#made to be

[1d1195]

Made to Be - Extra IV

Read Made to Be here | ~1.8k words

From me: I was just thinking about them (probs because I'm always thinking about school. This take place sometime between January and the second extra (pre-baby stuff). This is just a really quick little thing until I can write something of merit. I believe I'm almost caught up at work. I think I might be able to write something more substantial this week 💕 Thank you for being patient and kind.

Warnings: none, fluffy cute stuff.

Summary: Harry's not the only one who thinks she was made to be a teacher.

May

“I think we should outlaw field trips,” she mumbled sitting beside Harry in the front seat of the bus.

He chuckled. “It will be fun, kitten,” he assured her.

“Fun for you maybe. You got the good group of kids to chaperone.”

“I’ll give y’group a lecture before we split up, angel,” he promised. Harry snagged her hand from her lap and gave it a gentle squeeze. They tried not to be overly affectionate in front of the students because they didn’t want it to be weird...not that it was weird. But it was definitely something in their eyes. “Y’know they only gave y’a tough group because y’can handle it and they love you.”

She sighed. “I know, I know.”

They were dressed comfortably for the history museum trip. Business casual that made Harry think she was modeling for teachers in textbooks. She was so pretty it made his heart skip a beat.

She had been telling Harry how excited she was to go on the trip up until she got the names of the group she was chaperoning. She was especially excited because schools always got great discounts for museums that she generally hated to pay for. But not even the group rate was enough to make her enthusiasm spike. She fiddled nervously with her engagement ring dangling on her necklace. Harry truly outdid himself and wearing the ring on her finger in the city made her nervous so she opted for the necklace so she could tuck it away safely. (But she assured Harry the thought of taking it off made her feel naked.) Until it was tucked away, Harry smiled, self-satisfied as she twisted it on the silver chain. That pretty diamond glittering in the sun coming through the window of the bus made him so happy. The little symbol that they’d be together forever. She was made for him. He was certain.

He almost forgot he was supposed to be comforting her. It was loud behind them. Not excessive, but when forty something students chattered in an enclosed area, it always got a bit loud and also didn’t help his train of thought. “They’ll pull it together for you,” he draped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. The kids would have to deal.

“Aw!” Someone droned. Her cheeks heated briefly but Harry turned in his seat and glared so that the sound was cut off quickly.

“Jus’ show them all y’favorite things,” he shrugged.

“My nightmare is losing a student on a trip,” she sighed. “This is so stressful.”

“They’re not little ones, m’love,” he reminded her. “They can wander a bit and they’ll be okay. S’not like they don’t all go to the mall on their own and whatnot. Plus, I’d never let y’take the fall for losing one of them. We’d find them. M’sure a lot of parents wouldn’t either. But s’not going t’happen.”

She nodded. Then she sighed heavily and squeezed his hand back. “You’re right.”

“Mm, music t’my ears,” he grinned.

“Don’t push it.”

*

But Harry was right. Her group of students who were usually a rough and tumble kind of bunch really got into the trip. At first they were quiet, almost shy. But she acted as if she didn’t notice and told them all about the exhibits they encountered and explained as much as she could. She did her best to connect the displays to their own lives so they would care more.

As such, they walked right along with her and forgot their shyness. They asked intelligent follow up questions after she explained what they were looking at. They followed all her directions and even asked her for more information about the information she told them as they walked through the rooms. She was going to boost their grades when they got back to school with bonus points for being so good and learning at the same time.

The relief was exhilarating.

About part way through the morning, her group of eight needed a bathroom break. She waited outside the bathrooms and checked her phone for any kind of emergency. Harry texted to check in on her, so she answered to let him know how good her group was and how happy she was to be on the trip again.

“School trip?”

She looked up instinctively, the lanyard around her neck was the only thing that marked her as an adult in comparison to her students. Her slightly shorter frame didn’t compare to the boys she taught who often towered over her. She thought she usually looked the part of being a teacher. She felt it was written on her face (or maybe it was the headband with the Treaty of Versailles printed on the fabric and her pencil earrings that gave it away). The man before wasn’t one of her coworkers but he had a lanyard around his neck from a school she hadn’t heard of before.

She nodded. “Oh yeah, drove an hour in,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.

“Same here. About an hour and a half. You’re a history teacher as well?” He asked.

Her students were still in the restroom, so she cleared her throat again and nodded. “Yes, World History.”

“Same here, where are you in the curriculum right now?”

“We just finished up the Industrial Revolution. About to start Imperialism.”

“Fun stuff! You know, one of my students heard you talking about the Enigma exhibit. Said I left out a ton of information that you seemed to know a lot more about.”

She chuckled. “I see, sorry about that,” she smiled politely. “I get a little too into Bletchley Park.”

“Don’t we all.”

“Miss,” one of her students said suddenly appearing from the bathroom with two others. She glanced toward the men’s bathroom but didn’t see any of them just yet. “Can we pop into the giftshop?”

She glanced at her watch. “I think we have time for that, scope it out before everyone else at the end of the day. We have lunch in about an hour.”

“Are you all eating here, in the food court?”

“I think we’re eating outside,” she said. “Nice day and all... I think the boys are coming out now,” she smiled at her student. “Nice meeting you. Enjoy the museum,” she ushered her students toward the men’s room and sighed.

“Was he hitting on you, Miss?” She whispered.

“Shh.”

“Okay, queen,” she giggled. “Are you going to tell Mr. Styles?”

“He wasn’t hitting on me.”

“Miss,” she laughed. “He was so hitting on you.”

“I didn’t—”

“Who was hitting on her?” One of the boys asked.

“No one—”

“That guy.”

“Oooh, he’s cute. Wait until Mr. Styles finds out he has competition.”

“Miss, I think we have to intimidate him,” another one of the boys explained knowingly. “It’s what Mr. Styles would want.”

“Oh, my word,” she sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Can we go to the giftshop?”

*

“Everyone please look in the seat next to you and check if the person you travelled with on the way here is still here! We’re doing a final headcount as soon as we’re all seated.”

“Mr. Styles!” One of her group members sang. She glared at him briefly with her best teacher stare before she sat facing forward in her seat. Harry squeezed her shoulder reassuringly.

“Yes? Didn’t y’torture m’fiancée enough today?”

“I would never torture her! But your fiancée got hit on by a guy by the bathroom!” He shouted.

The resounding oohs from the entire bus made her blush. She looked straight forward at the seatback in front of her. “Really?” He smiled and glanced down at the pretty girl beside him.

She shook her head. “He was not flirting.”

“Course he was, Miss! You’re a total catch!” The girl in her group called back.

“She’s right, y’know,” he winked at her knowingly, his voice was low. Maybe only one or two students heard Harry say it and they were kind enough to giggle and not make a scene of it or embarrass her further. “Alright, alright, head count!”

She stayed put while Harry walked up and down the aisle. When he returned to the front, he told the bus driver that everyone was accounted for and they could go on their way.

“Hiding your affair from me?” He winked.

“Shut up.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand from her lap and brought her fingers to his lips briefly. “S’no surprise, really.”

“It’s probably because my ring was inside my shirt.”

“Lucky ring,” he hummed.

“Harry,” she hissed.

“The man has good taste, kitten,” he shrugged. “M’not surprised at all.”

She sighed. “I wasn’t hiding it from you. I just didn’t want to make you jealous. I don’t want you to think you have anything to be jealous of, you know?”

“I know, I know,” his voice was so kind and soft. The way he sounded when they were falling asleep. It was quiet and warm. If they weren’t in front of forty something students, he probably would have held her cheek and kissed her the way he did every night. Would have traced her features and told her how much he loved her. “You’re jus’ so pretty, so nice, so lovely that anyone with half a brain cell can see it from across the room,” he assured her. Her relief was massive. The idea of hurting Harry’s feelings or betraying his trust was one of her worst fears. She pulled the necklace from its spot and twisted it again and Harry’s smile grew. “God,” he shook his head. Then he squeezed her hand three quick times. She squeezed it back four times in succession. Both knew what it meant. A not quite secret that they loved each other.

She was always grateful for Harry coming into her life. The day she left her old school and got her new job was so scary and sad. In hindsight, she would have told herself in her first year of teaching that a new school was in her future, and she was going to meet a man that was everything she wanted and more.

Someone who was made for her.

“What?” He smirked. The sun was setting and bathing the bus in a soft golden light that only highlighted how handsome Harry was.

“Just thinking about how jealous I would be if a girl flirted with you on a field trip. You have way more kindness than I do.”

“Oh, don’t worry, kitten,” he mumbled and brought his mouth to her ear. “M’going t’show you how crazy the thought of another guy chatting y’up makes me later. Remind you that y’don’t need anyone else. Ever,” he promised and pressed a chaste kiss that did not match the intensity of his words.

Her cheeks warmed once more but she smiled. Shaking her head she squeezed his hand three more times.

--

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[finallysafeawakepowerful]

What you decree to be true - is then made to be true

[ladykettlechips]

Made to Be, Chapter 8: Home Summary: The Bridgerton and Sharma families find themselves reunited at a garden tea party, and shenanigans are set to undoubtedly ensue.

Notes: Yes, the chapter count has gone up from 14 to 16. It may go up again at a later date, because right now I think it will go past 14 chapters at least. So, let's look forward to that.

Also, it took a while... I burnt out at work. I had an identity dilemma with this fic specifically. I finally accepted I just wanted this to be a fluffy, comfort type of fic, and I'm fine with that. I think. ANYWAY. ENJOY!

[sabrebash]

the joy of realizing someone is a similar type of freak as you

[androdragynous]

being on tumblr for a long time but never reading homestuck like

[hauntingrabbits]

comic

[paintedcrows]

Did anyone tell Ford (bonus doodles: Family Movie Night, 70s Classics)

[wizardnuke]

"skibidi toilet is ruining gen alpha" do none of you people remember asdf. i remember asdf.

[dinklebat]

an interaction im very tired of in online autism spaces. aka when you don’t have a special interest / when your special interest isn’t [character] or [fandom]

EDIT: if you’re confused on this post look at this version: https://www.tumblr.com/dinklebat/767829405172219904/some-of-you-did-not-understand-this-post-hope?source=share

also if you want to see column posts just check #column posting on my blog

EDIT 2: I turned reblogs off because you guys are literally acting like blue and I’m done.

[moss-sprout]

I'm starting a collection

[billskaarsgard]

Andrew Garfield talks to Elmo about grief and the passing of his mother

[1d1195]

Made to Be Extra II

This was easy to write because I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I know we're all waiting on a second part of a lot of other things (and a fourth part of Normal People) but that will come I promise.

This takes place two and half years after January.

You can read the rest of this series here: Made to Be

Warnings: None...a little mean/angsty at times.

She ignored him. Didn’t even glance at him in acknowledgment.

Sighing, he headed to bed. With a hand on the cold side of the mattress he actually Googled signs of falling out of love. But after reading too many that sounded like her, he locked his phone and closed his eyes.

August/September

Harry walked into the apartment that he shared with the woman of his dreams of nearly three and a half years. They had been trying to find a house for over a year, but the market continued to be outlandish.

And lately, it’s been put on hold due to her miserable attitude.

Harry hated to even think that way. Every thought he had about her was always beyond pure and lovely—he adored her. Always and foremost.

But Harry had never seen this side of her before, she was angry. All the time—for over a month. At first, he thought she was just having a bad day—it was exceedingly hot out in the middle of the summer, and she was agitated by the traffic she hit coming back from tutoring. However, the following days didn’t make her better. He tried walking on eggshells around her, trying to make the apartment clean and everything she wanted while she was out tutoring in the afternoons. But he never seemed to clean the right way. Or he moved something and then suffered the bitterness of her irritation of why he moved stuff. The dinner he made didn’t seem to be the food she wanted.

So, Harry looked at their wedding photos to keep him sane.

It was a rough patch; couples went through them every day, Harry always thought they’d be an exception, but here they were. She was plenty vocal about what was wrong, so he was certain it was nothing like her past relationship.

The album was on their coffee table (normally it was under the table on the little shelf, and she was happy to remind Harry that was where it belonged). But when she was out tutoring, he looked at how happy she was a little over a year ago, how gorgeous she looked—as she always looked; even angry she was still the most beautiful person he knew. The photos simply reminded him of another time she looked angelic...and happy. He thought about the dress hanging in their closet and how the flowers in her hair made her look like mother nature. He smiled like an idiot every time he opened the album looking at the pretty lady.

It was easily the second-best day of his life.

The first being the day he met her of course.

He heard the door open. Swiftly, he replaced the album on the shelf, leaned back on the couch, and picked up his book from the arm of the sofa. “Hi angel,” he called sweetly. She didn’t respond. He could hear the distinct sound of her settling her things down. Kicked her shoes off. Put her keys back on the hook. Slowly she emerged from the little entryway and Harry couldn’t even think about how mad she had been, she was so breathtaking it still amazed him. His lungs literally felt out of sync from his body. She was such a calming presence.

“Hi,” she said curtly.

Even when she was grumpy.

He smiled gently at her. “Did y’have a good lesson?”

She nodded and sat on the free chair—instead of the sofa beside him. “I’m hungry.”

“Can I make you something?” He asked, closing his book. “What would you like?”

She shrugged. “I...I kind of want tacos.”

“Well, we can go out then, m’love,” he suggested.

“Can we order in?”

“Sure, kitten,” he amended.

“Can you stop being so accommodating?” She grumbled.

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

She huffed in response. “I need to lie down; I have a headache,” she said standing to make her way to the hallway.

“Angel...” he started reaching for her wrist as she passed the back of the sofa.

“M’fine,” she mumbled pulling her hand away quickly. “Can you just order the tacos?”

He didn’t answer her because he didn’t want to be too accommodating.

*

The school year started with a hustle of things to do and things to buy. It distracted the two from how angry she had been the last month of summer. If Harry squinted, she was back to normal. He enjoyed seeing her from across the hall—especially because she looked like her old self most when she was back at the doorway smiling at students. She looked happy—even if she was pretending.

“Love,” he said softly as she was up late preparing her lesson. Her computer screen was illuminating her face. “Y’should get some sleep.” She ignored him. Didn’t even glance at him in acknowledgment. Sighing, he headed to bed. With a hand on the cold side of the mattress he actually Googled signs of falling out of love. But after reading too many that sounded like her, he locked his phone and closed his eyes.

She couldn’t be falling out of love. She was made to be in his life and Harry knew it with everything in him. It made more sense than anything he had experienced in his whole life. The earth took 365 days to rotate around the sun, Thursday went after Wednesday, and they were made to be in love.

But right now, it was feeling an awful lot like they weren’t.

*

“Can we take separate cars today?” She asked. Harry had just come out of the shower, and she was placing his tea on the counter.

“Uh...yeah, of course, love. Everything alright?”

“I promised the kids I’d watch their soccer game.”

“Oh...well, I could come along if y’want t’jus’ take the one—”

“That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll see you at school.”

Harry was beginning to feel utterly defeated.

*

Harry was working quietly during his off period. He had one headphone in, listening to music as he wrote the opening notes on his whiteboard for his next class. He didn’t think about how she lied to him about going to the game. Even though he really couldn’t think about anything else. The kids let it slip—unknowingly. He simply asked one of the boys how the game was, but they alerted him there wasn’t a game yesterday. Harry tried to think of how the conversation would go at home; how he was supposed to broach the subject to her.

“Mr. Styles!” Someone yelled.

Harry dropped his marker the minute he was called and hurried across the hall taking in the class of worried eyes as they looked from Harry to her and pointed at the love of his life. “What’s—”

“M’fine,” she murmured and held a hand to her forehead and swayed a bit leaning against her whiteboard. “It’s just really hot in here.”

“Whoa, hey, hey,” Harry quickly made it across the classroom, he knocked papers off someone’s desk and accidentally kicked a water bottle over. “Can you call the nurse?” He asked over his shoulder to the student near the phone. The second he had his hands at her arms, she collapsed against him. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. Hopefully, no one heard it—if they did, no one cared. Harry’s heart was racing as he held her up as best he could, the awkward angle she buckled into his arms made it hard to keep her from falling to the floor, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Holy shit!” A student gasped, but Harry couldn’t reprimand him because it was a needed expletive. And he was preoccupied.

Harry was anxious now. “Grab another teacher, please,” he said to the whispering class as he tried to pull her limp body to her desk chair. He hated that he was a teacher right now. He wanted to scream and whisk her out the door to the nearest hospital—he would carry her on foot if he had to. “Hey, love?” he asked, cupping her face as her eyelids fluttered rapidly. “Kitten, you with me?”

“Harry?” She croaked. Her eyebrows knitted together, and she blinked up at him so innocently she looked like the woman he adored so much—the one that didn’t hate him or lie to him.

“Hey,” he cooed softly rubbing his thumb along her temple. “Y’scared me, love. Y’alright?” He whispered.

“Yeah,” she mumbled. “S’hot.”

It wasn’t. It was cold and raw today—surprisingly for the unseasonably warm September. A cold front blew quite the rainstorm in overnight, so it wasn’t hot at all. “I know, love,” he hummed, his eyebrows pinched together in further worry. Something was very wrong. “We’re going to get you checked out.”

“No,” she said firmly. “M’fine.”

“Angel,” he chided so softly.

“No,” she repeated, stronger. “M’fine. Jus’ got a bit lightheaded.” In the entire time Harry knew her he had not once seen her lightheaded. Never had she ever fainted—not even when he hit the ball in her face. That didn’t mean she couldn’t, but Harry knew something was wrong and she was pretending it wasn’t. But again, they were teachers. And they were at school. Seventeen pairs of teenaged eyes looked at the two of them at the front of the class. She stood up as the nurse appeared in her doorway and quickly denied her help. “I’m fine, I just need to drink some water.”

“Love,” Harry protested.

“Stop,” she said pointedly to Harry. “M’sorry for the scare everyone, m’really fine,” she promised. “We can get back to our lesson now.” The nurse looked on suspiciously for a moment as she reset her slideshow and regrouped her students. They eyed her nervously, afraid to not do as she asked.

So, Harry had no choice but to go back to his classroom and try not to scream.

*

“Kitten,” Harry said softly from the living room. He couldn’t take it anymore. It was too much. All of it. Today was the last straw.

“Yeah?” She called back tiredly. He didn’t care if she was tired.

“Can we chat?” He asked tentatively. He kept his voice gentle. He didn’t want to command it but he needed her to hash all of this out. It was making him crazy. “C’mere.”

“Harry, I’m—"

So much for not being commanding. “S’not a request, love.” It was silent for a beat and then he heard her socked feet pad quietly down the hall. She looked at Harry in the chair by himself and she sat on the sofa—right in the middle. She crossed her arms around her body protectively. Closing herself off. It was a metaphor staring right at Harry and he hated it. She stared at the coffee table while Harry shifted his body toward her. He leaned forward on the chair and braced himself. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

“Nothing, you called me—”

He shook his head quickly and sighed. “No, kitten. Seriously. What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about, Harry?” She snapped. “I was in the middle of folding laundry—”

“It can wait,” he said rubbing his hand on the back of his head. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong! I’m just—”

He shook his head angrily, could feel his breath coming in shorter pants as he was getting agitated not knowing what was wrong. Harry got out of his seat and started pacing between the coffee table and the TV as he listed all the things that had been bothering him—particularly today. “Love, you’ve been mean for over a month. You’ve been acting like it’s m’fault for whatever is making you s’mad and I don’t know what t’do. You fainted in class today! Something is wrong and you have t’tell me. I can’t take this anymore!”

She looked so angry, but she didn’t look up to meet his gaze. He saw her fingers pressed into her palms and she stared at the coffee table. She was bracing herself. Harry watched her set her jaw as she started to lie again. “Nothing—”

Harry felt so completely frustrated. He ran his hands over his face. He married her for better or for worse and this had to be the “worse” and because it felt like it. It was so heartbreaking because all he wanted was to hold her like he did during class today—it was the first time he got to touch her face without her trying to wriggle away or try to avoid him in over a month. He was infuriated she fainted, but he was grateful he got to touch her. “It feels like y’don’t love me anymore, and I don’t know what—”

It immediately broke whatever she was feeling. Because she started to cry. “No,” she gasped. “No, Harry, that’s not true,” she sniveled and wiped her sleeve across her nose. Harry wanted to console her, wrap his arms around her and hold her so tightly, but he couldn’t because if he did, it wouldn’t solve anything. She would go on hating him and ignoring him. He wouldn’t get answers and wouldn’t know what to do to fix whatever was wrong.

“Y’told me I couldn’t silence y’out after that first fight, we had and you’ve been silencing me out for s’long, angel. The kids told me you didn’t go to the game yesterday because there was no game! And I don’t even care where y’went, I just don’t know why y’thought you had t’lie to me! M’going crazy, kitten. Certifiably crazy! I almost lost it today when y’wouldn’t let the nurse look you—”

“I did something bad, Harry,” she interrupted and covered her hand over her mouth. Harry took a breath and felt his heart race. He stopped pacing. “M’sorry,” she croaked around huge, body shaking sobs.

“Kitten?” He wondered; he couldn’t stop himself. His rant left his mind. She was truly wrecked about something, it made her so painfully sad, Harry could nearly taste it in the air. His mind spun what could be wrong. While she was crying Harry tried to piece out everything, he knew about what was happening. She was mean, lying about where she was, needed a separate car, and fainted in class today. He boiled it down to two options: she was either in love with someone else or she was terminally sick. “Angel?” He questioned again as the sobs wracked her frame.

“M'sorry,” she repeated and wiped her eyes. It was some terminal illness. Had to be. His tongue felt too thick. “You’re going to hate me.”

There was no way she was in love with someone else.

“Bad?” He managed. She was dying. Sick without a cure. It couldn’t be someone else. He would...

She nodded and covered her hand over her face and tried to regulate her breathing so she could talk. But if she was sick...his stomach churned. He couldn’t live without her. If she went, he would follow right behind her. It wasn’t fair, they’d only been married a year and she was so lovely—even when she was grumpy, she was still his favorite thing in the world. “Harry—”

“You’re in love with someone else?” Harry asked desperately. She couldn’t be sick.

“What?” She sniffled. “What did you just ask me?” The tears subsided just a bit for her attitude to reappear just a bit. He could almost hear the coldness in her tone for Harry deigning to ask her such a thing.

“You’re sick then?” He questioned, he finally came to her side, crouched on his knees and pulled her arms from around her shaking frame, he twined their fingers together and he felt so sick at the idea of losing her. “I don’t know, angel, m’jus so lost and I love you so much,” he said his face crumpling in pain that it made her feel nauseous. “I don’t want you to be sick and s’the only thing I can think of—you’re dying...and I can’t...imagine...you can’t leave, so it has to be you’re in love with—”

“No,” she shook her head sniffling still. “M’not sick, and you’re stupid for thinking I could ever love anyone else,” the grumpiness in her voice returned momentarily.

Harry felt relieved briefly. “Then what is it, kitten?”

She closed her eyes and sniffled. Harry felt her squeeze his hands for the first time in over a month and the pressure made everything in him warm. He waited anxiously for her lips to move and speak. “M’pregnant,” she whispered so quietly Harry wasn’t even sure she spoke; thought maybe his imagination had enough of guessing and worrying.

There was not a sound to be heard in the room. “What was that m’love?” He asked nervously.

She sniffled and inhaled shakily. “M’pregnant,” she whispered again.

Harry felt like his brain was broken. He wasn’t processing those words. Surely the cause of their strained relationship was not because she was pregnant, and she didn’t tell him. Harry tried to remember the last time he saw a tampon in the trash bin. He couldn’t remember. “Pregnant?” He repeated.

She nodded. “Yes,” she wiped her eyes and sniveled. “M’sorry,” she said, her lower lip wobbling ridiculously as she apologized. “M’so sorry for everything, Harry. I was mean and I was—I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want you to hate me and I—”

Harry shook his head trying to get some of the wires to cross and fire. “What are you...angel, why are you apologizing? Why...why would you think I’d hate you?” He asked.

“Because you don’t want to have a baby right now!”

“What are you talking about?” He said in shock. “Kitten,” he cupped her cheeks. “You’re going t’have a baby?” He repeated stupidly. She nodded.

Harry’s face broke into a smile, but she didn’t even get to enjoy how beautiful he looked with those deadly dimples and crinkly eyes because he pressed his lips to hers at the same time. He could taste all the salty tears she shed over the last few minutes on his tongue, and he pulled her to him as close as he could squeezing her as much as he could without worrying about the little baby growing in her body. She moaned softly against his lips making him sigh with relief. He pulled away finally, rested his forehead against hers. Rubbed his thumb along her cheek and brushed away the tears. “How long have you known, angel?” He asked softly.

“You’re not mad?” She whispered.

He shook his head. “How long, love?”

“A month. I had an appointment yesterday to confirm...I’m...seven weeks along.”

Harry felt the breath leave his lungs and he pressed a hand on her stomach. “Kitten.”

“You’re not mad?” She repeated.

“Angel, what are you talking about? ‘Course m’not mad,” he said pulling her toward him. He brought her fingers to his lips as he kissed each fingertip. “M’mad this little one made you faint, mad y’went to an appointment on your own, and mad you didn’t tell me. But not that you’re pregnant—why would I even be mad about—”

“You told me literally two months ago that we can’t have a baby because it’s not the right time; we don’t have a house and it would be a lot of work with all of our other obligations—”

“Oh my God,” Harry sighed in annoyance. He can vaguely hear the conversation in his head. He didn’t think much of it. It was a matter of fact—a house would be better to have before a baby. But it didn’t mean he was going to hate her if the baby came out of order. “Kitten, m’so madly, desperately, disgustingly in love with you...that is the dumbest thing you’ve ever said t’me.”

She frowned. “You’re not mad?”

“Kitten,” he sighed, if she asked one more time, he might actually get mad. “Have you seriously been grumpy for a month because you thought I’d hate you?” She nodded silently. Harry rolled his eyes. “And you didn’t tell me because?”

“I thought if...if I figured something out...like I wasn’t actually pregnant and just...I don’t know infertile...you’d hate me less.”

Harry blinked. “We’ll come back to that,” he shook his head. “Kitten,” he admonished.

“What?” She asked innocently.

“We’re going to have a baby,” he said with a smile growing on his face and he pulled her to his lap and wrapped his arms around her. It was like the first night they had ever spent together, snuggled onto the couch and her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. His hand pressed protectively over her stomach.

“You’re really not mad?”

“My God, love.”

She was quiet. “I was so sure you would be mad...I didn’t even think about...I didn’t imagine you could be happy.”

He tilted her chin up to gaze down at her. “You are the best thing in my life. You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever known. I vowed to keep you safe for as long as we live. A baby is going to be hard no matter when we have it,” he whispered. “Kitten, I love you and all the babies we’re ever going to have,” he promised. “You didn’t need to hide that from me, and you didn’t need to be mean.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “Harry, truly—”

“Angel, you’re about to carry a baby for us in your body for nine months and the silly little thing is going to ruin your hormones and make you do crazy things. You are forgiven now and always,” he said pressing his lips on her forehead.

She sighed, resting her head on his chest again. “Can we just stay like this for a while? I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered.

“Yes, kitten. Always,” he murmured. His thumb inched her shirt up a bit and he drew circles on her skin there. “I adore you,” he mumbled into her hair. The relief and happiness he felt in knowing she wasn’t going to feel so miserable about him anymore was overwhelming. He thought this would be the first night he’d sleep well since July. He was excited to hold her and the baby. “Both of you. Always,” he promised.

[finallysafeawakepowerful]

Hold yourself in that high regard you’ve never dared to. Experience being so much so everything else is rubbed out. Dare to shine bright. Dare to see yourself and be the absolute best version. Dare to expect the best. You can embody any state/ any world/ any version of you. The embodiment of whatever it is you decide takes you from superstition (all possible states/worlds) and places you into that embodiment.

[mudwisard]

my trick for getting through grad school is learning to navigate the quadrants with all their nuances

[ceaselessbasher]

I swear to god one of these days were going to see a video of Amaury Guichon and he's going to be making some wings and they are going to look dope as hell, the detail of each feather will be breathtaking, he'll spray paint them to perfection, but as the video goes on, he's not building any sort of winged creature, just the wings. And then there's a human-sized harness (also made of chocolate, somehow, he can do it). And he's attaching the wings to the harness. And he's putting the harness on and he demonstrates how he can flap the wings. And then he'll be off. Out the window and up and up and up. And we'll be looking at the livestream (it's a livestream now) and we'll scream "No, Amaury, the sun! It's going to melt the wings!". But he knows this already. And he is free.