#it just felt so nice to draw her from a little kid to a Grown Adult with her shit together

[lazycranberrydoodles]

tysm for the nya ninjago appreciation i was just looking at it and. mmmm scrumptious

ILY NYA NINJAGO!!!

[erospandemos]

Some things never change

NewJeans Danielle x Reader

Where Danielle tries everything in her power to make you understand her feelings

Beta-reader: @leafostuff

You had known Danielle Marsh all your life, from when she was just a little kid to now that she's a fully grown adult, although her height kind of stopped halfway. You met her in the first days of elementary school. She must have looked weak to the other kids with her two missing teeth, thin legs, and pale complex, so a group of rascals started messing with her.

They would call her all sorts of names with their limited word knowledge, mocking her with gestures and weird sounds. They'd also push her around or make her trip and fall. Even though their mind was still limited, they already had a knack for bullying.

You happened to be around her when you witnessed one of those scenes. All it took was a slap and a threat and the kids fled away. It was just a normal thing for you, as fights were very common at that age but for Danielle, you were her saviour.

"Are you okay?" you asked her worryingly.

Amidst her sniffling, Danielle managed to reply, "Those bullies were teasing me. But you made them go away, so thank you."

You felt a bit bad about her. Her eyes were so red from crying and she kept rubbing her eyelids to dry those endless tears. "Don't worry Danielle. They will never tease you again. I'll always be here for you," you reassured her, not knowing what kind of promise you were making.

What followed were days, weeks, and months of annoyance. Danielle followed you everywhere you went, pestering you from the morning to the afternoon—always talking, always joking, always asking.

"Thank you for helping me!" she told you. "Jinyoung hasn't been mean to me anymore! I love you!"

You were annoyed. You let her talk and kept walking, "He was just being an ass. It's nothing special."

She began to be your shadow, a silent companion seeking solace. A girl looking for a friend, or at least that is what you and she thought. There was already something present in her heart but you just didn't know it yet. But kids learned quickly.

It was a random day in April when she made her first move.

"My parents taught me that I should hug the ones I love. Can I hug you?" Danielle asked you, her eyes earnest and pleading.

You were caught off guard but still nodded hesitantly. You opened your arms and she stopped closer, embracing you tightly. She found comfort in your warmth and kept you there close to her. You didn't know why she did that but you liked it too.

Then a couple of months later, you were invited to her house. You and her parents got to know each other and figured it would be a good occasion for you two to bond together. At her house, there was a very nice illustrated book for children. The kind to have small but enormous sentences. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement when she brought it out from her desk to show it to you.

"It's a story about a prince who married the princess he saved. Don't you think that it's so... cool?" She said, her eyes wondering between dreams and fantasies.

"Yeah, I guess," you replied. You didn't fully grasp the implication of the tale. You just liked the drawings.

"You saved me from the bullies, just like the prince. Maybe... maybe we could get married someday?" Danielle confessed, blushing.

You chuckled nervously, still oblivious and clueless.

Things also got more complicated when she caught you talking with a girl from your class.

"Who's she?" Danielle asked, laced with jealousy.

"Oh, this is my friend from the class, Seo-yeon," you introduced her, unaware of her stern demeanor.

"Well, she better not try to steal you away from me!" she declared, pouting and crossing her arms.

You laughed nervously again, not understanding what she was trying to say, and apologized the poor Seo-yeon who was receiving the possessive gave from Danielle.

That was more than ten years ago. But now that you were both grown up, things didn't change at all.

You're reading the book you've been saving up for weeks, finally free from the exam season of college. It's been a relaxing day, as it's been the first full break you could take and you decided to just replenish your energy by doing nothing all day. The day was good outside but you didn't feel like going out at all.

But you did not know that the outside would visit you instead.

A too-familiar figure barged into your room, with a familiar voice and force. "Hey! Your mom said I could come in. Hope you don't mind," Danielle exclaims.

You look up, surprised. You have to bid goodbye to your book because there was no way she would've left the house now.

"Uh, hey. No, not at all," you say, recollecting yourself. Looking around, you could see the mess the room was left in but after all the times your friend had seen, it wasn't much of a problem. You just left it as it was.

Danielle approaches, her grin widening as she eyes the book in your hands. She lowers her head and reads your title, not because she is interested, but because it could be a potential reason to tease you.

"What fascinating world are you escaping to today?" Danielle asks you.

Before you can respond, Danielle snatches the book away, dramatically flipping through the pages, not a word passing through her eyes.

"It's a great book, you know," you say before she can judge you. But that wasn't her intention. Danielle tosses the book aside and, with a sly grin, moves closer to you.

"Boys, your age don't really stay in their house all day, shouldn't you go outside?"

You raise your eyebrow. "What are you trying to say?

She clears her throat, "Well, you know, all boys go around picking girls, shouldn't you be interested in girls too? Especially me..."

"Books are interesting enough," you say, annoyed.

Danielle sighs heavily and slaps your shoulder. "You really don't get it do you...? Whatever," she says, "But do you know what's even more interesting than books?"

Without waiting for an answer, Danielle wraps her arm around you, pulling him into an unexpected side hug. You, visibly annoyed and embarrassed, squirm from the surprise and try to claw out of her grasp. But it just gets tighter. "Danielle, seriously, what are you doing?" you stutter.

Danielle chuckles, enjoying your annoyed remarks, and lets her other arm get you too.

"Just playing with you."

You try to pull away, but Danielle persists.

"Can we not do this right now?" you say. Danielle rolls her eyes and sighs before releasing you.

"Oh, come on. Just having a bit of fun," she says, pouting.

She playfully pokes your cheek and laughs.

"This is ridiculous."

Danielle seizes the opportunity and leans closer, circling your thighs. "You know, a little embarrassment never hurt anyone," she says and eyes you up and down, locking her eyes with yours. "Besides, you're kinda cute when you're flustered."

You groan, covering your face with your hands. "Why are you doing this???"

She laughs, finally satisfied, and lets herself fall on the couch. "You know," she speaks truthfully, "there's something about you that's just too irresistible."

"Yeah, you aren't the only one."

Suddenly, you feel Danielle's intense gaze on you. "Who else is teasing you? Girls?"

"Sometimes?"

"Oh, that's not good. They have to know you're taken."

You raise an eyebrow. You don't sense anything good coming. "What are you talking about now?"

"I was thinking, maybe I should leave my scent on you. You know, like marking my territory. That way, other girls will know you're taken."

You blink repeatedly, utterly bewildered.

"Leave your scent? Danielle, we're not animals."

Danielle chuckles.

"Just imagine it – you walk into a room, and everyone's like, –Oh, they smell like Danielle. They're off the market!–"

"You've been watching too many nature documentaries."

"Shut up and come here."

Danielle snuggles closer, her energy warming the room and your body. You feel her arms quickly wrapping around your body and her legs tangling into yours and before you knew it, she was already spooning you. After all these years of doing so, she has gotten quite good at it. "You know, you really should loosen up. It's just a cuddle between old friends."

You shift uncomfortably, a bit against her although her lively insistence was stronger than your will. "Danielle, seriously, we're not kids anymore. We can't just... cuddle like this."

She tilts her head, studying you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Come on! Don't be such a grown-up. We used to do this all the time when we were kids. It's nostalgic!"

You sigh, giving in a bit. "Yeah, but things are different now."

Danielle was a slim girl, petite. She felt small although you were the one under her grasp, and her limbs were delicate and fragile. She felt small but soft as well. She was an adult now, and her touch made your heart beat faster, in a way it never did.

Danielle grins, unphased. "Different doesn't have to mean worse."

"But seriously," Danielle says with curiosity, "you used to be the one initiating these cuddle sessions. What happened to that fearless little kid?"

You blush, a rare occurrence for the reserved you. "Well, things change. People change."

Danielle's eyes soften, and she nudges you gently. You can smell her perfume and it calms you. "Change isn't always bad, you know."

You can't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm. Danielle, her head still nestled against your shoulder, can't resist the opportunity to tease you. "You know, I always thought you were the bravest little knight in our little adventures when we were young."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. "A knight, huh? I'm not sure I see the resemblance."

Danielle chuckles, tracing imaginary patterns on your arm. A soft red starts to appear on your cheek. "Oh, please! You were my protector, always ready to face imaginary dragons and monsters. What happened to that fearless warrior?"

"Well, maybe I outgrew the knight phase."

Danielle leans back, looking at you with a sly grin. "Outgrew, or maybe you're just afraid to admit that deep down, you still have a bit of that brave knight in you."

You roll your eyes, but a small smile lingers on your face.

"Did you remember when I told you I'd be your princess? I still mean it you know?" she says, as if it was nothing.

You realize the meaning of her words and can't fathom any response, and Danielle can't help but enjoy the gentle blush that colors your cheeks. She teases you further, "You're blushing, Mr. Grown-up. Who would've thought the mighty knight would be so easily flustered?"

You mumble something incoherent, avoiding her gaze.

That was typical of you and your friend: constant teasing and joking. But you knew you wanted something more from her and you were just running around, trying to avoid it. One day, however, it finally came to you, knocking at your door, and you had to face it head-on.

You hear a loud frantic knocking on your door. The sudden noise surprises you and you get slowly, weary of who might be on the other end. The knocking doesn't stop and you look into the peephole. To your surprise, it wasn't a killer coming for you but it was your friend, Danielle, and from the looks of it, with her disheveled hair and tired eyes, she wasn't looking so good. You open the door and she bursts inside your apartment, drenched from head to toe, dripping water everywhere.

"Whoa, Danielle! What happened to you?" you exclaim.

She shakes herself like a wet dog, sending droplets flying, and brushes her wet strands away from her forehead to look at you in the eyes. "Caught in a sudden downpour. I practically swam here!"

You chuckle and walk to the bathroom. "Don't move!" you tell her as you go grab some towels. You don't want her wetting the whole house as well. "Well, you certainly look like you went for a swim."

Danielle takes the towel, but instead of immediately drying off, she shoots you a mischievous grin. "You look quite excited about seeing me, don't you?"

You raise an eyebrow and look at her, confused. "What do you mean?"

Danielle pretends to inspect her soaked clothes with exaggerated concern, scanning her shirt, and her skirt. She opens her arms and invites you to look at her clothes. "Oh, no. I think these clothes might be see-through now. But I'm sure you already noticed. I can feel you glued on me."

You immediately understand what she's trying to say. You roll your eyes and grow. "Danielle, come on. Don't be ridiculous."

She smirks, wringing out her hair over the towel. "Ridiculous? Or am I just giving you a little peek? You know it's fine. I didn't tell you not to look."

You blush, trying to play it cool. "You're impossible. I'm lucky it's just the two of us. Otherwise, I might get in trouble." You hate to agree with Danielle, but it was impossible for you not to notice her figure, perfectly feminine, perfectly grown, and perfectly beautiful. You gulp loudly and stare at the wall.

Danielle giggles, sauntering over to me with a playful twirl of her wet hair. "Well, I can't let you miss out on the view, can I?" She laughs again as you shoot a quick sideeye at her. "Oh, did I catch you looking again?"

"Come on! No, I didn't."

Danielle comes closer, she's having fun, too much fun. She sways her hips, brushing your chest, leaving wet handprints on your shirt and looks at you with such a teasing smile that you couldn't do anything but blush and back intot he wall. "Oh, don't look away, baby."

"Danielle, cut it out," you stammer, my cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultrier tone. "What's the matter? Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."

You try to look away, but Danielle continues to playfully tease you. Then she laughs, finally satisfied.

"Okay, okay, I'm just messing with you!" she confesses, wiping away a tear of laughter. "I couldn't resist seeing you squirm."

You sigh in relief, but your embarrassment lingers. "You're unbelievable, Danielle."

She giggles while running away.

You go to your room to pick up some clothes for her, unfortunately you got nothing else to give her but your own clothes. You try the smallest size possible, so at least she wouldn't have to swim in them. You smell them first, to make sure, she won't be annoyed by an unwanted smell, then think if she'd feel cold or not—the house was quite warm on the inside. You knew she always liked to wear shorts, so you get a pair and a shirt and sweater to match.

You hand her the clothes, "Here, these should be more comfortable than wet clothes."

Danielle, takes them and smiles brightly. "Oh, I didn't know you were such a considerate boyfriend," she says. You start blushing but this time she's blushing too between her creased cheeks. You chuckle nervously, dismissing the comment.

"It's nothing," you say and then point the bathroom. "You've already been here before. Go change there or take a shower if you want."

"I'll just change, thank you. Don't peek at me though, okay?"

"What are you saying? Of course I won't," you reply.

She grins and runs into the bathroom to put on your outfit. It doesn't take her a while before she emerges wearing your oversized hoodie and shorts, her hair slightly toused. You have to admit, she looked adorable. The way the hoodie was way too big for her, and how the shorts let you peek at her legs, it was amazing.

It almost looked like she was your girlfriend, and she knew it too.

"Look at me, wearing your clothes," she says, raising her arms. "It's like we're in some romantic drama."

"It's just because your clothes are wet. Don't read too much into it."

Danielle continues, batting her eyelashes dramatically. She looks at you with wide eyes. "You've never offered me your clothes before. Are you sure you're not secretly seeing me as your girlfriend?"

"Don't be ridiculous. It's just clothes," you say, but her words can't leave your mind. You almost agreed.

"But these clothes smell like you," she says, taking a sniff at it. You blush brightly. "Am I stealing your scent now?"

The situation looks absurd and you're getting more and more flustered but still, you had to keep your cool. "Don't overthink it."

She bursts into laughing and jumps into the couch. "You're so cute when you deny things. Maybe I should keep wearing your clothes more often."

Trying to hide his embarrassment, you manage a weak smile. "Sure, Dani, make yourself at home."

You and Danielle keep joking around until something starts to bother your friend. She looks at the sky, more precisely at the rain, as it runs down the window, and her smile starts to fade.

Danielle turns to you and her face drops into a malinconic gaze, her eyes are half there, they're thinking about something else, but you feel the weight on you. "You know, I'm starting to feel like a fool," she says with a sigh.

You blink, taken aback by the sudden intensity in her tone. "What do you mean?"

Danielle paces the room, her agitation pouring out with every step. "You've known for ages how I feel about you. I've dropped hints, practically spelled it out, and yet you never do anything."

Bewildered, you look at her. You couldn't lie to her, you wish you could say you never realized it, but you did. You did know she was flirting with you and you did hear what she told you, clearly and explicitly. But you didn't want to accept it, you didn't want to believe it. "I... I don't realize you feel that way. I think we're just really good friends," you say and truly, you didn't think a girl like her would have any serious intentions behind her smile.

She halts, turning to face you, frustration etched on her features. "Really good friends? You and I spend hours together, we share our deepest thoughts, and I've been giving you every possible sign that I like you. How do you miss it?"

You stammer, attempting to find the right words. "I don't think... I mean, I think you're just being friendly. I never imagined you feel something more. I thought you were just messing with me."

Danielle sighs."That's the problem. You never imagine. You never consider the possibility that my feelings might extend beyond friendship. I've been dropping hints, practically shouting them, and you remain oblivious. Did it ever go through your mind?"

You run a hand through your hair, frustration mirrored in your eyes. "I never mean to hurt you, Danielle. I just... I didn't see it."

Her eyes narrow, the pent-up frustration reaching its peak. "That's precisely it. You don't see it. You never see me. It's like I've been invisible, and no matter how much I hint, you never make a move."

Danielle's words knock the air out of your lungs. You've never seen Danielle this riled up and it hurt you to know you were the cause. You take a moment to trace back your words. Have you ever imagined a life with her? Have you ever wanted to have her to yourself? Have you ever desired her?

The answer was yes. You think deeply if it was fair for you to say that only after she basically begged you to acknowledge her, but it was true, you did like her and you didn't know you were allowed to.

Danielle takes another deep breath, attempting to compose herself, but the frustration continues to spill out. "I've liked you for so long. I think you might feel the same way, but you never make a move. I've been stuck in this limbo, unsure if you even see me as more than a friend. It's driving me insane."

Your eyes soften, a mix of regret and realization settling in. "I didn't mean to make you feel invisible, Danielle. I've just been clueless, and I'm sorry if I hurt you."

She shakes her head, her frustration giving way to a sense of vulnerability. "It's not just about now. It's about all those moments before, the missed opportunities. I can't keep waiting for something that might never happen."

As Danielle's words linger in the air, a heavy silence envelops the room, punctuated only by the sound of rain tapping against the window.

"I never wanted to hurt you, Danielle," you begin. "I've been so focused on convincing myself that you couldn't possibly feel that way about me, that I never stopped to consider how you might be feeling. I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me."

Danielle's gaze softens, a mix of frustration and hurt still lingering. "You're not off the hook that easily. You can't just apologize and expect me to believe you."

You nod. "You're right. I messed up, and I can't change that. But I can be honest with you now. The truth is, I've been afraid. Afraid of ruining our friendship, afraid of facing my own feelings. It's not an excuse, just an explanation."

Danielle raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "Afraid? You?"

You chuckle wryly. "Fear doesn't always make sense. And I guess I've been scared of admitting that I like you too."

Her eyes widen, she's surprised "You do?"

You nod, your vulnerability laid bare. You hope you didn't make a mistake but you couldn't hold it in, it was now or never. "Yes, Danielle. I do. I've liked you for a while, but I never thought you could feel the same way. I convinced myself it was just a dream."

She tilts her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "So, Mr. Fearless finally admits he's not invincible."

You grin, the tension between you starting to dissipate.

Danielle steps closer, a playful glint in her eyes. As the rain outside continues its rhythmic dance, Danielle takes your hand. "No more hiding, okay? Let's figure this out together."

And for the first time, you hug her first. Your hand gently pulls her and she lets herself go, straight into your arms. You hug her softly, but with passion, with happiness. Danielle does the same, for the first time, not to tease you and not to try to make you fall in love because for once, she knows in her heart you truly love her.

THE END

Written, 16 February - 22 February 2024

[gurugirl]

The Ex | ex!harry

Summary: Harry's your ex-lover and you see him at a wedding after many years apart. You're both married but Harry proposes something that you have a hard time saying no to.

A/n: This will have a jucier, alternative ending but you'll only find it on Patreon! I consider this Tumblr version to be what happens in 'real life'. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3435

Warning: 18+ only, mentions of smut, emotional cheating, angst

You had no way of knowing he’d be there. But then again, he also had no clue that you would be there either.

You spotted one another right away. It was as if by magic something had drawn your eyes to his. He was already casting his gaze toward you, those soft green eyes taking you in as he held the hand of the woman to his right.

Your heart skipped a beat and looking at him again after all those years felt like there hadn’t been a day that aged him. He looked just as youthful and vibrant and handsome as ever. Dark curls placed carefully on top of his head in a flattering style, broad shoulders, a slender waist, and nicely fitted pants showing off what you remember being very sturdy and masculine thighs.

“Oh! Here are our seats!” Your husband, Les, spoke from your side and pulled at your hand, drawing your attention back to where it belonged.

You shook yourself of the direction your thoughts had been headed just before. What good did it do to remember how things were once upon a time? When you were young and in college, no kids or a career… things had been so different back then. And seeing your ex, the man you thought you’d marry, the one you thought would be by your side until you grew old and ugly…

“Are you okay, babe?” Les asked you with concern on his face.

“I’m fine… yeah! Just looking around and seeing a bunch of old faces. People I haven’t seen in years.”

You were at a friend’s wedding. Someone you, by some miracle, had stayed in touch with since high school. You had grown apart from Seria over the years but she still invited you to her wedding and you couldn’t imagine missing it even though you had to find an overnight sitter for your two kids and drive five hours to a different state to attend. Something told you it would be worth it.

You turned slowly to glance around the room again, your wine glass in hand and caught his eye again. The woman he was seated next to was as lovely as she was when you first met. You remembered her. She was in your senior graduating class. An acquaintance. Someone that Harry had grown close to but that you hadn’t gotten to know all that well. At first, her presence didn’t threaten you. But after you all graduated she and Harry became inseparable and he slowly began spending less time with you and more time with her. They had a lot in common, as you recall. They were both music majors, they’d write music together and play at bars in tiny scraped-together bands occasionally.

You found out on accident about how serious he was about her. No one thought you didn’t know.

You had visited a mutual friend’s apartment and stopped in for tea and a little chat. Sarah had a whiteboard hung up on her front door, facing the inside. People would write on it. Doodle pictures, scrawl their names in different colors, or just leave funny messages.

You didn’t take note of the whiteboard at first but when you sat down on Sarah’s couch you looked up at it and saw what had been written in black with red hearts all around.

harry + ginny = really good stuff

It took you a moment to let it all sink in after you saw that. You and Sarah made small talk but you couldn’t stop thinking about what was written on the whiteboard. And the hearts all around it told you it meant more than just something friendly. So you had to interrupt and ask, “Is that… my Harry?” You already knew the answer.

Sarah followed your gaze to the whiteboard and she let out a small gasp, “Oh! I forgot that was there. Are you okay about all this? I know it’s still fresh. You and Harry were together for years.”

“Am I okay about what? What’s fresh?” You began to feel yourself tremble and your heart was racing. You were suddenly having a hard time taking in any new information because it all came crashing down on you at that very moment. The reality of what was going on. You were the last to know about Harry and Ginny. He hadn’t even had the balls to break it off with you first.

You hardly remember leaving Sarah’s apartment after she told you that they’d been dating, and from what she said, rather openly. No one had bothered to talk to you about it. Everyone just assumed you knew.

Of course, you went directly to Harry’s apartment and found Ginny there already. They hadn’t been doing anything bad when you barged in. Ginny was on his couch with a notebook in hand and Harry was on the floor with a guitar in his arms.

He looked up at you from his spot on the floor and it’s like you blacked out. You can’t quite recall what was said but in the end, he wound up telling you the truth. That he’d fallen in love with Ginny and he was going to tell you soon but that he didn’t know how because he didn’t want to hurt you.

After that, you still saw Harry. He was part of your friend group and so it was inevitable that you’d run into him from time to time. After a couple of years, things were fine between you two and you’d met Les. You’d both moved on. Things had changed. And then you moved away with Les and you got pregnant, twice, and now six years later, here you were again looking at the man who once was your everything. He’d broken your heart but you were both so young and dumb back then that it was all but forgotten.

The past was the past, but you could still feel that small clench in your heart at how things had ended with Harry.

More drinks were drunk, snacks were served, and dancing commenced… the night was fun. Les was hilarious. He was an awful dancer but he insisted on taking you to the floor with him. You both laughed and swayed to the music in the crowded spot in the hall designated for dancing.

And as much fun as you were having you couldn’t stop thinking about or catching glimpses of Harry. It appeared he couldn’t get you off his mind either. It was rather flattering in a way. To have him looking at you from across the room. The subtle smiles and nods. You felt really good about keeping your distance, though. Even though at the very end of everything, you and Harry were on good terms and had been friendly, it had been so long. Too long. You felt there was no use in having a chat. Nothing good would come of it. You’d grown apart. Lives took separate paths. Old exes at a wedding had no good reason to catch up when you’d likely never see one another ever again. It was easier to stay away. Better for everyone.

Les ordered another round of whatever he’d been drinking and suddenly wasn’t feeling so hot. You both sat at your table with a couple of the other guests who were still there. Many were dropping like flies, as tends to happen at weddings. Luckily the hotel was connected to the reception hall so getting Les to your room was not that difficult.

You knew you should have stayed with him. Just called it a night and tucked in for your early morning back home to pick up your children. But against your better judgment, you decided on just one more drink.

The band was still playing, slower music than when you’d left. Most of the tables were empty as people mingled and danced slowly. You sat at the bar and searched the room for Harry. You figured he and Ginny had gone to their room, or back home depending on how far away they lived from the venue. It was nearly midnight. The band would wrap up in a half hour and that would be that.

You sighed and turned back to face the bar and sipped your last glass of wine of the night. You’d said your hellos to everyone you wanted to. Except Harry. Deep down you really did want to say hi to him but you knew better. There was something that was telling you to keep your distance and you were glad for it. Maybe it was subconscious or perhaps there were still feelings there after all this time. You knew the truth. But you weren’t ready to admit any of that to yourself.

“Hi, Sunshine.”

You felt a wave of heat and excitement thrum through your bones. It was him. He used to call you Sunshine. Sunny. Used to sing You Are My Sunshine to you every day.

You turned to see Harry taking the chair next to you at the bar, “Hi, Harry.”

You took him in. All of his handsome face. Those pink lips you used to nibble, the nose you used to smush yours into for wispy nose-tip kisses. His intense gaze was just as it had been all those years before. You wanted to reach your fingers out and stretch them over his jawline and feel the stubble on the pads of your fingers. He was so grown up. So unchanged and yet more mature. More handsome in some ways.

He drew his arm along the back of your chair and leaned in close as he spoke to you as if you two were a couple. As if nothing had ever come between you nearly 8 years prior, “You are more beautiful than I even remember, Sunny. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you at least once.”

You hadn’t expected him to let that be his leading comment. The first thing spoken to you in so long. But Harry didn’t follow conventions or rules. He never had. So it shouldn’t have surprised you that his first comment to you was how he thought about you every day. You wondered if that was true. Because there were days you thought about Harry still too. It wasn’t every single day. Some days he didn’t cross your mind at all. But of course, you did often think of him.

“I doubt that, Harry. You’re still big on flattery, I see,” you smiled shyly and peeled your eyes away from his to sip your wine.

When his thigh brushed into yours you could smell his cologne. It was different than what he wore in college. It was more grown up. Smelled expensive. Smelled more like something Harry should wear, “I wrote a song about you not too long ago. Ginny doesn’t know, but it brought back a lot of old memories.”

His voice was soft and deep and the timbre traveled from your ear down to your neck and your bare shoulder. You swallowed thickly and dared to turn to look at him again, knowing he was too close. Knowing what this would look like if anyone were to see you two.

“Where is Ginny?”

Harry’s small grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he looked down at your lips and shook his head, “In our room. She was tired. Just like I imagine Les is in yours.”

You blinked and looked away. You were flying too close to the sun, you knew it. This was dangerous territory and Harry was orchestrating something very wrong. Something you’d only regret. But you weren’t doing anything to stop it. Maybe curiosity had you sticking around. Maybe it was for old time’s sake. Or maybe it was just that you missed him and missed this and missed the way things had been.

You didn’t know how to respond but your body was on fire. Harry’s warm leg was pressed into yours and his large frame practically had you caged in. You loved it.

“Look at me, Sunshine,” he whispered as he softly touched your chin and nudged your face toward his, “There we go. Remember that time we loaded up my old Bronco and drove straight through to San Francisco? Thought we were gonna find an apartment and live like hippies in the big city and just write and paint and make music and that’s how we’d make all our money?”

You laughed and nodded, “I do. But instead, your Bronco broke down in Oakland at 3 am and we had to stay the night in the back of your car and get a tow back home.”

Harry laughed through his nose as he nodded his head, eyes still pinned to yours, “Wish it would have worked out between us. I miss all the fun we used to have. Me and you.”

You opened your mouth to respond but you were stuck. He was laying it on thick. He was never one to beat around the bush. He hadn’t changed. It was part of what drew people to him. His magnetism. His confidence.

“Don’t you miss it, Sunny?” He brushed his knuckle over your wrist and you inhaled sharply. Just the smallest touch had you spiraling. You would have to fight your way out of his trance if you intended on not allowing this to go any further.

You shook your head and looked down at your lap, “I don’t know, Harry.”

“We’d stay up all night making love until the sun came up. Miss classes. Skip out on parties we promised people we’d go to. Just in our own world all the time. It never got boring with you. For years we were like that. It’s never been like that with anyone else. All that passion we had, Sunny. My Sunshine girl. Never.”

You sighed and… yes. You did recall all that passion. And it was true. For nearly four years you and Harry were insatiable. It was like every day was your first date. Your first time. Like you were still getting to know one another after all those years. Sex had never been better. Harry was your best by far. You didn’t like to compare anyone to him but that’s only because it made you miss him. Made you miss the way you felt. Missed that lust and that passion and the vulnerability.

“I know you know what I mean,” Harry slid his hand down to your thigh discretely. No one in the room could see but you knew he was touching you in a way you hadn’t felt in so long. In a way that was only reserved for your husband. Felt that familiar, big palm spread over the expanse of your soft thigh, his thumb lightly grazing the bottom hem of your dress.

“Harry…” you breathed his name in warning.

“My Sunshine, girl,” he spoke the pet name back to you without an ounce of teasing. He was perfectly clear in what he wanted. And even though he hadn’t said it outright, there was no denying it.

“I’m married.” You reasoned weakly as you let your gaze rove his features and drop to his plush lips.

“So am I.” He squeezed your thigh and your limbs were on fire. You didn’t know how to escape the moment. You didn’t know if you wanted to. He was “the one who got away”. Even though everything hurt when it happened and he’d done you wrong, you’d long ago forgiven him and now it was just two old lovers feeling that same heat and desire they once felt. Some things from the past could be forgotten. But the way things felt between you, that constant spark, the wild lust every single day for all those years would never be forgotten.

You still dreamed about him. Would wake up hot and panting and roll over to see Les fast asleep with his face tucked into his pillow and you’d close your eyes and remember the time… Remember his voice and his hands and the way he made you feel. How free and exciting life was with Harry.

And it was all coming back to you in an insane, surreal, mind-bending rush. Everything about him was the same as it was before you graduated college. Before he fell for Ginny. Before you two grew apart and you got married and moved away. You could almost taste the skin on his hips near his laurel tattoos. Could smell the scent of his sex mixed with yours. Could hear the laughs and the moans and neighbors beating on the wall telling you to keep it down. Could feel the way you loved him once upon a time, the way he loved you so deeply it scared you. Loved you so much you never could imagine that he’d ever love another.

“You’ve lost your fucking mind,” you whispered with a grin.

He shook his head, “I’ve never been more clear-headed in my life.”

You licked your lips and closed your eyes. Every time you thought you’d wake up from the dream you felt him move against you, felt his fingers on your skin and you were continuously dropped down into your seat at the bar at your friend’s wedding with your ex at your side and his words snaking into your ears.

The only thought that kept you grounded was knowing that there was nowhere for him to take you that was private. Because that had already, obviously, crossed your mind. To have another taste. One last time just for old-time’s sake. But it seemed impossible. It seemed ridiculous to even entertain. And yet there you were.

“Remember that small room with the table and chair on the second floor of the library we used to go to? Had a lock,” Harry’s warm hand stayed on your thigh as he spoke.

You did remember that. You found a room in the 2nd-floor corridor that connected to a small hallway off the library. The hallway had four doors. They were all locked but one of them just so happened to unlock if you lifted the knob upward and jiggled it just right. The room was bare of furniture except a small wooden table pushed against the wall and a fabric swivel chair with wheels. Both of which you learned to make good use of. It wasn’t hard to find a use for random surfaces with Harry back then.

Nodding and squinting your eyes at the man you spoke, “Of course I do.”

“I want to get you alone in a room again,” he lowered his voice and leaned in so that his voice was close and the front of his shoulder was pressed into the back of yours, “Just one more time. Something just for you and me, Sunny. I miss you.”

You couldn’t believe the way he’d gotten you worked up in almost no time. The way you still reacted to him and the need crawling up your spine made you dizzy.

“There’s no place to go here, Harry. No free room. We can’t anyway… you know we can’t,” you looked at his face and held your breath. You couldn’t do this. It was wrong.

“We can find something. A hidden spot where no one will ever know.”

You looked away from his fierce gaze and down at your glass. You swallowed thickly and shook your head as you reluctantly pulled yourself from his side and stepped off the stool, “Harry. We can’t. I have kids. My husband is… I love him. I don’t love you anymore. I could never forgive myself.”

He clenched his jaw as he nodded, “No one would know.” He looked at you with pleading eyes. You could tell he knew this wasn’t going to happen.

“I would know,” you dropped some cash on the bar and looked back at Harry as you squeezed his shoulder, “But it does feel good to know that you regret replacing me with someone else even after all this time.”

As you walked away you took a deep breath and smiled to yourself. You could have said yes. Could have found yourself in some room or bathroom stall with him getting exactly what you knew he could deliver. But you didn’t regret saying no. You didn’t regret walking away from him. It felt good to have the upper hand. Something you had no idea that you’d had all along. The man who you thought you’d lost really turned out to be the man who’d lost you.

Find the other version with the alternative ending here on my Patreon!

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[summerclementine27]

Ever Since New York 💫

Summer 2038

Summary: Harry is Y/N’s family friend, in particular, her father’s best and closest friend. The two have known each other all her life, but were never close, Harry always busy with his music career and y/n always too young to hang out with the adults when he was back in London for holiday.

Inspired by: Richard and Monica from “Friends”

Ages: Harry is 44 and y/n is 21 (she was born in 2017 when Harry was 23)

Warnings: smut, age difference

- I’m not good at writing smut yet, bear with me

Wordcount: 3.9k

You've always admired Harry Styles. Not as the global superstar everyone else sees, but as the charming, intelligent man who’s been a close friend of your father for years. There's something undeniably magnetic about him, something that draws you in every time he's around.

Of course, you have known him all your life. In fact, he was there before your own grandparents at your birth, having driven your father to the hospital. However, you two didn’t always have the close knit relationship everyone – including the media – thought you did, despite what you let on to your friends when you were bragging about being family friends with THE Harry Styles. After all, it was ever so easy to show up with signed copies of his album or to get a VIP ticket to a show, no one had to know how hard it was to talk to the pop star himself.

Your parents had you young, at twenty-three, which forced them into adulthood quickly. Meanwhile, Harry was on the verge of starting his solo career, so perhaps he just didn’t understand kids very well. He was always nice to you, Y/N, but he treated you more like an acquaintance than anything else. Even when you were seventeen, outsmarting all the kids your age and listening to old music that surprised everyone, including Harry, he remained distant.

There was that one time your parents mentioned at a dinner party that you had chosen the record to spin. Harry's surprise was evident, a moment that should have felt like a victory but only solidified the distance between you. He mostly talked to you about school and his work, but only when you asked. His responses were always polite, professional, and a little distant, as if he was talking to a child, not a young woman who admired him deeply.

You remember the embarrassment vividly from the time you asked him to sign a CD for your friend's birthday. It was a last-minute gift, and while he did it graciously, it left you feeling foolish and childish, as if you were just a little girl in his eyes, not someone he could see as an equal or a friend.

It wasn't until your 19th birthday that you started feeling more. Harry had gifted you tickets to see him in New York, and the gesture left you honored and feeling special. The idea of seeing him perform in such a romantic city seemed liberating and thrilling. You could hardly believe it when you opened the envelope to find the tickets, your heart racing with excitement and a sense of being seen, truly seen, by Harry.

However, the excitement was dampened somewhat when no one else could make it to America, and you ended up going with your dad. While you loved your father dearly, traveling with him turned what could have been an exhilarating adventure into something more mundane and familiar. The trip, which had initially promised a sense of independence and glamour, now felt like a family vacation. The presence of your dad, with his protective demeanor and constant dad jokes, kind of ruined any aspect of it feeling liberating.

After the concert, which was nothing short of spectacular, the three of you had dinner at Harry's hotel. The setting was intimate, the ambiance perfect for something special. Throughout dinner, Harry kept mentioning how grown up you looked. "You really have blossomed, Y/N," he'd said more than once, his eyes lingering on you in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

Your dad, ever the workaholic, left the dinner early, needing to catch a red-eye flight to make it back to the office by midday the next day. You had extended your trip to do some touristic things in New York, planning to visit galleries and museums.

With your dad gone, the atmosphere changed subtly. You stayed a couple more hours with Harry, feeling a shift in the dynamic. He seemed to be seeing you properly for the first time—not as a kid he occasionally babysat for a few hours or an angsty teenager, but as a young woman on the brink of adulthood. There was a shyness in his demeanor, a hesitation that was both endearing and exciting.

You found yourself sitting closer to him, the conversation flowing more freely. The fleeting touches, the lingering looks, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you—it all became more pronounced. These moments, though few and far between, fueled your admiration for him, making you yearn for a deeper connection

At one point, you made a comment that unintentionally shattered the delicate mood. "You know," you said with a playful smile, "I'm as old as your song 'Sign of the Times.' I was born the day after its release."

Harry chuckled, but the mention of your age seemed to remind him of the gap between you. The mood, which had been charged with a palpable tension, shifted back to something more reserved. The fleeting touches became less frequent, the lingering looks more cautious.

Despite this, the evening left an indelible mark on you. For the first time, you felt that Harry saw you as more than just his friend’s daughter. There was a connection, a spark that hinted at something more profound, something that could grow if given the chance.

Now a university graduate, you could hardly contain your excitement as you prepared to see Harry again at the summer party your dad had planned. The weather was uncharacteristically warm for London, with the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze that made the day perfect for an outdoor gathering.

You chose your outfit carefully, wanting to make an impression. You slipped into a light, flowing sundress in a soft shade of blue that accentuated your eyes. Your hair was styled in loose waves, cascading down your shoulders, and you wore a delicate silver necklace that caught the sunlight just right. The house was decorated festively, with colorful lanterns hanging in the garden, fairy lights twinkling, and tables adorned with fresh flowers and elegant place settings.

You were standing by the door, welcoming guests, when you saw Harry's car pull up. Your heart skipped a beat as you watched him step out, looking effortlessly handsome in a white linen shirt and tailored pants. As he approached, your excitement grew, and you took a deep breath to steady yourself.

You opened the door, and there he was, standing right in front of you with that signature smile that made your knees weak. "Y/N," he greeted warmly, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. "Thank you, Harry. It's so good to see you again."

Harry stepped inside, his gaze lingering on you. "It's been too long. Congratulations on graduating, by the way. You must be thrilled."

"I am," you replied, closing the door behind him. "It's been quite a journey, but I'm excited for what's next."

He nodded, his eyes twinkling with something more than just friendliness. "Your dad's really outdone himself with this party. The place looks amazing."

You smiled, feeling a sense of pride. "He loves hosting these things. Would you like a drink?"

"Sure," he said, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "But first, do you mind showing me where the bathroom is? I could use a moment to freshen up."

Your pulse quickened at his proximity, and you gestured down the hallway. "Of course. It's just up the stairs, first door on the right."

Harry gave you a playful grin. "The bedrooms are up there too, right? Might need a quick lie-down if things get too wild."

You laughed, the suggestive undertone of his comment not lost on you. "Yes, they are. But try to behave yourself, Styles."

He winked, stepping closer so that his arm brushed yours. "No promises, Y/N."

You couldn’t believe what had just happened. Harry Styles, the man you had admired for so long, had not only complimented you but had also made a flirtatious remark that left you feeling exhilarated and... aroused. You replayed the encounter in your mind, the way his eyes had scanned your body, lingering on your neck and the curves accentuated by your dress. The way his gaze had followed you, filled with something more than just friendly interest.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, so you decided to test the waters. Spotting a group of guys chatting near the garden, you made your way over and joined their conversation, laughing and engaging in animated discussion. You kept an eye on the staircase, and sure enough, you saw Harry descending, his eyes locking onto you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

As he reached the bottom of the stairs, you noticed his gaze lingering on the group of guys you were talking to. He seemed focused, almost possessive, as he made his way over. Your heart raced with anticipation, wondering how he would react.

“Mind if I sneak you away for a moment, Y/N?” Harry asked, his voice smooth and confident as he approached the group.

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. “Sure, Harry. Excuse me, guys,” you said to the group, who all nodded understandingly.

As you and Harry walked off together, you turned to him, curiosity piqued. “Is something wrong?” you asked, searching his face for answers.

He shook his head, a playful smile on his lips. “No, you just promised me a drink, remember?”

You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. “Was that all? You could have gotten that yourself.”

“Yes, but,” he paused, his eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint, “it wouldn’t have been nearly as fun without your company.”

You felt a thrill run through you at his words, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Well, I suppose I can’t argue with that logic,” you replied, leading him toward the bar set up in the corner of the garden.

As you poured drinks, you felt the tension between you grow. Every brush of his hand against yours, every shared glance, seemed to crackle with an electric charge. You handed him his drink, your fingers lingering on his for a moment longer than necessary.

“Cheers,” Harry said, raising his glass to yours, his eyes never leaving your face.

“To what?” you asked, clinking your glass against his.

“To new beginnings,” he replied, his voice low and filled with meaning.

“Hm” you murmured “Does this mean you’re making new music”

Harry chuckled. “No, silly. It’s because you graduated and all that.”

“Well, maybe new music too,” he added with a wink.

You laughed. “So, are you finally going to make a rock album?”

“I wouldn’t be capable of that, plus no one would like it,” he said, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on,” you teased. “Remember ‘Kiwi’? ‘Only Angel’? ‘Medicine’? You’ve got the rock star in you.”

“How do you know those songs?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “They must be older than you are.”

“Just as old,” you corrected him. “And I have access to the internet. You make good music.”

“Harry,” you said softly, looking up into his eyes. “I’ve always admired you, I hope you know. Not just as a musician, but as a person.”

His eyes softened, and he smiled. “That means a lot to me, Y/N. More than you know.

You felt a surge of courage, emboldened by the intimacy of the moment. “You know, I’ve always wanted to be closer to you, but I never knew how.”

Harry’s grip on you tightened slightly, and he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. “Maybe now’s the time to change that,” he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

You thought he was talking about your recent conversations and how you’d been sharing more. “Yeah, we do talk more now, but I still get the feeling you’re holding out on me, like I’m too young to talk about certain things.”

“You’re not a little girl anymore, Y/N,” he said softly. “I see you.”

The words sent a thrill through you, and you leaned into his touch. “I see you too, Harry,” you whispered.

“I know you see me,” he said, “but I’m not sure I like how.”

You looked at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I feel like you see me as this intimidating, distant guy who’s uninterested,” he explained. “That might have been the case when I was in my 20s, but now I’m more invested in knowing more about you guys, about the family… my best friend’s daughter.”

The reminder of your situation made it a bit awkward. “Is that all?” you asked.

“And, of course, I couldn’t miss one of your dad’s famous parties,” Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course,” you said, a playful smile on your lips. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on the free food and drinks, right?”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s not just that, Y/N. There are always certain... attractions at these parties that I look forward to.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt your cheeks flush. “Oh really? And what might those be?”

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with a hint of desire. “Well, there’s usually one person who catches my eye,” he said softly, his voice like velvet.

You swallowed hard, your pulse racing. “And who might that be?”

Harry’s gaze traveled down your body, taking in every curve before meeting your eyes again. “I think you know.”

Before you could respond, a friend of your mom’s came up and told you to dance with her because all the girls were dancing to “Dancing Queen” by ABBA. You noticed Harry still looking at you as you joined the dance, but you didn’t talk to him again until later when people started to leave.

As you were fixing up the drinks station, you felt someone’s eyes on you. Turning, you found Harry leaning against the doorframe, a playful smirk on his lips.

“Having fun?” he asked, stepping into the room, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Trying to,” you replied, a little breathless from his proximity. “These parties can get a bit tedious after a while.”

“Maybe I can help with that,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a thrill of anticipation. “Oh? How do you plan to do that?”

Harry stepped closer, his gaze intense. “I have a few ideas. Care to join me for a walk? Maybe we can finish off our conversation.”

“Is there any more to say?”

“There is always more to say, especially with me and you.”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest. Then, with a small nod, you agreed. “Alright, let’s go.”

You followed Harry out of the kitchen, slipping into the shadows of the garden. The night air was cool and filled with the distant hum of the party, but you led him to a hidden corner where your dad had abandoned the project of fixing the old tree house when you left for university. This forgotten part of the garden was shrouded in darkness, a secluded haven where no one would think to venture.

The night air was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warmth of the house. The garden was beautifully lit with fairy lights, casting a soft glow over the flowers and trees. You walked in silence for a few minutes, the tension between you growing with each step.

Finally, Harry stopped near a secluded bench and turned to face you. “Y/N, I want you to know something,” he began, his voice serious.

“What is it?” you asked, your curiosity piqued.

“I’ve always seen you as a remarkable person,” he said, his eyes locking onto yours. “Not just as my friend’s daughter, but as someone truly special.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. “Thank you, Harry. That means a lot to me.”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering his courage. “But ever since New York, I’ve been seeing you in a different light. You’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman, and it’s hard for me to ignore that.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Harry…”

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I don’t want to scare you or make you uncomfortable, but I can’t pretend I don’t feel something for you.”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. “I’ve felt it too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t think you saw me that way.”

“I do,” he said firmly. “And I want to explore this, if you’re willing.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express how you felt. Instead, you leaned into him, your bodies close, the electricity between you palpable.

Harry’s hand cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin gently. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Your breath hitched, and you felt a surge of excitement mixed with nervous anticipation. “Harry, I…”

Before you could finish, his lips met yours in a soft, tentative kiss. The world seemed to stand still as you melted into his embrace, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.

The kiss deepened, growing more passionate as the minutes passed. Harry’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, and you responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” Harry confessed, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” you whispered, your heart racing.

He smiled, his eyes full of warmth and affection. “Let’s not waste any more time, then.”

Harry took your hand and led you through the garden, sneaking past the remaining guests. The soft hum of the party faded into the background as you made your way to the front of the house. Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of excitement and nervousness bubbling inside you.

Once you reached his car, Harry opened the passenger door for you. “Get in,” he said with a mischievous smile.

You slid into the seat and quickly pulled out your phone, sending a quick message to your mom. Left with Elizabeth; couldn’t find you. See you later! It wasn’t a complete lie, just a small omission of the truth. You figured you’d have to tell your parents eventually, but tonight wasn’t the night for that conversation.

Harry started the engine, and you felt a surge of adrenaline as he placed his hand on your thigh. The touch was electrifying, sending shivers up your spine. He drove with a purpose, the car moving swiftly through the London streets. The tension between you was palpable, each passing moment heightening your anticipation.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, his eyes glancing over at you, his hand giving your thigh a gentle squeeze.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat. “More than okay,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry smiled, his focus returning to the road. His hand remained on your thigh, the warmth of his touch seeping through the fabric of your dress. The city lights blurred as he navigated through the streets, the car’s speed adding to the thrill of the night.

The journey to Hampstead Heath felt both endless and too short. You were acutely aware of every turn, every stop, and go, the anticipation building with each passing second. Harry’s hand occasionally moved, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, driving you wild with desire.

When you finally arrived at his house, Harry parked the car and turned to you, his eyes dark with intent. “Ready?”

You nodded, unable to speak, your heart pounding in your chest. He leaned over and kissed you, his lips capturing yours in a moment that felt like a promise of what was to come.

He got out of the car and quickly moved to your side, opening the door for you. You stepped out, your legs feeling a bit shaky from the excitement. Harry took your hand and led you to the front door, unlocking it swiftly.

Once inside, he closed the door behind you and turned to face you, his eyes filled with desire. “Come here,” he whispered, pulling you into his arms.

You felt a surge of courage as you wrapped your arms around his neck, your body pressing against his. “Harry, I’ve wanted this for so long,” you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

“I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “Me too.”

With that, he lifted you into his arms, carrying you through the house. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched your own.

He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, gently laying you down on the bed. The room was dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that made your heart race even faster.

Harry stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at you with a gaze that was both tender and filled with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You reached for him, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. “I want you, Harry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He helped you, shedding his clothes quickly before pulling you close again. The feel of his bare skin against yours was intoxicating, every touch sending waves of heat through you.

He led you to the bedroom, the journey a blur of heated kisses and wandering hands. When you reached the bed, he gently laid you down, positioning himself above you. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he confessed, his voice a low growl.

“Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He kissed you again, his mouth trailing down your body, leaving a path of fire in its wake. His lips found your breasts, teasing your nipples until you were arching into him, desperate for more. He moved lower, his mouth worshiping your skin, until he reached the apex of your thighs.

You gasped as he spread your legs, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. His tongue flicked out, tasting you, and you cried out at the sensation. He took his time, exploring every inch of you with his mouth, driving you to the brink of madness with his skillful ministrations.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, every inch of him filling you completely. The pleasure was overwhelming, and you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he moved inside you. His rhythm was perfect, each thrust sending you higher and higher until you were both lost in a haze of ecstasy.

As you came together, the world seemed to explode around you, every sensation amplified. You held each other close, riding the waves of pleasure until they finally subsided, leaving you both breathless and sated.

Harry collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You lay there, tangled together, the afterglow of your lovemaking wrapping around you like a warm blanket. In that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that this was just the beginning of something incredible.

————————————————————————————

hope you enjoyed reading :)

[thecommunityfridge]

A Masterpiece, by Sunset @pinkducttape

CW: Diapers, Wetting, Implied Messing, Sex Work, Implied Forced Regression

You always hate it when Mommy has to leave for work, it makes the house so lame and boring! Everything just got so much better when her bosses decided to let her work from home full-time and she decided you were going to be Little permanently.

Sure, at first you'd fought it, spankings and time-outs and lots of being "convinced" to love your diapers more and more, but look how it turned out! You had the bestest Mommy, you got to sleep in every day, kids' shows were way more fun than you expected, you ate the most yummy food, you got all the toys and cuddles and squishy times you wanted, as long as you were good, and the only responsibilities you had to worry about were the pictures and videos Mommy helped you to take for your Super Special 'Puter Friends.

All that, and Mommy had helped take away all the worries and fears and anxieties and shames that had been making you so sad, so being brave and dealing with the rare day when Mommy's Big Important Job needed her to go there to help, leaving you alone, was the least you could do to be a good Little for her, right?

You ponder all this as you toddle through the house, finishing the assignments for your fans Mommy had instructed you on, changing into your skimpy maid apron partway through and finishing some chores as you worked.

Yeah, it was a pretty great life, you decide, performing your first of two allowed diaper changes, wiping yourself thoroughly clean for the camera. You should do something nice for your Mommy, something even bigger than all the hugs and kisses and perverted grown-up things you usually do to show her how much you love her.

As you gulp down a couple jars of baby food, you feel a flash of inspiration. It's been a while since you've done it, but you used to be great draw-er, it was one of the things Mommy really liked about you back when she was your girlfriend!

Quickly, you find your canvas and your finger paint and all your other colors, and set to work, determined to make something so, so amazing for the most important person in your life, something she would never, ever forget.

You work for what feels like hours, putting great thought into every line and shift in hue, stopping only to get a snack and change out of your soiled padding. It takes so long that your legs start to feel funny, probably cause you're more used to crawling or being tied up now, and your foot feels cold, probably from dropped paint, but you're really proud of this beautiful picture you made for your perfect Mommy! You just know she's going to love it.

As you start to put the final touches on it, you hear a voice.

"Little love, I'm home! Did you have a good day?"

Mommy calls as she begins walking through the house to you. You giggle, excited for her to see your masterpiece.

"Babydoll? I see you did your chores, good job sweetie, do you wa-what. Is. That. What did you do?! Where is your diaper!?!"

As her voice raises, it lifts you ever so slightly from the deep subspace you exist in most of the time, and you turn in what you now realize is a puddle of pee to look again at your painting.

A manic swirl of colors, streaks of crayon and marker around two crude stick figures, handprints and smears of paint, food, and fouler things things framing them, outlining... maybe a sky? A house? You couldn't seem to recall your artistic vision as your dominant partner's anger replaces the pride you felt just moments ago with growing fear, as you stand staring at the wall Mommy used as a backdrop for her video meetings.

She was going to be very creative about your punishment this time, that was for sure.

[honey-minded-hivemind]

🐻🐥FNAF🐰🦊 AU: Scene One

(Warning: Alludes to this au's Purple Guy/Afton attacking Reader and taking over animatronics in the past, traumatic thoughts, crying, and Reader dealing with trauma and overcoming their fears...)

• It was hard, to be back where it all started... Where it all ended...

• Marvel's MegaMall, or also called Pizzaplex... A name that while bringing so much joy to others, only sent chills down your spine. Being back in the building, just as large and grandiose as you remember, with new upgrades and attractions from when you last were here, it brings back a small twinge of nostalgia...

• You had a past with this place, from ten years ago... (clawsfireitburnsgetoffpainredHIM)... It was safe to say you had memories long buried, and that were better left to fade to dust. You'd only been back for about a month or two, having moved back into town, and since Marvel's owed you a few favors... You asked for a job. Crazy, yes... But... You had your reasons, and they couldn't exactly say no...

• The place didn't need as many human staff members, but you were able to become one of the (un)lucky few who worked for the large family-fun centered company. You were able to work mostly in the Marvelous Diner, a breakfast-and-brunch themed restaurant inside the vast mall. You had a few other jobs, such as fixing up the gift shops, making sure the central main entrance fountain worked properly, and keeping an eye out for any odd behavioured individuals. You could never be too careful about that, after all...

• And... well, you had made a friend... Her name was Laura, and she seemed rather... lonely. So you kept her company. Asked her if she wanted free food (you paid for it), buying extra tokens or passes so she could have fun, giving her small tips on how to win various games... (You noticed her clothes were worn in some places, and that she was just as jumpy as you when surprised... You felt like you could see a part of yourself in her, the part of you you tried so hard to hide)

• And she seemed to like you, too. If her sticking around awhile after eating, telling you a little bit about her day, and how well she did on various games was an indicator. She had grown on you, to be honest. Hopefully, she'd be okay... It had been years since "The Incident", but a part of you was still scared. That it wasn't over. That HE would be back. That the beings you called friends would turn on you, fingers crushinggraspingscraping- ... You had to keep an eye out, to say the least...

• You were pretty good at the jobs you did. Cooking up pancakes and eggs, making milkshakes, frying hashbrowns, making buttered grits and sweet oatmeal... rearranging plushies, dusting shelves, organizing pamphlets, setting up dress-up stations... untangling wires, screwing in light bulbs, reinstalling doorknobs... You were busy, yes, but it beat being alone with your thoughts all the time. Plus you got to see kids light up with joy and people enjoy the fruits of your labors. It was a nice feeling.

• You supposed that when you were asked to look through a few old rooms, to sort through "relics of the past", that maybe you shouldn't have asked Laura to come along. But you had said you would spend some time with her, and while looking through dusty toys and pictures and pamphlets might not be the most fun thing in the world, hopefully it would still count for something. Of course you should have known you would find a few things best left forgotten...

• It started when you uncovered a wall full of drawings. Sifting through the marker and crayon sketches and doodles, you made a guessing game up for her to figure out which scribble was which animatronic... Mistake number one, right there. Because after a few minutes, she had asked for you to look at one of the ones she found... only for you to find a drawing yellowing around the edges, with different animatronics drawn carefully on, with a little child with them... And written on the bottom of the page, a name... Your name...

• "Reader... Is this you?" It was a simple question. Easy to answer. Yet all you could manage was a small nod. "I didn't know you were here when you were a kid... Was it any different than it is now?"

• "It... it was pretty fun. Heh. I, uh- I was here, a lot. My parent had to work late, and they heard this was a good place for kids so... Yeah." It felt odd, talking about the good things you remembered... It was nice to know there was good to remember...

• "Were they your friends?" It's asked in a curious tone, with curious eyes. But you still can't help but take a moment to answer. To push down your fear.

• "Um... Yeah. We... we were. But, that was a long time ago. And some things are best left in the past," you reply, and you change the subject. You find a few old plushies, and ask Laura if she wants to keep them, only to be met with excited eyes. You're glad she can enjoy this stuff...

• Your second problem comes when she tells you she made a new friend. Well, a few. You smile and ask her if they're good to her, and she nods eagerly. Then she runs off, and you're back on your own, fixing up pancakes and frying bacon... A few minutes later, you heard loud thumping noises, followed by Laura's voice loudly saying, "They're over here!" And then, a few faces you never wanted to see again pop into the area, and you feel a shiver go down your spine. Oh no... NonoNonono...

• She tugs one of them by the hand, so much larger than her's or yours, and then your face to face (more like face to waist) with someone you used to call friend...

• "Reader, this is my new friend, Wolverine! Oh, and that's his friends Gambit and Storm! Guys, this is my friend, Reader!" You gulp, looking up at the animatronics that tower over you... You're able to offer a small wave, then back a step up. "Reader, don't be shy. I told them about the picture we found." You can't help but let out an awkward laugh.

• "Um, Laura... They've met plenty of kids, and plenty of people over the years... There's not any way of knowing if I even met them back then. It's likely just a small coincidence," you chuckle, and sidle another step back. You're having to stamp down the memories of sharpcrushingredredredironpiercingstabbingpain- ... With a small excuse, you rush back into the kitchen, your heart pounding and your eyes slightly watering. You can hear a few voices outside, until they fade away, followed by loud thumping...

• Later on in the day, when you've calmed down enough that you're only mildly shaking, you meet up with Laura again... You apologized for getting so scared, and ask her if you can tell her something... When she gives you a nod, you gently tell her that when you were little, yes, you did know them, but something bad happened to you, really bad, that involved a very bad man who hurt you, and hurt the animatronics, too... You give her a a gentle hug, and ask if she can remember to be careful when around them, at least for your sake... She nods once more... And gives you a firmer hug...

• Things seemingly go back to normal... except now you have a few more encounters with the animatronics, who act surprised to see you.. But you're pretty sure these small run-ins are more than just coincidence... Especially when they start actively seeking you out to talk, asking you if you'd like to spend some time with them, or have a small competition... Which they keep pushing each time... Until finally, you have to take a break, and go to the bathroom... You're trembling all over, tears filling your eyes, and you can't help but let out a stifled sob. You're terrified, okay? You just- it's hard. Every night, you have dreams, over and over again, of what happened. Or course you miss calling them friends, but- But dear heavens, you're f*cking traumatized from what happened that night. The scars are still there, not all of them mental... You can see smudges of where the powder has rubbed off, revealing scarred skin around your neck... It only sends you into deeper despair...

• And then you hear a knock, a loud knock, and immediately try to silence your breathing. "Are you... are you okay, kid? It's uh, it's just me... I'm one of Laura's friends..." It trails... When you don't answer, you hear then speak up again. "Look, I know you're scared... Laura said... something happened... and we wanted to make sure you were okay. Can you come out? Or do I need to come in?"

• You really don't want anyone to see you like this, but you'd rather not be in the bathroom and have one of them come in, so with reluctance, and a quick wipe of your tear-stained face, you exit... And are met with Wolverine towering over you. The moment he sees your face, he seems to soften a bit. In a careful motion, large arms are wrapped around you, pulling you into a warm embrace...

• "I think that we need to talk... Do you feel like talking, kid?" he asks, and you give a tiny nod of your head. "Okay... I... we... used to have a friend, a few years ago... They were our little buddy, and they were always playing with us... But... something really bad happened one night... Something... something hurt them... And I tried to protect them... They left, and we never heard about them again... But... Laura said that they might be you. Is it really you, kid?" He looks at you, calm and caring, and you feel small. You don't want to answer... But he'd know if you lied...

• "... yes... hi, Logan..." you whisper, and look down at your feet. You don't want to see his reaction, you don't want to see any anger or hate or-

• "Oh kid... I missed you..." The arms around you squeeze you, and you're lifted a little off the ground as you're hugged even tighter. "Where have you been? I... I thought you were dead..." You're still being held like you might disappear when you see another animatronic show up, and you feel somehow more tiny when you see it's Sabretooth... And right next to him...

• "Um... hey, Laura... can you... please ask him to put me down?" The girl sends a small smile up at you, and then she gestures to the behemoth of an animatronic next to her, who leans down so she can whisper to him... And then he goes still, and looks back at you with sharp, piercing eyes.

• "Kitten? That you?" You can only give a small, shaky nod, before you're being hugged by another large animatronic. "Where has my little cub been?! We thought you were..." He trails off, and you wonder just how many of them thought you had died after that night...

• "Well, looks like we have some catching up to do, heh, pup?" Logan says, and finally, finally you're set down next to Laura, who gives you a sly, pleased grin...

• "...You set this up, didn't you?" A giggle is your only answer... "Wait... how many of them did you tell about me?"

• "..."

• "Laura..."

• "I told all of them..."

• "Ah, nuts..." It seems you're going to be dealing with your trauma, and a lot more animatronics than you wanted to... At least you have Laura... Wait... She's friends with all of them?! Oh dear... That's going to be a lot more cuddles, isn't there?

(If The Incident happened ten years ago, at most, Reader was age 5, 6, or 7...meaning they are somewhere between ages 15-17...)

(The animatronics come in different sizes... So, let's look at it this way: the taller ones would be around 8 to 9 feet tall, right? So the shorter ones are about 6 to 7 feet tall... Laura is about 4-5 feet tall, and Reader is a few inches taller than her...)

(Yes, imagine Wolverine and Sabretooth holding Reader up like a kitten/puppy. And yes, Reader kinda looks like a kitten/puppy compared to them...)

(And here is the deal: The Marvelous Mechanations live partially in their own world, due to having programmed backstories and memories, but they see themselves as mutants (and if you add in other superheroes/villains, powered individuals), and have programming to not hurt children. Some special members (such as Reader and Laura) are logged into Marvel's system as "mutants", due to getting along so well with the animatronics, and due to the staff who remember Reader from their baby years hoping it adds an extra layer of security (plus incorporating Reader into one of the few human staff members who become a part of the attractions/shows... Now they just have to actually tell Reader about it, and get them on board with it...)

(Enjoy this au, and ask any questions you have about it or the other aus, or just the characters, if y'all want to! Have a merry day!😊💛🧡)

[astrangetorpedo]

boygenius: “This is the time we finally get to be around each other – we’re gonna enjoy it”

As they release The Record, one of the year's most anticipated and acclaimed debut albums, we meet Phoebe Bridgers, Lucy Dacus and Julien Baker in New York City to discuss their unique creative bond

by Gemma Samways

Tonight, the room is playing host to the 36th annual Tibet House US Benefit. Curated by Philip Glass – and featuring Laurie Anderson, Arooj Aftab and Bernard Sumner and Tom Chapman of New Order – the line-up reads like a particularly A-list episode of Later with… Jools Holland. It soon transpires its staging is similarly chaotic, with the event running approximately an hour behind schedule and artists often walking onstage unannounced.

boygenius are one of the few acts to enjoy a proper introduction. Added to the bill just 24 hours ago, their first public appearance in almost half a decade has prompted a frenzied, last minute scramble for seats, with $35 tickets exchanging hands for ten times that amount. A day later, in a photo studio in the East Village following our shoot at Jane’s Carousel in Brooklyn, the trio admit to having felt a little freaked out in the build-up.

“I was really emotional because I’ve been obsessed with Nina Simone’s Carnegie Hall album of late,” Lucy Dacus confides, sat on the sofa, sandwiched between her bandmates. Julien Baker nods, confessing to having been “so stressed about doing my job that I couldn’t fully absorb that I was playing alongside living legends.” Meanwhile, Phoebe Bridgers was still semi-delirious with jetlag, having recently landed back in the US from Japan.

“Look at this photo,” she laughs, extending her phone to me. Taken pre-gig, it shows her passed out on the dressing room floor while Lucy smirks in the foreground. “With full make-up, I look like I’m in an open casket. And because Julien was playing piano, I was having Julien-fuelled dreams.”

Certainly there were no visible signs of unease as they stepped out onstage to play stripped-back versions of ‘Not Strong Enough’ and ‘Cool About It’ – taken from their long-awaited debut album The Record – for the first time. And despite the all-star bill, the supergroup proved one of the night’s biggest draws, eliciting excited whoops from an audience who had greeted every other performer with respectfully restrained applause. Ultimately, once they started playing, they enjoyed the experience.

Less gratifying was the discovery that a group of particularly intrusive fans had tracked down their hotel after the show. “They were like, ‘Don’t worry, you’re safe’,” Lucy shudders. “And it’s like, ‘No, we aren’t: how’d you find out where we are? That’s stalking. Don’t do this.

Phoebe continues: “I mean, interactions with fans can be really sweet, especially when it’s a show like Carnegie Hall which might’ve been hard to get tickets to. But often there’s this weird thing where the rudest people bubble to the top, and the poor kid who just wants their record signed is too nice to ask. And so, while I’m trying to escape the fucking full-grown man who just grabbed me, I’m ignoring the sweet kid.

It’s fair to say a certain level of hysteria has surrounded boygenius ever since their formation. Five years ago they were all ascendant stars of the alternative scene, with the Tennessee-born Baker and Richmond, Virginia-raised Dacus being the most established, with two acclaimed albums each. By the end of 2018, the trio were being breathlessly billed by Vogue as “the Infinity War of female-led indie-rock outfits,” while their self-titled EP received widespread praise.

Objectively, it’s a collaboration that made – and still makes – total sense. Despite outgrowing their respective DIY scenes, they had each retained a fiercely independent outlook and an emotional authenticity, and that struck a chord with similarly principled, serotonin-starved audiences. Just as tantalisingly, interviews and social media interactions revealed that they didn’t take themselves especially seriously and seemed keen to distance themselves from the pedestal that fans were so intent on putting them on.

“It’s probably refreshing that we’re not character artists,” Lucy says when asked to summarise the appeal of boygenius. “Because ultimately we’re talking to you now how we usually talk to each other. Even when I’m doing my own [solo] stuff, I present a curated version of myself – like, I pick one aspect of my character per album to share. But with this band it’s totally artless.”

It’s not hyperbolic to suggest that The Record is one of the most anticipated albums of the year. To some degree that demand can be explained by Baker and Dacus expanding their fanbases further off the back of their 2021 solo records Little Oblivions and Home Video. But the real responsibility for the band’s reach surely lies at the feet of Bridgers, whose second album was nothing short of a cultural phenomenon.

Unanimously agreed to be one of 2020’s standout records, Punisher propelled the Pasadena-raised artist into music’s A-list, resulting in four Grammy nominations, an offer to found her own label (Saddest Factory, home to MUNA) and invites to collaborate with household names like Paul McCartney, SZA, Lorde and The 1975. Just days after our interview Phoebe is named one of Time’s 2023 Women of the Year, alongside Cate Blanchett and Megan Rapinoe. This coming May she will open for Taylor Swift in Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts and New Jersey.

Despite the difference in their public profiles, the power dynamic in boygenius appears impressively balanced. A friendship first and foremost, they’ve signed the contract by acquiring matching tattoos of a tooth and of a cluster of goblets, the latter inspired by the tarot card the three of cups.

“That’s based on the first tarot reading Julien ever got,” Lucy – the band’s resident tarot expert – recalls fondly. “We were all together and that’s the first card she pulled. Plus it’s three women partying. Friendship is the highest form of love and that felt like a sweet entry into that world.”

Having been raised in the world of evangelical Christianity, Julien was initially resistant to the idea of tarot. “When you started doing a reading, I got up and sat in the tour van by myself because I thought God was gonna steal my soul,” she explains, totally serious.

“Does God do that?!” Phoebe laughs, incredulous.

“Yes! In [the book of] Samuel! But then I was like, ‘Alright, I trust you guys. I guess you can guide me through this.’ That was a fear that you guys helped me dismantle. Because by watching you engage with it, I realised that this was a tool for self-interrogation, not for summoning the devil.”

Within the band, all decisions are made democratically and affectionate ribbings are a big part of their social currency. “Roasting each other is an act of love,” Julien reasons, to the others’ approval. “If your friends aren’t talking shit about you, I don’t think they care about you.”

With Phoebe based in Los Angeles, Lucy in Philadelphia and Julien in Memphis, they largely stay in touch via group chat and FaceTime – a support network they all clearly cherish. “I can text cold something horrible that happened to me and not feel the pressure to look at my phone for hours,” says Phoebe. “But when I do I’ll see a bunch of validation.”

Julien concurs: “It’s neat that we can confide in each other. Because sometimes my sense of imposter syndrome makes me not want to talk about how excited I am about this with friends who don’t work in music. I’m talking to them like, ‘You gotta get on a plane super early and carry all this heavy equipment, so it’s not all fun.’ And having people understand it’s a job and that I’m dedicated to it is very important. But equally, with y’all I get to be like, ‘Shit’s so fucking sick!’ Like, in this band I get to be the type of excited and thankful that lacks decorum, especially when there are so many talented people in my life where our roles could have been switched in an alternate timeline.”

The roots of boygenius were laid in 2016, when Julien and Lucy performed on the same bill in Washington, D.C., followed by Julien meeting Phoebe a month later. When a canny promoter booked all three to tour together in 2018, they decided to record a collaborative seven-inch, a creative experiment that proved so fruitful they emerged with their eponymous EP.

By all accounts, the story behind The Record is similarly stress-free. Phoebe kickstarted the creative process just a week after releasing Punisher, sending a demo of ‘Emily, I’m Sorry’ to Lucy and Julien with the words, “Can we be a band again?” From there, the floodgates opened, with all three uploading demos to a shared drive, followed by two in-person writing trips – one in Healdsburg, California in April 2021 and another in Malibu in August of the same year.

Though carefully scheduled due to their individual work commitments, Lucy describes these retreats as anything but regimented. “We didn’t intend to work that hard,” she insists. “If anything, the regimen would have included breaks and we didn’t allow ourselves those.” Julien expands, “We’d be like, ‘Okay, today is a chill day,” but then we could not stop thinking about the record. And it’s just nice to be around a bunch of people who are passionate about the exact same thing.”

After whittling down the demos from a pool of 25, the final 12 were recorded at Rick Rubin’s Shangri-La studio in January 2022, with the help of co-producer Catherine Marks (Wolf Alice, Foals, PJ Harvey). Lucy specifically cites Marks’ work with Manchester Orchestra as a motivating factor for them initially reaching out, and Phoebe enthuses about her hands-on approach. “She’s the kind of producer that immediately kicks off their shoes. Wait, I’m gonna text her and tell her we’re talking about her.” She takes a group selfie of them all grinning, flicking Vs, and hits send.

Other key contributors included engineer and producer Sarah Tudzin (Slowdive, Weyes Blood), plus Jay Som’s Melina Duterte on bass. Melina will also appear as part of Boygenius’ seven-strong touring line-up, set to be unveiled at Coachella in April. Given that their band name specifically mocks society’s tendency to unfairly exalt male creatives, the idea of boygenius assembling a largely female team for this album feels satisfyingly utopian. Today, they insist it was purely circumstantial.

“They are the best people we could think of,” says Lucy. “Some days I’m like, ten-year-old me would feel that this is very important. But also there are days where I’m like, we’re doing press right now and it’s completely uninteresting that we’re women. Why are we talking about this?”

“Plus, it’s not a given that if you work with women you’re not also working with a bunch of assholes,” Phoebe grins. “Fortunately, we picked a bunch of people who aren’t assholes.” Lucy laughs. “Women can be assholes: there’s your pull quote.”

Sonically, The Record is a much richer, more ambitious collection than anything boygenius have produced previously, taking in widescreen folk-rock (‘Not Strong Enough’) and low-slung punk (‘Satanist’, ‘$20’), campfire folk (‘Cool About It’, ‘Leonard Cohen’) and string-flecked dream-pop (‘Revolution 0’), plus a swooning a cappella piece shaped around a lush three-part harmony (‘Without You Without Them’).

Though written by Lucy, Phoebe can take full credit for unearthing the latter. “I was like, ‘I want a song that’s like ‘Blue Velvet’.’ And Lucy’s like, ‘Oh… Actually I might have a song…’ And I’m like, ‘What the fuck are you talking about?!’”

“It was a washing the dishes song.” Lucy protests, smiling. “There’s, like, this whole category of songs that I don’t show people. And I didn’t think of that as a ‘me’ song because it doesn’t sound like what I do, you know? But Phoebe was like, ‘We have to do it.’ Plus, I like that it kind of picks up where we left off with ‘Ketchum, ID’ [from their 2018 EP]. So I’m glad you made us do that.”

This process of mutual encouragement is integral to the band. They’re the first to admit they’re one another’s fiercest supporters, to the extent they accidentally plagiarise each other on a regular basis. “I totally wrote ‘Garden Song’ the other day,” Julien tells Phoebe, who cheerfully bats back. “‘Revolution 0’ is basically me ripping off ‘Good News.’”

Jokes aside, all three songwriters boast instantly recognisable styles, as demonstrated by the triumvirate of singles with which they announced The Record. ‘Emily, I’m Sorry’ is quintessential Phoebe Bridgers, a slice of folky introspection that wouldn’t sound out of place on Punisher, while ‘True Blue’ showcases the quietly anthemic indie-rock that Lucy has made her calling card. Meanwhile, the buoyant ‘$20’ sees former hardcore kid Julien leaning into her love of riffing.

With most structures initially emanating from one particular songwriter, it does beg the question, what makes a track right for the band rather than remaining a solo endeavour? According to Phoebe, she relies on a type of benign Spidey-Sense. “I always know when I’m writing a boygenius song. Even with ‘Me And My Dog’ I was like, ‘I don’t think this is a solo record song.’”

Lucy is more specific. “A lot of times I’ll write a song for us in a different frame of mind, so you can be harmonising with me and saying something that’s still true for you. I don’t want to make either of you sing lyrics that don’t resonate with you.”

“I really struggle with that,” Phoebe says. “So much of my music is directly my point of view and so specific.”

“Totally,” Lucy nods, “I feel like on a lot of your songs we’re supporting…”

“…like a chorus in a Greek play,” replies Julien, finishing Lucy’s thought. “We’re not a part of the action: we’re standing behind, commenting on or observing it. But these songs only exist because we made The Record. They’re an article of the endeavour rather than a pre-planned thing.”

Lucy takes the final word on the subject. “These aren’t solo songs that we donated to each other: we had to be together to make it.”

Lyrically, The Record treads a tightrope between deadpan humour and quiet devastation. The opening line of ‘We’re In Love’ sees Lucy resolutely opting for the latter, singing, “You could absolutely break my heart / That’s how I know that we’re in love.” ‘Leonard Cohen’ falls firmly into the former camp, delivering a frontrunner for lyric of the year in: “Leonard Cohen once said there’s a crack in everything / That’s how the light gets in / And I am not an old man having an existential crisis / In a Buddhist monastery / Writing horny poetry / But I agree.”

“I think my songs have a theme of being known and feeling present,” Lucy reflects. “Because I don’t feel that at all points in my life, I’m expressing my gratitude for that.” Phoebe sees her contributions as aspirational; evidence of the very process of self-improvement. “Each of the songs I contributed have a vibe of me trying my absolute hardest to not float ten inches above my body at all times. And you guys have helped me with that, so it makes sense that it would make the album.”

‘Not Strong Enough’ is perhaps their most collaborative song: a patchwork of ideas in which each band member takes a verse, as Julien jokes, “boyband-style”. Musically, it’s also the album’s most uplifting moment, its bright melody providing a smokescreen for lyrics exploring panic attacks and low self-esteem. When I point out the deception, Phoebe laughs. “You know the meme of the pink house and the black house next to each other, where it’s like one is the music and the other is the lyrics? That’s literally a couple miles from where we recorded our album. We’ve been talking about taking a photo in front of it for years.”

After an hour in their company, it’s not difficult to see why boygenius are inspiring such levels of adoration. A tight-knit gang of smart, talented, young songwriters, they’re the sort of band I wish had existed when I was growing up, even if I am battling to resist the urge to cast them as role models. After all, why should the men of rock be lauded for chaos while women have to be figures of unimpeachable virtue? When I mention the double standard, Lucy rolls her eyes.

“I remember when Phoebe did that Playboy article [in 2020]. People were texting me like, ‘I thought she was a role model for young girls?’ And I was like, 1. You can pose in Playboy and be a role model, and 2. When exactly did she sign up for that?”

“It is tight to me that you got texts and I did not,” Phoebe smiles. “I want to be scary. Like, as women or as queer people, we’re taught that anger is not useful and that forgiveness is the highest form of enlightenment. But I don’t think so. I think that I’ve spent a lot of my life trying to make everybody in a room feel ok when I don’t feel ok. It’s great to have boundaries. And as a band we’re all really good at protecting each other.”

Staying loyal to their DIY roots, boygenius are ultimately motivated by creating a community and enjoying the process of a shared endeavour. “Writing songs for this band is the opposite of saving your darlings for yourself,” Julien explains. “I want to bring the best possible offering to the band because it’s my favourite thing. It feels good to give the songs away.”

“Seriously, we have been looking forward to this time together for years,” says Phoebe. “This is the time we finally get to be around each other so we’re gonna enjoy it.”

(x) 4/5/23

[emperor-palpaminty]

Wrecker finds an interesting souvenir for reader on his latest adventure/mission

WRECKAH

Cid's joint was always too quiet with the batch gone. You were currently staring at your cup, slowly running your finger along the rim of it. It was a hot as hell day and dry, too- the rain had been sparse for a few weeks now, and you were really feeling it.

"You still waitin'?" Cid asked, propping a hand on the counter. You only offered a half hearted smile and nodded, examining the little bit of remaining drink.

"Yeah." A slow exhale, slow as the heat, left your lungs. "Life feels a little boring without them."

"Don't I know it." Omega swung her legs as she looked up at you. You blinked, almost having forgotten they left her behind for this mission. It was too dangerous or some such reason as that. "I miss them a lot." Omega propped her chin in her little hand.

You chuckled. You truly sympathized with her, and you gently patted her head, right where the dark roots peeked through her blonde hair. "Yeah. I do too. But that doesn't mean it's always boring, right?"

"Hunter doesn't want us leaving. And I know we shouldn't because it can be dangerous, but-" Omega dropped her forehead onto the counter, a sound of irritation leaving her throat.

You nodded. She was upset- she didn't like feeling left behind. Useless. Alone. Words could help, especially when you felt the same.

The door to the lounge slid open, perking you up. Omega remained face down on the counter.

"... Well, moping, aren't we?"

Omega's head popped up. She gasped, dark eyes lighting up as she scrambled off the bar stool. "Hunter!" She squealed, launching for him. The leader of the Batch laughed, both his hands wrapping around the child. You turned and smiled, watching the sweet scene- it was clear that his paternal affections had grown far more than any of the batch, including himself, could have anticipated. "I missed you."

"Missed ya too, kid."

You turned to your drink, taking your last sip of the drink as you heard a heavy and familiar laugh enter- you stayed with your back to the group, just to allow the little family to reunite in their own privacy for a moment.

Family was rare, in this broken galaxy.

The same footsteps came your way, and you glanced towards the source. "Wrecker, any trouble coming back?"

"Nah." He shifted on his feet, swallowing briefly and glancing back at the group. "Oh- uh, I got you something. From the mission."

You cocked a brow. "A souvenir from a bounty mission?'

Wrecker nodded, a large hand drawing into his small pouch and producing something fragmented crystal bits, you realized. They glistened against his black glove, the iridescent hues of green and blue sweet, reminiscent of an ocean or sky. "I, uh... Tech said they're special. Illum has a lot of crystals, but these made me... Reminded me of you. I mean- your-" He stammered, eyes glued to the crystal.

You chuckled and reached over, gently taking the crystal parts. "I'm touched, Wrecker."

"We did run into some... Trouble. So it broke in my pocket."

You nodded again, looking up at the trooper. His face was flushed, and his eyes were darting away from yours. "I think it's very nice, Wrecker." You grinned, squeezing his arm with your free hand. "I'll make it into something." You tilted your head back to your non-empty cup. "I like that you thought of me."

Wrecker only nodded, before Cid barked something about getting them a drink. The crystal fragments were oddly warm in your hand, and sat comfortably, a reminder that, even if things broke, that was not the end.

[dolphindive85]

We Need a Girl Chapter 5- the photo shoot

Chapter 5

Hannah could tell from Marcus’s particularly pearly whites today that he was pleased with her. She reflected a little bemusedly on the more solemn and occasionally downright scolding meetings she’d had with him before. Meetings where he’d chastised her for flipping off pervy event reps, or where it had got back to him through some little snitch that she’d point blank refused to strip naked and take polaroids with a camera man who she was supposedly meeting with to discuss an EP front cover. There had been one particularly tricky meeting where Hannah really thought Marcus was going to drop her for good. Hannah knew her temper was always a boiling pot with a shaky lid, and Marcus had warned her that another “fuck-you fest” with someone they were trying to schmooze really would be it. Luckily, he had told her, there was just too much of a gap in the market for a “song writer with pin up potential” for him to give up on her yet. She supposed she should be grateful for this, but since that comment she’d had a terrible feeling it was a matter of time before Marcus tried to get her to dress up as a sexy 50s sailor and salute the camera or something equally fucking dreadful. He reminded her a little of a shark when he smiled like this: so wide, so many teeth.

“Hannah, it sounds like you’ve been really excelling. Jeff’s been so pleased with how you’re working the camera, says you’re a natural. There’s great chemistry on set, it’s really going to draw new eyeballs to the show they hope.” 

Marcus was a businessman, and he knew he didn’t need to tell Hannah which eyeballs she was being counted on to draw. Hell, it didn’t even matter. A view was a view, and views meant more advertising, and more money. 

“Right, great. That’s great news. They want me to do more?”

Marcus shifted slightly. “Yes. The conversation around exactly what that looks like is still ongoing. But yes!” He was still treading carefully. Surely Hannah couldn’t be naive enough to think that a masculine-targeted show like this one didn’t need their female cast member to have a certain appeal. But then she’d been incredibly oblivious to opportunities in the past. Marcus felt assured that Hannah would quickly see that this was a chance too good to miss, and compromise was always part of chances in entertainment. He’d compromised keeping such a fucking liability on his books, because he knew that, with the right light and a small enough t-shirt, he could sell what Hannah had to offer.

Oblivious to the machinations of the deal, Hannah smiled at the promise of more time in the show. She did like being part of the Jackass group. They had all been nice to her. SteveO and her had been friends for a long time, and hanging out with him more was a lot of fun, if you liked bruises and weed, which, luckily, she always had. Her skating had improved loads with the help of the group. Even Bam, who she’d been tempted to write off as a spoiled big mouth after the night in the bar, had held her hands and coached her across skate ramps, long sleeves flapping and laughing like a little boy. She trusted them. It felt good to be a little kid with them, all scraped knees and giggling. Running away from grown ups and trying to find the next funniest possible thing to do. 

And Johnny. Her whole body lit up when he was on set. He was so polite to her it was almost formal. He watched like a hawk when she took part in any stunts, eyes dark and arms folded. She wanted to break his resolve and make him laugh again, and she was constantly on the look out for ways to do it. 

“SteveO are you sure you want to look loaded in these pictures?”

“Yeah dude I wanna see how big I can make my pupils go in the pictures” he replied, spraying cleaner onto a rag and breathing deeply.

Hannah watched a little doubtfully, but she didn’t want to harsh her friend’s fun. They were in the parking lot at the shoot, and Hannah’s stomach was doing backflips. She’d washed her hair and blow dried it, and it looked bouncy and fresh. Instead of the usual ‘work uniform’ she’d adopted of baggy t-shirts and cargo shorts, she’d chosen a tank top and long skirt. She felt a little self-conscious, but she tentatively trusted the others enough now to try something different for this special occasion. 

She linked Steveo’s arm and dragged him inside, where the rest of the boys were waiting. There was a cooler of beers on the floor, and Johnny, Dave, Ryan and Bam were sat with open bottles. They looked up when they saw them come in. “Oh hey nice of you to decide to join us!” called out Bam. “Sorry dude I had some very important errand to run.” said SteveO, sniffing in a way that Hannah thought was a bit obvious. “Oh yeah sure thing SteveO” laughed Johnny. Hannah reached out and playfully messed up Bam’s carefully coiffed hair, and he swatted her hand away. “You’re dressed like a girl today Hannah” Bam teased. “Careful, Jeff and Knoxville will remember they’re too chivalrous to let you have any fun.”

“No one was feeling chivalrous enough to wait for us before you cracked into the beers though?”

“Hey, it’s 9am somewhere” deadpanned Ryan, and tossed her and SteveO a bottle each. 

Hannah looked round for a bottle opener. Noticing, Johnny stood up. “Aw fuck off Bam, just cause you don’t mind making a girl cry doesn’t mean we’re all a bunch of brutes.”

He opened Hannah’s beer and handed to her, smiling. “Here ya go doll, and I think you look real nice.” Hannah grinned and knocked back a mouthful of beer. “I mean I know how much everyone likes my animal t-shirts so I can get changed back if you think that’s more the vibe we’re going for.”

As she’d predicted, there was a groan as her animal t-shirts were denounced by the group at large.

“Those fucking t-shirts man-“

“Fucking birds staring at me while I’m trying to work-“

“Those t-shirts have autism man I swear, a wolf howling at the moon, or a giraffe head and a tree. Where do you even buy a t-shirt like that in this day and age.”

“They are a waste of a killer rack man, makes you look 12 years old.” Ryan shook his head, disgusted. 

Sipping her beer and smiling at the barrage of criticism that her t-shirts tended to elicit, Hannah thought that for such a straight group they could sure bring the claws out when it came to fashion. 

Jeff approached, with who Hannah assumed was the photographer. He was tall, with a thin moustache and side burns. Hannah would guess he was 40, 45 perhaps. He was also, she noticed with a sinking sensation, staring right at her chest. His eyes didn’t so much linger as laser focus on to them. The worst thing was Hannah actually liked her boobs, or at  least she had done. Back home she’d got them out with ease, but in this town it felt like they entered the room 10 steps ahead of her, creating their own first impression. The rest of her arrived unwelcome and un-greeted behind them. About a month into life in LA, she’d taken to covering them up and pressing them down whenever she could. Apart from today, when she’d felt at ease enough to get dressed like she wasn’t attempting to smuggle out contraband. Clearly this had been a huge mistake. She folded her arms and moved her hair to the front, like that would make any fucking difference. 

The shoot started and Hannah tried to relax. They snapped pictures of the group. They tried to one up each other looking for the silliest thing to do in the next photo: Dave England dropped his trousers. Bam jumped into Ryan’s arms, Johnny kicked Ryan in the nuts. SteveO ricocheted around it all like a pinball. Laughing, Hannah joined in, encouraging Ryan to put his hand out and let her stand one legged in his grip before promptly toppling down. The camera flashed, catching the fall and the group collapsing under Hannah’s weight. 

Groaning on the floor, the group took a moment to get back to their feet. As they righted themselves, Hannah could see Jeff, Marcus and the camera man conferring, gesturing towards her and nodding.

“Right we want to try something different.”

“Boys, take 5. Then we’re gonna split into groups for photos. Hannah, we want you to try this on.”

“What is it?” Asked Hannah doubtfully.

Jeff looked a little shifty, and held up a white bikini. It had skull and crossbones symbols over the tits and across the butt it said ‘Jackass’. 

The men around her broke into laughter.

“Oh man good luck with that.” Said Bam, doubling over. “You gonna try and fit cargo shorts under those bikini bottoms Hannah?”

“Aw fuck dude that is so awesome, that’s gonna be a smokeshow on you Hannah. That’s hot!” SteveO babbled, draping himself over Hannah’s shoulder and talking fast.

Johnny clapped his hands together, throwing his head back to laugh. “That’s a Jackass branded bikini? Aw hell I didn’t even know we made those. We all gotta get one.”

Still laughing, the boys and Jeff walked to the cooler and helped themselves to another beer while Hannah’s costume change went ahead. 

Hannah stood holding the scrap of fabric in her hands, her knuckles white. She stared down at it feeling unable to move. What the fuck was she going to do?

“Marcus I don’t feel…comfortable with this. I would really rather not wear that.” She spoke quietly, a hush that she hoped wouldn’t bring the attention of the rest of the crew. Hannah looked imploringly at Marcus, trying to convey with her eyes the words she wanted to infer without having the shame of saying out loud: help me! Do something!

Marcus sighed.

“Hannah, like I said, this is a big opportunity. I don’t think you should assume you’ve got the kind of influence here as to get away with seeming difficult to work with.” 

Hannah flinched. “Fucking hell Marcus you’re supposed to represent me. If I wear this that’s it, I’m just… just eye candy here” she hissed, but apparently not quietly enough. People were starting to look. Johnny and Bam were glancing over from the beer cooler, and the photographer approached her and Marcus. He’d clearly assessed the issue and interjected breezily. 

“Honestly, sweetie, your face isn’t going to sell this magazine, but those are.” he gestured vaguely to her breasts. “So come on, let’s get our jobs done, alright?”

Feeling her face flush red, Hannah sucked in a breath. “Fucking hell.” and marched away. 

In the dressing room, Hannah put on the bikini. It barely covered her boobs, the white fabric and string leaving very little to guesswork. She hadn’t shaved, and the string tie bottoms sat high up on her legs. Hannah browsed the rack of clothing in the room and pulled on a pair of denim shorts. She presumed pubes weren’t something this group was ready for. She appraised herself in the mirror. “Fuck this fuck this fuck this” Hannah whispered, pressing the palms of her hands to her eyes. She took a deep breath. Do not be a fucking baby Hannah thought to herself. This photoshoot was meant to be a special moment. So what if she was wearing a bikini. SteveO was shirtless! This was fine. Obviously SteveO was also very obviously pinging out of his mind, and his body was different. It was a bit, a canvas for a joke. She hesitated, and opened the door to head back out, desperately hoping that the drama of the last 10 minutes had gone over her costar’s heads. 

The studio was cold and she felt her skin goose pimple as she stepped back out of the dressing room. The feedback was instant.

“Aww no way what’s with the shorts? I wanted to see the branding on the ass.” Dave called out from where he was sat by the beer cooler.

“Yeah well you fucking wear them then.” Hannah snapped back. Her insides felt jagged and hot. 

“Jeez” said Dave, holding up his hands in a mock surrender that indicated to everyone he didn’t know why she was being such a bitch. 

“Hannah you look so good dude, oh my god” SteveO approached her, hands outstretched, but was intercepted by Johnny. “O-K SteveO let’s get you onto liquids instead of gases.” he said, putting his hand firmly on Steve’s shoulder.

“OK fantastic Hannah we’re ready to go. Bam and Ryan and Dave, you’re gonna to a set together. And SteveO, Hannah, Johnny you’re gonna do a group shot. Then we might do some individuals.”Jeff directed.

The three of them stood together in front of the camera. 

“You OK?” Johnny asked her in an undertone.

“Yep, all fine.” she said, avoiding his eye. 

Marcus and Jeff stood by the monitor. 

The photographer seemed to have realised SteveO was beyond direction, and so focussed his instructions on Hannah and Johnny.

“Johnny, put on your shades. Yep, now twist left. OK, take a sip of your beer.That’s it, great.”

Johnny was so at ease in front of the camera. Even with her bikini on, Hannah was sure Johnny would be what drew everyone’s eye. 

“OK now a little closer together.” said the photographer, gesturing for Hannah to move in towards Johnny.

By now SteveO was on the floor and Jeff stepped in. “SteveO, come with me, let’s get you a coffee or something.”

The photographer breezed past the exit of one of his subjects.

“And turn to the side Hannah, face Knoxville, right up next to him, that’s it”

Hannah was now stood with her boobs pressed against Johnny, his arm loosely round her. 

“OK now put your arm up, around his neck.” Hannah draped her arm around Johnny, 

“Now bite his ear.”

“Excuse me?” 

“Johnny, put your hand on her ass.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows and looked at Hannah, “You mind?” he asked.

“Um, no, I don’t mind.”

She felt him place his hand gently on her. His hand was big, and it cupped her ass cheek easily. She felt his hand squeeze slightly and relax. She looked up at him and met his eyes behind his sunglasses.

The camera  flashed.

“OK fantastic. Now Hannah turn to me. That’s it. Now lean a little forward, little more…”

Hannah’s adrenaline was turning to annoyance as the photographer attempted to contort her to show as much chest as possible.

“OK now arch your back, open your mouth…”

“Why don’t I just deep throat the fucking microphone, is that more what you had in mind?” she snapped. Johnny let out a loud laugh, doubling over with his hands on his knees. The click of the camera paused as what she’d said settled. 

“I’m so sorry,” began Marcus, leaping into action, but Johnny waved him away.

“All creative input is welcome on set, no bad ideas in brainstorming.” he wheezed, reaching out and ruffling Hannah’s hair. “You’re funny.”

The camera man smiled his thin lipped smile. “Let’s do some individuals.”

Hannah went first. She felt sure that the camera man had become more aggressive in his clicking since her outburst. Jeff had come back, leaving SteveO to sleep it off in the changing room, and he tossed her a beer as he passed by. “Hey, shotgun this!” he called, and Hannah obliged, happy to show off her skills. The camera clicked and flashed as she knocked back the beer, reaching to wipe her mouth triumphantly afterwards. Ryan and Johnny applauded and whooped from their camping chairs, both waiting to be called up for more photos. “OK, now let’s lose the bikini top.”

Hannah let out a shocked laugh. The fucking nerve of this guy. She reached behind her back as if to undo her bikini strings, and instead pulled out a middle finger, and flipped off the camera. 

[ohwynne]

TIMING: Pre-18 july PARTIES: Beau @mayihaveyournameplease & Wynne @ohwynne LOCATION: The BMV SUMMARY: Wynne wants to apply for a driver's license. Beau wants their name. Neither get what they want. CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A ACCOMPANIED SONG: drivers license, Olivia Rodrigo

Between their experience with driving on the estate, the lessons with Sully and the few moments where Ariadne had let them drive her car, Wynne felt that they might be ready to apply for whatever was necessary to get a license. In this world outside of the confines of the commune, cars seemed to be quite crucial for getting around. And though they didn’t have the money saved up for a car just yet, it would be nice to at least legally drive.

The bureaucratic ways of the world befuddled them though. They’d walked up to the first clerk they’d seen, then been told they needed to draw a number. After doing that and waiting for a short amount of time that seemed endlessly long, Wynne walked up to a different clerk. “Hi, good afternoon, I hope you’re having a good day,” they said, trying not to fiddle with the fabric of their skirt. “I’d like to … well, get a license. I read that I need to do some tests? I don’t know exactly. But I am ready!” Hopefully exuding confidence during this part wasn’t part of the tests. Wynne smiled and suppressed the urge to give a thumbs up to punctuate their statement.

It was another day at the BMV. The office, as usual, was an appealing scent of stale air from an air conditioner that needed its filter clean, mixed with the b.o. of multiple people who never learned how to take care of themselves, mingling with the strong perfumes of those who did their best to cover up every appalling scent. It was the scent of devastation at the BMV. It was the scent Beau had grown to love and become so fond of. The man who he’d been helping, shrouded in a veil of confusion, had to be escorted away by security when he got angry about forgetting his name. It was truly odd how those things only seemed to happen to Beau.

A pretty, young thing, with large innocent eyes was the next to walk up to his station. Beau looked down at her, his tightly pulled smile barely concealing the contempt behind his eyes. “It’s always a gouda day at the BMV, darling.” Beau stared down the child as they explained what they were here for, and what they needed. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. Have you filled out the prerequisite forms?” Beau asked, he ducked under his death, a task easy to do when he stepped off his stepping stool. After a minute of collecting material, Beau dropped three clipboards in front of the kid. “This one is an identity confirmation, this one is your application for a license, I assume you brought your birth certificate and social security number with you right? And this last one is a waiver for all the tests. How old are you? Sixteen? Where is your parent?”

They had driven a car on the commune, though not often and not much. There was little use for it, most of the time, but it was still something they’d been taught. First the tractor, for the fields, and then the old cars that hummed as the motor rotated. There had been no paperwork for it, though — the community was small enough to know who was okay to drive and who wasn’t, and the government was distrusted anyway. But there had been some paperwork, and the bits that had been there Wynne had stolen along with the paper money. A piece of paper that proved they existed outside the commune as well. Sometimes they wondered if their mother had ensured its existence, because of her own history in the larger world, but that seemed like wistful thinking.

“That’s good to hear,” they said, smiling a little at the silly pun. Their cheeks flushed as the employee pretty much told them to slow down, eyes growing wide at the clipboards dropped in front of them. Wynne just wanted to drive a car without getting in trouble, why was it so much work? “I’ve not. I didn’t know I had to. Can I do it now?” At his question they nodded, patting their tote bag. “I have the certificate right here. And my parents, they’re all the way back home. I’m twenty one, though, so I don’t need a parent present, right?” That would be very unfortunate. Wynne picked up one of the clipboards, then glanced up. “Where do I start?”

Half of working at the BMV was putting on a production. The clients needed to see a show. Beau lowered half-moon spectacles over his eyes. He reached for the paperwork splayed in front of him and made a show of picking it up and reading it over. He wasn’t actually reading any of it. If Beau had his way, this little thing would be sent away without a name. Hopefully confused about everything that had happened here. “Alright.” Beau chewed the word, drawing it out into a line longer than the one at the BMV. “Everything here looks like it’s in order.” Beau placed the paperwork down at his desk and started furiously typing at his computer. Clickity clickity clack.

“Ahem. Yes, a few things before we continue. I need to make sure you are who you say you are. So, I’m going to need you to confirm some of the details while you’re not looking. Can you give me your name please?” Beau quirked an eyebrow, his knees practically quivering in anticipation. His mouth went dry with the wait. This was his favorite moment at his job. The wait. Then hopefully the reward. Inside his mind was a constant single monologue. Give me the name. Give me the name. Give me the name. 

The sheer amount of paperwork was dizzying to Wynne, who dwelled from a place where there was hardly any. Maybe it was good that these things were put in ink, though — black on white, rather than kept safe in the head of a man with all the power. When the employee said all was in order, they smiled a little. “So I just have to do a test? Or?” It was still hard to grasp, even if he’d tried his best to explain.

And then there was that question, slipped in so innocuously. Maybe it was nothing but innocent, but Wynne had been hyper-aware of their language and that of others since losing their name and then something else. “Um, my name is on that piece of paper I gave you, right?” They tried to smile politely, the same way they did when customers got mad at them for reasons beyond their control. Keeping composure was something they had learned as a child destined for death. You can’t show your fear Wynne, because everyone is looking at you for reassurance. “I don’t want to give it.” It was theirs. It was one of the few things that was theirs. 

“You still have to answer your security questions. To confirm its you. Before you take the test.” Beau moved the papers even closer, staring down at them. Wynne. That name seemed familiar. Hadn’t he stolen the name Wynne from some kid online? The kid had traded what was possibly the worst secret he’d ever heard for it. He should have honestly just kept the name. That made Beau want the name more. But then the kid was telling him that he couldn’t have the name. Like the kid knew the game. Beau glared down at them, shuffling the papers in his hand to make sure they stayed out of reach.

“That isn’t how this works. I read the paperwork. I ask you questions. You answer the questions. I confirm its you. This is where it starts. Give me your name so we can start this process.” Beau was sure to use his adult voice, the voice that was sharp edges and harsh tones. The voice he used when he wasn’t a silly little guy. Inside him he could feel the familiar anger toiling inside. It told him that this little know it all, this little nothing, would lose. And he would be so happy about it. 

That did seem fair. That there was some level of security. Maybe not just everyone should be able to drive. Wynne looked at the man working the desk with a very serious look on their face. “I get that,” they said, not wanting to fight him on the procedure he probably had to follow. They also didn’t want to give him their name. And maybe it was nothing, maybe this was just an employee who picked his words a certain way but they could never be too sure.

“I’ll gladly help you along to confirm it’s me, I just don’t want to give my name.” There was a small tremor to their voice, as Wynne was still not that good at standing up to adults. Especially those that were capable of speaking with authority. They fiddled with their own fingers, rocked back and forth on their feet. “So maybe we can go about it another way? Would that be okay?”

A challenge. Beau was tired of challenges in this town. Beau wasn’t as young as he used to be. The world was full of many names, and many people to trick, and he was tired of them starting to get wise. Sure, this was probably the Wynne he’d stolen from before. This was probably the Wynne who had wised up thanks to his own efforts, but they could still be considerate. They could still hand it over. Beau coughed, rolling his shoulders back and bracing himself for an argument. 

“Listen, kid, this is a basic question. You need to confirm who you are. You can’t just refuse to say your name.” Beau dropped the papers on his desk, making sure they were all straightened. “You have to give me your name, or you have to leave. There is no inbetween. You give me your name, I confirm it's you, we move on. You get your licenses. You don’t give me your name, you walk away and we’re done here. Any questions? That’s just procedure. That’s basic. You have a job right? Didn’t they make you give them your name?” Beau peered over his glasses again. “What is your choice?”  

They felt their breath hitch in their throat, a pathetic response that was hardwired in their pathetic system. Wynne had always been so obedient, hadn't they? And every moment where they had questioned authority had been met with something like this. Condescension. A question of their intelligence, a reminder that they knew nothing than those older and wiser than them. But someone older and wiser than them had told them to not give their name, and they opted to listen to Emilio instead.

"I wouldn't mind saying my name," they said slowly and hesitantly, "I just don't want to give it. You could ask the question differently. Most people do." They doubted themself, wondered if they were acting on fear rather than rationality. His insistence only confused them — was he insistent because Wynne was being ridiculous? Or because he was going to take their name, like that person online? "Can't you ask me differently? Like… What's your name? What are you called? Then we could follow procedure." 

Beau gave out a long and laborious sigh. With the slowness of a tortoise who’d lived longer than the humans around him, he slipped the glasses onto his head. His hands rubbed against his face, as if this was the most tedious and difficult conversation he had ever had in his life. Finally, after about three minutes of making the disrespectful youth in front of him, watch him make a production of being so tired of their shit, he let the glasses fall back to his nose. “Look around you.” Beau swept a hand like he was Mufasa and Wynne was Simba. But instead of telling them everything the light touches was theirs, he said “Do you see how many people there are in here? They are all waiting their turn. The longer you hold up this line, the longer they have to wait for you inconveniencing them.” 

“If you don’t stop whatever little fit this is,” Beau splayed a hand out, circling it around their direction, “And let me get my job done, those fine people are going to have to keep waiting. They are watching you know.” It didn’t help that Beau’s large and over exaggerated hand movements were an attention getter. “So here’s how it's going to go. I’m going to say name, you’re going to give me your name, then we’re going to move on. Okay? I am asking normally. I don’t ask my questions weirdly.” It was obvious this kid had been versed in keeping things from fae. Probably because of their last encounter. “Name?”

It was hard to remain steadfast and stand by what they said now. Wynne was looking at the other with wide eyes, wondering what methods he’d move onto if they refused to listen. There were rules here, in this world, that were supposed to keep people from acting the way some of the elders had back at home — but sometimes they forgot that when faced with people with authority. All they could do was become very still and quiet, watching every inch of movement on the other, taking in every word. Before they knew it, there were tears burning in their eyes and an apology on their tongue.

But this wasn’t home. This wasn’t Padrig, towering over them when they’d been fourteen and asked too many questions. They blinked and some of those stupid tears leaked out. Padrig called them ugly words in the back of their mind. “I think I’ll just go and come back another day,” they said. “And let you help the other people.” They could say more. They could be brave and tell this person that they were being mean, but Wynne wasn’t sure if that was the case or if they were overreacting. It sure felt like the latter right now. “Good day to you.” With that, they turned around, beelining towards the exit without looking over their shoulder.

Beau watched as tears began to leak from their eyes and they turned their back on him and walked away. Beau let himself sit there in pleased silence until he saw the door shut behind him. Then he let out a chorus of pleased laughter. God! How funny was that! They fucking cried. Hilarious. They had truly learned their lessons when it came to giving away their name, but they were still a weak willed loser. They would never amount to anything. Beau knew that because they couldn’t even come up with an interesting secret to share. Three thousand dollars? Like that was even a substantial sum to brag about. Good riddance. Beau pressed a button on his computer, and the number changed. Time to do it all again.

[chenanigans]

2023 Accomplishments, 2024 Hopes

I did a lot of stuff this year, so I'm gonna talk about stuff I'm happy about accomplishing this year!

Art

I made the most money ever for commissions! Almost $900 I hope to make more next year!

I finished quite a few comics as well as Cherry's first journal! Comics have always been quite difficult for me to finish, so I'm proud of being able to do a handful of them!

I got to be a featured artist in an app! That was a pretty cool experience getting to test out and draw in an app! Also getting paid to do so!

Next year, I would like to try an improve on some things with my art, finish more art, and maybe get another art job!

-----

TTRPGS

I played a LOT of DnD this year.

In my Monday game, we're closely approaching our 100th sessions and possibly the end of our first campaign! I love Cherry so much and I hope she gets through it all with the Flockless! This is the longest campaign I've ever been in and the highest level I've grown to as well. Cherry went from level 3-13 so far, how my baby has grown! We also got to play some Kids on Bikes and Pathfinder 2e which was very fun! I hope to do more games after we finish campaign 1!

With my Tuesday group, I got to make so many fun characters and also try some new TTRPGs too! I'm excited for all the fun little things we'll get to do next year! I love Manon and hope we figure out the nature of this world.

I hope to finally run something next year for my friends next year, but we'll see how it goes!

-----

Video Games

I played a fuck ton of games this year. I got really into simulation games because I find them relaxing and nice.

The games I beat this year:

Garden in!

Paradise Marsh

Flying Neko Delivery

Unpacking

Lumbearjack

Terra Nil

Alba A Wildlife Adventure

Mail Time

Katamari Damacy Reroll

We Love Katamari Reroll

Frog Detective 3

Sticky Business

Pikmin 4

Garden Buddies

Pizza Tower

Loddlenauts

Moonstone Island

Frogsong

Kirby's Return to Dreamland Deluxe

I'm excited for a fuckton of indie games coming out next year and for the Paper Mario the Thousand Year Door remake. I need to beat the original before it comes out but we'll see how that goes.

My favourite games this year were Pikmin 4, Pizza Tower, Loddlenauts and Moonstone Island for sure!

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Life

No major changes happened in my life this year. I'm hoping next year I have more luck in finding an art job, but overall, I'm pretty ok with where I am.Working at a grocery store will always suck, but I'm at least making enough money to buy things I like and help my family out a bit.

I went to my first Pride parade this year. When I was sitting at the subway waiting for my friends to arrive I almost cried because seeing the sheer amount of queer people around was just heart-warming and made me feel like it was all gonna be ok. I got my first ace flags, one of which is on my desk near Rawhide. I also got handed a paper for black queer people which was a lil funny. I also got a lot of compliments on my outfit which felt very good.

Mental health wise, it's also been very ok. I'm hoping to get more support in terms of my ADHD meds since I've been on the same dosage for a while and things could be better.

-----

Lastly...

This is a lil sappy, but I wanna say thanks to all my friends and my sister for making this life worth living. I haven't been in a depressive rut in a long time because of those I love, the things I love, and the things I'm looking forward to. Life for me isn't always rainbows and sunshine, but I'm always happy about the small things that make it worthwhile. I'm looking forward to making and sharing more art with my friends, playing video games and TTRPGs, and just doing what I enjoy in life!

[supermacaquecool]

Fic meme; 2, 4, 33, 35

2 answered here.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Not sure how many.

I'm trying to write two things right now, might come to another two after I'm done.

From the first lot:

A) Ryo and Saki are skipping class, so it's just another of those fics mostly about people talking. I think I mostly wanted to write about why one becomes a truant, since I was an incorregible one during my schooling lol

Ryo actually lets out a small chuckle, but the text looks dry as hell. He wonders if he should send a sticker to convey it actually amused him. Geez, somehow texting is even more awkward than talking face to face sometimes. He wonders if Saki is actually in class and her teacher isn't there yet or if she's playing hooky like him. It'd be nice to talk to someone instead of just doom scrolling all day. He's no master at subtlety, and there doesn't seem to be any way to naturally stretch the conversation, so…

'cani call?'

The checkmark fades and is replaced by the read notification. It's been interesting to see which of his friends have the feature disabled. He wishes it'd be the kind of thing you can bring up in conversation without sounding totally bonkers.

'why? miss me that much?'

B) Since Aoi and Shuuji were the poll winners, I was gonna draw something for them, but then my cat bit my finger really hard lol So instead I'm writing them planning an outing for the group, but they get silly about it. Overachievers™ and all. (But I got almost nothing done for this one 🙈)

Might come back to:

I) Been toying for a while about the idea of exploring how Minoru's and Aoi's ideals might intersect. I wrote the first snippet months ago and finally thought up a scenario for the second snippet. Here's a preview of that second snippet.

Aoi is dead silent, frowning. Her face hovers over his, with that of him laying down and her patching up the cut on his brow. It's not often you get to see someone's nostrils from below. Minoru opens his mouth but decides against it last second. No, a hole joke isn't gonna fly with her. Even him can be considerate sometimes. Still, the seriousness is killing his vibe…

II) Wrote a Miu fic I'm agonizing about. I feel I need to adjust the narration to fit her pov better, so I need to revise it once I feel more comfortable with doing so. It's a girl incommunication fic lol (I also feel that it puts in evidence which was my fav scene from The Haunting of hill house). My friend said Aoi is very annoying in this passage, which pleased me greatly.

Aoi's eyes widened.

"You were listening."

Ugh. Busted. Miu shrinked, burying her jaw in the collar of her hoodie. "Only a little.

Aoi stared at her, sitting upright. "It's wrong to eavesdrop on people, you do know that, don't you?"

"Yeees,"Miu drawled. Well, that was it. She was talking to Miu like a little kid. She wouldn't answer any of her questions. Miu hated grown-ups because of this.

"Have you brushed your teeth?" Aoi asked next, as if to prove her point.

"Yeah," Miu lied by reflex.

Aoi smiled—she smiled a real smile. Miu could tell because her whole face changed.

"I know it's hard for you, so it's great you're making the effort."

Syakomon sighed and her shell closed. Miu wished she could that. Lying to Aoi was the worst; now, Miu felt guilty. Now, she'd actually have to do it, even though it was the grossest thing in the world.

Plus other things. I'm still thinking I'm gonna finish the multi-chapters/series I got there lol I also got another document about moments with Aoi and Saki, I wanted to fuse Simple Dreams to it, but I ended up not figuring out how to tie them together in an over aching theme... So I'll just go back to it and finish the whole scenario and post it separately, prolly. Ah, I keep remembering some other things. Like writing some pseudo horror stuff with Saki and Shuuji's first day in kemonogami world, and Plutomon, ofc (I was thinking writing something loosely inspired by The Telletale Heart...) These will take me way longer to get to because I have never written horror 😂😭

33. How do you feel about crack?

Never done it.

(Not particularly fond of it, but I don't really care enough to think much of it.)

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Not really entertaining such idea atm since I mostly care about small interactions, and, also, the canon already kills charas for me lol But I'm more likely to want to injure the charas or make them go missing than outright killing someone. If I think of a scenario where someone dying would feel interesting, I would do it (I do like symbolic deaths a lot, but again, that's already canon in Survive lol).

[forever-rogue]

obi-wan requests are open i see 👀

i do love the idea of obi-wan coming to rescue so i was hoping to request a similar premise where the reader is a princess and they bond over the journey getting back to her home and it gets a bit angsty parting ways bc they've grown attached to each other. it's up to you how to end it if you want a nice ending or leave us in shambles i trust ur work 👀

AN | I don’t know why you trust me, when you definitely shouldn’t 😏 Just kidding! Or am I? Decide for yourself, I suppose. I’ve decided to set this before RotS because I want my boy to be happy!🥰 Enjoy!

Pairing | Obi-Wan x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2.5k

Masterlist | Main, Star Wars

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

You weren’t even sure how long you’d been traveling with him at this point. It had been…an interesting journey to say the least, but not nearly as interesting as your travel companion was. When you’d been informed that a Jedi would be sent to accompany you back to your home on Gatalenta, you were sure it would be either one of the younger, more bright eyed Jedi that didn’t quite know what they were doing just yet or one of the older and more wary ones. Your little security detail had fallen somewhere right in the middle in the form of a Jedi that was much too handsome and much too wise for his own good.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was nothing short of mysterious. 

He was always polite, from the moment he’d meet you, if not a bit formal. When he’d first shaken your hand, calling you princess (something that made you feel warm and flush way more than it should have), you insisted he call you by your name. After all, if you were going to be stuck with him for an indeterminate amount of time, you might as well get to know each other. Right? Right. At least that’s what you told yourself as you looked into those soft blue eyes. His presence really shouldn’t have made you that happy and yet…it felt like there was something drawing you into him. 

You decided then and there as you followed him onto the transport ship that you were going to solve the enigma that he was.

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

“Obi-Wan?” you stuck your head out of the ship’s door to see if you could spot him. You knew he’d left at some point, something about getting out for some fresh air, but hadn’t heard him back. It wasn’t that you were exactly worried about him but…you were worried about him. With a small huff when you didn’t see him, you moved to head down the ramp to see if you could spot him, “Obi?”

Nothing but the soft whistle of the wind in the trees reached your ears. Silly man. You figured that there was nothing wrong with going out and stretching your own legs for a bit. You’d be back before he even noticed you were gone. There was a meadow of wildflowers you had noticed when you’d first landed here to rest before finishing up your journey. You weren’t particularly keen on ending it any way; the idea that you would be devoid of Obi-Wan’s presence was not a concept you particularly liked. You’d grown closer to him than you had imagined you would and while part of you was sure it wasn’t a good idea in the long run, you found that you really didn’t care. 

You cast a last look back at the ship before walking in the direction of the sweet smell from the field of flowers. 

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

There were so many wonderful, beautiful, different flowers all growingly wildly around the meadow. You walked through their natural paths, letting your fingertips skim over the blooms and blossoms. It was peaceful here - quiet. There was almost no noise besides that of the native wildlife and fauna and your own soft breaths. It was a sharp contrast to the city life you’d grown up in. 

A little creature found you eventually; you weren’t sure what it was but it looked to be something between a loth cat and a koriena. It was cute and had come up to you for pets, rubbing against your legs and purring happily. After giving it a few good scratches, it followed you around as you studied all the different flowers. There were so many colorful flowers, but you naturally gravitated towards the hues of pinks and purples in various soft, pastels. 

“Come on,” you motioned for your new little friend to follow as you started to gently pick the flowers, “I don’t know if you can really help me with picking these, but I’ll be glad for your company.”

You were met with a few happy chirps as it bounced around you as you gathered up all the flowers you needed. When you were satisfied with the bundle in your arms, you plopped on some of the soft looking ground. You reached for the first flowers and linked them together, “has anyone ever made you a flower crown before? I doubt it, huh? Well, today’s your lucky day!”

You worked on weaving the flowers together for some time, first making a smaller one for the small critter before making another. It was nice to be there by yourself, to enjoy the stillness and nature rather than running from one thing to the next. Part of you never wanted to leave; part of you would have been content to stay forever, along with Obi-Wan. 

“Princess!” you almost jumped when you heard the sound of his voice. You looked up and found him standing at the edge of the meadow, hands on his hips, “where have you been?”

You stood up and quickly bounded over to him, the critter right behind you, fresh crown clutched tightly in your hands, “Obi-Wan!”

“I’ve been looking for you all over,” the look of exasperation slowly melted into a much softer expression, “you shouldn’t just go wandering off like that - something could have happened.”

“Oh? And about yourself, hmm?” you raised an eyebrow, gently nudging him with your elbow, “I believe a certain Jedi went out by himself this morning. I did look for you, Obi-Wan, but when I saw you were gone, I just took a little stroll.”

“I had intended on returning before you were even aware I was gone,” he admitted, a flush of pink rising in his cheeks, “for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for worrying you, Princess.”

“Consider yourself forgiven,” you lightly rocked back and forth on your heels for a moment before holding up your little creation, “here - I made this. For you.”

“For me?” he asked quietly as you reached up and set it on the top of his head. You bit the inside of your cheek and hoped that you hadn’t overstepped any boundaries. Your relationship with him had gone from purely professional to what you would consider a friendship, and now…you weren’t quite sure what to label it. You knew, you’d always known, that it could never be more than a friendship, and yet…your feelings had appeared not to cooperate or listen to the logical reasoning of your mind, “whatever for?”

“No reason,” you beamed from ear to ear as you pointed towards your new friend, “I made one for him too. I don’t know exactly what he is but he’s been hanging with me and is very sweet.”

“Very cute,” he agreed, “thank you for this. It’s lovely.”

“It was nothing,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, despite your best efforts to avoid touching him, “it was just so nice out here and the flowers are beautiful. I couldn’t stay away.”

“I should have known,” he laughed lightly and oh. That beautiful sound made your knees feel weak, “you would manage to find a beautiful place, one to rival your own beauty.”

You swore your heart stopped as soon as you processed what he had said. No…surely you had heard him incorrectly. There was no way that he had said that. Nothing would prompt him to say that. You tried to calm your racing mind, well aware of the fact that he was way more in tune with them than the average person. You decided to ignore his comment, as much as you didn’t want to, since you weren’t absolutely positive about what he said. 

“Come on,” you took a step back, motioning for him to follow you back to the ship, “we should get back. I suppose there’s no time to lose.”

He had a small sound in the back of his throat as he trailed behind you. The little creature fell into step with him, chirping and purring happily, “what about your new friend?”

“Oh,” you turned around and he gave you an almost pleading little look, “would you like to come with us?”

He appeared to nod before he ran over to you, rubbing against your legs. You reached down to pet his head, reluctant to just let him go. 

“Obi-Wan,” you looked at him with a saccharine little smile and he knew he was in trouble, “can we take him with us? Pretty please? I promise he won’t get into any trouble.”

“And just how do you know that?” he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at you with an amused expression.

“I can just…feel it,” you insisted, “I can bring him back home, no one will notice. To be fair, no one really notices me. I’m just there, which is totally one of the reasons I’m okay with never going back…”

“Unfortunately that’s not an option,” he sighed as he studied the ground for a moment before nodding, “alright, he can come with us.”

“Thank you, Obi-Wan,” you worried your bottom lip before continuing on your little walk back, “you’re wonderful.”

── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

A few more days passed and the end of your time together was looming closer with each passing second. What you wouldn’t give for something to go horribly wrong so you would have a reason to stay with him. You’d spent a lot of time in your private quarters, attempting to quash the last right of feelings you had for him. It hadn’t worked - if anything it had only made your feelings worse. You’d analyzed and thought over almost every interaction you’d had with him, trying to pinpoint when it had all gone downhill. 

That’s when you came to the conclusion that it had probably been the moment he had first spoken your name. Then it turned into all the small, lingering touches, the silly little jokes you shared with only each other, the whispered late night conversations, the looks that spoke volumes. Oh. You had it bad for him; but you shouldn't have. He wasn’t someone you could fall in love with. He wasn’t someone you should ever have had feelings for. You know the Jedi were not allowed to have relationships or families. He was probably the last person in the galaxy you should have loved. And on top of that, it wasn’t like he was just going to reciprocate those feelings. He wasn’t going to just change his life for you or leave the order. It would be ridiculous to even consider the notion that he would, that he would find you someone worthy of his time.

By the time the moment to part ways had come, you were overwhelmed with a wave of emotions. Your bags were packed and sitting by the door, waiting to be taken inside to the small palace where you lived. It didn’t feel like home in the slightest anymore. 

“It feels strange,” you were looking out into the city, watching people bustling about their days, “to be back to the place that is my home and have it feel like anything but home.”

“Unfortunately there are often things we don’t have control over,” Obi-Wan was at your side, his arm brushing against yours. You were practically vibrating with energy from his touch, “but we must do them nonetheless.”

“What if we don’t do them?” you sighed wistfully, not daring to look over at him, “what if we decide that sometimes we have to make our own destinies?”

Obi-Wan was silent for a few moments, thoughtfully running a hand through his hair. He wondered what you would think if you could hear his thoughts. If you heard them would you run away and never look back? He’d spent his time with you, finding his own feelings growing, unsure of how to handle them. Everything he’d been taught since he was a mere boy was being challenged. He’d felt something change from the moment he’d met you, and now he was left trying to figure out what to do. 

“I wish I had the answer for that,” he whispered as he turned to look at you. It made his heart break to see the upset expression on your face. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, the corners of your mouth tugged down in a deep frown, “but I’m afraid I don’t have all the answers.”

“I wish you did too,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “I don’t want to go back.”

“I…I don’t want you to go back either,” he admitted softly and you felt warmth flush your face. He wasn’t looking at you now; he knew if he did wouldn’t be able to let you go, “but you must.”

“I’ll miss you,” you sniffled before dabbing at your eyes, “you’ve been…wonderful. I can’t ever thank you enough for your help and keeping me safe. It’s nice to know I have a friend out there in the galaxy.”

You heard your name being called from outside and your heart stopped into your stomach. You hung your head before slowly moving toward the doors. Everything already felt so wrong. 

“Princess,” he reached for your hand, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist. You let out a startled little gasp before he pulled back toward him. He studied for a moment before his hands found your face, “I am…I am sorry. I wish…it were different. In any other lifetime it would be.”

“I know,” you offered him the best smile you could muster up before a few tears pearled up and ran down your cheek. Obi-Wan gently brushed them away with his thumb, “goodbye, Obi-Wan. I hope our paths cross again someday.”

And then he leaned in and kissed you; it was a gentle, soft little thing, almost as saracchine as he was. You pulled back and rested your forehead against his, “I will see you again. I swear it.”

This time, the call of our name was more annoyed and insistent. You put your hands on his before gently pulling them away, giving them a gentle squeeze before dropping them. 

“Goodbye, Princess,” he felt choked up as he watched you go. He was half tempted to run after you and do something but his feet were rooted to the floor. Once you were off and immediately got pulled in one direction, you turned around to offer him a final little wave. He didn’t have it in his heart to return it. 

He turned around and closed the doors to the ship before sighing heavily. Just like that, he felt as though a cloud was hanging over his head. Just like that he wondered if he had made the biggest mistake of his life. 

But he would never know. He would just have to accept what was and return to his duties. Just like the good general and Jedi he was.

[freementallyillkid]

Jinx x Caitlyn’s younger sister

(not my gif)

( This is in an AU where no one dies because I said so) +TW: Mylo makes one inappropriate joke ig

Word count:1,858

You remember the day Vander took you in. You got into a bad fight with your parents and ran out the front door, Caitlyn tried to stop you, but you were young and upset. Soon you got lost and found yourself at the bridge between Piltover and The Lanes though it was covered in blood and the dead people were fighting everywhere.

Tears streamed down your face as you looked at the horrifying sight before you instantly regretting leaving your house. Hudling against one of the pillars trying to hide from everything when a tall strong looking man with two other kids attached to him all three of them looked ruffed up and dirty. He looked you over taking note of your fancy clothes, “What are you doing here little one?”

Sniffling, you explain, “I got into a fight with my parents and ran away…”

He looks down at you with sad eyes, “So ya want me to take ya back?”

Shaking you head vigorously, “No, please”

He sighs and appears to be thinking about something glancing at the two other kids. A girl that looked about your age with blue hair resting on his hip and an older girl that looked about Caitlyn’s age with pink hair holding the man's hand both of them looking at you. “How would you like to come home with me and these two?” Think about it for a moment if you didn’t go with this man then you would have nowhere to go and you didn’t want to go home, so you nod and stand up.

He smiled, “Alright I’m Vander this is Vi,” He points to the pink hair girl, “and this is Powder.” The blue haired girl gives you a little wave which you return.

“I’m Y/n”

“Nice to meet ya Y/n can you take Vi’s hand then we can go home?” He asks. Nodding again you take Vi’s hand and the four of you start walking into the Lanes.

Time skip (3 months)

You were sitting on the couch next to Powder your head resting on her shoulder while she drew and Mylo who you met shortly after arriving along with Claggor was telling you about the latest ‘job’ they went on. Claggor was cleaning his goggles and Vi was sitting in a chair watching Powder with a slight smile.

In the few months that you’ve been living in the lanes you’ve grown close to everyone, but especially Powder most likely because you were so close in age, but also because she was so nice and she liked showing you her inventions and drawings.

Powder nugged your arm pointing at her drawing. It was a picture of everyone, but you took notice that you and Powder were the only ones holding hands, “Hey N/n the storys not over yet.” Mylo said, making you lookup.

“Sorry Mylo.” You said nodding for him to continue smiling for a different reason, your face feeling a bit hot as well. From the corner of your eye you could see Vi and Claggor chuckle silently sharing a look.

Time skip 6 years (you and Powder are like 18-19)

You ran next to Powder on top of buildings hand in hand on your way to some rich person's house Ekko tailed for you the Kiramman you think. You knew you used to live in this area, but you blocked it out of your of your mind or that’s what Vander thinks the only thing you can remember is a vague idea of your parents and a clear image if your older sister Caitlyn sometimes you think you trying to find them, but you always decided against it if they still wanted you they would have looked for you.

Shaking your head to clear your mind now was not the time to dwell on the past. You looked up when you felt a hand ghost over your arm, “You okay toots?” Powder asked with a worried look on her face.

“Yeah I’m fine Pow just thinking.” She nodded very unconvinced, caressing your face lightly before swinging down onto one of the bedroom’s balconies, you had a job to get done, you reminded yourself and followed her in.

After some (tottaly amazing) lock picking you were in and started looking for things. Powder went over to the closet and curiosity getting the better of you and went to look at a dresser covered in pictures and items almost like a shrine. Picking up one of the pictures you almost imeditlhy drop in a small crashing sound follows and your hands start to shake as you look at the picture now on the ground.

Powder quickly appeared at your side, “Hey are you okay?” a hand on both arms. Picking up the picture you hand it to Powder. She takes it looking from it to you a few times. The picture showed a younger you standing next to your sister dressed up like you were going somewhere. Powder set it down looking at all the other pictures were of you and your old family.

Powder and you were brought out of your shock when you heard footsteps outside the door. “Caitlyn dear, are you sure you heard something?” An older worm asked with a posh accent.

“Yes I’m sure. There was a crash then footsteps.” An agitated younger woman responded with an equally posh accent. Normally you would be out the door and runnig away by now, but you were both frozen in place Powder still holding the picture you dropped.

The large fancy doors swung open revelinge a tall well built woman with a gun in hand followed by a stricked older woman and a kindred eyed older man bith with streaks in their hair. The five of you started at eachother in shock the tall lady moved first dropping the gun and rushing to you pullig you into a tight hug.

“Y/n is it really you? please tell me it is.” She pleaded, pulling back, so she could get a better look at my face cradling it in her hands.

Almost in a trance I nodded and quietly whispered, “Caitlyn?”

“Mhm yeah it's me.” She said rubbing her thumb over your cheek, her eyes brimming with tears. You didn’t even relize you were crying till the older man that you now recognize as your father whipped a tear away pulling you into another hug with your mother.

Who mumbled into your hair, “I’m so sorry for yelling at you darling I never should have. We looked for you for so long, but the enfourcers said you were dead when they traced you back to the bridge, so we hired a private investigator, but they said the same thing and your sister became an enfoucer-” She was cut off by your Dad.

“We’re so sorry.” He kissed your forehead and pulled away, “where were you the whole time?”

You made an O shape with your mouth, your eyes darting over to Powder who stood stifly to the side. “That’s a long conversation.” You said sniffling, reaching for her hand which she quickly took.

Now you were sitting in a parlar area with teas and pain cookies explaining what happened sense that night. Powder standing behind you fidling with the collar of your shirt. When you were done your mom leaned forward from her chair and put a hand on your knee, “It’s okay now you’re home.” At those words Powder perked up.

“What you’re not leavin are you?” She asked gripping your shirt looking down at you biting her lip worriedly.

“No, of course not Pow.” You reausered her, putting a hand over her’s.

“What?” Your mom asked confused, “why would you want to stay ther-”

She was cut off with harsh, “Mother!” From Caitlyn who looked at her with a stern face clearly this was a common argument. Looking to Powder she gave her an apologetic smile, Powder just looked at her with suspicion.

“You’re not taking Y/n,” She said sternly, glaring at all of them.

For the first time in a while your dad spoke up, “We don’t want to take her from you or your family, but we also want to be part of her life. Tomorrow you and your family can come over and we can talk about it?” He suggested.

Slowly she nodded in agreement.

Thirty minutes and several hugs later Powder and you were walkig home when she stopped on the last building we walked on before going to The Lanes. “Hey you're not gonna leave us are you?” She asked face flush nervously looking away tuggign on her hair.

Quickly taking her hands you say, “Of course not, why would you ask?”

“Well ya know they’re super rich and your real family.” She said, still looking away.

I laugh quietly, putting a hand on her cheek forcing her to look at me.”It doesn’t matter that they’re rich though it is nice,” that comment makes her chuckle, “ you, Vander, Vi, Claggor and Mylo are just as much my family.” I tried to reassure her again, but she huffs and looks away again. “Hey what is it?” I ask.

She bites her lip again before saying “I don’t want you to see me as your family…” I raised a brow in confusion and she huffs again. “I don’t want you to see me as family cause I-” she struggled to find her words before muttering something under her breath and grabbing both sides of your face and crashing her lips against hers.

For a second you were frozen in place before kissing her back, placing both hands in her hips to pull her closer. Powder moves one of her hands to cradle the back of your head and the other one to the base of your neck after a minute we had to break away for air.

Breathing semi heavily presing your foreheads together. “Cause I like you.” She said, smirking.

“Oh really?” You asked, smirking back at her.

“Yeah really.” She answered.

“Never would’ve guessed.” You tease tucking some hair behind her ear.

Hitting your arm lightly, “shut up asshole. Let's go home.” She grumbled taking your hand and started walking again.

Time skip (1 month)

You were laying in bed cuddling with Powder, her hair resting head on your chest fiddling with her hair as she traced random shapes all over your body when there was a loud knock on the door and Vander shouted through the door, “Come on love birds we have to go or we’ll be late to meet Y/n’s parents.” We both shot out of bed getting ready forgetting today was our bi weekly ‘family’ night.

“Yeah hurry up and make sure to have all your clothes on!” Mylo calls shortly after followed by an, “Ow! okay I'm sorry Vi.” and Claggor laughing at him.

Powder smirked and grabbed your hand pulling you out the door.

[random-fandoms-fanfics]

Can I request a male reader bonding with isabela luisa and mirabel? (And can he be in a poly relationship with julieta and agustin)

:)

“Mi Mariposa, where are you?”

“Up here Papa!” looking up you saw the young girl standing behind the rails, covered in dirt and plant life, “there you are, papa has been searching for you forever,” jogging up the stair you rushed over to the small girl, lifting her up into your arms and carrying her to the nursery, “what did you get into this time, a beehive?”

“No it was a tree that had fallen over, and it had these like bumpy plate things on them and I wanted to see what they were but I tripped and broke some off, so I grabbed some and now it’s on my shelf,”

“Mariposa you grabbed mushrooms, again, stop bringing mushrooms home you have enough,” sitting her down in front of the vanity, you plucked the items from her hair while looking at the collection of plants on the vanity and surrounding shelves, “but they’re so pretty, I can’t help it,”

“I know but you have too many, we’ll talk about this later but for now we have to get you cleaned up, your abuela wants you to look decent in front of her friends,” she blew a raspberry before reaching into her draws, pulling out a comb and handing it to you, “I know but your Abuela loves you, she just wants to show you off," after pulling out the last big twig you combed the piece of wood through her hair, watching small bits of dirt fall out of her hair "hey once her little party is over we’ll get papi and drag him into the forest and have a little adventure,” braiding her into two and tossing them over her shoulders chuckling at her bouncing “oh yes please, can we search for the glowing mushrooms?”

“As long as you don’t take anything, we can do anything you want my fairy,”

“Mariposa, can I have a word with you?” Stepping into the flowered covered room you made your way over to Isabela’s bed, looking all around the room to try and find her, “Mariposa? Are you here?”

“Yes papa I’m coming,” the young woman walked over to you, wearing a beautifully pink dress, the shoulder straps covered in flowers and slowly fading out as it went further down the fabric, you couldn’t help but frown at her hands as they scrambled around her body, constantly trying to fix, “did you need something?”

“Well me and your papi are going on a walk in the forest and we wanted to know if you wanna come, I know this little cave filled with glowing fungi,”

“Sorry papa I’m actually going on a date, Abuela set it up and she says he’s a really nice guy so wanna give it a try,”

“Oh ok, are you free any other time, I really miss our walks?”

“Ah no I got a lot going on and I just don’t have to time to go on silly little walks, I’m sorry,” your smile dropped for a second before being replaced by a forced smile, “no it’s fine, you’re nearly a grown woman and you should be able to do what you want, have fun on your date my fairy,” smiling she wrapped her arms around your chest, the gentle smell of moss radiating off her “I will, I love you papa”

“I love you too,”

Closing the door behind you, you felt a hand grab your shoulder, it turning you to face the loveable man dressed in blue, “what happened to my little girl who loved playing in the trees and exploring every nook of the forest,” holding your face Agustin brushed the tears that hung in your eyes, “she grew up and changed, every kid does it,”

“Not this drastically, she loved mushrooms, the bark off trees, moss, dried sap, pretty leaves and funky rocks, and she liked me brushing her hair, I can’t remember the last time she sat in my lap to get her hair done,”

“As you said she’s nearly a woman, sometimes they get too big for mama and papa,”

“Guess that’s why it hurts,”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —— — — — — — — —

Lifting a crate filled with chopped logs up into your arms you gave Agustin a kiss on the cheek, telling him to be careful as you left for the houses that ordered wood.

“Thank you (Y/N),”

“No problem senoria,” picking your box back up you continued your job, reaching the open pathway you began humming something as you walked down the cobblestone path, soon picking up on the pitter patter of small feet next to you. Looking besides you saw your youngest with three logs in her arms and a determined look on her face, “what are you doing love?”

“Helping,” you watched her struggle with the logs, not only with just holding them up but she kept dropping them, at first one but then she would drop another as she tried to pick up the one that was already on the ground. Once she got all three logs back into her arms she would scramble back up next to you, her little legs moving unreasonably fast to just catch up to you, after the third time this happened you stepped in, reaching over to grab the logs from her, “poor thing you can barely carry them, let papa help,”

“I got it,” she pulled the logs away from your grasp, almost falling over as she moved away from you, “Luisa you can’t over work yourself like that,” picking up two logs from her arms you added them in your pile causing her to pout, “don’t worry, the stronger you get the more I’ll let you can carry,”

“Promise,”

“Of course, I’ll need a lot of help in a few years and getting it from my little cariño would be the best,” you started out serious but your tone quickly turned babyish, her whining and running ahead of you.

— — — — — — — — — — —

“You good papa?” Luisa appeared besides you, a crate filled with wood in her arms and a brow cocked, “yep, just struggling a bit,” jumbling the logs in the crate held in your arms Luisa worryingly looked down at you, reaching over to you and into the crate, “here let me help,” Luisa grabbed a few logs from you, chucking them into her crate, sighing in relief you smiled up at your second eldest before letting your head hang and whispering to yourself, “god I’m getting weak,”

“You know I have a few exercises that could help,” chuckling at her you looked down into your box, frowning at the small amount of logs, “while I love you sencerness cariño I doubt it will help, you can’t lift age away,”

“Oh, well at least you can still do it,”

“Not for long, your mama is getting more serious about me not lifting any more, so she limited my arepa allowance, I only have three left for my back, after that Julieta won’t give me anymore,” leaning back you heard your spine crack, “I’ll actually have to deal with back problems if I don’t start lifting better,” she patted your back, her hand resting on your shoulder blade, “I could teach you some lifting methods, so we can keep delivering wood together,”

“That would actually be really nice, thank you mi dulce niña,”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

You walked into the nursery with a plate of food and a smile but it instantly dropped, as the only one you saw in there was Camilo playing with a couple of wooden toy men, “oi camaleón, where are my girls?” he shrugged before going back to his toys, placing the plate down on Mirabel’s desk you left the nursery. Standing there you looked around Casita from your position, seeing a little face watching you from around a corner, “oi what do you think you’re doing?” stomping over to her you watched as she was pulled away, making it around the corner you saw the floorboards moving underneath her, “Casita give me back my daughter,” running after the giggling girl you tried scooping her up into your arms but every time Casita would either pull you back or jerk Maribel away.

Just as you were about to grab her Casita jerked Maribel away again but this time Casita did it too hard, tossing her over the balcony with you going right after her, pulling her against her chest and rolling over onto your back, you expected to fall flat on your back but you were caught by Casita, it safely sliding you down onto the ground. Panting you stared into the sky, feeling the small girl wiggling against your chest, she appeared above you giggling in your face, “papa!” her hands pressed up against your face, grabbed at the hair on your face, frowning you lifted the girl up over your head, “you little menace stop doing that,”

“But it’s fun,”

“Getting tossed off the railing isn’t fun it’s dangerous, do it again and I’ll telling your mama,” she gasped in shock she pointlessly kicked at you, “you wouldn’t,”

“I would,” getting up you carried her back to the nursery as she tried hitting your face, “meanny, we’re just playing,”

“You don’t play games that include people throwing you, just play some safer games with Casita please,” reaching the nursery you sat her down next to Camilo, the young boy handing her one of her toys, grabbing the food that was now picked at you sat on the ground next to Mirabel, passing her the plate as you sat with the two.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Knocking on the nursery door you called out to Mirabel, hearing a rustling coming behind the door, “Miraboo?” about to open the door Mirabel opened it instead, widely smiling at you, “hey papa, what’s up,”

“Look I gotta ask you something, may I come in,” she moved to the side allowing you into the small room, you watched Mirable move over to her dresser and lean against it, “ok, what are you doing asking about Bruno?”

“Oh I’m just curious, there’s just has so much interesting stuff about him,”

“Mirabel don’t lie to me, you asked Pepa and Felix about the meanings behind Bruno’s prophecies, what are you doing, you know everything surrounding Bruno is really dangerous,”

“Well yeah I kinda figured that out from experience,”

“What does that mean?”

“I went into Bruno’s room,”

“YOU WHAT, Mirable there’s a reason we closed that door off, you could've died!”

“I know, everything was crumbing under my feet and I was almost drowned in sand, pretty dangerous place,” she stood there confidently, it quickly fading as she noticed your rapid breathing, “papa,”

“You were almost killed! you were, trapped under sand, in a place we never would have found you,” she took your hands in hers, peering into your eyes,

“Papa?”

“Why did you do that? we could’ve lost you,”

“I just wanted to figure out my prophecy,”

“Your prophecy? our kids only have their prophecies told at ten and Bruno left when you were five, how could you have one,” staring down at her she gulped, she lead you over to the dresser and removed the clothes on it, revealing the green glass plate sitting there, brushing your fingers over the green glass you slowly turned towards Mirabel, you were about to yell at her but was stopped by the door flinging open with Agustin happily dancing in but froze in shock when he saw the glow of the glass he, standing there as you, Casita and Mirabel tried to block his view.

[startanewdream]

James and/or Sirius laughing at Harry for growing (or trying to) grow a beard 🧔

That’s it

That’s my comment

Ahhh, it's midnight for me I work early tomorrow but I just *had* to write something along these lines!

Set during winter break at Year 6 (or my fave pining Harry time). Warning for some slang and also that I edited on the phone

________

“Fuck. No, no, it can’t be… fuck!”

The first slang would have made Sirius stop on his way down the hall, but the tone of desolation that follows it, added by the most hopelessness he has ever heard in Harry's voice, makes him open the door to his godson’s bedroom without waiting for an answer.

(Always risky when it comes to teenagers, but it seems to be an emergency)

The first thing he notices is the rotten smell, then the smoke coming out of a cauldron with the fire beneath still lit; sparkles are coming out of Harry’s wand, which he holds high (underage magic? That he won’t tell), but then Sirius’ gaze falls on Harry’s face and he ignores anything else.

Because on Harry’s face there is something so horrendous that Sirius won’t dare to call it a beard. It’s hair.

Harry’s chin spots the same hair as in his head. It’s a dark messy beard that makes him look as if his hair grew all around his mouth.

“What the hell?”

“Don’t laugh!” Harry tells him immediately, a little bit threatening, but Sirius is truly too shocked to even break a smile. This thing is too ghastly for even him to crack a joke about it. “I… I messed up, okay?”

“Kid, that’s an overstatement,” Sirius says, getting closer to his godson slowly. He touches his beard. “How did you get hair on your chin? That’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Ugh.” Harry throws a guilty look to the cauldron on the floor. “It’s Grandpa Monty’s fault.”

“Unless his ghost came back to screw your face, it seems as if you did this to yourself, kid.”

“No, I… Look!” He picks a scroll, waving it in front of Sirius’ nose. “I found his old notes in the attic. Five-Second Eazybeard! I swear I brewed the potion exactly as he wrote.”

Sirius eyes the smelly potion.

“Are you sure it was your granddad’s notes? This doesn’t seem like Monty's style at all.”

“Well… I thought so. He was the potioneer in the family, right? And he invented Sleekeazy!”

“And then he didn’t launch anything else,” Sirius reminds him, looking at the potion instructions.

“Because he was rich enough and didn’t need more money?”

Sirius laughs. “Nah, Monty was curious enough to keep inventing. This was probably an attempt that didn’t work.” Sirius shakes his head, smirking. “Look, I am not trying to pull a Lily here, but trying untested potions? That’s a bad idea, Harry.”

"I haven't had problems so far," Harry mumbles to himself. As Sirius is about to ask him what he means by that, Harry grabs his hand suddenly. "I learned the lesson, ok? Now you gotta help me!"

Sirius lifts an eyebrow. "The only thing that would help you is a scissor."

"I've tried! The bathroom is full of this thing, but it just grew back! I've tried to cut it magically, and it's all the same. You are the adult here, do something!"

"What do you want me to do? I can't do an antidote just looking at the ingredient list! You need Lily, just call her—"

"I…" the part of Harry's face that is not covered by hair flushes. "I can't. She is at the Burrow now, helping Mrs Weasley with the New Year's party."

"Then let's go, I am sure it will be easy for her—"

"No!" Harry looks in panic now, his eyes widened. "She cannot know what… what happened."

"Lily will know as soon as—"

"Not… not Mum, it's… look, that's fine. Mum will be back tomorrow, I will just spend the New Year hiding in my room pretending I don't exist."

"Harry… there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You know, growing hair body is perfectly normal at your age—"

"Ugh, stop teasing me."

"I wish I could, but you look truly horrible." Sirius winks at him, sitting on Harry's bed. "What prompted you to do this?"

Harry's flush intensifies.

"I was trying to grow a beard."

"Oh, really?"

"It's… it's stupid, okay? But Ginny was… I mean, I heard some girls saying that they enjoyed guys with a beard and I can only grow that stupid stubble and—argh—I just thought I could give it a try but now I have hair growing all around my head and—"

"You are babbling, kid, I got it."

"No, you don't." Harry runs his hand through his hair, looking very much like James when he is most nervous. "You get to grow a beard when you want it. You get this whole shining hair. You get women to sigh for you and I… I am just this stupid teenager who can't even have a full beard."

Sirius blinks. "You are worrying way too much, Harry. And, well, if you want to be assured, you are nice—girls have taken a fancy to you, haven't they?"

"That's just the Chosen One thing, it's not really… me."

Sirius fights back a smile. Harry seems really desolate.

"Look, you've grown well. You are still growing. I am sure people notice you. You have your mother's gorgeous eyes and you do look like James—if there is any comfort in this, I remind you that James got Lily to feel attracted to him, so you can't be that bad." Harry frowns, and Sirius isn't sure if it's because he doesn't want to think of their parents being attracted to each other or if because he doesn't trust Lily's opinion on this matter. "I am sure Ginny thinks you are attractive, beard or no beard."

Harry jumps.

"Who said anything—"

"Oh, are we still pretending you don't fancy her?"

Harry looks away. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"Yeah, sure. So you don't mind going to the Burrow now and showing up like this?"

"Of course I do! I mean… Ron would tease me."

"Ron."

"And the twins. I mean, look at this!"

"Yeah, I would be upset if they didn't. So many joke opportunities. You are hairy, Harry."

Harry puts his hands in front of his face. Sirius refrains from telling him this doesn't hide his beard at all.

"So… what do I do now?"

"We truly need Lily's help on this… we need to go to the Burrow."

"I can't—"

"Don't worry." Sirius breathes heavily. "Your godfather won't leave you alone on this."

_________

"It was an accident, Lily," Sirius tells her, his hand playing with the hair over his chin. His new grown hair beard reaches his chest and Sirius is almost finishing a braid by now. "I was trying some old potion, and then Harry was close and it just splashed in both of us."

Lily lifts her eyebrows, her eyes moving from Sirius to Harry and then back.

"An accident?" she repeats, incredulous.

"I am so sorry," he says, the portrait of innocence. "Could you help us with an antidote? And before you say anything, I know I shouldn't have tested an unknown potion. But do this for Harry, not for me. Poor kid doesn't deserve to spend the night hiding. It's a New Year's party after all!"

Lily shakes her head, amused.

"Fine, because you asked so eloquently. I will grab my potion kit, a hair inhibitor should be enough."

"You truly are the best, Lily," Sirius tells her, beaming.

Harry waits until his mother is out of the room to let out a relieved breath.

"Thanks so much, Sirius," he says.

Sirius nods, still messing with the hair on his chin. It's so weird and it looks as ghastly in him as it does on Harry.

He doesn't regret applying that potion to his face. His sacrifice worked just as he planned to: with two people having hair growing out of their chins, the attention was divided and with Sirius taking the blame, people felt sorry enough for Harry to not mock him much.

"Hey," they turn around to see Ginny coming closer, holding a tray with some sandwiches for them. "Mum thought you would be hungry while hiding here."

"Thanks," Sirius says, because Harry seems too busy pretending to look outside the window, anything so he can try to avoid Ginny looking at his beard.

Ginny nods at Sirius, but she approaches Harry anyway.

"Your mum is already working on the antidote, don't worry," she tells him gently. "Look, it's not as bad as that time Percy tried to grow a moustache, remember?"

Harry chuckles. "You are so lying."

"I would never," she assures him, voice light. "Look at me."

Harry turns to her almost as if he can't control it. His eyes soften as he gazes upon her, and Sirius is suddenly reminded of how Lily always looks when she sees James.

Ginny raises her hand slowly, giving Harry plenty of time to back away, but he just stays quiet as she touches his beard, her fingers running through it. Sirius suspects Harry isn't even breathing anymore.

"It's soft," she tells Harry and for a moment they just stare at each other. Sirius decides that he is really witnessing a moment that he doesn't want to, but his attempt to quietly leave the room only alerts them to his presence. Ginny's hand falls back as if she got electrocuted. "Anyway, you look better without it."

Harry grimaces. "I guess that stupid stubble is better than this."

"Stupid stubble?" Ginny blinks, evidently surprised. "It's not stupid, I… I mean, girls love it on you."

"They do?"

"Yeah, well, just thinking about your stubble brushing my skin—I mean, their skin, as in other girls' shoulders, or holding your face while… never mind, I just… I just heard it, that's all. You are drawing a lot of attention."

"I know, all this Chosen One stupid thing—"

"It's not it... you are really oblivious to your charm, Harry."

"You think I am charming?" Harry asks, longing evident in his voice now.

"I…" Ginny hesitates, turning away as if she doesn't want to answer this while looking at Harry, and her eyes meet Sirius. He smirks at her, knowing perfectly well her answer. Ginny's face reddens even as her jaw sets in a protective instance. "Yeah, with the stubble. Everyone knows it. It's common knowledge. I… I have to go, I think I heard Mum calling me."

Sirius could point out that Molly didn't call her at all, but he opts for just letting Ginny go, his smirk more than enough to let her know she didn't fool him.

At the other corner of the room, Harry's face is spotting a huge grin, watching the door with a dreamy expression.

"She likes my stubble!" He declares happily. "Oh, I need to take off this stupid long beard now."

Sirius shakes his head at Harry, amused. At least Harry won't ever complain about his inability to grow a beard again.