow either.” James turned around a faced his back towards you. He was drifting off. “You’ll forgive me anyway, you always do. It’s the one thing you’ve got.” He mumbled. “At least you’re easier than her.”

 Your face burned in embarrassment; your eyes shifted across the room as if trying to make sure no one had heard him. How long could you hold back your tears to keep your dignity, you wondered. Would you at least make it all the way to your own dorms?

“Okay,” you resigned shakily with a nod, slowly getting up while staring at his back. “I won’t be back.”

His breaths seemed to slow down to a steady pace, and you knew he had fallen asleep. Your arms hung defeatedly next to your body and your hand tapped your leg restlessly before reaching for your wand. You murmured a spell on the glass of water on his bedside. It would help him with his hangover tomorrow, and it would be the last act of affection you would direct at him, you decided.

You closed the door behind you and quickly untucked your hair from behind your ears, letting it cover your face. The path back to your own dormitory seemed longer than usual, each step weighed down by the burden of uncertainty.

You passed Remus in a hurry, who seemed to look at you in a concerned manner. Remus turned his head to see Sirius looking worried as well.

James stared at the ceiling. Against his own wishes, he remembered yesterday evening crystal clear. He frowned as he closed his eyes and sunk deeper into his matrass.

Of course he felt bad about what he said, but you were in so many ways like Lily. From the strange muggle expressions you had picked up from her, to your mannerisms, like the way Lily laughed with a hand in front of her mouth to cover her teeth, to your handwriting. Though he knew it wasn’t fair to you, it was so easy to compare you. If anything, it was difficult not to do so. But he was sure he loved you regardless.

You never left James’ mind as he got ready to head downstairs to the great hall. He should apologize to you, James figured. He walked over to his bed and downed the glass of water on his bedside. He laughed somewhat fondly to himself when his mind cleared up immediately. You had enchanted it, he realized. So how angry could you possibly really be, this time.

Feeling rather confident, James headed towards the Great Hall. The Hogwarts Great Hall buzzed with the usual morning chatter as students filed in for breakfast.

As he scanned the room, his eyes found you sitting beside Lily at the Gryffindor table. There was something different about your smile, a subtle sadness that didn't escape James' notice. He felt a pang of guilt wash over him, knowing he was the cause of your distress.

Lily, ever perceptive, shot James a cold look before nodding toward the empty seat next to her. James approached cautiously, unsure of how to navigate the tension that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Lily," he offered gratefully, though the discomfort in the atmosphere was palpable. Lily didn’t spare him a glance and got up. “I’ll wait for you outside,” she smiled encouragingly. She clasped her hands together and nodded at you before leaving. James stared at Lily.

You cleared your throat, drawing James' attention fully to you. His heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of your determined expression.

"You look dashingly beautiful today, darling," James remarked, hoping to lighten the mood with his usual charm.

But you met his gaze head-on, your resolve unwavering. "I'm not going to be the one you settle for," you declared firmly, your words sending a chill down James' spine.

Confusion clouded James' features as he struggled to comprehend your words. "Wait, darling, come on," he pleaded, reaching out to grasp your hand gently.

You pulled away; your tone was unwavering. "I'm not joking around, James. To me, we ended yesterday," you asserted, your voice steady. James felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, realizing the gravity of the situation. That this wasn’t a joke or a call for an apology. An apology wouldn’t fix this, he realized. How could he fix this? James’ mind raced.

"Yesterday- What? If it's about what I said, I was just drunk," he protested weakly, desperation creeping into his voice.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "You literally doubled down twice, James. Well, it doesn't matter anymore, but I wanted to close this off properly. That's it," you explained, placing your knife and fork on your plate, and pushing it to the middle of the table, where it magically vanished towards the kitchen. You rose from your seat.

James reached out to stop you, his words tumbling out in a rush. "Y/N, I swear, I was drunk. And I love you," he confessed, his heart was pounding in his chest. He felt his friends look at him in pity and he understood that they had already been filled in the situation.

But your resolve remained unshaken. "Yeah, I'm sure you love a certain part of me," you muttered under your breath, forcing a smile onto your lips. "Look, we can stay friends, yeah? You're a nice guy, James. And a damn good friend too, I just don’t think you were ever ready for another relationship," you concluded.

James was stunned by your resolve, unsure of how to respond, just feeling defeat. He could see that you had closed off. Trying to maintain some dignity, he nodded in acceptance. "Okay.” He whispered quietly.

“Well then, I guess I'll see you later," you managed to say, as you awkwardly nodded, catching yourself as your hands were mid-air, ready to clasp together the same manner Lily always announced her leave. Instead, you awkwardly held two thumbs up before turning on your heels.

As you walked away from James, a whirlwind of emotions churned within you. On one hand, your heart ached with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings and heartbreak. You had been so in love with James.

On the other hand, somewhere deep down, you knew that the only way to get him to keep wanting you, was by imitating the girl he actually wanted. You had let so many things pass, not wanting to break up with James. But you’d done it. It was over. And you almost felt guilty for feeling so relieved.

Taglist: Some of the tags didn't want to work so sorry if you didn't make the list, the rest will be in a reblog

@mellowarcadefun @marauderssimpthings @tortured-artists @kazimierasm @ssc7514 @ietss @chieffanfun @narcissuspetal @jamesweather @nyrasunderwrld

@joeytribbiani18 @rafeslovergirl @peacheerries @littlenerdybee @anglfclulu @folksmione @daisydark @moonys0chocolate @fearlessmoony @vcosette

@moonyslibrary98 @poetsneil @olivshe @ihatethinkingofnames10 @petparkr @iamlizardgod @ttkttt @rosieandthethorns @eedwardss @meepmoopmopsworld

@xcinnamonmalfoyx @k0la22 @quackitysdrugdealer @lovelyteenagebeard @padf00ts-l0ver @littlemisslovestoread @queerqueenlynn @dot-erdana-blog @siimplyalea @stilesks

@daisiesformylove @lixzey @uwiuwi @jeansworld16 @v-loves-frogs @liv2post @nokkoongie @tylerstacobell @momdisappointment @jasminesacademia

[carnationworld-writings]

The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife. 

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.