#its just going back and forth from the show and the google doc to make sure i get the details right | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

raverinalavara · 18 days ago

Text

Unfair Love 2

hey! its been a while since i wrote, I had a really hard time jumping back in but I'm in a mood! So we are restarting just as you are pulling out of your memories, right before Theo shows up! I have the last part already written, just need to edit it! Ive been taking on line writing classes, so hopefully I can get back into writing for HP fandom again. still not super sure of the use of this thing '-' instead of so many comments but I think I used it right? google docs didn't correct me so? 🤣

<<<PREV

MASTERLIST

Tears streamed down your face as you clung to him, trembling. “He hasn’t spoken to me in years, Tommy,” you sobbed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “And then he just shows up here—the night before I’m supposed to get married!”

Tom said nothing, but his jaw tightened, the fury he felt for Regulus simmering just beneath the surface.

You sucked in a harsh breath, and suddenly your tears turned into panic. “Oh my god.” You pulled back slightly, wide-eyed, your hands gripping Tom’s arms. “Teddy. What’s he going to think?”

Tom frowned, his expression softening. “Y/N—”

“No!” you cut him off, pulling completely out of your mind and away from his hold. In the real world, your movements were frantic as you scrambled to your feet. “What’s he going to think when he finds out I was crying over another man? When I should be relaxing and getting ready to marry him!”

Tom rose slowly, watching you with a careful eye as you began pacing back and forth, your hands tangling in your hair.

“This is a disaster,” you muttered, your voice thick with panic. “I’m a disaster.”

“You’re not a disaster,” Tom said firmly, but his words didn’t seem to reach you.

“I don’t deserve him,” you continued, almost to yourself now. “He’s been so good to me perfect, even—and I’m crying over Regulus Black, of all people. What kind of person does that make me?”

Tom stepped in front of you, stopping your frantic pacing with a gentle but firm grip on your shoulders. His dark eyes met yours, and for a moment, the storm inside you paused. “You’re stronger than this” was all he said softly. You stared at him, your chest heaving as you tried to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you. Tom’s words felt like a lifeline, but they didn’t erase the fear gnawing at you.

“What if I ruin everything?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“You won’t.” His tone was resolute, grounding even if there was a look of disgust on his face. “Because for Theodore loves you. And because for whatever reason you love him.” Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time, they were different—less frantic, more cathartic. Tom pulled you into another hug, his presence steady and unshakable. “You’re going to get through this,” he murmured.

“And Regulus? He doesn’t get to take this moment away from you.” Tom sighed, his patience running thin as he stood, ready to stop you before you spiraled further. But before he could, the door flew open with a bang, slamming against the wall. Mattheo rushed in, his eyes frantic, scanning the room for you.

“Y/N—” Mattheo started, his voice full of urgency. But before he could reach you, he was shoved aside by another figure.

Your tall, sandy-blond fiancé moved into the room like a storm. “Tesoro,” Theo whispered, his voice low and aching with concern. In an instant, he was at your side, pulling you into his arms. The moment you felt his embrace, your knees buckled again, your body giving out under the weight of everything you’d been holding in.

But Theo held you. He always held you. His strong arms supported your weight effortlessly, his hand cupping the back of your head and neck with a tenderness that made your heart crack all over again. “Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmured against your hair, his lips brushing your temple as he tried to calm you. “I’ve got you, amore. Just breathe.” Your shoulders racked with sobs, the sound breaking Theo’s heart into pieces. His free hand rubbed slow circles on your back, but the anguish on his face was impossible to hide.

He looked over your head at Tom and Mattheo, searching for answers, for context—for something. Tom stood stiffly, his dark eyes locked on the door like he was daring Regulus to walk back in. His jaw clenched, his fury barely contained, though he kept himself rooted in place for your sake.

Mattheo, on the other hand, was pacing near the stairs, his hands tugging at his hair in frustration. When Theo’s questioning gaze landed on him, Mattheo froze, torn between loyalty and the need to help his friend. He shifted uncomfortably, his jaw working as he struggled with what to say. Theo’s eyes narrowed slightly, silently urging him to explain, but Mattheo remained silent. He didn’t want to betray you—not when he knew how much trust you placed in him.

But he didn’t have to. You could feel Mattheo’s inner turmoil as clearly as your own, the bond between the three of you humming with shared tension. Gently pulling away from Theo’s chest, you wiped at your tear-streaked face, your voice trembling as you looked up at him. “Regulus was here.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

Theo froze, his head snapping back to you. His face was carefully blank, but you knew him too well to miss the storm of emotions flickering behind his eyes. He tried to rein them in—tried to shield you from the surge of worry, frustration, and protectiveness that threatened to spill over. But his silence said it all.

His first instinct was worry. Had Regulus tried to hurt you again, emotionally or otherwise? Theo had worked so hard to show you what it meant to be loved, truly loved. So many patient dates, gentle gestures, and moments where he let you set the pace, even when his heart ached to pull you closer. He’d spent years proving that love wasn’t supposed to hurt, that you were worthy of care and respect.

But now, the man who had caused you so much pain had the audacity to show up on the eve of your wedding, threatening to unravel everything. Theo exhaled slowly, forcing himself to focus on you instead of the anger boiling in his chest. He tilted your chin up gently, his thumb brushing away the tears streaking your cheeks. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil beneath.

You nodded weakly, but your eyes brimmed with fresh tears. “I—he just—” You struggled to find the words, your voice breaking. “He just showed up. After all these years, Theo. Like nothing ever happened.” Theo’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt, letting you speak. “I don’t know what he thought he wanted,” you continued, your voice trembling. “But it—it brought everything back. All the times he—” You choked on the words, unable to finish the sentence.

Theo’s grip on you tightened slightly, his hand on the back of your head pulling you closer again. “You don’t have to explain,” he said quietly. “I don’t care what he wanted. He doesn’t matter, tesoro. Not anymore.” His words should have comforted you, but instead, they brought a fresh wave of guilt. You pulled back again, shaking your head as panic bubbled up in your chest. “But what if—what if this ruins everything?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What if I ruin everything? You’ve been so good to me, Theo. And I’m standing here crying over him. What does that make me?”

“It makes you human,” Theo said immediately, his voice firm but gentle. “You’ve been hurt, amore. Deeply. That kind of pain doesn’t just disappear overnight. It doesn’t mean you love me any less. It doesn’t mean you’ve done anything wrong.”

His words broke through your panic, and you stared up at him, your bottom lip trembling.

“You’ve grown up carrying so much more than you should’ve had to,” Theo continued, his hand still resting on your cheek. “But you’re not alone anymore. I’m here. And we’re going to walk into that chapel tomorrow, and you’re going to marry me. Because I love you, and there’s nothing—nothing—Regulus or anyone else can do to change that.”

The weight of his words settled over you, grounding you in a way nothing else had. For the first time since the door had opened, you felt a small flicker of hope—a reminder that Regulus’s shadow didn’t define you anymore.

Tom and Mattheo remained silent, watching from the edges of the room. Tom’s expression was unreadable, while Mattheo’s eyes softened as he saw the way Theo held you, his protective instincts easing now that you were safe in the right arms. You swallowed hard and nodded, leaning into Theo’s touch. “I love you too,” you whispered, the words cracking slightly, but no less true.

Theo smiled softly, his forehead resting against yours. “That’s all I need to hear, amore.”

Realizing you were still caught in the throes of a panic attack, Theo quickly turned to your brothers. “Tom, Mattheo—can one of you grab her some water and a snack?” His tone was calm but laced with quiet urgency, and they both sprang into action without hesitation.

As soon as they left the room, Theo scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you close to his chest. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, tesoro.” His voice was soft, soothing, the sound grounding you even as your body remained shaky.

In your room, Theo moved with practiced care, helping you into your pajamas and ensuring you felt safe and settled. By the time the two of you were lying side by side on the bed, the tension had begun to ease. Your breathing had steadied, and Theo was doing what he did best—making you smile.

“You know,” he said, grinning as he turned onto his side to face you, “Muggle superstitions say seeing each other the night before the wedding is bad luck.”

You sniffled, the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. “Good thing we don’t believe in bad luck.”

“Exactly,” he agreed, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Because there’s nothing unlucky about this.”

For a few minutes, the two of you traded lighthearted quips about Muggle traditions, and Theo cherished the way the sound of your laughter returned little by little. This closeness, this unshakable bond, was what he treasured most in the world.

Finally, as silence settled over the room, Theo tilted his head to look at you, his expression soft and full of love. “Do you remember what tesoro means?” he asked gently.

You sniffled again and nodded, but Theo raised his eyebrows, waiting patiently for you to say it aloud. “It means treasure,” you murmured, your voice quiet but steady. He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “That’s right.” His hand found yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing rhythm. “So…my tesoro couldn’t possibly be horrible. Not ever.”

Your eyes filled with fresh tears—not of sorrow this time, but of gratitude and love. Theo took a deep breath, choosing his next words carefully.

“I get it, darling. He was your first love. There’s a lot of trauma wrapped up in that, and it’s not something you can just let go of overnight. But I know you’re not crying because you miss him. You’re crying for her—for 17-year-old you, for 15-year-old you, and all the versions of you he hurt. And that’s okay, amore. Because that’s how we heal.”

Your heart clenched at the tenderness in his voice, and when you looked up at him, it was with awe. How had you gotten so lucky to find someone like him?

Theo’s expression softened even further as he cupped your cheek. “I know it’s difficult for you, my love. This—open communication, understanding—it’s not something that comes naturally to you. And that’s okay. Just give me a little grace while I keep learning how to navigate you. I promise, one day, I’ll be an expert.” He leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, letting the closeness give you both a second to steady yourselves.

When he finally pulled back, the smile he loved so much was back on your face. He sighed happily, relief washing over him as he leaned in to kiss your nose, earning a small laugh from you. “There you are,” he said softly, his green eyes lighting up at the sound.

For Theo, everything felt right in his world again. You were here, safe, and the love of his life was smiling. That was all he needed.

Almost.

As you nestled against him, slowly drifting toward sleep, Theo remained awake, his mind spinning. He understood where you were coming from—completely. Regulus had been a significant part of your past, and the pain he caused was something you needed to process. Theo could respect that. He would always respect you.

But Regulus?

No.

Theo’s jaw tightened, a rare sharpness flashing across his normally gentle features. While he tended to lean toward his mother’s Hufflepuff nature, there was a reason the Sorting Hat had placed him in Slytherin. There was a reason Tom and Mattheo trusted him to care for you, and why he’d earned the respect of even the darkest circles.

He knew how to remind people of their place.

And tonight, it was Regulus Black’s turn to learn.

The soft sound of your breathing was the only thing grounding Theo as he carefully slipped out of the bed. He moved slowly, mindful of every creak in the floorboards, every shift of the blankets. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, his tesoro, peacefully asleep at last.

But peace was the last thing on Theo’s mind.

Quietly shutting the door behind him, he descended the stairs with practiced ease, his thoughts churning like a storm. By the time he reached the drawing room, his emotions were barely contained—he wasn’t sure if he was seething or simmering, only that the heat in his chest demanded an outlet.

Inside, the fire cast a warm glow across the space. Mattheo sat slouched in an armchair, a sketchpad balanced on his knee as he worked on something intricate and dark. Tom, on the other hand, was pacing. Back and forth, like a caged predator. The sharp click of his polished shoes against the floor echoed in the quiet room, cutting through the heavy silence.

The moment Theo stepped in, both brothers looked up.

Mattheo raised an eyebrow, his quill pausing mid-stroke. “Figured you’d be asleep by now,” he muttered, though there was no real surprise in his voice. Theo didn’t respond right away. Instead, he moved to the mantle, bracing his hands on the edge as he stared into the flames. He could feel their gazes burning into his back, but he didn’t turn.

“Where’s the bastard now?” Theo finally asked, his voice low but tight with restrained anger.

Tom stopped pacing, his sharp eyes narrowing. “Gone. I made sure of it,” he replied, his tone cold and clipped. “But if you’re asking if he’ll stay gone-”

“He won’t,” Theo finished for him, his knuckles tightening on the mantle.

Mattheo sighed and tossed his sketchpad onto the table, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, Theo. Let’s hear it. What’s the plan? Because you’ve clearly got murder on your mind, and as much as I hate Regulus, I’d really rather avoid Azkaban this week.”

“Not murder,” Theo snapped, turning to face them. “But he doesn’t get to walk away from this unscathed.” Mattheo groaned, running a hand through his curls. “Look, I get it, alright? He’s a manipulative, self-absorbed prick, and I’d love nothing more than to see him humbled. But…” He hesitated, his dark eyes flickering toward the stairs. “She’s finally calm. She doesn’t need us dragging this out and making it worse.”

Theo’s jaw clenched, his fists curling at his sides. “He showed up here, Mattheo. Here. The night before our wedding. He’s been tormenting her for years, and now he thinks he can waltz back into her life like he owns her? Like she’s some…some prize he can just claim when it’s convenient for him?” His voice rose with each word, the fury spilling out despite his efforts to contain it.

Tom, who had remained silent until now, stepped forward. His movements were deliberate, calculated, as he crossed the room to stand beside Theo.

“You’re right,” Tom said simply, his voice low and measured.

Mattheo blinked in surprise. “Tom—”

“No,” Tom cut him off, his sharp gaze locking onto his brother. “Theo’s right. Regulus needs to learn that his actions have consequences. He’s been allowed to play these games for far too long, and I’m not going to stand by and let him hurt her again.”

Mattheo frowned, his fingers twitching with agitation. “I’m not saying I disagree, but—”

“But nothing,” Tom interrupted. “This isn’t about revenge. It’s about protecting her. Making sure he understands that he doesn’t get to show up whenever it suits him and unravel everything she’s worked so hard to rebuild.” Tom stared down his brother, opening his mind to him, showing him some of the less personal memories you had shared with him before.

Theo nodded, his resolve hardening. “Exactly.”

Mattheo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fine. But if this backfires…”

“It won’t,” Theo said firmly.

Tom’s lips curled into a faint, dangerous smirk. “He’ll get the message. Trust me.”

Tom tapped a finger against the table he stood next to, his sharp mind already calculating. “If we’re going to send a message, it needs to be subtle. Effective but quiet. Something that will make Regulus understand his place without giving him the satisfaction of dragging Theo—or Y/n—into any mess.”

Mattheo leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed as he considered. “Subtle isn’t exactly my style, but I’ll bite. What are you thinking?” Tom crossed the room to the small cabinet near the corner, retrieving a decanter of firewhisky. He poured himself a glass, the faint clink of crystal the only sound as the fire crackled behind him. He took a measured sip before turning back to them.

“We remind him why no one crosses this family. No threats, no theatrics. Just a clear understanding that he’s not welcome here, or in her life, ever again.”

Mattheo arched a brow. “And how exactly do we do that without, you know, getting caught?”

Tom’s smirk was razor-sharp. “By playing to his ego.”

Mattheo tilted his head, intrigued but wary. “Go on.”

Tom set his glass down with a quiet precision that mirrored the calm before a storm. “Regulus thrives on control. He likes to believe he’s untouchable, that he holds all the power in any situation. So, we take that from him. Subtly. Publicly.”

Mattheo sat up straighter, his curiosity fully piqued. “Publicly? At the wedding?”

Tom nodded. “He’s arrogant enough to show his face tomorrow. He’ll keep his distance, but he won’t be able to resist lingering on the edges, watching her, trying to remind her he’s still there.”

Mattheo’s jaw tightened. “Bastard.” Theo stood quietly by the bar, nursing his drink as the Riddle brothers go back and forth. “Exactly,” Tom said. “Which is why we make sure he knows he’s unwelcome before he even gets the chance to interfere.”

“How?” Mattheo pressed, his fingers tapping restlessly against his knee.

Tom’s eyes glinted with a dangerous kind of amusement. “We leave him a message tonight. Something personal, something he can’t ignore. And we make sure it’s delivered in a way that rattles him.”

Mattheo grinned, his usual mischief returning. Mattheo, ever the chaotic force of nature, gestured animatedly as he outlined ideas that ranged from mildly mischievous to outright illegal. Tom, on the other hand, was unnervingly calm, his sharp mind dissecting each plan with clinical precision, tweaking the details until every step was flawless. Their dynamic was fascinating—a perfect blend of chaos and control, a storm and its anchor.

Tom began pacing again, the firelight casting sharp shadows across his face. “Regulus values appearances. His pristine image, his reputation—it’s everything to him. So we send him a reminder that his actions have consequences, and we use something he holds dear to deliver it.”

Mattheo leaned forward, his grin widening. “Like what? His reputation? His family name?”

Tom shook his head. “No. Something closer. More personal.” He paused, a calculating glint in his eye. “His prized wand.”

Theo couldn’t help but feel a surge of gratitude, despite the dark undertones of their plotting. He had been on the outside looking in for so many years, watching the infamous Riddle brothers command respect and fear in equal measure.

Mattheo whistled low, impressed. “You want to go after his wand? That’s bold, even for you.”

They were a force to be reckoned with, and most people either wanted to stay out of their way or curry their favor. But here he was, standing alongside them—not as an outsider, not as an enemy, but as family. They trusted him, respected him, and more importantly, they had welcomed him into the sacred circle that revolved around you.

Tom smirked. “Not the wand itself. Just…alter it. Temporarily. A subtle charm, something that makes it falter at the worst possible moment. Imagine him trying to cast a simple spell tomorrow and failing spectacularly in front of everyone.”

Mattheo chuckled darkly. “Humiliating. I like it. But what if he doesn’t use his wand at all tomorrow?”

He glanced at Mattheo, who was grinning wickedly as he mimed throwing Regulus into the Black Lake, and then at Tom, who shook his head with a smirk, clearly entertained but unimpressed by the dramatics. Theo knew that being on their side wasn’t just luck—it was a privilege. To earn their loyalty, their protection, and their trust meant everything. And now, standing there as they schemed to defend you, Theo felt a deep sense of belonging and pride.

Tom shrugged, his expression calm. “Then the charm wears off after twenty-four hours, and he’s none the wiser. No harm, no foul. But if he does use it? He’ll understand the message loud and clear.”

Mattheo frowned, his excitement tempered by a hint of caution. “And what if he traces it back to us?”

Because no matter what, he was part of this family now. And for you, for the life you deserved, he would stand shoulder to shoulder with the Riddle brothers against anyone who dared to threaten your happiness.

Tom’s smirk widened as he looked over to Theodore. “He won’t. The charm will be subtle, almost undetectable. By the time he realizes something’s wrong, it’ll already be over.”

Mattheo considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I’m in. But how do we get to his wand?”

Tom’s expression darkened with determination. “He’s staying in a nearby inn, isn’t he? We pay him a visit. Quietly.”

Mattheo stood, rolling his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. “This should be fun. Let’s get to it.”

Tom held up a hand, stopping him. “Not yet. We wait until the early hours, when the inn is quiet, and he’s likely asleep. We’ll leave the wand where we found it, untouched aside from the charm. No confrontation, no evidence.”

Mattheo nodded, his grin returning. “Subtle and ruthless. Just my kind of plan.”

Tom scoffed before turning to Theo, who had remained silent throughout their exchange. “You’re staying out of this.”Theo didn’t argue. He knew better than to risk getting involved so close to the wedding. But as he met Tom’s steely gaze, his voice was firm. “Just make sure the message is clear.”

Tom’s smirk returned, colder this time. “Oh, it will be.”

As the front door closed softly behind Tom and Mattheo, Theo paused at the base of the stairs. The fire still crackled in the hearth, the house quiet now except for the faint creaks of settling wood. His heart felt heavy, but his resolve was unshaken.

He glanced toward the stairs leading to your room, his jaw tightening briefly before he began climbing. The weight of the night—the anger, the pain, the chaos—still lingered in his mind, but knowing you were peaceful and unaware of everything happening around you, grounded him. He had made you a promise, and while Tom and Mattheo dealt with Regulus, Theo knew where his place was—by your side.

When he opened the door, the soft moonlight spilling through the curtains painted you in silver. You were curled on your side, your features relaxed for the first time that night. Theo’s heart ached at the sight. Even in sleep, he could see the faint remnants of the pain that had lingered on your face earlier.

Sliding back into bed, Theo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You stirred slightly, instinctively curling closer to him, your face nuzzling into his shirt. His lips quirked into a soft smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

As he watched you sleep, memories began to surface—memories he wished he could forget for your sake.

He thought of the stories your brothers had told him, the ones you had only ever hinted at but never fully spoken aloud. The house you grew up in wasn’t a home; it was a battlefield. Your father, a man consumed by his own darkness, had been more monster than parent. He had wanted power above all else, and you, Mattheo, and Tom had been pawns in his warped vision of the world.

Theo had seen the scars, the ones you didn’t think anyone noticed. Not the physical ones, though he knew those were there too, hidden beneath layers of silk and lace. It was the way you flinched at sudden movements, the way you hesitated to trust even those who had proven themselves loyal. The way you carried yourself like a fortress, walls raised high, but with cracks in the foundation that only those closest to you could see.

He stroked your hair gently, his fingers threading through the soft strands as his mind wandered further.

At school, you had been a picture of perfection on the surface. The rich girl with the impeccable uniform, the perfect grades, the sharp wit that kept others at a distance. But Theo had seen through it. He’d seen the way you stayed behind after class, lingering in empty corridors just to avoid going back to the dormitory. He’d seen the way you clung to Tom and Mattheo, how they became your shield and sword against a world that seemed to be more scared of you than you were of it.

He thought back to the nights you would crawl into bed with your brothers, your body shaking with fear from nightmares you could never outrun. The trauma, the terror, all those long, sleepless nights when they held you close because they were the only ones who understood, the only ones who could give you any sense of peace.

But now, Theo was the one holding you. Now, it was him who would be there when the darkness crept in, when the memories of your past threatened to consume you. His hand softly brushed the hair from your forehead, and his fingertips traced the delicate lines of your face—your nose, your cheekbones, the curve of your lips. He made promises to himself then, silent vows that filled him with determination.

He promised he would never leave you to face your demons alone. He promised that he would be there to help you heal, piece by piece, until you could finally see yourself the way he saw you—strong, beautiful, deserving of every ounce of love and happiness that the world had to offer.

And most of all, he promised that you would never be alone again.

“You’re my world, Tesoro,” he whispered softly, his voice barely audible in the quiet room. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “I’ll spend every day making sure you know how much you mean to me. We’ll get through this, together. I promise.”

As he lay there, feeling the steady rhythm of your breath against his chest, Theo’s heart swelled with a quiet sort of peace. For all the struggles you had faced in your life, all the pain and loss, he would be there to help you find your way back to the light.

And no matter what, no one—least of all someone like Regulus—would ever take you from him.

NEXT>>>>>>

@helendeath @fallingblackveils @drstark56

#theodore nott #slytherin #theo nott xreader #theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n

15 notes · View notes

dinthoqaf · 3 months ago

Text

( Story I posted for my guild some time ago. Wouldn't call it super recent, maybe about 6 months old by now. Hope y'all enjoy and apologies for any odd formatting, just copy/pasted it over from Google Docs. )

===================

A Trap Ensared

The castle roof of Caer Darrow explodes outwards and upwards as a singular person arches out through the debris towards the tiered courtyard below. A brightly armored thing decorated in colors of alabaster, crimson red, and polished gold with a near twinkling aura as it, meteored into the ground. The ground heaves, pushing upwards so cobblestone walkways separate before the exhale comes, causing the ground to sink once more. Paladins and Priests, men and women alike, whisper between one another in concern for whatever was going on.

The manor above them all, covered in a cloud of dust and dirt, becomes apparent as a silhouette with the sun to its back. A beautiful sight if that were all it was, but within something stirs great in its size as it was not simply a thing, but many things, moving quietly beyond what should have been comprehendible. It’s from this that Dinthoqaf comes from the smoke, theatric in his exposure at first, it’d look as if he were floating out towards them but that was far from the truth. Tendrils of Shadow, Flesh, Blood, and Void intermingle amongst the ruined walls and debris as they bring him forth from the confines of greater Scholomance.

A stirring occurs in the ranks below and a few of the younger Priests and Paladins, their faith not yet tested, waivers ever so slightly as they take a step backward and whispering begins to move amongst them. What had they gotten themselves into? He was only one man. He was only one man. They hadn’t listened or perhaps were so sure of themselves with their numbers and Faith that a man calling himself the Defiler was some overhyped cultist wanna-be.

What they got were spoon-fed lies in the hope numbers would prevail.

The ground heaved again as *something* below them stirred. A guttural groan rumbles up from the earth as a putrid grey arm lifts up into the air, bending at the elbow just to plant a huge hand onto the ground before another did much the same followed by several other smaller variants and not one seeming to match the other. It pushes hard against stone and soil and a nearby priest was the first to see his face. Sockets hollowed out, black oil like ichor dribbling from its dirty sockets, nostrils, and lips. In its effort to appear human, the uncanny valley effect would make hairs stand up on his neck looking at it. This… this was not human… was it? The answer comes quickly as the being pushes free, its mouth opening to an impossibly human degree only for it to keep going to reveal a massive monstrosity that looked to be a child’s drawing-made nightmare as it was a mix of muscles, limbs, and nearly all mouth when fully opened.

Dennis.

Hand crafted by The Sanctum’s followers with their sacrifice of time, effort, and one extremely stupid acolyte now turned horrific weapon.

A scream occurred as Dennis’s mouth opened, showing off curling appendages holding the priest within who was reaching out for someone, anyone, to help, just for them to see the poor man begin to get digested by the black, semi-clear saliva that was covering his body and dribbling from the sides of Dennis’s maw to the ground below. His jaws snap shut and for a moment, flesh can be seen bulging down from the soft tissue under his jawline before it goes still. Death.

”What the fuck is that?!”

A voice rings out amongst the shining mass of bodies. Faith wavers and one of them turns to run. Untested. If the situation wasn’t more dire Dinthoqaf would have been loving this, watching them break at the sight of a single death and creation that hadn’t truthfully been put to use yet. It was only a shift of the hand, a flick of the wrist as Din’s hand went horizontal in its gesture, and like a signal flare, Dennis stretched upwards in his massive capacity, head splitting just to emit something that could only be related to an alligator’s bellow. The air reverberates in a hateful fashion, causing people's breath to catch in their chests before Dennis begins to charge forward into the group of them. Armored bodies, clothed priests, staves and swords, shields too. Nothing was spared the rampage as the monstrosity began to swat, swing, and devour those unlucky enough to get caught in his assault.

He wasn’t alone though as the walls of Caer Darrow’s stonework began to crumble and fall apart. Tendrils and roots began to seep from her crevices, ensnaring those who pushed back to far to keep their distance from the grey flesh monster before them. Dinthoqaf had not come here unprepared. This was not the first time someone had attacked him or his Sanctum in this place and whether they all died here today or not, this would be the last time he’d make use of it. No trap, no snare, would go unused to make sure Ammaelin and his Allies paid for their flawed transgression.

Screams of anger, violence, and pain came from the courtyard as everyone fought to keep from being torn in half or even a few amongst one another as fear led to treachery in the face of potential death.

It was so different when someone thought victory was assured.

Guided down, Dinthoqaf stepped from his tendril hovering to the ground where Ammaelin had fallen. He'd wait, his brother looking about, screaming out orders in an effort to bring about an end to the chaos but that too stopped when Dinthoqaf came directly to stand before him. There was no talk, there was no need. Ammaelin or Dinthoqaf would walk away from this, but only one of them if he had anything to say about it. He charged; sword uplifted and at the ready as his assault against The Defiler truly began.

Brain versus Brain, Magic versus Might, the two men went at it with one another in an exchange of physical blows, magical outbursts, and tentacular arm-to-sword swaps with each taking their licks and hits. Sweat and blood ran from the bodies and faces of each, their hair disheveled and matted with blood, dirt, and sweat to boot. The paladins and priests in the courtyard were beginning to rally, what wasn’t being eaten or torn apart by the Manor's defenses or by Dennis himself. This place was meant to stand an assault, but it was also meant to have the Sanctum within its walls to help, not just The Defiler alone against a small army made specifically to counter him.

He knew a losing battle when he saw one and as much as it angered him, as much as it was tearing his ego apart, this was not a fight he intended on falling to. His attention and anger catch his attention enough that time seems to freeze as an ice-cold pain runs from his left shoulder to his neck and straight into his torso. His eyes shift as he pulls away and his right arm goes to his side.

Something was wrong.

He didn’t feel anything and that’s when he looked over. He felt nothing because there *was* nothing. His left arm missing and his tendrils moved to the socket of his shoulder where black blood poured out of him with the arm lying on the ground. It’d quickly rot and dissolve, seeping into the ground now that it was off of him, but this didn’t stop Dinthoqaf from yelling out in pain. This shocked pain was not just from the fact Ammaelin had severed his arm, an elf who was looking mighty proud about said fact now, but from the fact, this put him well out of the range of being able to continue this fight now.

“XIODELOW EJATHUNG!!!”

The Island heaved in distress as the bowels of Scholomance came alive. Black dust and mist came bellowing out from her core and into the air, sweeping over the entirety of the place obscuring view from everyone and everything that wasn’t an arm’s length away. A Swarm host, similar to the Silithid or Qiraji bugs, these small insects began to devour and eat flesh the moment they came into contact only to begin swelling as part of their magical nature quickly. Blood, it was all it’d take before they swelled and began to explode violently, sending men and women flying into one another with missing body parts.

It was all Ammaelin could do to keep a barrier of Light about himself as he tried to push through to Dinthoqaf, to end this before the barrier fell and he’d become nothing more than food for the Swarm. The air crackled as bug after bug hit the Light Barrier around the island, exploding violently just to send ripples across its surface.

Another crack, another series of splinters, and then the loud shatter occurred, breaking it entirely before the swarm itself began to either scatter across the landscape to escape as well or before it started to fall to the ground dead. It was not intended to last long but as the bugs fell and the last tentacles were dealt with or went inert, one thing was apparent.

Dinthoqaf was gone and with him the massive multi-limbed monstrosity he had called.

“Light be damned!” Ammaelin screams out in anger. “I’ll find you, you bastard! I’m coming for you and your Sanctum!” He’d skewer his sword into the ground, cursing as he’d spit blood to the ground. His trap had worked, but not to the degree he’d hoped. Dinthoqaf was wounded and now that he was gone, he knew he was mobilizing against him…

#RP #Wow #SotF #Dinthoqaf #Monster #Combat #Storyline #Guild

5 notes · View notes

critter-core · 1 year ago

Text

Quick Chips Lore Infodump

This is thrown together on a google doc and now I'm smacking it onto tumblr so I'm sorry if it seems messy. That's cause it is lol

Not gonna tag anything cause I'm lazy so whatever lol

Eh, actually, I'll at least put the foodie tags ig lol

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

So Chips’ general story has always been that he inherited his ship from his parents in their will when they passed away due to the sea.

To go into more detail, Chips was on the ship with them when they died, so it’s kind of traumatizing to him a bit. They were sailing the seas, delivering an important package to Big Mama.

Let’s go back a bit though.

Chips’ parents were mutated when the oozesquitos were released, and although they were both rather terrified, especially because they were being illegally sold as exotic pets, they did manage to escape.

The two parents were a family before, and even had their own kid (who was like 15 when he got mutated, just so that he stays around the mad dogs’ ages), but were being sold to different owners. They were carried on the same ship though, so when the oozesquitos struck, with many different exotic sea creatures fleeing, they ran into each other during the chase, and it was true love at first sight.

For simplicity’s sake, the mom is Sea Salt, and the Dad is Vinegar (I’ll come up with better names later but I like chip jokes so this is the name for now). Sea Salt was a lighter pastel yellow color, and Vinegar was a darker orange color. I’ll make refs later.

So yeah, anyways, they escaped, and when they learned of the Yokai world, they chose to live in the Hidden City instead, since it’d be safer for them and their kid, who they managed to find despite the chaos.

The parents took transport jobs for Big Mama, in hopes that they’d be able to eventually leave her business and sail the seas when they had money they could spend without worry. The parents often delivered packages or people who were to fight in the Battle Nexus…

It hadn’t been much time before Chips’ parents died.

He was still 15. It was a heavy storm, but they had to deliver a very expensive package to Big Mama, as usual. Chips didn’t know what the package was, though, and he had never really wondered until now. He did sneak a look to see it was a cage with a wild animal of some sorts.

The animal scared him, and when his mother caught him, she told him to never go near that cage again, and so he didn’t. But out of nowhere, a big storm brewed up, and the waves were shaking the boat back and forth. Eventually, some large waves crashed into the boat.

One wave too big, and the whole ship was shaken to its side. Chips and his parents all got separated in the waves, and he found himself washed up on the shores of the Hidden City. His parents weren’t there. It was a miracle that he survived, but he was terrified nonetheless.

A tall purple lady walked up, and it was then that he understood what the package was. There stood Big Mama, a very rich lady who was very popular in the Hidden City, both for her gold and her show.

She told him she never got her package from his parents. She did so through strange words he didn’t quite understand, but it began to make sense when he broke it down. She wasn’t happy.

“You’ll do, turtley-boo,” She said, before ordering her henchmen to grab him. He fought and fought, but before he knew it, he was in their dungeons. He did manage to break out though, when there was sudden chaos. It was something about some mutant turtles breaking into Big Mama’s vault for some stuff she supposedly stole from them.

Chips would have been more curious about it if it weren’t for the fact that he was too preoccupied trying to escape while he could.

When he did, he was at first lost.

He didn’t know what to do.

But then some strange frantic seagull yokai ran up to him squawking about something. (I headcanon a bullhop esc voice lol)

“You! You there! Oh thank goodness! I’ve been runnin around with my head cut off tryin to find you!” He snapped suddenly, before searching his pouch. “You are the child of Sea Salt and Vinegar, yes?” Chips nodded. “Ah, good. Firstly, I am sorry for your loss. Secondly, in your parents’ last will and testament, it states that they grant you their ship and all of the money they had amassed at the time of death.”

Chips was frankly speechless…

But this seagull wasn’t. He proceeded to drag Chips to a large Hidden City Bank (no, like, that was literally what it was called), and took him to a vault. Chips was greeted to a large pile of gold. Chips hadn’t realized his parents had amassed so much, and he wondered why they were still working for Big Mama when they didn’t need the money…

Nonetheless, Chips knew that even if it was a lot of money, he shouldn’t spend it all immediately. So instead, he leaves it in the vault. He was about to buy a new ship, since he lost the one they rode in the tsunami, but the seagull who had been accompanying him informed him that for his 16th birthday, his parents had a ship ready to give.

The two decide to ‘open’ the 16th birthday present early, and Chips is presented with a new ship. A large ship. A ship just for him. It’s a perfect ship, reflecting the older regal pirate ships that Chips had always dreamed of. It even had a wooden sea serpent figurehead carved to wrap around the front wood panel.

Needless to say, Chips immediately forgot about the whole Big Mama fiasco. He saw this ship and he declared that he would sail the seven seas, just as his parents have once dreamed of. Although the seagull (who’s name was revealed to be Peter) had a job as a messenger, they still continue to be friends and talk occasionally.

From here, Chips began to sail the seas, just as he wished. He even built a crew! Though the only ‘crew’ he’s collected were animals he saved from ships that were bringing over illegal exotic pets like him and his family, along with other stray pets that he just adopted. Any exotic animals in his crew were ones that chose to stay with him rather than return back to their native habitats.

#tmnt foodie au #foodie siblings and friends au

6 notes · View notes

volfoss · 1 year ago

Text

also tossing together a quick list of resources for anyone who is going into volfoss and machine translating their way thru it:

obviously google translate and yandex are helpful but for different situations. gtranslate is more accurate a lot of the time, and the feature i find most helpful is the romanization under the kanji (esp helpful for names when you have NO official eng translation lol). yandex for ME helps a lot when i need a second opinion but more specifically need to define a specific part of a sentence. if you highlight text in yandex, you can go kanji by kanji for meaning. this is VERY helpful in situations where theres one word thats translating differently between the software. i primarily use the camera feature on the app for gtranslate, and then use the send to translation home button when i need to send kanji back and forth from my phone to pc (for example, if theres a name that appears a couple times, such as the former leader's, i just grab the kanji where his name is mentioned and then can put it in my doc super easy (i just use discord to send it back and forth). these are both very helpful BUT are not always super accurate which is why other resources help a lot.

i will NEVER not have a tab for a japanese -> english dictionary open. ive been using this one on archive.org since the start of the project and this one (which translates kanji specifically, so you can type english, the romanization, or the kanji in, it also shows the amount of strokes and it's just honestly really helpful if i need to look at another source) more recently. next up is a couple game specific resources that helped a LOT before i got used to the game names and being able to read them (guy that has about 80 hours in the game and has well. been very immersed in it. so its pretty much all memorized at this point).

this site has the best gallery with the english names. this is most helpful if you a. recognize the katakana or b. can kind of sound out the machine translations to compare them to the official ones (ie: google translates "shalvas" as "charbus" or a few different variations. stuff like that and being able to kind of grasp oh thats how that is supposed to sound helps a lot. there were a lot of stuff that i was tripped up on first playthrough because of how things are spelled (such as the place "thela" translates to "taylor" 99.99% of the time. it is a big pain)). next up, i would HIGHLY recommend this map from the person who made both the Japanese wiki and the backup wiki. that wiki has a BUNCH of resources in general but im just tossing all the stuff that i used super super often early on. the map has everything divided into regions (ie: rebels (towns. thats the proper term for them in game) that are under Caldealand, Asdenia, Ikuaipe, or are unaffiliated).

the map specifically is all in japanese but im tossing a little table i made at the end of the post with the proper translations so you can easily tell. obviously having the "proper" translations doesn't matter a ton if you're not well. making a 100% guide. but it is helpful to know what you're dealing with with places (a lot of them get mangled by translating them, like the more you play the more you'll be able to kind of recognize how they're spelled/mistranslated).

#twist rambles #♟️#sorry this is kind of long. but i feel it can help out anyone whos doing this shit on their own. i ofc can send the wip guide if anyone #wants it but yk. i understand some people are like ummm volfoss now?? for meee :3 #as for character names. the in game gallery helps a lot. i have that all pretty much typed up and organized so again. i prommy when i drop #the guide its gonna be so so so helpful. i prommy. but until then i wanted to kind of like. make it easier for people lol.

6 notes · View notes

garagebandvanfleet · 3 years ago

Text

8 Seconds

Pairing: Josh x female!reader

Warnings: brief catcalling

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You attend the local rodeo where a certain bull rider catches your eye.

Notes: I found this lil guy in my Google Docs that I wrote for a creative writing class in college. Tweaked it a bit to fit with Josh. Thought about making this a chaptered fic but not really sure where to go with it right now.

You wiped at the bead of sweat that rolled down the side of your face, catching it before it made its way down your neck. The sun was at its peak in the sky, patrons fanned themselves with whatever they could find to get some sort of relief. The air was still, making the early July heat even crueler. The local weatherman stated it was one of the hottest summers on record, and it didn’t plan on cooling down anytime soon. You could feel the white t-shirt you wore start to cling to your back from the sweat. The smell of dust and fried foods filled your nose, causing you to wiggle it back and forth, attempting to halt the sneeze you felt approaching.

You kicked your sky blue cowgirl boots along the ground, creating a small cloud of dust behind you. You stopped as a few kids dressed in plaid shirts, jeans, and cowboy boots chased each other - the last one swinging a lasso around. Their high-pitched giggles filled the air as you turned your lips up into a smile; the memories of when you were that age and attending the local rodeo filled your head.

After the children passed, their laughter fading as they went, you continued on your path towards the stands. A beautiful grullo-colored American Quarter Horse was being directed around the barrels at lightning speed. You stood at the edge, just before the stairs, as you searched for anyone you knew. Well, you knew everyone, your town was one of those ‘everybody knows everybody’ types. Currently, you were specifically looking for your group of friends. You hadn’t seen them for a longer time than you’d like to admit, adult life caused your schedules to hardly ever align.

“Y/N, up here!” Your eyes traveled a few rows up to see your mother as she waved her arms back and forth, signaling for you to join her. A few people behind her moved their heads around to see past her flailing limbs and to the arena.

Before you could head towards your mother, you felt a petite pair of arms wrap around your waist. You looked down at the arms around you, one hand held the wrist of the other and bright yellow nail polish neatly coated their fingernails. You looked over your shoulder but were only able to see the top of their head.

“Everyone is over by the fence.” Your best friend said. After her arms dropped from around your waist you gave your mother a small wave and a smile, signaling that you were going with your friend. You turned and followed her to the fence of the ring where the rest of your friend group was sitting. As you approached the fence loud catcalls and wolf whistles came from a group of men who were sitting on the first row of the stands. Your friend twirled her body in a full circle, showing off her plaid shirt that was tied up so that most of her stomach was on display and her Daisy Duke shorts. You opted for a middle finger to the group, making your disapproval of their antics known. Suddenly, you felt over-exposed in your denim shorts even though they landed at mid-thigh.

You and your friends were all sitting on the top bar of the metal fence; while not the smartest thing, it was a small adrenaline rush that your everyday life never provided. You grabbed a black hair tie from around your wrist and pulled your hair back into a ponytail, giving the back of your neck some much-needed air.

You all sat and watched the events of the day unfold. The sun was now gone, the moon and bright stars lit up the night sky. Suddenly, the crowd began to cheer at a volume that surpassed anything you had heard today. Some stood to clap while others opted to stay seated and stomp their boots on the floor of the wooden bleachers, creating a sound similar to that of a thunderstorm.

A sonorous voice came over the speakers attached to wooden poles all around the arena. This brought your attention back to the ring, the man announced the event that everyone had been looking forward to; bull-riding. This part of the rodeo always seemed to go by in a blur for you. The crowd was always on edge, waiting with bated breath to see if their favorite rider would hit that 8-second mark and make it safely away from the bull.

“And for the last ride of the night, he’s not originally from around here but we’ve all come to love him, on the back of Taking Care of Business, everyone’s favorite Josh Kiszka!” You thought the crowd was loud before, but at this moment you could’ve sworn you’d never heard anything more deafening than their cheers. From the gate, all you could see was the top of a white cowboy hat, the gate covered the rest of his body and the bull underneath him.

Everything around you seemed to slow down; the ear-piercing cheers, the clouds of dust that surrounded you - it was almost as if this moment was suspended in time. It wasn’t until the buzzer sounded, signaling the workers to open the gate, that everything resumed normal speed. The gate swung open and the bull flew out with Josh on its back, trying to get the twenty-something year old off of him. The bull was a beautiful chestnut brown with a small white patch in the shape of a T on his face, having a father that used to ride gave you a deep appreciation for the animal.

The bull moved as if he was on fire. Dirt was being kicked up every time the bull would buck its body into the air, Josh moving his body with each twist and turn. Even as the dust filled the air you couldn’t take your eyes off the man atop the impressive creature. He wore a green and white plaid long sleeve, a tan vest with fringe on the back also protected his upper half. Light wash blue jeans covered by black leather chaps adorned his lower half. Black cowboy boots covered his feet, if you were seeing correctly, the boots seemed to have white roses embroidered on them.

Eight seconds had never felt so long to you; your legs shook in both excitement and nervous anticipation. Nothing got your heart racing more than watching a bull use all its strength to attempt to throw its rider off. You could feel it, the quick pace thud-thud thud-thud of your heart beating against your chest.

As the two timers on each end of the arena struck 8.0 seconds Josh did his best to get his riding glove clad hand out from under the rope that was tied around the bull’s body. Both his feet were safely on the ground and the bull was being directed back into the pen by the bullfighters. Josh took his hat and threw it up into the air, he seemed to love being in the spotlight, eating up the crowd’s cheers.

From where you were sitting on the fence you locked eyes with Josh, an exuberant brown connecting with yours. You smiled, lips parting to show your teeth to the man. He grabbed his now dust-covered hat from the ground and jogged over to where you were sitting. The sound of the inside of his jeans moving against each other could only be heard when he was directly in front of you. Josh put one foot on the first bar of the fence and used it as leverage to be level with your face.

He pressed his forehead to yours, giving you a lopsided grin that brought out the dimples in both his cheeks. His cheeks were tinted a light pink and his breath came out in short puffs, smelling of chocolate and spearmint. As he pulled back you could feel the sweat from his forehead sticking to your own. Josh placed his white cowboy hat atop your head, flicking the brim down a bit. You let out a small laugh, readjusting the hat so it no longer covered your eyes. His light brown curls stuck to his forehead. You watched as a bead of sweat moved from his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, and was finally captured by the mustache that seemed to make him that much more breathtaking.

Without a word he hopped down from the fence, disturbing the settled dust. One last wave to the crowd and he was gone, his lean body disappeared out of the view of the arena lights.

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka fluff #gvf imagine #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet one shot #greta van fleet imagine

78 notes · View notes

dirtychocolatechai · 4 years ago

Text

meet-cute | b.b.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Warning(s): fluff, awkward Bucky, vet appointment stuff, Alpine Request: Babes if you're lowkey taking requests can I lowkey make one? 👉🏼👈🏼🥺💕 something flirty and cute and maybe a lil spicy with Bucky and vet!reader where something's going on with Alpine? Not self indulgent at all 😻💖 Notes: This was the first thing I’ve written in months and it felt damn good. Funny story, I actually almost went to school to be a vet tech + shadowed a vet for two weeks and got to see some wickedly cool things.

This was a bit self-indulgent on my part because I had a cat who passed away some years ago because of struvite stones and I wished he had a happier ending like Alpine so I thought why not 🤷‍♀️💖

Taglist is open

(gif from google)

There’s nothing Bucky hates more than the stringent smell of industrial cleaners and clinical white walls - too many associations and shades of memory long laid to rest - except for when something’s going on with Alpine. The Turkish Angora was fine up until a few days ago when he started to hide away and sleep all day.

That wasn’t too concerning at first...

But then came the pained little noises, the frantic running back and forth from the litter box, the excessive grooming. The pit that started forming low in his belly grew, his instincts screaming at him that something was wrong, very wrong, with his little buddy.

Bucky wasn’t about to fuck around and set up an appointment with the first vet office he could find that had a same-day opening. And now he’s trying not to fall apart at the seams while he waits for the docs to do their magic and tell him what the hell’s going on with his cat and what he has to do to fix it.

The vet tech collected Alpine a bit ago and every minute stretches into years, the cat’s pitiful meow echoing in his ears and those betrayed eyes burned onto the backs of his eyelids.

I know, Bub, I’m sorry but they gotta figure out what’s going on. It’ll be okay, they’ll take care of you.

His ass went numb from the plastic chair ages ago, his leg jiggling up and down at a rapid pace as he chews on his thumbnail and waits.

And waits.

God, he knows these things take time but he’d rather be back at home, curled up on the couch with Alpine pigging out on breakfast food and watching space documentaries.

How much longer-

“Alright, Mr. Barnes?”

The heavy door swings open with a click, a kind, professional voice preceding a pair of sensible shoes as the vet steps into the room with a clipboard cradled against her chest. His eyes snap up, skipping over her completely to look at the tech holding his cat who looks absolutely miserable.

She introduces herself but he’s not paying attention. He’s not meaning to be rude but all his focus narrows in on that white little face, the knot in his chest unfurling at the little mew.

He smiles, his eyes crinkling around the edges as he breathes, “Hey there, Little Buddy.”

The vet doesn’t push, in fact, she seems a little enamored with how much he melts at the sight of his pet. Her own lips quirk up into a soft smile while she stands off to the side patiently as Alpine’s set down on the metal table.

Bucky gets in a few good scritches under his chin, the beginnings of a purr just starting to vibrate his hand when the vet clears her throat delicately.

He clears his throat, heat burrowing into the apples of his cheeks. “Shi - uh, ‘m sorry.” A hand scrubs over the back of his neck. “I’m just - uh - y’know...”

Her laugh trickles down his spine like warm rain, the sound effectively drawing his attention away from the cat rubbing up against his side. He gets his first look at her and oh.

A bare face and a no-nonsense hairstyle greet him, her scrubs and white coat adding to the overall doctor vibe but she’s still breathtaking. The natural beauty in the curves of her face, the slant of her brows, the sparkle of her eyes.

He feels like he got sucker-punched in the chest, his heart giving a sudden throb that has him coughing like an idiot as he scrambles to not look like such a jackass.

“So,” he clears his throat, scratching at the stubble along his jaw, “What’s - what’s wrong with him?”

Glancing down at Alpine’s chart, she hums and writes a note before glancing back up with a reassuring smile. “Nothing that can’t be managed with a special diet and watching his water intake.”

It’s like the weight of the world disappears from his shoulders, his broad frame practically heaving with his sigh of relief. “Oh thank fucking- ahem, ‘scuse me - thank god.”

Her chuckle and sly smile have him blushing from the roots of his hair to the collar of his shirt, his stomach squirming in discomfort. Old habits are hard to break, especially ones his momma taught him with a box to the ear.

“You’re allowed to swear, Mr. Barnes,” she says, reaching down to run her fingers through snow-white fur. “We’re all adults here.”

“No, no, I know...”

“Hm, anyway, his blood work came back and everything looks fine which is a good thing.”

And it’s back to business like that, any hint of personality hidden behind cool professionalism that Bucky thinks even Tasha would admire. Except for the playful gleam in her eyes as she sneaks peeks at him while going over everything they did and what they found.

“Struvite crystals are quite common in cats at low levels, especially males because their tract is longer and narrower.” She pauses, flipping to a new page. “Depending on the severity, they can clump together in the urinary tract and actually form stones. That’s where the true problem lies because get one large enough, and it can cause a blockage.”

He’s listening with rapt attention, soaking in the knowledge she’s imparting to him all the while, petting Alpine who keeps nuzzling him and making little sounds. Honestly, he could listen to her talk for hours even if he didn’t understand a goddamn thing.

She’s so animated when she speaks, holds eye contact and makes sure he understands everything without making him feel like an idiot. He’s had so many doctors who talked at him rather than with him, staring through him without seeing, more interested in the paycheck rather than their patients.

But not her, she cares.

Deeply.

He can see it all over her face and it’s utterly enchanting. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little enamored, charmed.

Turning the tablet towards him, she shifts closer and a waft of whatever perfume she’s wearing tickles his nose as she explains what the x-ray of Alpine’s abdomen found.

“These are the stones but thankfully they’re relatively small,” she points to several hazy white ovals starkly visible on the radiograph, “We caught them in time before they became a really big problem.”

Shit, she smells so good...

“Now, we’ll send you home with a special diet and see how he does. Also, make sure to up his fluid intake as much as you can. The food can take several months to start dissolving the crystals so we’ll have to do everything we can to help. Sound good?”

Bucky hasn’t pulled his eyes away from her face once this entire time, and how fucking creepy is that?

Quickly looking down at Alpine, embarrassment gnawing at his belly, he nods and wishes for the first time since he cut his hair that he hadn’t so he’d at least have a passing chance at hiding the blush burning its way across his face.

“Yeah,” he says, picking up the ball of white fluff to hold against his chest, a makeshift shield. “Is there anything else I should do?”

“No.” She smiles, writing another note and tapping away at the tablet next to her. “I do want to see him again in about a month for a check-up.”

Fuck, he doesn’t want to leave so soon.

The irony isn’t lost on him either.

How does he make this last longer? What can he do? If Sam was here right now, he’d be kicking him in the ass and bitching at him to ask for her number already, Ice Pick.

The clack of the chart being set down rings through the room, bouncing off the walls and sounding so fucking final that he starts to panic.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

She’s already halfway to the door when she asks, “Do you have any questions?”

The word vomit spring from him, unbidden and sudden without any thought, more forward than he’s been with a woman in years.

“Can I have your number?”

As soon as the question leaves his lips, he curses, cringes and wishes he could snatch the very words from the air itself.

Great, I just hit on my vet.

No amount of backpedaling can salvage this but goddamn it if Bucky doesn’t try, stuttering out some half-assed excuse about wanting it just in case he thinks of something later.

When he glances up, he wishes he hadn’t. The vet tech is in near tears in the corner, biting her lips so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if they started to bleed.

But it’s the absolute surprised bafflement on the woman he just inappropriately hit on that does him in, makes him about ready to burn all forms of identification and run for the hills.

Her brows nearly reach her hairline, her mouth slack, eyes startled. She gets ahold of herself before he does, and he barely stops himself from slapping a hand over his face.

Right when he’s thinking there’s no way he’s going to be able to show his face in the office again, her expression softens with gentle amusement and her lips twitch.

Struck dumb, he can only watch as she writes something down on a slip of paper before handing it over to him. He barely believes the string of numbers and the cheeky little call me anytime :).

The wink she sends his way is there and gone, so fast he almost believes he imagined it.

“For emergencies only,” she says, slyly. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he agrees, almost tripping over the cat carrier as he hurries to stuff Alpine back in. “Of course, thank you. I...appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky leaves the room in a stupor, the world sharply shifted to the left as he heads to the front desk to make the follow-up appointment, but not before hearing the whispered, “Girl, you’re lucky. He’s fine!” and the “He is, isn’t he?”.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you

473 notes · View notes

beardedmrbean · 3 years ago

Text

Democratic leaders want to crack down on Big Tech. Others in the party think it's too big of a risk.

Thoughts?

Submitted anonymously.

Just by the title alone I know it's going to be funny, gotta wonder how bad these bill have to be for them to actually have the self awareness that this legislation could cost them their seats. Makes me wonder why they'd vote for it in the first place if they know their constituents won't like it.

But let's see ___________________________________

A bipartisan legislative effort to rein in the nation’s largest tech companies is facing fresh resistance from a faction of Senate Democrats over complaints the measure could threaten their chances of holding their slim majority, 10 people familiar with the matter told POLITICO.

The internal opposition comes as Democratic leaders are pushing for a vote on the bill by summer, in an effort to pass what has become a central element of the party’s broader antitrust agenda.

The American Innovation and Choice Online Act, S. 2992 (117) — led by Sens. Amy Klobuchar (D-Minn.) and Chuck Grassley (R-Iowa) — would ban major tech firms like Amazon and Google from favoring their products over their competitors. For example, the legislation would bar Amazon from promoting its own private-label products over rival items on its e-commerce platform. The bill marks the most serious attempt at tightening oversight of the tech industry in years and passed the Senate Judiciary Committee with support from both parties earlier this year.

Yet in the days since Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer told Klobucharhe would hold a floor vote as early as next month, several Democratic senators have privately expressed deep reservations about voting for the legislation, particularly with a midterm election looming, in their conversations with Schumer and other Democratic offices.

Tech lobbyists have claimed the bill could harm popular products like Amazon Prime or Google Docs. And among vulnerable lawmakers, there’s growing concern that the sweeping legislation is too contentious for an election year and would eat up valuable time Democrats should instead be spending addressing voters’ core concerns.

“We should be focused on items that will help consumers deal with rising costs,” said one Senate aide who criticized the legislation as a “pet project” with little political payoff. “Nobody can quite figure out why it would be a priority.”

On a caucus-wide call held with Democratic chiefs of staff last week, Marc Goldberg, chief of staff to Sen. Maggie Hassan (D-N.H.), was among a handful of senior aides who raised objections,five people familiar with the matter said. They and others spoke on condition of anonymity to discuss off-the-record conversations. Hassan is up for reelection in a highly competitive race this fall, and Goldberg cited the tech antitrust bill as an example of a potentially controversial vote that senators shouldn’t be forced to take just months out from the midterms.

His remark sparked a tense back and forth with Klobuchar’s chief of staff, Doug Calidas, who defended the bill and argued that the legislation would help, not hurt, reelection prospects for senators in swing states. A poll released this week showed about 76 percent support for the American Innovation and Choice Online Act among a random sample of voters in Georgia, New Hampshire, Nevada and Arizona. Several other recent polls have shown that voters are largely supportive of regulating the tech companies, though they often do not prioritize the issue above concerns like inflation and job loss.

A few others on the call, including the acting chief of staff to Sen. Michael Bennet (D-Colo.), who is also up for reelection this year, echoed concerns about Democrats’ legislative agenda ahead of the midterms, though not all directly criticized the antitrust bill.

Supporters of the legislation chalked up the last-minute anxiety from vulnerable Democrats to lobbying by the major tech companies, which have spent tens of millions of dollars campaigning against the bill.

“Anytime a corporate accountability bill gathers steam, the concern trolling heats up and some members try to block a vote because they don’t want to alienate powerful companies,” said Dan Geldon, former chief of staff to Sen. Elizabeth Warren (D-Mass.) — who has led the push to break up the largest tech companies. “But the idea that a popular bipartisan bill like this would hurt any of the re-elects doesn’t pass a straight face test. The polling is incredibly clear on that.” __________________

Whole lot more to go there, but that's ok. Looks like my first impression was incorrect it's not that they think the vote will hurt them it that they want showy things to go through it would appear.

They want to do something like Omar is doing

Rep. Ilhan Omar urges lawmakers to extend MEALS Act to feed children (school lunch vouchers and such)

Wish last year had been an election year then congress might have cared enough to extend the eviction moratorium.

But I digress, back to the point.

This looks like a bill that should be easy to get passed, people on both sides of the aisle are backing it so it should go fast and there's no really good reason why they should skip out on it.

Unless they think that going in on something the Republicans like too makes them look bad, but then it's good to get them out of office anyhow.

Should vote the way you feel is best for your district party be damned sometimes.

#submission #anonymous

10 notes · View notes

fockfjdkfncnfn · 4 years ago

Text

Quite the ride | Luke Hemmings smut

summary: it’s a normal day and you didn’t have much plans except for dropping off some overdue books at the library. on the way, you decide to stop by at a cafe and you meet Luke there for the first time. you hit it off really well and on a cute date with him to a carnival and then things escalate.

warnings: unprotected sex, sex on the first date, oral uhmmm yeaaaa

requested: YES!! this is my first request from one of my friends i’ve just made here on tumblr! <3 their @ is @lukeshemmo. they write too so go check their stuff out!

word count: 3125

A/N: hiii!! thank y’all so much for 36 notes on my first smut!!!! i was really shocked to see so many people had read it and liked and tevloghed and stuff so thank you so much and i hope you enjoy this one <3 remember, requests are open to feel free to leave some!

ps. the book/cafe names i used in this are random ones that i just found in google lolol okay enjoy!

——————————————————————————

It was a chilly winter morning and you were woken up by the sounds of your bed creaking as you were rolling over. You fluttered your eyes open and looked out the window to see the frost on the corners of your windows and the slightest bit of sunlight shining through the tree branches outside. “So cold” you whispered to yourself as you reached your arm out from under your warm blanket to grab your phone. as you took the charger out from your phone, you saw the screen light up, showing a reminder you had set for yourself the night before so that you could see it first thing in the morning. “Return books to the library,” it said. annoyed, you groaned and set your phone down beside you. You secretly wanted to stay in bed all day because of how chilly it was, but you knew that if you didn’t take the books back today you’d have to pay for it.

With that thought in mind, you sat up and stretched your arms above your head and planted your feet on your cold hardwood floors, and made your way into the kitchen. You wanted to have a quick and simple breakfast since you weren’t feeling too hungry, so you settled on a bowl of cereal.

you grabbed out a white bowl and poured your cereal and milk into it, thinking about what else you could do for the rest of the day after returning the books. You sat down at your kitchen island and started to eat. as you were eating, you scrolled through Instagram on your phone and an ad caught your attention.

“Groundup cafe! grand opening happening today downtown! Come visit and enjoy some fresh, deliciously made coffee”

“That sounds interesting,” you thought to yourself as you ate another spoonful of cereal. You did some more research to see where the cafe was located and noticed that it was only a couple of minutes away from the library you were going to. “Maybe I’ll go after'' you thought to yourself as you finished the last of your cereal and put the bowl in the sink.

You made your way into the bathroom and took a quick shower and brushed your teeth. You wrapped your hair up in a towel and one around your body then walked out to go to your closet. “Hmm what should I wear?’ You thought to yourself. Outside it was lightly snowing, so you decided that layering up would be a good idea. You decided to wear some cream white corduroy jeans, a black turtleneck and a short black puffer jacket with some high top docs. For makeup, you didn’t wanna go too heavy since it was a cold snowy day, so you just did some foundation and mascara. To finish the look off, you dipped your ring finger into a pot of tinted pink lip balm and spread it across your lips to give them some life, and used the residue left on your finger to spread on your cheeks to bring some color back into your face. You dried your hair and curled it, put on some earrings and you headed out the door with a tote bag that had the books in it.

Since the cafe was on the way to the library, you decided to stop by there first and maybe get a drink since your hands were numb from the cold wind.

When you arrived, you put your hand out to grab the cold copper door handle and pushed it to make your way in.

You were greeted with the smell of coffee and the sound of people talking amongst themselves, not to mention the noticeable temperature change in the atmosphere which was comforting. You went up to the counter and looked up to see what drinks they had on the menu. Your thoughts were interrupted when the barista started talking to you.

“Hi! What can I get ya?” They said with a cheery smile on their face.

You shifted your eyes slightly down to meet theirs and as you opened your mouth to respond, you suddenly got pushed, and then you felt hot coffee run down the arm of your jacket. “Fuck” you said with an annoyed tone. as you tried to use your other arm to wipe the coffee off of yourself, You looked up to see who had rudely bumped into you, but your rage quickly melted away when you were met with the most beautiful pair of blue eyes.

“I am so sorry,” he says with a sense of urgency in his voice. “I didn’t mean to, the person behind me was in a rush so I tried to move out the way and I accidentally bumped into you, let me go get some napkins for you and I'll buy you your drink,” he said as he quickly turned to get some napkins.

as he was walking away, you couldn’t help but notice his beautiful golden curls and also how tall he was which was one of your biggest turn-ons. confused at what had just happened, you quickly turn to the barista and say “I’ll just have a peppermint mocha please” with a soft smile and you sit down at the nearest table.

You see him walk towards you, drink and napkins in hand and a look of remorse on his face.

“I am so sorry for what happened back there,” he says as he gently places the drink in front of you and hands you the napkins. “Are you okay?” He asks

“Yeah, I'm okay. Thank you” you say as you take the napkins from his hands and try to wipe the already dried coffee off of your sleeve.

For a second it got a bit awkward because he was just standing there, but he gave you a little smile and glanced over to your bag which was open, putting on display the books you had in there.

“Is that the east of Eden??” He says as his face lights up with excitement

“Yea!!” You respond smiling and looking up at him.

He quickly sits down at the empty chair across from you and you both start talking about the book. He asks questions like “what's your favorite chapter?”, “who’s your favorite character?”, “do you like the ending?” And before you could even catch each other's names, you both noticed that the cafe which was full when you first arrived was now empty, the only other people occupying the space being the workers cleaning up the machines and floors.

“Woah, I didn’t even realize we had been talking for so long!” You say as you glance down at your phone to see the time.

“Yeah me too” says with a soft laugh.

“What was your name by the way?” He says, looking at you with his bright blue eyes

“Oh, its y/n” you say with a smile

“Well, I'm Luke,” he says, playfully offering a hand out to you for a handshake. “Nice to meet you, beautiful”

After those words fell from his lips, you could feel butterflies swarming your stomach and blood rushing to your cheeks.

“Nice to meet you,” you say giggling, taking his hand, and shaking it.

His grip was strong but caring. You knew that it was crazy to feel such a strong connection to a person you had met only a couple of hours ago but when the workers informed you both that they were closing, you just didn’t want to leave.

As you grabbed your bag and now empty coffee cup he stood up and asked,

“What are you doing tonight?’

It was like he read your mind and felt the connection too

“Nothing” you quickly blurt out

“There's this carnival happening tonight just across town, would you maybe want to go?” He said hesitantly with a shaky voice

“I'd love to!” you say, smiling up at him.

You both walk out of the cafe and he leads you to his car. As you were approaching his it, you saw the library that you needed to go to. The whole reason why you left your house in the first place, but this was much more important, you thought to yourself.

You hopped in his car and he drove the both of you to the carnival. It was dark now, still cold but not as windy and it wasn’t snowing anymore. You saw bright flashing neon lights, children running around with their families, and young couples going on their first dates. “what the hell am I doing,” you thought to yourself for a brief second. When he hopped out of the car, you watched as he made his way around to your side to open the door for you. As he did, you took the few seconds you had to yourself to process what was happening. You planned to go to the library today, met some random stranger who spilled coffee on you and now you’re going on a kinda date with him to this random carnival. “But how could I turn this down?” you thought to yourself “he’s my ideal type. I mean, he’s tall, handsome, has the most hair, we talked non stop for like four hours, it's hard to find a connection like that with anyo-'' your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the car door opening.

“The carnival awaits” he says holding the door for you and offering you a hand to help you get out

“Thank you,” you say giggling, taking his hand, and stepping out of the car.

The whole night was filled with laughter and youth as you both chaotically ran around the carnival like little kids and going on ride after ride. The connection between the two of you became stronger despite how little time you really had spent with each other. Everything was starting to quiet down and you both decided to finish the night off by going on the Ferris wheel. While waiting in the line, Luke turned to you and rest his hand on your shoulder

“I'll be back, I'm just gonna.. go to the bathroom” he said in a suspicious tone, a grin displayed on his face.

You didn’t think much of it and just waited in line till he got back. You had your hands behind your back, rocking back and forth from heel to toe smiling out of pure joy. You hadn’t felt this happy in a long time.

When it was finally your turn to go on this Ferris wheel, Luke just got back in time and you both hopped in and looked at the sky as it started moving, bringing you both closer to the stars.

“I had a really great night tonight,” Luke says with a soft smile.

“Me too” you say, returning the gratitude.

You felt the butterflies emerge again as the ride stopped. you were now both at the top of the Ferris wheel and looking into each other's eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks with a soft and gentle tone

Without any thought, you leaned in to connect your lips to his and as they did, you felt sparks going off in your heart. your hands gently cupped his jaw as his hands gently wrapped around your waist. as you break away from the kiss, you both look at each other for a second and giggle.

“This is crazy” you say giggling, still cupping his face

“I know,” he says laughing. He looks down and away for a second and his eyes shoot back up at you.

“Would you possibly wanna come to my place?” He asks, looking at you with the eyes of a puppy

“Sure” you say softly, smiling.

The Ferris wheel eventually started moving again and you slowly felt the grass under your feet again. He helps you out and instead of letting your hand go, he keeps it there, and your fingers intertwine.

“Wait, before we go,” he says. “I have a surprise for you”

Confused, you look at him with furrowed eyebrows. “A surprise?’ You say.

He unties his fingers from yours and reaches around his back and pulls out a rose.

“For you” he says

You look at him, mouth slightly open realizing that when he was going to the “bathroom” he was really going to go buy you a rose. You stood there saying nothing because of how sweet this gesture was. He playfully turns around to see the flashing colourful lights.

“The lights are interesting than this flower?” He says jokingly

you laugh. “No!! I just, this is so sweet” you say. “Thank you” you say quietly as you take the rose from him.

“Of course y/n'' he says. You liked the way your name rolled off his tongue. It just sounded right.

When you finally leave the carnival and make it to his house, he opens the door and moves aside so that you can walk in first. His house felt warm and welcoming, despite the fact that you had never been there before.

“This is my home!” He says smiling as he shuts the door behind him.

“It's beautiful” you say in admiration, looking around.

“Not as much as you” he says as he walked towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips crashed onto yours and your hands wandered around his broad back. As you were making out, he picked you up so that your legs were wrapped around him and you giggled into the kiss as he carried you to his bedroom. Once he was there, he set you down gently onto his bed, using his arms to support you on the way down, and kissed your forehead once you had landed.

“Is it okay if I take your shirt off?” He asked with a soft and loving voice

“Of course” you say smiling, knowing what was about the unfold

He started kissing your neck and making his way down to your breasts and you quickly unhooked your bra and tossed it to the side. He wrapped his lips around your left nipple while his hand cupped the other. You let out a small whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around your nipple. You felt his other hands move from your waist slowly down to your core, stopping just above your pussy as if to ask for permission. He looked down to see where his hand was and looked back up at you. you nodded, letting him know that this was something that you were okay with.

He moved down so that his face was now in-between your legs and he unbuttoned your pants. You bucked your hips to help him pull them down along with your underwear, leaving you now completely exposed.

“God you’re so beautiful” he whispered before diving in to eat you out

Your breath hitched as you felt his lips wrap around your clit and his tongue swirl around, making you become even wetter for him.

“Ugh, right there” you moaned out as you tangled your fingers through his hair and moved your hips to match his movements. He moaned into you, making you feel the vibrations.

He inserted a finger into you making you squirm in pleasure.

“Fuck” you say as he pumps in and out of you.

“I'm close” you say as you throw your head back onto the sheets.

After he hears that, he stops, and before you can complain, he crashes his lips onto yours, forcing you to taste yourself. He moaned as he rubbed his bulge against your body.

“You're such a tease,” you say with a grin as he breaks away from the kiss.

he giggles and quickly takes off his shirt, along with his jeans and boxers exposing his length that was extremely hard.

“Need a little help with that?” You say as you stand up and go on your tippy-toes to kiss him. You loved how tall he was compared to you. you watch as he sits down on the bed and you situate yourself between his legs and get on your knees. You lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip and he lets out a moan which makes you want him so bad.

“Fuck it, just get on top of me” he says, lust-filled in his eyes as he looks at you with a hungry expression.

You’re quick to follow his orders and stand up and get on the bed, your knees now on either side of his body.

you lower yourself onto his length and you both moan out in pleasure. You start rocking back and forth feeling him inside of you.

“Fuck y/n yes, don’t stop” Luke moans as he grabs your hips to help you move with him.

“Holy fuck” you moan out as you continue to move your hips faster. You start to lean forward, placing your hands on his chest and he bucks his hips up and down to pump into you.

“Oh my god Luke” you moan shakily as he roughly thrusts into you, getting the perfect angle to hit your g spot.

“Rub your clit for me baby” he moans and you do as you're told.

The feeling starts to become overwhelming and you could feel your walls tightening around him. you felt your high coming and you knew that you were close.

“I'm close Luke” you moan out breathlessly as you continue to rub your clit and feel Lukes long and thick length pump in and out of you.

“Just hold on a little longer” he moaned out as he started to thrust into you even faster.

He moved his hands from your hips to your back and flipped you over and pounded into you

“Fuck Luke” you moaned with each thrust. He loved hearing his name fall from your lips.

“I can’t hold on much longer” you barely manage to say as you were trying not to cum before him

“Cum with me beautiful”

That's all it took for you to let go. You moaned out his name, making it echo in the room. He came with you moaning out in pleasure and satisfaction. He sloppily thrust into you so that you could both ride out your highs and then flopped down next to you.

Once you caught your breath, you turned to see his beautiful face and you reached your hand out to move a curl out of his face so that you could get a better view.

“Out of all the rides we went on today, you were the best” you say giggling into his neck

“It definitely was quite the ride” he says as he wrapped you in his arms.

#5 seconds of summer smut #5sosfam #5sos #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmo #luke hemming imagines #luke hemmings #luke hemmings fanfic #calum thomas hood #calum fanfiction #michael clifford smut #calum hood smut #luke hemmings blurb #5sos imagine #ashton irwin smut #ashton 5 seconds of summer #michael clifford

207 notes · View notes

pinencurls · 4 years ago

Text

“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

Hiii so this is my entry to @stellarboystyles‘s three year anniversary fic challenge! I’ve been busy with getting ready for classes starting and balancing other stuff so I wrote it on and off for a week and a bit but I hope you all enjoy! Feedback is so so encouraged and appreciated <3

Here’s my masterlist of some other stuff I’ve written x

Enemies (more like friends but oops) to lovers, prompt 9 “I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”

14k+ :) Not read through sorry! pls let me know of any mistakes and I’ll correct them <3 (also i k n o w the title's bad but i couldn’t think of anything, pls feel free to leave any recs.)

- - - -

It isn’t that I hate Harry. He just makes me feel...insecure. He’s never said or done anything directly but it’s hard to feel good about yourself when all your closest confidants seem to compare you to somebody else, somebody they so clearly hold higher above you. There wasn’t a single day I could meet a mutual friend of mine and Harry’s and not have them sing his praises, and apparently everyone was a mutual friend. I’ve known Julia and Theo for years, we all met in uni when they first started going out but it wasn’t until a year ago that I somehow ended up finding myself a regular within the friendship group they’d formed when they both went into the music and fashion industries. They had ties everywhere and after a pure coincidence of running into them and their circle at a pub, almost all my weekends were spent in various art galleries or new restaurants owned by somebody’s cousin or the guy they met last night at a Fleetwood Mac concert.

I’d met Harry about five months into hanging out with the group. He’d known them a lot longer than I had, weaving his way into the little pockets of interesting people for years since the x factor. I was busy with work the first few times he was in town but after a while, Nick, the persistent party planner of the group who always managed to wrangle us together, insisted that I just had to meet him. . . . . .

Eleanor’s house is huge and buzzing with hundreds of strangers. I cling to Julia and Theo’s side, Nick and Eleanor are nowhere in sight - most likely playing host or drinking too much chardonnay in another corner of the house. These four are the only people I can say I really know here, sure there are a few familiar faces on the dance floor, either from having met them at any of Eleanor's past elaborate parties or just because of they’re not so subtle fame. That’s another thing, all the people sipping wine and dancing around me are fairly...well known. Either just within the industry or to the general public too, they’d all gain fairly high status. It was a fluke really that I got on so well with Julia when we first met on a fashion course in uni.

Julia had big goals, all of which she was on track to fulfil, that conflicted slightly with mine. Her goals consisted of runway show models clad in designer brands she might one day contribute to whereas mine were more...anti, that whole world. It took a few years to find a steady footing but eventually, I was proud of where I’d ended up: a comfortable little cubby in the fashion and sustainability columns of a handful of independent magazines. After a few nights out with Julia, I was pleasantly surprised to find her shared interests and solidarity in my work and ambitions of her own within the same ideology. But whilst that’s all well and good, I’m still very much the small indie journalist that slips through the cracks when it comes to small talk at these kinds of events. It became apparent pretty quickly that my latest articles on how fast fashion had begun its destruction of a liveable environment in developing countries weren’t as relevant or interesting to the people promoting Prada and Calvin Klein as the next met gala theme.

“Do you want another drink?” Theo asks from beside me, pulling my focus from my scan of the room.

“No thanks..I’m good.” I murmur, debating how long I have to stay before I can slip out and feel a little less awkward around all the people I have no clue how to talk to. “Think I’m gonna head off actually..”

“Look I know you hate networking, but this is just a chill get-together yeah?” Theo chuckles, squeezing my shoulder before taking another sip from his gin and tonic. “We’re in the same boat about these snooty things but tonight’s not like that, relax a bit will ya.”

Theo works mostly with small-time music artists, producing debut albums and such so we share the same deep discomfort for the many events we often find ourselves at. It’s how we got close really, week after week we’d trail behind Julia as she strikes up conversations with Hollywood elite...and he always makes getting piss drunk in someone’s pool house exceptionally fun.

Before I can further any excuses about getting home to start on the legitimate and ever-growing pile of work deadlines on my desk, a tall man in far too much Gucci to belong anywhere but in a room full of models and artists makes a beeline straight from the bar to our awkward party.

“Harry!” Theo shouts, embracing the slightly tipsy man in a hug he reciprocates.

“It’s been too long mate, how ‘ave you been?” Harry cheers, leaning back from the hug and grinning down at his friend.

“I’ve been good - busy, enjoying the free bar as always.” Theo jokes, motioning between his and my matching G and T’s. Harry’s eyes wander up from the drink, realisation dawning on his face as he smiles again.

“Ah and you must be the famous Olivia,” He reaches his hand out to mine and shakes it lightly. “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself, ‘m Harry, it’s good to finally meet you, love.”

“Likewise.” I smile, trying to suppress the blush his words of endearment tease. I can’t deny the natural charm and charisma everyone always talks about now that it’s hitting me straight on. There’s something about the way he doesn’t hesitate to hold eye contact just that little bit longer that makes the room go still for just a second. He’d got it down to a T.

“Aww I see you two have finally met!” Nick interrupts. My hand falls from Harry’s grip as he’s welcomed into another hug. “About fucking time as well, been trying get this one to take a night off for weeks!”

“I literally came out with you last Thursday!” I counter, not missing the smirk setting on Harry’s face as he watches Nick and I’s back and forth. “And the Saturday before, come to think of it I’m always out with you Nicky.”

“Not when Harry’s in town though n’ that’s a different kinda night.” Nick laughs, his beer sloshing slightly in his free hand as his other remains draped over Harry’s shoulders.

That was maybe the first sign of my slight resentment for Harry. All night I wandered around with Theo hearing little bits of conversations, all surrounding the star of the party. I understood this wasn’t his doing, his humility was clear in every one of his bashful attempts to turn the conversation away from his growing achievements and onto literally anything else. He was, however, a self-proclaimed narcissist. Every time somebody would swoon over him and insist he stay the topic of conversation, a smirk tugged at his lips and stayed there as he consumed the endless and animated praise from almost all the party guests.

I’d expected some of his qualities to be untrue, learning from the past never to believe blindly of someone’s pure character when you didn’t truly know them. Especially when they frequented the gossip columns. But it wasn’t him so much, he was true to his motto of kindness and courteous even as people fawned over him, it was more the attention that surrounded him. As the night went on it became clear what Nick meant even if he didn’t know it himself. A night out with Harry was different because everyone made sure to capitalize off how different he made them feel.

. . . . .

“Can I get you anything else M’am?” The young waitress asks as she clears up my empty mug and saucer. My eyes falter a little as they adjust from the blue light of my laptop I’ve been staring at for the last twenty minutes.

“Um- oh please could I just get a refill?” I ask.

“Sure thing - mint tea right?” She smiles, adjusting the mug in her hands to make a quick note.

“Yeah..s’perfect - thank you.” She’s gone before she hears my delayed gratitudes, definitely used to the throngs of bemused writers tapping away at their laptops for hours.

I turn back to my open google doc. So far it’s written in two parts I have no idea how to connect and my senseless rereading hasn’t resulted in any legitimate progress in almost an hour. I’d accept the rut I’m stuck in and work on something else for the day if I didn’t only have the day. Last night had been filled with plans of settling in early and finishing the last two thousand words on an upcoming sustainable clothing brand. That all went out the window of course as my phone buzzed off the kitchen counter with Nick’s insistence of yet another night out to celebrate ending the work week - his was quite different to mine. It was easy to ignore the persistent beeping of my phone as new texts and call notifications popped up every three minutes, but less so when the rhythmic bursts of noise were replaced by knocks on my front door.

Within 40 minutes of opening it to Nick in a silk shirt and jeans too skinny for someone pushing thirty, I was two drinks in and dancing to Blue DeTiger with a pair of hands on my waist that I didn’t entirely recognise. It was just the six of us: Me, Nick, Ellie, Theo, Julia and Harry.

He was hard to ignore, not that I was trying particularly hard. On the drive over, the limited backseat space in Nick’s car and close proximity had practically forced me into his lap. Even with thighs pressed tightly against each other, we hardly talked, a few polite hellos here and there and then silence as we listened to Eleanor recall her latest night with whichever blonde bassist was her ‘soulmate’ that week. The whole ride over, Harry kept his hands on the thigh closest to the door and leant his shoulders the same way as to touch me as little as possible - which was still quite a lot considering the packed five seater pushing seven passengers. It was fairly common knowledge we weren’t close and I got the feeling he wasn’t too keen on me, but he could at least not act like touching me would be the worst thing ever.

As the night went on he clung to Theo, ever the cuddly drunk, and I stayed more to the pleasant stranger I’d found on the dance floor.

No meanest was ever intended between us but I couldn’t help but watch the kindergarten like bitterness grow as everyone just loved him. We couldn’t go anywhere without a crying fan or two approaching the sweet and smiling man who always answered their questions affectionately and hugged them goodbye. The times he was out of town were always filled with comments about his absence, as if none of us were good enough without his added presence. I couldn’t help but wonder why they even bothered to bring me into their little group. The lack of closeness between Harry and I felt almost like a lack of closeness to the group as a whole, despite how much my individual friendships with everyone advanced.

Just as I thank the waitress - Alice, her name tag read, and take the first sip of my third tea (I had to switch after a particularly strong starter coffee) I notice a familiar man out the corner of my eye looking just as rough as me. Of course he’s wearing it better than I am.

Harry collects a drink from the counter and bows his head slightly in thanks, turning and catching my eye just as he’s on his way out. He waves with his free hand and shoots me a candid smile before making a quick change in direction towards my small table.

“Long time no see,” He pulls the chair opposite me out a little as he chuckles at his own joke. He perches lightly, temporarily. “How’ve you been?”

“A little hungover, I won’t lie..” I laugh, surprised by the whole encounter. “You?”

“Same, I might have had a shot or two too many,” I nod knowingly and shut my laptop softly. He sips what smells like coffee before going on. “Are ya workin? Sorry to interrupt.”

“Oh no- I mean I am but it doesn’t matter really, ‘ve kinda hit a dead end.” His eyes hover, waiting for me to go on. “I was gonna get it done last night but Nick had other plans..”

“Yeah Nick’ll do that to you,” He laughs, “What’re you writing ‘bout?”

He leans slightly forwards, holding eye contact and shuffling comfortably into his chair.

“Oh just this promotional piece on a new company, they’re hiring young women and training them to make these handmade clothes. They’re paying them above minimum wage and focusing on sustainability so this editor I’ve written for before offered me it.” I’m not really sure how sincere he is in his curiosity, he always seems to have time to listen when Julia has a new design plan or Theo’s found a new artist but that’s different really. I stop before I start to ramble, just in case.

“That’s so cool, what kinda stuff are they making?” He prompts, resting his chin on his fist, imitating the posture of an eager little kid.

“They've started stocking stuff by other independent artists but mostly dungarees and these cool cord trousers, they’d suit you actually, even got some 70s style ones.” Now that the two worlds are colliding in my head, I can’t help but imagine Harry in a pair of their forest green cords, the wide legs would almost bury his vans but a part of me is pretty sure he’d love them.

“Thanks, if they come at your recommendation I might have to get my hands on a pair,” He smiles, his tone’s a lot different to the usual polite cheer, it’s difficult to place where it’s landed before he’s talking again. “Reminds me of that show you took us to with the upcycled clothes, all those dungarees made of old quilts - remember?”

It’d been a small exhibit just outside of London I’d mentioned offhandedly and somehow ended up showing everyone around. It was nice to have them all in my world for an evening. Marcus, a friend of mine from college, had put it together and created a lot of the pieces. He and the others I’d met through my work were fairly shocked to say the least when Harry Styles came traipsing through the doors behind me. All night he quietly asked Nick questions, to which Nick only responded by motioning towards me and wandering off to the bar.

“I do - I’m surprised you do to be honest.” It slips before I can decide if it sounds passive aggressive or not. To be fair, it had been a surprise to me, meeting everyone at the train station and watching Harry and Nick scramble out a taxi and run towards us. He’d been dressed in proper gallery attire and seemed genuinely thrilled to be joining in on the rare night I actually played host.

“Course I do, it was a good night...I’d choose it over Nick’s tequila Tuesdays anyday.” His phone buzzes on the table, a text popping up in green. “Oh I- my manager’s waiting sorry.”

A sheepish smile is accompanied by a loose arm movement towards the door where, out on the street, I see Jeff. He’s shaking his head and motioning for Harry to hurry up. Had Harry sat down to talk to me whilst his manager had been waiting this whole time?

“It was good running into you, good luck with it all,” He stands. “See you friday yeah?”

I’d totally forgotten about his “Whenever I’m in town Friday film night.” until he mentioned it. I’d been twice in the past and stayed quietly to my corner of the sofa, only watching as everyone else laughed at whatever romcom had been chosen that night.

“I-maybe.” He shakes his head as I smile, not quite ready to commit a whole evening to watching Nick raid Harry’s wine cellar.

“You better, I’m gonna need to hear more ‘bout those cords.” He points his hand in a kind of joking reprimand/wave before he’s gone back down the aisle of tables to the door where Jeff ruffles a hand through his hair and laughs when his hands fly to fix the now birdnest of brown curls.

I open my laptop back up, skimming over the last few lines I wrote to get myself back on track. I take a sip and my tea’s gone cold.

. . . . .

“Are you coming to Harry’s tonight?” Eleanor asks down the phone, her voice chipper as she no doubt raids her closet.

“Maybe, I don’t know..I’ve got this deadline Monday morning that I’m nowhere near meeting.”

“Come on Liv, we haven’t seen you all properly together since last month, and last week doesn’t count it was too loud to actually talk!” She chimes in, the sound of clothes being tossed to the floor clear in the distant background. “Have you got a problem with Harry or something?”

“No Elle, of course I don’t-”

“Then why do you guys never talk? You hardly come with us when he’s around and when you do you barely even say hello.” Eleanor complains, she’s mentioned it in the past but it’s been easy to blow off with excuses of how busy he usually was making his way around the room to greet everyone or how we just hadn’t known each other that long and weren't particularly close yet.

“I just...I don’t know, I don’t think he likes me very much.” I pause. I still haven't decided what last Saturday was in the cafe. “We’re not really close and I’d prefer not to spend another night listening to people tell him - and everyone else - how great he is.”

“You’re saying that like he’s some arrogant twit, if you came out with us more you’d see what he’s really like around his friends. Or you know, you could actually talk to him when we’re together and see that he’s not a dick?”

It was a fair point. I haven’t made much of an effort over the past year to spend any time with him outside of larger gatherings or to have genuine conversations with him that went past the weather or a new jacket one of us had on. Maybe he really is a good guy away from all the pretentious crowds and watchful eyes he usually called to our group. He’d certainly seemed different in the quiet Saturday surroundings of Blondies Coffee Roasters in between sips of coffee.

“Okay, okay yeah I’ll see you there.” We hang up a couple of minutes later and I’m left alone in my kitchen again.

. . . . .

“Hey!” Harry cheers as the door swings open to reveal him in yet another pair of flared pants that hung comfortably around his waist. “Come in, come in.”

We all pile in through the doorway as he steps aside. Arms weaving through each other as we hang coats and jackets and Julia passes Harry the fruit platter she’d made (and scolded us all for picking at on the drive over.)

“Oh very appropriate,” Harry laughs as he uncovers the tray to reveal an array of sliced watermelon, strawberries and grapes, He sets the fruit down on the table in the lounge for us all to eat and shakes his head lightly. I look up at Julia for an explanation but she’s too busy claiming the comfiest loveseat for the night. “I’m never telling you anything again, Jules.”

Julia and Harry tease each other for a moment more until Theo catches my confused stares and laughs to himself.

“Harry wrote a song ‘bout fruit- another one actually,” Theo starts, tucking himself beside Julia and letting her take over before he can finish. “S’not just about fruit though is it H?”

Harry blushes slightly and settles his glare on Julia as he carries six wine glasses through to the table.

“‘S about watermelon, it just has some..” He clears his throat as he fumbles for his next sentence. “Other themes to it too.”

“As if mate,” Theo’s laughter booms, “ Basically Liv, he wrote this new song the other day all about how much he loves to-”

“Watermelon!” Harry yells, pointing an accusatory finger at Theo. “S’all about how much I love watermelons...I’m a fruit guy.”

“Oh are we talking about the pussy song?”

All heads snap round to see Nick, obviously having let himself in and now chuckling softly to himself as he leans against the archway into the room.

“Oh sorry H, were you tryna give an interview answer?”

Harry just slaps his palm over his eyes and lets his shoulders shake for a minute before he bounces back to host mode.

“Okay!” I can’t help but notice how flushed the tips of his ears are as he claps his hands together, desperately trying to move on from the conversation. “Who wants wine?”

Fifteen minutes later everyone is settled onto the sofas with an array of throws between us and a layout of fruits, crisps and other mid rom com snacks that make me feel bad I left my flat in too much of a hurry to remember anything but hummus.

“Okay - Sixteen Candles, When Harry Met Sally or Mamma Mia?” Nick calls out, waving the tv remote above his head to get everyone's attention. An outpour of votes follows - you’d think between only six of us we’d be able to sort out a process by now but still we fall into momentary anarchy as the room divides.

“Mamma Mia is a classic!” Eleanor protests as Nick’s shaking his head.

“And Billy Crystal isn’t?” He yells back, eyes wide and genuinely offended.

“Colin Firth is arguably more iconic, Nick really, come on.” Theo sighs. He accepts the high fives Ellie and I reach out to him and saluts us both.

“We’ve all seen Mamma Mia before though, we’ve never watched When Harry Met Sally all together,” Julia points out, winning a smirk and nod of approval from Nick.

There’s a beat of silence while Nick weighs up the votes in his head. He tilts to the side slightly and eyes Harry up, our gazes following.

“Harry?”

“Ellie?”

“Come on, you’ve got the last vote here, and I know how much you like Meryl.” Nick gasps a little, the mention of Meryl Streep as a wager to win Harry over to his opposing team was definitely foul play in his eyes.

“Yeah but he loves When Harry Met Sally...and he is a narcissist..” Julia offers into the debate, a few snickers follow her comment before we all turn to look at Harry. We’re all already half a glass in but I could swear for just a moment his eyes lingered over me, fluttering down to my smile before turning back to announce his decision to Nick.

“I’m afraid I am in the mood for a bit of Abba,” Cheers and not so subtle murmurs of frustration fill the lounge as Nick scrolls through the Romance bar on Netflix before clicking on the film of just over half of our choosing.

Everyone goes quiet as the film starts, breaking out into bursts of song only as the cast does. From the conversation in the car, it’s pretty clear everyone has just been through a pretty tiring week. We all tended to pile our workload a little heavy so it was always nice to escape for a few hours at the weekend and relax together.

Just as Voulez-vous plays through the room, a slightly tipsy Nick leans into Harry to serenade the singer with his own rendition. The duo sway slightly, both narrowly avoiding Nick’s wild limbs before there’s a crash and Harry’s cursing.

“Oh- H, Sorry!”

Nick’s wine glass that’d been balanced on the coffee table in front of him moments before now lays on its side. The, luckily white, wine trickles down onto the rug but most noticeably splashes into Harry’s lap. I’m not entirely sure how he managed it, it must have flown forwards when it was knocked but Harry quickly stands to access the damage.

“I’m so sorry Harry I-”

“Don’t worry mate, I’m just gonna go change and toss these in the wash..could you wipe that up for me?” Nick nods, looking a little less cheerful and a lot more guilty now as Harry makes it way out the room. He calls behind him: “Keep watching I’ll only be a second!”

Nick finishes wiping down the table and rug just as Harry jogs back into the room. I don’t mean to and I’m never one to check people out..unless very subtly, but I can’t help but let my eyes linger a little.

He’s still in his plain tee but instead of his fancy pants he’s found some soft wash denim jeans. The whole look paired with his thick rimmed glasses and how his hair's gotten tousled about by Nick throughout the night just made him look so...ordinary. Not in any bad way, anyone who met Harry knew he could never be ordinary, no matter how casual he dressed, but something about seeing him abandon the more dressed up looks and go for the comfortable option just made him seem different.

In a second his green eyes are complimenting the look too as he gazes down at me.

“Hi,” He mouths, nobody’s taken much notice of his return, yet another musical number taking everyone’s attention. It’s my turn to blush a little now. I avert my eyes quickly, anywhere really, before sneaking a quick look up at him to smile back.

Ellie had helped Nick in the “For fucksake save Harry’s rug it probably costs more than your car” mission and had stolen the seat beside him after they were done. It slipped my mind until Harry set the new bottle of wine on the table and sunk down into the space beside me, He curls one leg underneath him and slips me one more smile before turning back to the screen just as Donna and Sam start singing SOS.

. . . . .

“Ah shit, I think I left my book!” I curse just as we make it down the road to Julia’s car. Parking was shit so by the time we found a spot we’d ended up a good 15 minutes away from Harry’s house. “You guys go on, I’m only round the corner anyway.”

Theo and Julia were familiar with my stubbornness so let me go, yelling their goodbyes after a few hugs as they drove away, Ellie and Nick do the same as they clamber into a taxi. I turn quickly in the chilly air and make my way back down the street to Harry’s drive, punching in the familiar code at his gate before running up to the door hastily.

It was open - as always, so I let myself in. He was probably still cleaning the lounge up after we all got a little too tipsy.

“Hey it’s me...just left my book sorry!” I call down the hallway. It’s quiet despite the light Paul Simon playing in the distance so I make my way quickly to the sofas I’d spent most of the night on, praying to avoid an awkward run-in with Harry.

Although we’d actually shared some light conversation throughout the night and a handful of smiles, I’m not sure we’re quite at the stage in our friendship that me more or less breaking into his house wouldn’t be awkward to run into.

The lounge is empty when I get there. The side tables are still littered with wine glasses and tacky red rings on coasters but no Harry in sight. Or book for that matter.

I start pulling back the cushions carefully - god knows how much they cost. Despite scouring the one spot I’d pretty much clung to the whole night - incidentally beside Harry - I have no luck. Nick tossed the book back to me at some point in the night after reading it by my recommendation but knowing him it could have ended up anyway. I follow the breadcrumbs of our night down another hallway as I vaguely remember Nick talking about a certain plot twist as we searched Harry’s kitchen cupboards for the wine he’d sent us off to restock.

As I come around the white archway into his kitchen I catch a glimpse of him from around the kitchen island. He has his back turned to me but he’s leant forwards against a counter with ring covered fingers clutching the edge, a glass of amber liquid set slightly away from him.

“Oh, sorry I was just-” He jumps a little at my voice, turning quickly to face me with his now free hands coming up to hold his chest. When his eyes finally meet mine they’re red and it takes a second for him to register the tears still streaming from them before he replies.

“Shit, fu- what are you..are you alright?” His hands bat between tangling into his hair and wiping the tears from his cheeks, anything to avoid actually looking up at me again.

“Yeah, I just..um..left my book,” I mumble, taking a step closer to him when I notice how his hands shake as they move timidly around his face. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Uuuh um.” He wanders for a moment before slapping a palm lightly atop the counter and pulling out his infamous grin. “Nothing much, how bout you - find your book?”

“-Harry..” I take another step close, “I know we’re not, ya know..close. But you can talk to me.”

There’s a beat of silence when he keeps up the act, I’d almost believe it if it wasn’t for his bloodshot eyes and anxious fingers drumming against the tile.

“What’s wrong?”

He pauses for a moment, assessing whether or not to tell me whatever’s weighing so heavy on his shoulders. But the dam bursts.

“Fuckin’ everything Love” He laughs, rubbing his palms over his face. I try to focus on the matter at hand: Harry weeping in his kitchen. But that name’s only ever left his mouth directed at me a handful of times and it’s never made my stomach flutter quite as it did just now. “Just..Fuck I’m so lonely Olivia.”

I don’t really know any of the details but between conversation - mostly overheard, and the media frenzy, it was hard not to be aware of Harry’s break up two months ago. I can’t claim we were close enough to discuss it, having hardly ever talked beyond trivial issues, but I knew that despite them only being together two or so months, he’d been incredibly distant for the weeks that followed the break up.

“I hear about you and Aubre..I’m really sorry it didn’t work out for you guys-” Harry laughs almost, a pained sort of chuckle that told me I was way off with this one.

“It’s not..that isn’t why I..” He takes a deep breath before lifting his head up slightly to focus on where his fingers still tapped out a nervous beat on the counter. “I was lonely before her...and with her. I just, I can’t seem to get it right ever...feels like nobody wants to be with me for the right reasons.”

“Hey no..what about tonight? Your house was full of so many people who love you yeah? Maybe your bougie wine collection had something to do with it but still,” He laughs at that, peeking up from behind his fringe for just a moment. “They- we love you ‘k?”

“I know but, ‘clock hits the am and everyone leaves, it just gets...it gets so fucking lonely to see everyone in perfect pairs ya know?”

I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m doing it - my arms wrap over his shoulders and lock with a hand at the nape of his neck. We’ve never hugged before beyond a general greeting but anyone watching wouldn’t know it, his face burrows quickly into my shoulder and his arms cocoon over my waist, holding me tightly and slipping under the thick layers of my jacket.

“I know exactly what you mean, H.”

The hug lasts longer than I imagined it might. He smells of vanilla and the coffee he brought back in bulk from Jamaica. He lets out a shaky breath and melts further into me, nuzzling my neck softly with the tip of his nose. His curls are soft between my fingers and I find myself shhing him, lulling us both into a tired kind of calm.

Another moment passes in the silence of his kitchen before Harry lets out an awkward cough and straightens up, pulling out of our hold and immediately covering his face with his palms again.

“I..sorry Jules and Theo must be waiting for you..” Harry murmured, wiping the last of his tears away and letting his hands fall and fidget by his sides.

“Oh no don’t worry they..um they already went I was actually just gonna walk.” I tell him, making his head perk up a bit.

“Wha-It’s past twelve Liv it’s not safe, how far do you even live?” He clears his throat and his voice is clearer now, it feels like a whole different world to the one we were in just a minute ago.

“It’s fine honestly, only take like thirty minutes walking - I’ve done it before-” I ramble, eager to put this situation behind me before I embarrass myself anymore.

“No - let me drive you yeah?” Harry shakes his head, adamant.

“Harry..we’ve been drinking all night, I think that’s more dangerous than me jus’ walking.” I laugh, holding his gaze for a second longer than I usually would - fuck, how do we usually act around each other?

Before I come to a conclusion, his eyes rest heavy on mine and I can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to work his way out of this one. Ever the people pleaser.

“Then stay.”

“Harry-”

“You said you know how it feels.” He cuts in, unwavering now as he doesn’t let my eyes fall from his. “So stay …’s safer anyway.”

. . . . .

“I can take the sofa, really Harry I don’t mind,” I reassure as he tosses me an old t-shirt and joggers to sleep in. “It’s comfier than my bed anyway.

His guest bedrooms had just been painted and were still pretty fume filled so the sofa or his bed were the only options. For twenty minutes now he’s tried to convince me to take his bed and leave him on the sofa, despite the fact we both know he’s a little too tall to sleep without his feet hanging off the end.

“But you’re my guest!” He protests again, coming up from his wardrobe to stand in front of me, hand on hips and an expression of concern on his face.

“And you’re almost six foot!”

“Hey, I am six foot.” He takes a deep breathe, exhaling through his nose in defeat before speaking again. “Okay, you can sleep on the sofa but if anyone asks I was the perfect host and you bullied me into this.”

I laugh softly, this whole new side of Harry had never been directed solely at me before and it was honestly refreshing. Usually Nick or another friend was the target of his jokes and playful demeanor and I only noticed it from afar but now he was right in front of me, hauling pillows off his bed and sticking his tongue out when he caught me staring.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” He asks for the third time since I agreed to stay the night. We’ve just finished setting up the sofa to sleep on and despite the duvet and many quilts far more lush than my own actual bed, he seemed unconvinced it was enough.

“I’m sure” I sit back into the pile of blankets and pillows, tucking my feet underneath me and looking back up at Harry. “If you’re really not, just come watch a film with me and see how cozy it is.”

The quick change in dynamic was a lot smoother than I’d imagined. Within an hour of being alone together we’d already talked more than in all our past interactions, not to mention how close we’ve gotten. He only nods his head quickly and he’s settling under a quilt beside me, rummaging around for a controller to pull up netflix again.

“Mamma Mia two?” He asks.

I chuckle a bit and nod. At the beginning of the evening I hadn’t quite seen it ending in a Mamma Mia marathon with just me and Harry.

He presses play and as the opening display begins we both lean back into the sofa and pull the blankets up over us. It’s only in the quiet of the first few scenes that I notice we’re matching. We’re both dressed fully in his clothes, grey joggers and t-shirt - his rolling stones, mine fleetwood mac. And it all smells of him. I pull the blanket a little higher over my chest and the faint, but now familiar, scent of vanilla and coffee fills my lungs and for a second all I can focus on is how desperately I want to be in his arms again.

. . . . .

“-ow” A groggy voice mumbles from above me and I feel myself being pulled forwards slightly against something hard - and warm.

I’m a few seconds from falling straight back asleep before I feel the painful ache in the side of my neck. I reach a hand up to gauge my current situation and feel my fingers plunging into soft hair - soft hair that ends too soon to be mine.

“Hi..” I recoil my hand quickly back to my side and push myself up so I’m sitting slightly. I look down and see Harry, half asleep still and hand still resting on my side.

“Oh-hey sorry,” What do you say when you wake up beside the guy you barely knew but simultaneously had been incredibly vulnerable with just the night before?

Harry seems to be waking up now and certainly more aware of our predicament as he pulls his hand away from where it was holding firmly onto the material of my - his - t-shirt and pushes himself up to sit against the arm of the sofa.

“We must have fallen asleep..sorry I didn’t mean too, ya know…” His eyes flutter between where I sit opposite him and the “Are you still watching?” Netflix screen.

“It’s fine, accidents happen an’ everything.” I smile, slipping out from the warm cocoon of blankets to stand. “I’m just gonna wash up quickly and I’ll be out of you hair.”

Before I can rush off to tame my hair and hopefully find some toothpaste to rid me of my morning breath, Harry clasps his hand gently around my wrist and tugs slightly to get my attention.

“Not in a rush Love, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He says it effortlessly, like it was a regular occurrence for us to fall asleep cuddling on his sofa. He stands, groaning as his knees pop appreciatively and lets my hand go before he’s disappearing into the kitchen.

“Okay…” I murmur to myself. “....okay.”

. . . . .

Alice is back at my table with my second refill before 11am. I thank her and take a gulp of the fiery ginger tea before reading over the last three paragraphs I just wrote. The spice licks my tongue as I tip the cup up for a second sip; it’s autumn after all.

In the last two weeks September had slipped into October and all the trees in London had received the memo. I’d been busy, hoaled up in the quietest corner of Blondies the whole time with coffee filling all my senses. I haven’t seen everyone together since that night at Harry’s. I grabbed lunch with Eleanor the Monday afterwards and told her nothing, preferring to avoid the texts my phone amassed over the fortnight. I've turned down all proposed group activities and focused on work instead. To be fair, I do have a lot to get done. There were always seasonal pieces in my to do list and with the weather getting colder it was time I got to them before it was Christmas already.

I haven’t talked to Harry either. He made us pancakes with blueberries and maple syrup in the morning and we haven’t even texted since; I’m not sure that we even have a private text between us. Eleanor and Julia have told me how much fun they’ve all had the times I’ve politely but persistently declined, I can only assume Harry’s in the mix with them all. He’s in town for awhile if I’m remembering our breakfast chatter correctly, it makes sense that they’re all hanging out together really when they don’t often get time together. Ellie’s phone calls keep me from sliding into thoughts of how easily I could fall right out of the group and not be missed, at least. I was just taking space for work. The fact that most of my afternoons at the cafe disappeared into me analysing anything I might ever have felt or said to Harry means nothing at all.

Neither does the heightened pace of my heartbeat when he walks through the stiff wooden doors of Blondies.

He orders what I assume is his regular black coffee, scans the room for a second and lands directly on me. He hesitates a little to hold my gaze, turning his head to look outside before looking back at me and smiling. He thanks the server and takes a few quick steps towards me, weaving in between the packed tables to my little spot hidden away in the corner.

“Hi,” He smiles again, although his toneos overshadowed by a slight anxious hilt. “Can I sit?”

Nodding, I close my laptop and pull my tea closer to me to make a space for him.

“Hi.” He repeats, smiling a little sheepishly.

“Hi,” I wait a second, nervous to start when I’m so unsure of how this conversation has already gone in his head. But he doesn’t say anything so I push through and bite the bullet against my better judgement. “Look, about that Friday I-”

“Can I just-” He cuts me off, leaning forwards and opening his hands out as he mulls over his next few words. “I’m sorry if it was awkward at all, I didn’t mean for anything to happen and I thought we were fine an’ everything but then I haven’t seen you in two weeks and Ellie keeps saying you’re not comin’ out. Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh god no,” I hurry, “You didn’t do anything it was just - I didn’t expect to wake up..like that...and it was just a really quick change because we’ve never really been close and suddenly it was just, us, like that.”

He nods, pushing a loose curl back a second later that broke free in the motion. He seems understanding as he looks down before leaning his elbows against the table so only the two of us can hear what he’s about to say.

“I know, I didn’t expect it either but, can I just tell you I’m glad that it happened?” He leaves a three second pause for me to flounder in confusion before continuing. “What I told you, ‘bout feeling lonely, it messes with my sleep all the time. I just get stuck in my own thoughts but the night you stayed over I slept fine - perfect even.”

Not sure what else to do with this new information, I nod for him to continue.

“I know we’ve never been close, but hanging out with you just really calmed me down.” He smiles, gaining confidence now in his vulnerability tucked away in our little hiding place. “Thank you for staying.”

“I get what you mean.” I mumble, slightly anxious any of the busy customers with prying eyes could overhear my confession. “I never really know when to stop working and I think I got the best night sleep on your sofa I’ve had in awhile, which really speaks volumes about how crappy my mattress is.”

He chuckles. Relief seems to settle in as he lets his shoulders relax and face soften.

“I was thinking - especially now that I know it was good for you as well, maybe it could become more of a regular thing?” He asks, his forefinger and thumb pinch together and twist one of his rings a little - a nervous habit, I’m sure.

“How do you mean?”

“Like..when we all go out, maybe we go home together, you know - so we can sleep better.” He moves down to focus on the metal rose he’s still fumbling at. “If..if you don’t want to or you think it’d be weird it’s fi-”

“I’d like that.” I reach forwards to comfort him, absentmindedly cupping my fingers around his. “I think it’d be nice, to get a good night's sleep I mean.”

“I’m glad.” He beams.

“..That and you make a mean blueberry pancake.” I tease, earning a light chuckle from Harry.

Just like our last cafe encounter, the ping of a his phone beats me to my new few words. He checks it quickly, shaking his head and glancing down the large room to the shop front where, once again, Jeff waits. He seems a little more agitated this time, waving vigorously whilst trying not to attract the attention of passersby, all rather unsuccessfully.

“Bollocks okay - I’ve gotta go,” Harry swears, collecting his coffee from the table and pushing his chair back quickly. “I’ll just - we can text before we go out next yeah?”

“Cool, yeah - wait a sec, let me just give you my number.” I reach up for him to hand me his phone but he doesn’t make any effort to move, instead he blushes slightly and stares at the floor. “..What?”

“I um, I already have it.” He fiddles with the hair at the nape of his neck before talking again. It’s hard not to remember how it felt when it was my fingers carding through his brown curls. “I got it from Theo awhile back when we were going to this thing, felt weird not having it. I hope that..okay and everythin’”

I nod, smiling up at him. The idea of him having a part of me for this past year without me even knowing is oddly precious. The fact that he felt odd about not having my number and going to the effort of getting it from Theo was unbelievably endearing.

“That’s fine, helpful actually.” I smile still, “Text me before we meet everyone and we’ll make a plan or somethin’”

“Okay,” He smirks, his slight cocky nature reemerging. “Will do, Liv. See you soon?”

“See you soon.”

Jeff flies a hand up to his hair like before but this time is met with a grinning Harry who doesn’t seem to mind so much.

. . . . .

Unknown Number

‘Hey! Is tonight good? We can slip off after drinks at the gallery. H x’

I look down at my phone. Caught off guard by the sudden text, I’d almost forgotten out arrangement. Julia invited us all to a gallery opening of one of her friend's new exhibits. Even as I flicked through my wardrobe for the right jacket, I hadn’t put two and two together and realised I’d be seeing Harry again for the first time since our chat at Blondies four days ago.

I save his number and I think quickly, not wanting to leave him on read when he knew I’d be leaving to see them all any second and most likely spend the whole tube journey on my phone.

‘Hi :) That’d work for me yh, just let me know when you want to leave and I’ll make an excuse. Liv x’

With another thought rushing through my head, I send a quick follow up.

‘Can we keep this between us right now? Might be a bit tricky to explain to the others.”

Harry

‘Read my mind love.’

‘See you in a bit :)’

I’m still not the hugest fan of the airy feeling that rushed through my stomach as I read over the pet name. He was just from Manchester, it was normal up there to call everything by casually affectionate little names. It didn’t mean anything at all.

. . . . .

“Livia!” Nick calls out when he sees me scanning over the faces at the entrance to the gallery. I smile instantly and make my way over, quickly falling into his arms as he rocks us for a second. “Haven’t seen you in an age!”

“‘Ve been working, we can’t all piss about Monday to Friday.” I giggle, smiling wide as he murmurs something under his breath and plants a big kiss on my cheek. “Is everyone here?”

I try not to look suspicious when I peak over around us, trying to pick a certain brunette from the crowd.

“Yeah, they’re just over there with Julia’s friend.” Nick points and I see him immediately. He’s dressed just as I expected - half gucci half grandpa sweaters. “I’m gonna get us drinks, meet you there?”

“Mhmmm” I hum, breaking out of his hold and slipping through the crowds to our small group of friends.

“Hi!” Julia smiles brightly. She hugs me quickly before stepping aside to give Eleanor and Theo their turns. They all whisper quiet ‘Missed yous’ in my ear as if I’ve been gone for years.

“Hey,” Harry appears by my side as everyone else turns their attention to the front of the crowd where it looks like the artist is setting up to introduce the night. “How’ve you been?”

“In the last four days?” I chuckle, “Good. Not been sleeping great, but I’ve got a lot of work done so that’s been great.”

He nods approvingly. A smile tugs at his lips at the mention of sleep, almost like some secret inside joke we’ve managed to form between just the two of us.

“Me neither. Jeff’s been buggin’ me what feels like every hour with deadlines.” I find myself squeezing his hand a little under his long coat sleeves so nobody can see. “Looking forward to just collapsing tonight, if I’m honest.”

“Me too.” I smile tiredly, tonight had been a big ask come to think of it. I've had work piled up twice my height all week and even having worked day in and day out I’ve still only made a crack in the mountain of final edits and emails to respond to.

Harry squeezes my fingers back and our hands linger in each other's hold until Nick emerges beside us and the artist begins her speech.

. . . . .

The comfortable chatter surrounding the booth we’d taken up a few hours ago died down as the clock ticked later and later. We’d left the gallery a while ago now in favour of the after party at a pub down the road but by now the heavy scent of beers and various gin based concoctions were giving us all headaches.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night guys,” Harry announces, a slew of groans following from the group. “Sorry, sorry! It’s been great but it’s getting late.”

Julia and Theo move out the way to let him out the booth. He slides across the red cushion to stand, pulling his coat over himself as he sneaks a quick look at me.

“I think I’m gonna head off too,” I smile, waiting for Eleanour to stand and let me out as another wave of complaints flooded me. “Sorry! I’ve got work and the tube’ll be hell any later.”

“Well if Harry’s going too couldn’t he take you home?” Julia suggests, looking between the two of us as we now stand slightly away from each other. “You drove right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry turns to smile at me, amused clearly by how our plan was being unknowingly encouraged by our friends. “C’mon, I’ll drive yeh.”

I nod, biting back a smirk. We say our goodbyes and wave as we slip out the heavy pub doors out onto the road outside. It’s started to drizzle slightly and I resent choosing the jacket without a hood.

“I’m just over here,” Harry points a little ways off. “Hurry, think it’s about to pour.”

We walk quickly down the street and through a metal gate into a car park when there’s a loud rumble of thunder and immediately the rain thickens.

“Fuck!” Harry laughs as he scrambles for his keys, we match each other's paces until we’re practically sprinting to his car in the far corner of the lot. The click of the locks sounds out and his lights flash red a second before we’re both pulling the doors open and throwing ourselves inside onto warm seats.

We catch our breath, chests rising and falling with uneven pants before our laughter settles and Harry slots the keys into the ignition.

. . . . .

“Do you want anything to eat?” Harry asks as he closes his front door behind us and we kick out shoes off in his hall. “I think I have some takeout menus somewhere..”

“I’m not really hungry, thanks though,” I cut off his search as he walks through to his kitchen and starts opening draws. “Kinda just wanna go to bed now.”

He nods and rubs a hand under his eye in silent agreement of my exhaustion.

“I’ll make us a tea, meet you up there yeah?” He calls over his shoulder, having turned quickly to retrieve various packets from his cupboards. “Chamomile okay?”

“Yeah chamomiles good,” I hover for a second in the archway leading into the kitchen, suddenly awkward to be alone in his house again. “Where um..where is it?”

He looks over his shoulder at me, slightly confused. His eye brows unfurrow when I motion behind me.

“Oh- just up the stairs and third room down the hall..on the left.” He smiles, turning back to the cupboard to look through his extensive mug collection.

I nod to myself, spinning on my heel and making my way up his stairs. I’ve never gone beyond the downstairs of his house before and even then I stuck to the kitchen, dining room and lounge. It felt odd to suddenly have access to something as intimate as his bedroom, I try not to overthink things as I push open the third door I see.

The first thing I see is his large bed, there’s probably enough room for three people on it and there’s definitely enough pillows to go around. The room as a whole is tidy, whether it’s always like that or only organised so precisely for my visit, I don’t know, but the thought makes my stomach flutter.

I walk up to the side of the bed with no charger on it’s table and set my bag down. We hadn’t talked about the logistics of our...arrangement, but I’d brought the basics to last me through the night. I plug my charger into the wall and take out my wash bag and a set of clothes to sleep in before sliding my bag under the table. I look around for a second. Somehow I hadn’t really thought through the fact that by the end of the night, I’d be in Harry’s bed. With Harry. In a completely platonic way with the only function to soothe our mutually crappy sleeping habits.

I hear Harry walking up the stairs just as I slip into the un suit to wash up and get changed. He’s humming a song under his breath. The clink of mugs being set down is followed by wardrobe doors opening and closing and a light thud of clothes being thrown on the bed.

I wait a few minutes to make sure I don’t walk in on him changing. Opening the door tentatively, I step out into the room in a large sweater and pajama shorts. Harry turns to look at me, he’s in the same t-shirt he wore last time and a pair of boxer shorts and the whole situation suddenly seems so amusing. After just one night of falling asleep on the sofa together, not having ever talked before, here we are standing at our most vulnerable about to cuddle in his bed together.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” He nods, looking down at himself. “Hope this is okay...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or-”

“It’s fine,” I reassure him, “I didn’t really know what to wear either.”

His eyes flicker down my body and he smiles back up at me. He motions to the bed and we both nod a little awkwardly before making our way over to our sides. I climb in and instantly let a small groan out as my body sinks into the mattress, the pillows and duvet feel almost like a cloud as I burrow under and pull my tea up to my lips.

Harry chuckles from beside me, I peak over the mug to seem him grinning down from where he sits slightly taller in the bed.

“Sorry, you look comfy.” He laughs a little,

“I am, your bed’s insane.” I set my mug down and turn to him, bouncing slightly to emphasise the quality of his mattress that probably cost more than a year of my rent. “I really should start earning millions, feel like it’d suit me.”

He returns his tea to the bedside table and copies me, turning to face me with his legs crossed.

“It definitely would.” He smiles, bouncing a little before I let out a yawn. “Tired?”

“Exhausted.” I mumble, hand still covering half my face. Harry reaches behind him to turn to switch the lights above his headboard off before pulling the duvet back for us to slip under.

“C’mere,” Without hesitating, I shuffle back slightly until I can feel his chest behind me and an arm come up to rest around my hip. “‘This okay?”

“Mhmmm,” I hum, “What about our teeth?”

“We’ll brush ‘em in the morning,” I nod, groaning again as all the aches in my body subside as I sink into his arms and the foam mattress. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I mumble, embarrassed to have let myself go so easily around him. “Your mattress is just unbelievable. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

I speak before I think, mind clouded with sleep and my eyes already fighting to stay open.

“That’s the plan, love.”

. . . . .

When I wake up, Harry’s arms are tight around my middle and his body’s like a furnace behind me. I vaguely recall pulling my sweater off in the night to cool down as I lay now only in a vest and shorts. I slept better than I have in months though, despite the warm breaths on my neck turning my cheeks flushed.

The mix of Harry’s company and his safe haven of a mattress made for the perfect night sleep. I push back slightly into his chest and feel his arms tighten around me and a low murmur of his voice in my ear. The clock on my bedside table reads 6:30. It’s a Saturday and I can quite easily imagine spending the rest of my day - weekend even, exactly like this.

I slip back to sleep for a little awhile before I’m woken up to a low groan behind me. Harry shifts slightly, burying his face in the base of my neck and squeezing around my waist again. He must still be half asleep to be this comfortable with me.

I’m proven right when it takes another fifteen minutes for him to poke his head up over my shoulder and mumble:

“Breakfast?”

. . . . .

Our routine works smoothly for weeks. After sleeping so well the first few times, it became a given that we’d pile into Harry’s car after every night out with our friends and go back to his. Sometimes we’d get takeout or watch a film, but it wasn’t so rare that we’d just stumble out of his car, or a taxi - depending what the night had entailed, and walk with eyes almost closed straight to bed.

I stopped bringing things every night about two weeks in when a new toothbrush appeared next to Harrys and an oversized t-shirt of Harrys found its way onto my side of the bed. We also ditched the awkward pleasantries. Spending two or three nights a week in his house, I’d become pretty familiar with it all. I sometimes brought us breakfast if it was a weekend, or left a coffee beside the bed for him if I left for work first, We had very easily slipped into an oddly familiar sense of domesticity. It was strange to never mention any of it to our friends, it made it special though. We helped each other, and it was all just between the two of us. Nobody else knew Harry taught me how to make coffee just the way he likes it, or that we share his lavender shampoo sometimes.

“Ols?” Harry calls up the stairs to me. We’re running late to Julia and Theos anniversary dinner.

“Coming!” I yell back, reaching into his wardrobe to snatch a jacket before running down the stares.

“Oi! Slow down love, you’re gonna fall,” He complains, holding his hands out at the bottom of the stairs to catch me as I skid a little on the wooden floors of his hallway. “Hey! This’s mine!”

He tugs playfully on the opening of his jacket. I pull the fabric from his grasp and smile up at him.

“Not anymore…” He scrunches his nose up and pulls me towards him. The sudden movement pushed the air from my lungs suddenly. “-Fine! Just for tonight...nobody’ll notice anyway, you only just got his one.”

He shakes his head, bringing his fingers up to tickles across my stomach quickly before letting me go and clapping his hands.

“Shoes now!” He points down at my sock clad feet, “Come on we’re late already.”

I sling my bag over my shoulder and slip my boots on before trailing after him to the front door. He’s pulled his large green coat off the hangar before he’s looking back down at me, brows pulled together in confusion.

“What’ve got yeh bag for?”

“Ah see Harry, I tend not to leave my stuff places I don’t actually live.” I laugh.

“You’re not coming back tonight?” The confusion’s not joined by a hint of sadness as his hands fall from the door knob and he turns to face front on.

“Oh I..hadn’t thought ‘bout that. I’ve gotta water my plants.” I haven't been home in two days, I spent the whole day at Blondies yesterday then headed to Harry's after a few drinks with him and Nick. We’ve hung out around his house all day, sleeping in and finishing our last few bits of work for the week. “I can let them go a little dry I guess-”

“Can I come to yours?” Harry cuts me off to ask. “It’s just, I haven’t ever seen it..and that way your plant’ll be fine.”

I stay quiet for a second. Our world of sleepovers and movie marathons and home made curries for dinner existed within his house. My flat was small in comparisons to the homes of our friends, who were all, delicately put, pretty well off. Not that I wasn’t, I’d just gone into a lower paying area of my industry. I lived alone anyway so there wasn’t much point paying thousands in rent when I didn’t need much space.

“It’s fine it you want a night to yourself I can just-”

“It’s not that, H, I just didn't really think about how we only ever come here.” I mumble the last part, “Come back to mine, I don’t feel like going back on my own anyways.”

I smile a little, unsure of where we stand on the whole admitting we’d grown pretty dependent on each other’s presence, front. He smiles back, twisting the door open and holding it for me as I slip under his arm.

The car clicks unlocked and I settle into my seat. I reach over to push my seat belt in as Harry pulls his door shut and the car rumbles to a start.

“Can’t believe Jules and T have been together so long.” He sighs as we pull out onto the main road.

“Tell me about it,” I gaze out the window as rain dribbles lightly. “Feels like the year just went straight by.”

“They seem so happy still, like they’re still honeymooning,” Harry hums.

“I remember when they just started going out in Uni, even then it was obvious they’d end up together.”

“I like those kinds of people. The ones who make each other just completely themselves, ya know?” He glances over at me before turning back to the road.

“Yeah...they’re proper soulmates aren’t they.”

. . . . .

“Okay but seriously, what the fuck is up with you and Harry?” Eleanor bursts out as soon as we reach the bar. We’ve been sent off to get the third round whilst the others stayed at our favourite booth of the pub we frequented.

“Wait what?” I yell over the loud chatter of the pub, “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean!” She’s still waving her hand out for the bartender when she glances down at me again. “You’re tryna say you’re suddenly so close and nothing’s happened between you?”

“We’re not that close.” I quip, “We’ve just talked a bit more lately, I guess.”

“And nothing’s happened?” She raised a brow at me suspiciously. “You guys have left together every night for the past few weeks, just admit you have feelings for each other.”

“No, nothing’s happened.” I sigh, unsure if I sound convincing or not. “We just live close and it’s too cold now to get the tube back so late, he’s just being nice. You know Harry...he’s like that with everyone.”

Eleanor laughs a little, shaking her head. She places our order with the bartender when he makes his way to our side of the bar before turning back to me with her arms crossed.

“He’s nice to everyone, but he’s not just being nice to you.” She smirks, “And he usually doesn't give just anybody his clothes.”

She reaches out and rubs the fabric of my - Harrys - jacket between her thumb and forefinger. She looks up and quirks her brows up a little again. Before I can splutter out an explanation our drinks are being laid out on the counter beside us and Eleanor is pointing to the ones for me to carry and turning back to our booth.

A surge of anxiety washes over me as I follow Eleanor back to the group. My breaths feel unsteady and I can’t help but dart my eyes to get a quick glance at Harry to see if he’s experiencing the same kind of interrogation. He seems fine though, laughing at something Nicks said.

Soon we’re at the booth, slipping back into our seats and setting the drinks out in front of everyone. Harry’s eyes hover on me for a few seconds, brows raised a little in question. I smile and shake my head - everything’s fine.

I don’t miss how Eleanor glances between us throughout the whole night. Especially not when a different two get up for the next round and Harry and I are pushed next to each other when they climb back into the available seats. Harry seems a little suspicious too. He clearly hasn’t noticed Eleanor’s strange behaviour - or doesn’t care - because he’s kept gazing down at me every now and then since we came back with drinks hours ago. When I stop looking up at him, nervous Eleanor might question me about his constant and slightly nervous glances when we’re alone, he reaches his hand under the tables and pulls mine into his lap. He squeezes our hands every now and then. He’s always a touchy, cuddly drunk. Normally it’s a bit more obvious; he’ll wrap his arms around one of us on the dance floor or lap his head on a shoulder, nothing too intimate. Just friendly. But now he’s stroking his thumb over my knuckles and tapping out the beat of the current song playing with his foot, his knee bumping mine.

Julia and Theo are the first to go. Relief settles in me at the idea of not being the first two to leave for once. There’s no way Eleanor wouldn't’ve have noticed me and Harry sneaking the other a glance like we usually do to signal we’re ready to go, without some kind of distraction.

“It was so lovely guys, feels like we haven’t just sat down and talked in so long!” Julia smiles, leaning into Theos side tiredly as they say their goodbyes.

“I think I’m gonna head off too, it’s getting pretty late,” I smile, waiting for Harry to speak when Theo pipes up before him.

“Livs, you want a lift?” Theo looks down at me.

“Oh Olivia, that’s a good idea, you were just saying how it’s too cold for the tube.” Eleanor beams, smiling cheekily as she knows I’m the only one who’ll understand her subtle teasing.

“Oh I-” I stutter before Harry’s squeezing my hand again and looks up at Theo.

“I was actually gonna take her home, we’re only 10 minutes apart so it’s just easier.” He smiles politely, if I couldn’t feel his foot hooking over mine I’d believe he was just being nice and helping out a friend.

“Yeah but you’re gonna stay a little while aren’t you?” Julia countered, “We’re pretty close, it’s fine really.”

I nod, motioning to slide out of the booth. Harry lets me by, dropping my hand before anyone else could see. Julia, Theo and I say goodbye quickly and head out to the car park. As soon as we’re all strapped into their car, I pull out my phone and click Harry’s contact.

Meet me at mine x

Harry

Okay - what was that about?

I’ll explain when u get here, just something w Eleanor

U might have been right about the jacket :/

Theo pulls up outside my flat and I jump out the car, thanking them quickly and waving them off. I climb the stairs of my building and click the keys in my door, pushing it open and kicking my shoes off the second I get in. After a fifteen minute frantic clean, the place is looking slightly better. There’s no time to perfect it as I hear my phone buzzing on the counter, a dorky photo of Harry in one of his infamous sweaters all sprawled out on the sofa and sticking his tongue out at me flashes the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I’m just outside,” He talks softly, “What number are you?”

“24, wait a sec and I’ll buzz you up.”

I tread quickly to the button by my front door and let him up, hearing a quiet thanks over the phone and a “See you in a sec” before the line goes dead.

A minute later there’s a quiet knock at my door. I open it and see Harry, he looks a little more tired than when I left him forty minutes ago, he rubs his knuckles under his eyes and sighs softly.

“Hey, come in.” I pull the door a little wider, stepping aside to let him inside. He walks past me, eyes watching the floor whilst I lock the up behind us and turn to face him. There's an awkward tension in the air that I haven’t experienced with Harry before, maybe a little that first night when I walked in on him in his kitchen, but nothing like this since we’ve gotten closer.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, lifting his head with an uncertain look on his face.”You barely even looked at me.

“I..” I stumble over what to say, I’ve been thinking I could just explain what Eleanor had said and have it done with but now I know we’re not going to be able to just leave this. If somebody’s going to find out about our arrangement then something would have to change. “Ellie thinks there’s something going on with us and she kept staring all night. I just, I couldn’t give her anything to be suspicious about.”

“S’that what you mean about the jacket?” I nod, “What did she say?”

“Just that we seemed closer, talk more I guess.” I sigh, “She didn’t believe anything I said.”

“What did you say?” He presses. His tone is unclear, he seems less hurt now and more focussed on getting answers from me.

“I just, I told her nothing’s happened.” I mumble, “She asked about us leaving together and I told her it was just because we lived close and it’s easier than the tube.”

Harry bobs his head a little, taking in what I’ve just told him before laughing a little. He shakes his head and brings his palms up to his face, cursing under his breath. We stand in the quiet of my hallway before he speaks up again.

“Can we still do this?” That catches me off guard. Of course I knew we’d have to stop sometime when one of us started dating or a friend found out, I just hadn’t thought seriously about it happening anytime soon. “If she does find out, would that be the worst thing in the world?”

I shake my head, taking a step towards him to close the gap between us that’d been building my nerves throughout this whole exchange.

“I don’t wanna stop hanging out.” I confess. Harry quirks his lips up a little, obviously relieved as he pulls me to his chest. He wraps his arms around my shoulders and rests his chin on my head as we breathe together for a moment. All the while we’ve been spending nights at his, there’s been no serious moments like this. We’ve opened up about vulnerable subjects and confessed more than we probably should have to each other, but never anything like this. There’d never been a time I thought I could lose him.

“What if something did happen.” He whispers into my hair.

“Like what?” I murmur, voice a little muffled by his jacket.

“Like..” He trails off a little and I’m pretty sure I hear him inhale a little and smell my hair. “Like what if I kissed you..or something.”

“Or something?” My chest tightens, stomach fluttering suddenly.

“Mmhhhmm,” He hums, “What would happen then?”

“Eleanor would have a field day.”

Harry laughs, shoulders shaking a little as he giggles above me. He loosens his grip on my and pushes away to create a little space to see me again.

“Oh yeah?” He teases.

“Uh huh,” I smile, “She’d never let us forget it if she knew she was right.”

“And what would she be right about?” Harry lifts his hand to cup my face, tilting it slightly to make sure I’m staring right up at him.

“..Something..happening.” I whisper, “Having feelings for eachother.”

Harry grins, cheeks a soft rosy between the outside cold and the new blush. He strokes the pad of his thumb against my cheek and beams down at me.

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh…”

“Really..she’d be right about that?”

“I’m pretty sure-”

Before I can tease anymore, Harry’s leaning down to press his lips against mine. I inhale sharply, closing my eyes and looping my arms around the back of his neck to hold us in place. His hand still holds my face firmly, thumb fluttering over my cheek a couple times before he pulls away and we both breathe in deep.

“She’s definitely right.” He smiles, tone turning serious for a moment. “I really like you Olivia.”

Butterflies surge through my stomach for the millionth time since he walked through my door. Blushing and happy, I tighten my arms and push my face back into his shoulder.

“I like you too H….just a little bit.”

“We don’t have to tell anyone, just want this to be ours for a little while.” I can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back down to whisper into my ear.

“I want this to be ours forever.” I hum, words quiet and part of me hoping he doesn't hear my honest confession.

A comforting quiet settles over us. I remember how tired I really am as I melt further into Harry’s body, breathing in the sweet cinnamon and vanilla scent. His breathing lulls me half to sleep as I let my eyes flutter shut and bury my head further into his neck. I feel him lifting me up as my body relaxes against his and I catch his last few words before I he’s shifting me into his arms and walking us up the stairs.

“I could hold you ‘n listen to your voice all night long, love.”

. . . . .

“Oh my god!” Julia yells out, unravelling a long shawl from pristine white tissue paper. “Okay whoever got me, thank you so much!”

She continues to squeal a little as he wraps it over her shoulders and presses the end to her nose, inhaling the lavender scent of her favourite designer brand.

I’d only spent one Christmas with the whole group before but it was clear secret Santa was a bit of a tradition. Between the six of us we all had other friends, family and mostly, relationships. Organising a secret santa within our group just relieved some of the stress of present buying - and it was fun.

We’re all sitting around Harry’s living room, it felt the homiest to us after all. The kiddy advent calendar I bought for him hung by the fireplace reading December 21st. We’ve all finished our egg nogs, meaning it was officially present time. Over the next few days we’ll all be driving up and down the country to visit family, meaning today’s the last day most of us will be seeing each other. Harry had whined about me leaving, begging me to stay another day with him or better yet - spend christmas with his family up north.

It was when I told him my own parents were spending the holidays visiting my sister and her kids in New York that his campaign started. We kissed almost three months ago now and have been on a slew of dates since. Between all the secret dinners out, brunches and farmers market trips, we haven’t found time for the talk. We had no official title. I’ve heard Harry refer to me as “m’girl” a couple times when I’ve wandered into the kitchen and overheard him on the phone to mitch, but nothing he’s told me himself. Despite this, he still insists I have to come and spend christmas with him and his close family. The idea of me hanging out with my young cousins and distant relatives apparently doesn’t satisfy him.

“Are you serious!” Eleanor gasps as she unwraps her own present. Everyone had picked the perfect gifts for each other this year. In a pure coincidence, I ended up with Harry’s name after Nick made me trade because he’d already bought Julia’s present for her. I’ve been nervous about it all evening, I was sure he’d like it, a little too sure. That was the problem. One night, wrapped up in Harry’s bed, he’d recalled his latest tragedy to me: He’d taken shroom with Mitch on his last trip to LA and subsequently decided to skinny dip in the sea, losing his favourite mustard cords in the process. The only times we’ve seen everyone else has been with the both of us present and , to my knowledge, he hasn’t mentioned this to anyone else. The brown paper package that sat on the coffee table could invite a few more questions that I was prepared to answer.

“Harry, you’re next!” Ellie grinned, hugging her present to her chest.

Thanks to our early secrecy, there’s been no opportunity to tell our friends we were dating. Eleanor hasn’t stopped her constant questioning but we’ve kept up a pretty good front of excuses. It was still freezing out so it made sense for us both to climb into his car together at the end of the night. Nobody had to know we would be going home to the same house where we’d climb into the same heavenly bed and scramble eggs together in the morning.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Harry laughs as Ellie tries to hurry him up, playing perfectly into her role as the youngest in our group.

He pulls the first fold of paper back with his ringed fingers and immediately looks up at me as the mustard fabric shines up at him. He grins wide, beaming back at me before pulling the rest of the paper back and laying the trousers out in front of him.

“No babe...where did you find them?” He’s running his fingers down the cord, in awe to have his favorite trousers back - or at least a copy.

I don’t miss how Eleanor and Nick’s heads turn to share a look of shock as the pet name tumbles out. Before I can put anything together, Harry’s standing and leaning over the coffee table. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, pulling me into a hug and whispering his thanks in my ear.

“Wait I dont - how did you know it was h-” Julia pipes up, before she can finish she’s cut off by the joint gasps of Nick and Ellie as Harry plants a wet kiss to my cheek - then my lips, and laughs at our friends reaction.

“I knew it!” Ellie yells, pointing frantically between the two of us, Harry now having stepped over the table and come to sit next to me, pulling me into his side.

“What was-” Julia stammers, “Since when!”

Harry’s eyes flutter down to my face. He giggles quietly when he catches on to my glare. This wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined the evening going.

“Have you just been lying to my face for the past three months?” Ellie asks, crossing her arms over her chest and pouting her lips.

“Five,” Harry mumbles, almost just as an inside joke for the both of us to enjoy. I slap my hand against his shoulder to shut him up but the damage is already done.

“Five months!” Even Theo’s joining in now. “How didn’t we know?”

“It didn’t start out like this honestly, we would’ve told you.” I try and explain, eager for this to quiet down so we could get to the roast dinner waiting for us in the oven.

“How did it start?” Nick pokes, drawing Julia and Ellie’s attention as the same puzzled expressions adorn their faces.

“Unimportant,” Harry brushes off, standing up to tower over us all and reaching a hand back for my own. “We better get dinner, we wouldn't want burnt potatoes.”

Harry pulls on my arm gently, leading me out the room before anyone can object.

In the kitchen, he picks up a tea towel and starts to check on the food, prodding at the parsnips. I roll my eyes as he ties his lavender apron around his waist and tentatively pulls the potato tray from the oven.

“Harry..” I sigh, trying not to laugh as he turn to face me, spatula in hand.

“Yes dear?”

“What was that?”

“Oh - You’ve gotta shimmy a little spatula under the potatoes or they’ll break apart-”

“No, obviously not that,” He makes it so hard so stay stern, a giggle leaks out as he lifts a hand to rest on his hip. “Why did you do that?”

“I want them to know.” drops his utensils, tone sincere as he takes another step towards me. “I want our friends to know how much I love you already, and you remember about my mustard cords so..it felt like the perfect time.”

“What?” I stutter, looking up at him from where he’s pulled me into his chest. His hands rest on my waist, rings a little hold against my exposed skin.

“You remembered the trousers I lost last month in LA -”

“You love me?”

His eyes go a little wide, a smile peaking through as the sides of his mouth quirk upwards. Realising what he just said, he lifts a hand from my waist to rest it against my face and lean down a little.

“Of course I love you.” He whispers, his voice a little croaky and I can see tiny droplets gathering in his eyes that make my heart flutter.

“Love you too..” I mumble. I wipe a thumb over his cheek before pulling him down into a kiss. I feel his smile against my own, and everything’s perfect for just a second.

“So you’ll come to Christmas with me?”

. . . . .

Hiii I hate the ending :)

Tysm for reading !! pls leave a like or reblog (it rlly helps <3) if you enjoyed it x

#Harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #stellarboystyles3years #“I could just hold you and listen to your voice all night long.”#dani's masterlist #dani's writing #fan fic #harry styles #nick grimshaw #reader #idk #what do u even put in tags #christmas vibes?#friends to lovers

304 notes · View notes

arsenicpanda · 3 years ago

Note

coming from an amateur writer, do you have any tips on writing smut?

ngl, I’m an amateur myself, having not finished much smut and still not written the actual act of sex from the perspective of one of the people experiencing it. So idk why you came to me, but I am flattered. I'm not great at advice on the act of writing, but I’ll do my best to talk about process and shit.

1. Read smut. Read lots of it, read varying qualities and varying lengths and as soft-core and hard-core as you’re up for. Read it for fun, just taking it in, and then read it with a critical eye. What works? What doesn’t? Are there any tropes (general, character-specific, or ship-specific) that you like or dislike? Why? What’s especially hot? What makes you cringe? What kind of language do you like? And so on and so forth. Ask questions and answer them.

2. What’s your setup? Like, which characters, which ship, which universe? If it’s an AU, how does the AU change things from canon (especially important if you’re doing ABO, which is its own can of worms I’m not getting into here)? What’s the relationship between your characters and what’s the situation in which they fuck?

3. How do your characters feel about sex in general and with respect to the ship you’re writing? How horny are they in general, for the other character(s) in the ship, and in this specific situation? What are they into and not into? What are their previous experiences (or lack thereof) with sex and romance? What experience do the characters have with each other? Are there specific experiences they might remember and use or is there certain knowledge they do or don’t have about their partner(s) (For established ships, I like to mention previous experiences and knowledge of what the POV character’s partner(s) are into as a way to show that there is real history there. For unestablished ships, I like to include that figuring out process some and the reactions to experiencing stuff for the first time, either in general or within the specific ship, to show that newness of the relationship. Maybe there’s mention of a certain preference the POV character already knows about, or maybe the POV character makes note of a preference they learn during the fic. Stuff like that.)? How loud are they during sex? Are there any sex acts that this ship would engage in no matter what (e.g. I maintain all smut with Jughead that isn’t a quickie should include him giving some amount of oral sex)? How many times can they orgasm? How sensitive are they? What’s their refractory period? And so on, and so forth. Note: once you come up with answers for this section for your ship once, the next time you write smut for them, you’ll really only have to make adjustments according to the universe you’re in, so that’s nice.

4. What kind of fic are you writing? Is it pwp? Smut within plot? A character or relationship piece? Basically, are there any arcs to get through, what are they, and how are they going to relate to the smut? How explicit is the smut? What language do you want to use to refer to genitals and orgasms and such? What POV are you writing in? How much do your characters talk? How “realistic” are things? Are they practicing safe sex, including safe oral sex?

5. What’s actually happening? I like to plan out a smut scene ahead of time so I know how it starts, where they are physically, what the characters are doing (hand, mouth, genital, etc location and movement), how one sex act moves into another, what can be seen/heard/felt/etc based on POV, what’s physically possible at all times, if there are any accessories or toys I need to explain them owning and where they’re kept before the smut, and how it ends. It also helps me make sure the smut doesn’t significantly overlap with something I’ve already written or am planning to write. I also write an outline, which you don’t have to do, but does help if you ever go weeks or months between working on it because then when you come back you don’t have to strain to remember what the plan was. You can also just go with the flow and just write, but definitely keep location of body parts and what the POV character can actually see/hear/etc (for example, if your POV character is blindfolded or bent over, they can’t describe their partner’s face) in mind as you do.

6. Write it. Vary your sentence structure. I find good smut includes not just physical action, but emotion and especially sensation, but you might disagree. If you're struggling with repeated words and shit, maybe look for lists of words to use when writing smut. Probably look up tips for writing smut in general, ask people for advice (which you already are, so good for you!), etc. Draw upon your own experience if you have any, and if you don’t, maybe look into people’s accounts, sex tips, etc and check if any questions you have about sensation have been answered online anywhere, e.g. on reddit. But don’t try and make it perfect all at first; just write it. One approach that’s often effective is to do writing "sprints", that is, sit down for fifteen minutes and just write; you can continue for another fifteen minutes when you're done if you want, but you'd be surprised how much you can get done in fifteen minute segments over multiple days. Also, I recommend writing in google docs with the setting of “Add space after paragraph” (go to Format, then Line & paragraph spacing) for ease of transferring to AO3. Actually, here's a good guide on working from google docs an moving to AO3; look at it before you start. Google docs is also useful for when you have a beta because it lets them make suggestions instead of straight-up changing things themselves. Also, take note of where you use italics and non-italicized punctuation together (this will be useful when you need to publish to AO3).

7. Read it carefully and with a critical eye like you would someone else’s fic up in #1. Make sure that you can follow the action based solely on what you wrote and that nothing impossible or contradictory happens (e.g. teleporting body parts, a single hand in two locations at the same time, people twisting or reaching in physically impossible ways). What do you think is missing, where, why, and how might you fix it?

8. Revise it.

9. Repeat 7 and 8 as much as you desire until you’re satisfied, or at least as satisfied as you can be without peer review.

10. Send it to beta. Like, seriously, send it to beta because, if nothing else, your beta won’t know what’s supposed to be happening in the scene, so they can tell you if you’ve successfully conveyed what happens. If you have anything in particular you are uncertain about or want help with, ask your beta to pay close attention to it. Seriously, betaing is going to be much more effective if your beta knows what they should be focusing on most.

11. Repeat steps 7 and 8.

12. Title it and write a summary. Feel free to ask your beta for help here.

12. Congrats, you’re done! Transfer it to AO3 from google docs and save it as a draft. AO3 by default puts a space between italics and non-italicized punctuation, so go through your list of those combos and manually delete the extra spaces. Now add your title, tags, and summary. Don’t tag side pairings/pairings the fic doesn’t focus on in the relationship section; if you need to warn readers of them, put them in the additional tag sedition. If you’re writing an ot3+ that isn’t an established, feel free to tag the pieces of the ship involved (e.g. Betty/Jughead/Tabitha would also tag Betty/Jughead, Betty/Tabitha, and Tabitha/Jughead). But if the ot3+ is already popular within fandom, only tag the ot3+. Don’t tag characters who aren’t central to the story. Tag all warnings and kinks involved especially.

I think that’s it? I guess I might have overly walked you through, but that’s the process I recommend. I mean, I don’t always follow all the steps (While I get the gist of character/emotional arcs before I start plotting the smut, I often really nail them down after I’ve decided on the events of the smut because the latter is generally what has me writing the smut in the first place and I tend to get ahead of myself. Things would probably be easier if I didn’t do that though), but they’re good guidelines, I think? Regardless, I hope this helps!

#asks #anonymous #writing #smut

9 notes · View notes

agirlunderarock · 3 years ago

Note

Hello! For the writer ask, how about 9, 10 and 25?

My dude I feel like I always take so long to answer you ;-; but I always appreciate you coming in my ask box. I hope life is treating you well

#9 Are you more of a drabble or a longfic kind of writer? Pantser or plotter? Do you wish you were the other?

Heres the thing, I go into every writing project like its only going to be a one shot. I get it in my head that I can tell a whole story in one go. So I have the basic ideas and start jotting them down on anything. whether its pen and paper notes from things at work, or in my note pad on my phone or even google docs on my phone. I don't know if I fall into a pantser or plotter. Honestly it just depends on my mood and what my mental state is. It hasn't been until recently that I've actually tried planning out fics. LIke I have a google doc that holds about 50 pages of development for Sas that takes place during the clone wars and follows the main structure for some of the episodes- I've spent about a year going through it- but really is because I want to be able to write a long fic and actually finish it and have good development and get people excited for something. I think some of my better fics are things that I've taken my time on developing and going back and editing sections until I'm happy with it. Thats how chapter 1 of white lie got to be 20 pages long, but I think is some of the best writing I've ever done. Its one of the few things that I can go back and reread what I wrote and feel like its really good and sets up some cool things unintentionally. Now I just have to follow through.....

10. How would you describe your writing process?

I usually get one little scene stuck in my head or a little snippet of dialogue stuck in my head and then I want to build something around that. I’ve only done writing based on a photo once, and really I could have skipped all the page of exposition. I don’t consider myself a person with a process or at least a set process. I might have undiagnosed something and my brain is constantly EVERYWHERE. I think the best thing I can say is that I turn that little scene or the dialogue in my brain for days or weeks at a time, and then put it on paper or in my phone notes, and eventually it makes it into a google doc. i don’t edit because I hate reading my writing after I finish and I want instant gratification. I am a terrible person in that regard because I know for a fact my writing would be better if I just let it sit in the stew for a while and then I went back to edit. My former roommates know this. I write everything at like 2 am and it shows.

25 What part of writing is the most fun?

I really like talking to people about stories and the background things that contribute to stories. LIke theres so much that can go into planning a story and that sets up the mood and why characters react or act a certain way that never even make it into the thing I end up writing, but it still ends up contributing- I don’t know if I’m explaining that right. Like the other night I was talking to @journen who is making a modern au star wars fanart, in which Anakin is a bratty iPad kid. (Their art is amazing btw if you haven’t seen it I highly encourage everyone to go check them out if you don’t already) But we ended up talking about the whole origin story about how Anakin went from like an outdoorsy nature loving kid who thought eating bugs with his lizard was the best way to bond with her to the dreaded iPad kid- and like that was for artwork, but like even as we were talking about it, like it felt like a whole little story was coming through. So I guess thats a long way of saying my favorite things to do is just the sort of brain storming stage? Like trying to see what sticks and trying out different ideas and talking with different people about their ideas and just the back and forth and excited discussion. I used to love writing workshops for my fiction class when I was in university. I used to leave pretty detailed notes- for ever critical note, I had to find two positive things that I liked and always explained why. Like it didn’t even have to be my work we were talking about- I just like that part of the writing stage and figuring out ways to incorporate that. I like the buzz that comes with fresh ideas

#writing meme

3 notes · View notes

babyspiderling · 4 years ago

Text

Under the Lights Daveed Diggs x reader

Before I even paste this into Tumblr, I want you all to know that this took me two days of constant writing, and FOUR pages on google docs. I know that the second I hit paste, it’s going to be like one page. Anyways, here’s Daveed x reader.

2010

“Hey, Y/N, I brought you muffins!” A woman with a mouth full of pins, her hair up in a messy bun, measuring tape sloppily tied around her neck, and a pincushion on her wrist, exited a space separated from the rest of the apartment by a thin curtain. Seeing her best friend and roommate enter with goodies, a bright grin fluttered onto her face. “Wanna see what I did while you were gone?” He nodded and followed her to her half of the work room. On a mannequin, a beautiful dress was fleshed out much more than it had been when Lin had left this morning. It had been nothing more than a sketch on paper for the Newsies show. As a major in history with a minor in design, Y/N was accepted by Disney to create the costumes. It didn’t hurt that The Lin Manuel Miranda of In the Heights fame was on her list of references. She had decided to start with Medda’s dress first. Medda was a personal favorite of hers and was excited to do her own spin on it. A deep purple sash had been half pinned under the bodice and sadly hung from its haphazard placement. “The sash would look better if you hadn’t distracted me with food dork.” He smiled and pressed the folded paper bag into her hand. “Alright. I’m going to finish this for Alan. It’s a miracle I have this job. I’m not screwing it up. I also meant to tell you that one of my guys are going to be here tomorrow for a measure and design session. Sweet kid. Amazing dancer.” Lin grinned teasingly as he set his laptop down on his desk. “Am I getting replaced? Is he going to be your new roommate and best friend?” Y/N stuck out her tongue at her best friend and continued her work. The sounds of humming and a machine whirring mixed in with the excited clacking of keys to make a strangely beautiful symphony.

2013

“Y/N! I need your help!” In the tiny apartment in the upper east side, an over-caffeinated Wesleyan Alumni burst through the front door, a paper bag of bagels clutched tightly. At the yells, another Alumni ran from her section of the apartment. “Lin! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He thrusts the bag into her searching hands, and lets out another shriek. “Y/N! I’m fine! They want to put The Hamilton Mixtape through a workshop! And if we get this right, they’ll move us to a real show!” Shoving his shoulders, she muffled her screams behind pinched lips. “Lin, you can not go scaring me like that! I’m going to get gray hairs before we even get to the off Broadway! What do you need my help with?” He pulled her onto the ratty couch they had in the little space. “I need a costumer. You’re the best in the business. Not to mention I’ll be with you all the time, so there’s no chance of miscommunications!” Standing from her forced seat, she cradled Lin’s head in her hands. She saw the excitement glimmer in his eyes and softened. “Lin, of course I’ll help you, I am a history major after all. Who else could make it historically accurate while still being functional? Thank you for even considering me, and for the bagels.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. Giving a crooked smile, she pointed a finger in his face. “If you ever scare me like that, I swear I will never cook or bake for you again.” He smiled sheepishly and shrugged in apology. “Sorry, but hey, you’re my costumer now!” She smiled and bumped her hip with his. She dug through her pads of paper and snatched her laptop off the charger. “Alright. Give me your tracks and I’ll get started.”

July 27th, 2013

“Alright, I’m here. Sorry I’m late, I got halfway down the block before I figured out I left my notes on the desk. Who do we have here?” Three men held my attention, understandable since they were the main cast. I recognized Brian D’arcy James from other productions, there was another man with big hair and bright eyes, and finally my eyes fell on Christopher. I smiled at him and gave him a quick hug. “Oh my God! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in so long! How’ve you been.” He chuckled and pulled me in again. “I’m good. I was missing our Vanessa for a while, but you’re working with us now so I won’t have to miss you anymore! Lin told me about the project and I couldn’t turn it down.” He turned me to the stranger at the clearing of a throat. “Oh, this is Daveed. He’s playing Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette. He raps.” I looked at him up and down, remembering the songs Lin had written for him. I cocked my head, and he looked at me with nervous eyes. “This will work. This is going to work great actually.” I saw his shoulders relax and sag with relief as I walked back to the table set up for the behind the scenes people. I gripped my pen in my hand, ready to jot down every little thought that passed through my mind for the time of the workshop.

After hours and hours of rehearsals and run throughs, I’d filled up a notebook and a half for costumes for the characters. This time around Lin wanted his cast flexible. Those whose characters were not in the second act were recast as another role, so I had to figure out how to do quick changes not only for the nine main cast members, but for the entire ensemble. As Lin and I packed up our things to head home, the man with the beautiful eyes stopped me. “Hey, Vanessa, right?” I heard Lin and Christopher snicker somewhere behind me and I shot them a look. “Actually, it’s Y/N.” His eyes widened in embarrassment and his hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just thought it was Vanessa since that’s what Christopher called you.” I shook my head and smiled. “Oh, no. That’s just a little joke between us. I was the demo Vanessa when Lin was trying to sell In the Heights. I’m the reason why Vanessa never speaks Spanish. I took French all through high school and college.” He nodded and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’ve got some questions about costumes and everything you do. Could I have your number to keep in contact?” I nodded and pulled out my phone, switching it with his and I plugged in my contact information. “Alright. I’m headed home, but I’ll make a schedule for measuring and design sessions. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded enthusiastically, making his hair bob with his movements. I waved goodnight and followed Lin out of the building.

“So, Daveed.” I looked up from my buzzing phone to Lin out of the corner of my eye, giving him an eyebrow. “What about Daveed?” He shrugged and wore a small smile. “You texting him?” I put my phone down to look at him headlong. “And if I am?” Once again he shrugged and got up to grab a snack. “Nothing, just remember your worth.” I shake my head good naturally. “Alright Dad. Now, I’ve got to sketch out what my brain was screaming during the workshop. And how to create every outfit as a quick change. Thanks loser.”

July 15th, 2015

“Alright everyone! We’ve practiced these changes for weeks! Remember your number, remember your cue. You all have been a wonder to work with and to create for. I love you all and break a leg!” Everyone is dressed in white for the opening number, and I am proud of my work. “Oh, and Daveed;” Daveed looks up at me, a strange look in his eyes. “Yes, Y/N?” I looked him in the eyes, stoic and serious. “If you rip your pants during Guns and Ships again, you will repay me by organizing the scrap bin.” He swallowed visibly and nodded his head. I smiled once again and put my hand out for a group theatre circle. “Break a leg!” Everyone scurried to their cue spot in their costumes and Lin hugged me from behind. “Thank you for doing this for me. I never would be able to have costumes this good if it weren’t for you.” I turned in his arms and smiled. “I’m glad I did too Lin. Now go, they’re calling your name.” I listened from my side of the stage, getting everything in order for the main cast. I pulled Daveeds coat off quickly and held out his blue one for him to slide on. “Hey, Y/N, maybe after the show we can-“ “Diggs! Get to your cue!” I smiled and nudged him. “Go. Talk to me after the show.” He gave a quick kiss to my cheek and went to do his thing on stage. As I pinned the rose to Renée’s dress, her sweet voice teased at me. “You do know that he loves you too, right?” I know what she’s talking about, but I pretend to play dumb. “Who loves me? Nevermind, neither of us have the time for this. Go kick ass out there.” She scrunched her eyebrows at me and pointed her finger to say “This isn’t over.”

The first act went by in a flash, costume changes and character changes took up all of my time. After I had hung up every dress, every coat, every pair of trousers and corset, Daveed had changed and packed up all of his things. I had just finished mending the lace cuff on his magenta sleeve when he had walked in. He wore a sleeveless Oakland jersey with a matching hat pressed onto his freed hair. “Oh! Daveed! Perfect timing! I was just finishing up here. What was it that you were wanting to tell me?” At my question, it was like a switch had been flipped in him. He went from the cool and collected suave man who the fans fantasized over to a shy and awkward man who had run out of words. Self-doubt and insecurity filled my inner dialogue as I watched him shut down and clam up. I was filled with the fear and anxiety that he had come to ask me to stop staring, to stop caring. I let the silence carry on for a while longer until Anthony called for us to leave. “I, I should probably go, then. You were amazing tonight, not a single trip or stutter. I am so proud of you.” I swallowed down the tears making their way up my throat and gave him a watery smile. I grabbed my bag, and started to make a hurried exit until my wrist was caught by a large and calloused hand. “Wait, no. Y/N, I wanted to know if you wanted to grab something to eat, go do something when we don’t have a show. You know, like maybe a date? Unless you don’t want to, then it’ll just be us as friends. I’d actually really appreciate it if you just forgot this whole ordeal and-” I smiled and blushed at his sweet ramblings. I stepped up onto my workbench and gripped his face in my hands. Taking a deep breath I leaned in and connected our lips, praying to every spiritual being in the heavens that they would allow him to kiss me back. I guess praying did me good because after getting over the shock of being interrupted, he kissed me back with the same fervour. Once more, we are called to leave the theater and we break apart, panting lightly with swollen lips and pink cheeks. He helped me down from my step and I lifted myself onto my toes to give a peck to his cheek. “Alright big guy, let’s go home. Lin’s either knowing of what we were doing, or he’s pacing in our living room, police on speed dial. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton #hamilton x reader #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #hamilcast #hamilcast x reader #theatre #theatre x reader

158 notes · View notes

thirdtimesthecharmsworld · 4 years ago

Text

Umbrella Academy Fanfic

Preface: I’m a big fan of Dead Like Me, the 2003 tv show created by Bryan Fuller. This fanfiction I’ve written is pretty much a crossover between the two universes, but with my own original character instead. It’s a bit convoluted, story-wise, so I apologize in advance if you read this and it doesn’t make any sense. Also, I wrote this in the span of a month, and there are multiple parts. I’ve decided I can’t keep it locked it up in my Google Docs anymore so here you go.

PS: This is the first time I’m posting anything I’ve written on here, so I’d actually appreciate any constructive criticism anyone may have!

As many times as I’ve done this, the young ones never sit right with me. Their big doe eyes always seem to pierce my soul. If I even still have one.

There were surprised gasps at first. Then silence. The room we are gazing on is covered in blood. And after the scene I just witnessed, I wasn’t even sure how much of it was his. He looks so despaired. He was really just left in parts, chunks of a child strewn everywhere. I felt sick. After all these years, the bloody ones still got to me. And this one, a kid. I turn away, reaching out reflexively to grip at his shoulder. He looks up at me, I can see, in my peripheral vision. I close my eyes, feeling my stomach turn. And then they started wailing. Deep, shuddering breaths and sobbing cries. I don’t think they even knew they were doing it, the six kids standing there in the carnage. I don’t have to turn and look to know they were clutching at each other, wracked with emotions. And I can’t take it anymore.

The metal door swings on its hinges as I rush out. There is a bang behind me as it hits the wall, but the only thing I’m focused on is trying to control my breathing. The last time I’d seen anything so bloody was Mom. An image: her blonde hair soaked red, against the rocks, my tears soaking Sofer’s jacket as he held me. My stomach turns again, and I lean over, my hands on my bent knees. Everything swims in front of me, my eyes now brimming with tears. Panic set it. I couldn’t do anything back then either. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t save anyone, I couldn’t do anythi-

“Hello?” a timid voice behind me.

Oh, the kid. I’d forgotten about the kid. The images, the thoughts, the guilt I felt, leave my mind and I focus on the post-it note I feel burning a hole in my pocketbook. Of course I couldn’t save them, that wasn’t my job. My job is just to help them move on, go forward.

I draw a deep breath, almost losing it at the stench of the alleyway. I swipe my hand across my eyes as I turn around. Short black hair frames a delicate face. His school-boy attire seems unfitting for the ordeal I know he just went through. And he’s so small. Granted, I’m only a couple feet taller than him, but I can just see how small he is from the way he stands, so defeated, so confused, so innocent. I feel my eyes brimming with tears again, but offer a wavering smile I hope will comfort him.

“Hey, kid.” I utter. He just stares at me. I suck in a breath, the smile fading. Looking down at my shoes, I draw the courage to continue, “I know you have a shit-load of questions. But if it’s okay with you,” I look up, “I’d like to get out of here.” His brows furrow, and he turns to look through the door into the museum. I can faintly still hear the wails of his siblings, and I recognize that’s what he’s thinking of. But the bloody image flashes in my mind again, and I know that he understands, deep down, why he can’t go back there. Why he didn’t feel anything at the moment all that carnage took place. Why he’s numb now.

He turned, looked me in the eyes. He’s still hesitant, I can tell, but the understanding I knew he feels is there, just at the surface of his demeanor. He nods, and I walk forward. I gesture toward the opening of the alley, and we keep walking.

It doesn’t feel right to try and comfort him then, to try and explain that I understand what he feels. That, though I look 15, I know what it feels like to die.

We keep walking, police cars and ambulances passing us, until we reach the bookstore. Luckily, it wasn’t very far. He still hasn’t said anything by the time we reach the door, but I was expecting as much. I glance up at Cindy behind the cash register as I walk in. She nods, and comes to flip the sign at the front to CLOSED as we walk to the back. I grab the clothes and wet wipes I’d stored in the closet on my way to the table. Ben follows silently behind me.

I clear my throat, “So,” I started, “I guess I’ll ask you first. Do you have any pressing questions, or if you want me to jump right into it?”

He doesn’t look at me, just stares at the cup of tea in front of him. He looks even smaller with the big blanket covering him. I sigh, “Look, I-”. God, it’s a kid, I don’t know what to say to kids. And I haven’t even gotten a kid in a long time. I don’t even remember what I said to the last one. I look at him again. He is all bundled up in that blanket, blood still covering him. I’d offered the wipes but he didn’t reach out for them. I think he’s still in shock. Memories of my own death trickle in.

“It didn’t really hurt when I died.” I state.

He blinks. Finally, a response.

I continue, “I mean, mine wasn’t all that brutal, so of course it didn’t really hurt.” I look down at the sleeve of my sweater. “It was my birthday, actually. I’d just turned 16, which was the youngest age you had to be to get a job back then. Of course, Mom said she didn’t want me to do that. The people I was living with then were really nice, you know? It was the Great Depression, as you guys call it; so there wasn’t really much of a chance for food, much less money to buy food. But I-I remember wanting to help, to try and find a job or some food or something- anything really. I don’t know why I thought I could help. Like I said, I hadn’t eaten in a long time,” I chuckle. “Anyway, I went out in the night, so nobody’d ask questions. I figured I’d try to go into the city. I don’t even remember how I got there, to the city. I was just so tired. We lived a bit further out than everybody else, which was also why it was hard to find stuff. It took longer than I thought it would. I was so weak by the time I got there; so tired. It was so bright up close; all the lights and stuff. The smell was horrible, and the people I saw all looked sick. But I was determined to find something, some way to help my family. And then I smelled it. Food; it made my stomach growl like crazy. I looked up and I saw a line of people in front of a soup kitchen, and I saw people holding soup, and it looked so good. I stepped out into the street, to cross the road, and...and that was it. It was over...like that. And I wasn’t hungry anymore. I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t anything” I sniffle. “It was a car. It came barreling down the road, totally reckless. When I came to, Sofer was there. He told me what’d happened right away. He said that it was some guy with a pregnant wife in the backseat. Told me I was dead, and he was a reaper.”

oops, I guess that’s the end of the story. I look up at the kid across from me-saying his name felt too personal right now. He’s staring at me, and with dread I notice tears in his eyes. He is clutching the cup of tea in front of him. He looks a little scared, actually, and I feel bad all of a sudden. I didn’t mean to make him sad, I thought I was doing the right thing. God, I don’t know what to say to kids.

“Sorry,” I mutter, concern filling me as I lean closer to him, “I didn’t mean to scare you, kid, I just- I- God, I don’t know, I guess I thought it would help.” Speaking, obviously, wasn’t the right move, as all of a sudden the tears are rolling down his cheeks. “Shit,” I exclaim, reaching across the table to grab his hand, “I’m sorry. It’s okay, it- it’s okay, I mean, yeah, you died, but you’re okay now, right?” That also wasn’t the right thing to say, because he has started crying even harder. “Oh, no,” I scoop him up, holding him to my chest as I gently just sit down on the floor. “Oh, god, I’m sorry! Oh, I’m so sorry.” I can’t stop apologizing, I can’t stop hushing him, rocking back and forth with him in my arms. I am horrible at this. I am so, so bad at this. Why did Sofer have to leave me here alone? Now tears are pricking at my eyes, and I can’t stop thinking of all the people I’ve failed, all the people who took so long to get beyond the veil because of me. Me and my stupid emotions. I am full blown crying now. I still can’t stop apologizing, and tears silently stream down my face and soak the blanket Ben is wrapped in. Ben. Dammit, I made it personal.

It was a good 10 minutes at least until Cindy came to the back and saw us still on the floor. He’d stopped crying by then, worn himself out. We were just sitting there, staring off into the distance. I’d started brushing his hair subconsciously, and he didn’t stop me. He was definitely worn out. She helped me lead him to the cot in the guest room, and he laid down and closed his eyes. I didn’t have the heart to tell him he couldn’t really sleep; he was dead. I leave the door open a crack, figuring he’d realize soon enough and come back out. Cindy is staring at me when I turn from closing the door. I glare at her, “Not a word,” I mutter as I move to clean away the mugs on the table. In my peripheral, I can see her raise her hands in defense, “I didn’t say anything!” she exclaims. I roll my eyes, “Yeah, but you were thinking something, and that’s just as distracting.” I hear her sigh, “Look, it’s just that this is the second one this week, and it isn’t like you to do this more than once every couple of years, maybe.” Dammit, she has a point.

“Cindy, I just...I just don’t know what to do when it’s a kid,” I whisper, turning to face her. She looks sad, like she pities me. God, I hate it when she pities me.

“I know that, but the one earlier this week was, like 100.” I glare at her again, walking over to the sink with my mug bounty, “She was 95, okay? And anyway, I was only sad because I knew you wouldn’t let me keep her dog.” Cindy rolls her eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, no, that’s such a blatant lie, I’m even more concerned now. I fucking love dogs, okay, and you know that!” My head shoots up, eyes wide, “Cut it out with the cussing,” I hiss. She looks even more concerned, appalled even.

“The cussing?!” she exclaims. I lift my finger up to my lips, worried her volume will wake Ben. She doesn’t stop talking, but does lower her voice, glancing at the door to the bedroom, “The cussing? You’re worried about me fucking cussing now?”.

“Yeah, Cin,” I continue, taunting her with her most hated nickname, “I’m worried about you cussing now. It’s not my fault you’re always cursing like a-” I stop myself quickly and grimace at my mistake. There’s silence for a beat as I turn my head slowly to look at her, overly smiling apologetically. She’s pretty much livid now. There’s not usually much I can do when she’d livid. I open my mouth, “I’m sor-”. The sting of her slap on my back is something I’m used to, but I gasp in shock and let out a laugh. I continue apologizing, “I’m sorry De, I’m sorry!”. I laugh as she hits me two more times, not hard- never hard- but enough to get her point across.

“Low blow, man,” she mutters, coming closer to help me with the dishes. I chuckle a bit, “Well, it’s not like I finished the sentence,” I try to defend myself. She just glares at me, and we wash dishes for a couple more minutes. Cindy’s death was more brutal than mine. And being raped and killed by a sailor in the 40s left a bad taste in her mouth when it comes to certain phrases. In the quiet aftermath of our fight, I pucker my lips at something she said, “It was a chihuahua.” Cindy looks up at me. “The lady’s dog, it was a chihuahua, that’s why I knew you wouldn’t want to keep it,” I explain. She smiles, then furrows her brow, “You hate chihuahuas too, though. Why would you want to keep it?” Dammit, she’s got another point. Why would I want to keep some angry old dog that belonged to some old lady I don’t even know? I think of her face, all wrinkled, but full of comfort and love. Warmth. It reminds me of Mom, holding me tight. She was always so warm. It didn’t hurt when I died, but it sure as hell hurt when she did.

“Pen?” Cindy says softly. I’m pulled out of my stupor. I shake myself, look at her. That was a mistake. She looks so concerned, so sad for me. I feel warmth on my arm, and look down at her hand on my bicep. I sigh, turning to put the dishes I was holding in the sink, and then grabbing a dish towel to dry my hands. While Cindy dries hers too, I pull out my pocketbook and flip through to get to the right page. I peel the post-it off the page and hand it to Cindy. She grabs it daintily. Her face changes as she reads it, “Oh, Pen,” she whispers with remorse. I lower my head, leaning back against the counter, “Yeah,” I sigh.

Written on the post-it is a name, a time, and a place. The name, though, is why Cindy’s now looking at me like I’m going to start breaking down any second. Which I definitely would, if it weren’t for the fact that I just did that with Ben 5 minutes ago. The name reads, Margaret Selorde, and it’s been breaking my heart since Thursday.

“How is this even possible,” Cindy whispers. I chuckled sadly, “Margaret is a pretty popular name, D, I don’t know what you mean.” She looks up, tilting her head and furrowing her brow as if to say, “Yeah, dipshit, I know Margaret is a popular name.” I sigh at that look, “It’s actually her.” Cindy’s mouth drops in surprise, “Seriously?” she whispers, and I nod, thankful she didn’t point out that I just said “is”, and not “was”.

“Penny told me. Then she looked into it when she got the ledger,” I explain, “found some old records on it at the library. And texted me right away,” I smile. Cindy’s face says it all. Her eyebrows are pulled together and her eyes are watering. She doesn’t pity me, she’s heartbroken for me. Penny had to take the soul of my adopted sister, the only part of my family left.

I look back down at my shoes, tears pricking my eyes, “She recognized me, actually,” I sniffle, “Penny showed her a picture of me,” I chuckle, watery. I clear my throat and pick my head up, still not looking at Cindy, but rather a spot on the doorway across the room, “Penny said she-she said she always knew I ended up okay. She said she always had a feeling.” I pause, then look at

The door to the guest room creaks, and I whip my head around. Ben’s standing there, skin still covered in dried blood. He looks so small, so innocent, so- “Hey, kid,” Cindy says. I turn to look at her, trying to communicate with my eyes that talking to him might not be the best idea, because I still don’t know what’s going on in his mind. She ignores me, “Do you want something?” she asks. I look back at him, and remark again at the blood all over his clothes. He doesn’t say anything, but looks at me. It hurts, strikes me to the core-my soul, if I still have one. I feel the urge to explain Cindy’s presence, “She’s like me, and she’s my roommate,” I awkwardly explain. He looks back at Cindy, who smiles. The silence is deafening. I can’t stop looking at him, at the blood.

“Hey, if you want, you can use the bathroom over there,” I point to the door next to the guest room, “to, um, well, wash off.” God dammit, why am I so bad with kids? Ben looks, though, at the bathroom door, and then down at his hands. I feel bad again as his eyes begin to fill with tears all over again. He rushes to the bathroom in a flash, shutting the door tight behind him. I grimace at it all, and turn to face Cindy again. She looks appalled as she hands me back the post-it note, “What did you even say to him?” she whispers. I throw my hands up, making sure to keep the post-it secure in one of my hands, “I don’t know,” I whisper back fiercely, “I told you, I’m bad with kids!” Cindy chuckles, still looking concerned about him, “He was so small,” she insists quietly, “and bloody,” she wrinkles her nose. I sigh, remembering the carnage, “Yeah, it was brutal.” Cindy looks at me, all of a sudden very serious, “Did someone…” she trails off, making a throat-slitting gesture. I shake my head fervently, “No, no, no, no,” I reassure her, and she sighs, “He did it himself,” I explain. Her eyes are big as saucers, and she’s absolutely heartbroken, “He did it himself?!” I chuckle at her expression, surprised she got to that conclusion, “Oh my god, sit down, I’ll just explain it to you.”

#dead like me #the umbrella academy #fanfic

25 notes · View notes