#molly: hell yes this is the best revelation ever-

[pxppinmolly-archived]

The day this happens did Molly learn the feeling of Playing God and absolutely would instigate for this shit to happen further if only because it’s funny to her.

Based on stuff talking w @shakesinshake with Molly and Striker working under Ozzie together and he plays part of being a body guard for her. uwu

I wanted to doodle this scenario out rlly quick because I cant stop laughing about it

[maximoff-pan]

l’amore de ma vie | fred weasley

Summary: When Fred invites you to Bill and Fleur’s wedding, your feelings for your best friend are stronger than ever before. What happens when you realize just how much you love him?

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Fluff...i-is that a warning?? Anyway buckle up for some sickly sweet goodness....

A/n: I know, I’m terrible. It’s been a little while longer than I’d intended but I hope this makes up for it! Feedback is very very much appreciated! I love seeing what all of you think of my writing! Without further rambling from me....enjoy!

Sidenote: This is a total AU. It completely deviates from canon, as Bill and Fleur’s wedding goes smoothly in this version. No violence here haha...only happiness! (I guess what I’m trying to say is, in no way shape or form is this an accurate recollection of the books, this is purely from my imagination...)

• • • • •

“Fucking weddings...” you mutter as you walk through the massive white tent that adorns the front lawn of the Weasley residence. Everything is perfectly displayed, tables meticulously set, with delicate flowers littering the venue.

The romance of it all makes you want to throw yourself into Bill and Fleur’s masterfully crafted, six-tier cake. And watching as Molly rushes in and out swiftly with the brightest smile on her face, it all reminds you of how you should be getting ready right now. But you just can’t stomach that.

It’s not that you’re not happy for Bill....you’re ecstatic and you absolutely adore him. He’s been a role model for you almost your entire life. And it’s not like you’re not an absolute romantic, because you are...but weddings always make things complicated. They manage to dig up feelings that you’d rather not confront.

Feelings for a certain Weasley twin...

That’s why when he (said twin) and George invited you to the wedding, you were reluctant to say yes. It’s hard to pin point exactly when you felt your friendship with Fred (at least on your end), morph into something more, but you’ve managed to keep your feelings for him locked away for the better part of four years. And as far as you’re aware, the only person that’s truly caught on is Hermione...because you’re convinced at this point that she just knows damn well everything.

“Something on your mind?” A voice startles you, bringing your attention back to the bustling world surrounding you.

Turning around slowly, you’re greeted with Bill’s towering figure. You huff out a quick, teasing laugh. “You know, it’s not nice to interrupt a lady’s thoughts.”

“Forgive me,” he chimes with a chuckle of his own.

Bill knows your humour, and he knows you well enough to recognize when you’re using it as a defence mechanism.

“It just looks like you’re about ready to make a run for it,” he continues, “and I wanted to make sure my favourite guest doesn’t ditch me on my wedding day.”

“You know I would never ditch you.”

Bill sends you a look, clearly not impressed by your jokes. You can tell he knows something’s wrong, but you don’t want to be the first one to bring it up.

“I’m fine.” You reassure with a soft smile. “I promise.”

He only nods at you, and he’s not quite sure if he’s convinced, but he’s confident things will work out in the end. “You know, I best be getting ready.” He grins wide. You reciprocate his grin with an additional giggle.

“You best be. Or else Fleur might divorce you on the spot.”

“Wouldn’t that be a shame.” Bill shifts his weight from foot to foot. “I’d have the record for the shortest marriage in wizarding history! Mum would have an absolute shit fit.”

You both burst into a fit of laughter, before you’re nudging him out of the tent and towards his home.

There’s a comfortable pause of silence as Bill thinks to himself. He can see it in your eyes exactly what you’re thinking about. Having been around you for years and Fred even longer, and watching the two of you grow up together, he knows what’s troubling you. Bill Weasley is not a stupid man, and he knows love when he sees it. Better yet, he knows the fear of losing that love that runs rampant in your mind. If Bill has learned anything in his years on this earth, it’s that love allows for the greatest of happiness but it also allows for the greatest manifestation of fear. Unrequited love can be more painful than the relief of returned feelings, but Bill Weasley knows you both well enough to know that these feelings you and his brother share, they’re anything but unrequited.

“I should probably be getting ready too.” You break the silence and remind yourself of the upcoming event as you step through the front door of the Burrow.

You both turn to each other, acknowledging your parting of ways. You hear Arthur shouting for his oldest son from above. “I guess that’s my cue.” Bill simply nods in the direction of the staircase, taking a step towards it. You stand still, just watching him for a moment.

He leans his head over his shoulder for a brief second, already a few steps up the winding stairs. “Oh and (Y/n),” he breathes, “my brother may be an oblivious twat, but to give him some credit, I see the way he looks at you, and I’d be blind to say he isn’t in love with you too.”

In love with you too....

And as soon he’s said it, the cheeky bastard’s disappeared up the stairs, leaving you dumbfounded and completely still.

Fucking hell. Your mind wanders, his words at the forefront....so apparently Bill knows and surely if Bill knows, George must too. Are your feelings for Fred that obvious?

• • • • •

You step through the doorway to Fred and George’s room hoping to find a certain twin. You spot him sitting cross legged on his bed, fiddling with a prototype for the shop that you’re sure you’ve seen him working on before. His ginger hair is messily in his face, his tongue sticking out in concentration. He’s the picture of a working artist....pranking materials being his art. You heave a sigh. Like you, he’s nowhere near ready for the wedding that is going to take place in a few hours.

“Do you know?” His head whips up at the sound of your voice. It’s such a vague question, one in which a normal person would question what it itself is in relation to, but George knows exactly what you’re getting at. But maybe he’ll screw with you a little first....

“I know lots of things love. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

A groan passes your lips. Maybe he doesn’t know....but the way his lips are turned upward, the smirk that seems to be growing on his face tells you otherwise. You’re not blind; you know the games George Weasley likes to play.

“Don’t be coy asshole.” You send him a look that says ‘try me.’ “I know you know. My question is, why haven’t you told me that you know?”

“I haven’t a clue what you mean.” He continues testing the waters of your frustration, seeing just how far he can go before you snap.

“Oh fuck me!” You exclaim, hands thrown up in the air. You point at him, eyes narrowing in his direction. “You’re a prick George.”

His grin only widens. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got the wrong twin (Y/n). Last time I checked, Freddie’s the one you want to fuck.” He says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

And....Bingo. There it is. The exact confirmation you wanted and feared.

You recoil, eyes widening at him. Your voice goes soft, serious. “Why didn’t you tell me that you knew?”

His warm eyes meet yours, a calmness to them that is surprisingly reassuring. “I’ve made a living out of not taking things seriously and meddling in other people’s lives (Y/n), but what you and Fred have, I won’t meddle in that.” He pauses for a moment, his voice softening. “It’s not my business to push you two together. You’ll realize it at your own pace.”

“Realize what at your own pace?” Fred leans his body against the doorframe. He’s dressed in a suit, his hair done up nicely, and unlike his twin, he looks entirely put together. The irony almost makes you laugh. You’ve always known George to be the prepared one, ready hours before he needed to be. And Fred a scambler, leaving everything to the last second, to be fashionably late was his life motto.

“Just how stupid the two of you are going to look all dressed up with no dates.” George answers for you, keeping the true nature of your conversation a secret. “Even Ginny’s managed to catch the chosen one.”

You huff out a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

“Ah,” George muses. “But I am an idiot with a date.”

Fred grins at the two of you and your banter. “Angelina’s better off without you as her date.” He jokes.

A laugh passes your throat, Fred joining in with you. “Oh, sod off!” George pipes before shoving the two of you out to get ready.

• • • • •

Hours later you find yourself ready on time, a shocking revelation to you and each of the Weasley’s. And George is too. He sits beside you grinning like a mad man. Fred is on your other side, smiling all the same.

The ceremony is wonderful and quaint. You knew the moment you saw Fleur all those years ago, just how beautiful she was, but you never could have imagined just how much you’d grow to think of her like a sister. And it’s funny because you’re neither a Delacour nor a Weasley, and yet you feel like you belong. It’s different from the love you know Harry and Hermione feel for the Weasley’s, because ultimately, they’ll both marry in and it will be official, and as much as you love Fred, you know that will likely never be the case for you. But that’s the thing you love most about Molly and Arthur and their children: you don’t have to be related by marriage or blood to be a Weasley.

And seeing Fleur and Bill smile, seeing the pure happiness that they exude in this moment, it makes you forget why you ever questioned coming. It makes you hope that one day you can find what they have. You’d spent the last few minutes mesmerized by their first dance as a married couple. You’re so caught in a trance that you don’t hear the clapping when they’ve finished and stepped off the dance floor.

Your eyes snap up at the clearing of a throat beside you. George nudges you and you turn to look at him. He points at Fred who’s gazing at you curiously. You must have looked like a daft idiot, an utter love struck expression on your face.

“I’m sorry.” You laugh. “Did you say something Freddie?”

“Dance with me?” He asks.

Fred’s question lingers as you contemplate whether or not to accept his outstretched arm. But then your eyes drift up to his, and you catch the mischievous glint that rests in them. It’s in that moment that you know there is no turning back.

Groaning, you relent into his touch. “One dance.” You say, but you know that if he asked, you’d dance the night away.

The grin that spreads onto his face is nothing short of beautiful. It’s unmistakably perfect the way the light catches his features, his ginger hair glowing in the overcast moonlight, and an ethereal aura glistens from his skin. Fred looks youthful...and he looks undeniably happy.

Gripping your hand, he leads you to the dance floor. You catch a brief glimpse of Bill whose lips are tugged into an encouraging smile. Fred snaps your attention back to him as he pulls you into his body, bringing your arms to rest around his shoulders. You can hear the faint thrumming of the slow and melodic music drifting towards you, but all you register is the sound of Fred’s heart beating against yours. Wrapping yourself in his embrace, you allow yourself one second to believe that he might feel the same.

Your feet move in sync almost flawlessly, and it’s as if you’re reading each other’s movements without any effort. (Despite being known for your clumsy nature). But if you’re being honest, it’s always been like that with Fred....easy that is. Easy to read each other, easy to be with each other. It’s just natural. 

“You’re quite graceful Freddie.” You nudge him playfully, breaking the silence between you. 

“And you’re quite...” his voice drifts softly, “something.”

The half scoff, half laugh you let out rings in his ears. “Are you implying that I’m not a good dancing partner?”

“You’re a formidable partner love, just a shit dancer.”

Your eyes light up in amusement. “Well we can’t all be as graceful and beautiful as you Fred Weasley.”

He plays along happily. “No.” He agrees. “I guess we can’t. But I reckon everything else about you, your beauty, your wit, your affinity for kindness, makes up for your lack of dancing skills.”

It’s that self assured attitude that draws you to him. Yet he’s not the slightest bit arrogant. He simply believes in himself, knows his strengths and his weaknesses, is completely aware of his self worth, and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise. It’s addicting to be around, and a quality so desperately you wish you could find in yourself.

And when Fred compliments you, you can believe that he’s telling you the truth. He makes you believe things about yourself that you would never dream to think about on your own. As cheesy as it sounds, he makes you feel seen. He makes you feel special. And it’s so strange because for as long as you can remember, everyone has always thought of you as merely the best friend of the infamous Weasley twins. Hardly to anyone had you been your own person with your own identity. But Fred never made you feel like that. You’ve always been someone to him, not just a product of who you chose to be friends with.

“You shouldn’t say things like that you know.” Your voice goes quiet.

Fred notices the change in your body language as you begin to close yourself off from him. “Why not?” He asks. “It’s the truth isn’t it?”

Your eyes catch his and your breath hitches. This feels like something. It feels like a moment, the moment that you’ve been waiting for. You never believed Fred could ever feel the same for you, but the look he’s giving you feels so so real.

“Fred, do you-“ You start, but he cuts in for you.

“Feel it too?” He finishes.

“Yeah.”

“I do.” He replies.

Your heart races in your chest as he pulls you closer into his embrace. This confession of feelings is nearly wordless, and yet it feels perfect. You’ve never needed to say a lot to Fred for him to understand you.

You’ve always just had that kind of connection.

You barely notice that you’re still dancing, your bodies moving on autopilot. And the people around you fade to nothing. Your focus is solely on the man who holds your heart in his hands.

Your movements slow as Fred tilts your chin towards his face. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 11 years old.” He says. It’s nearly impossible for your mind to process it. “I’ve known for so long, I just didn’t want to ruin what we have. But I reckon if there’s ever a time to do it, now seems pretty good.”

A gentle smile rests on your face, your heart warm at his words. “Now is perfect.”

Fred hums softly, his warm brown eyes searching yours for any sign of regret. He sees nothing but adoration staring right back at him.

“Can I kiss you?” This is the first time you’ve seen Fred so timid.

You smile coyly, nodding your head. “Such a gentleman.” You tease, pulling him gently towards you. Your lips meet so softly and briefly that you almost miss it.

But no matter how brief, it’s a feeling you’ll never forget. You both want more of each other, but you also know that standing in front of Fred’s immediate and extended family and friends, you can’t simply put on a show for the world to see, as much as he wants to.

You pull back for a moment only to find yourself wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying to the music. Most people in your situation would say something. Maybe they’d profess their love, or whisper sweet nothings into their lover’s ear, but right here, right now, words don’t need to be used.

You don’t need to say I love you to feel that you are loved. And you know Fred feels the same.

• • • • •

Off to the side, Bill takes a moment to part from his wife, approaching his younger brother with a shit eating grin.

“Bloody hell.” George runs a hand through his hair, spotting Bill striding towards him.

Their eyes lock for a moment and George notices his oldest brother’s lip quirk upward. “You owe me 20 galleons.” Bill states matter-of-factly.

George grumbles, reaching into his pocket to pull out the payment. Handing it to Bill, he smiles. “Get back to your wife you tosser.”

Bill nods, taking a step towards Fleur. He turns to face his brother, eyes glinting with mischief. “Just know, when they get married, I’m telling everyone I won.”

///////////////////

Taglist:

@amourtentiaa

[txtdreamss]

mirrorball // [g.w.]

sequel to tolerate it

warnings: angst, fem!reader

summary: It’s been 2 weeks since George told you he has a date to the yule ball. As of now, it’s the night before and you are reflecting on your feelings for him and wondering if you can continue as his best friend.

word count: 1.5k

A/N: So, here it is! I am hoping to get this posted as soon as possible for those of you who wanted to see a part 2 to tolerate it. I had a really difficult time deciding on how I wanted to end this, and I really hope it pleases you guys (not sure I’m happy with the ending, but that is to be expected). Sorry in advance for any errors, as this is a one-woman show and I sometimes miss my own mistakes. :) Special thanks to @ajusquishy for being the first to ask about this addition to tolerate it!

*****

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

The past 2 weeks had been the most difficult time of your life. George had been following Alicia around like a lost puppy, and even Fred was getting sick of it. Oddly enough, it seemed like George couldn’t get through one interaction with you without mentioning the girl’s name.

“Oh Y/N, we decided to match my tie to her dress!”

“Did you know she said I am the cutest quidditch player she has ever met?”

“I’m thinking about asking mum to knit her a sweater this Christmas!”

At first you could handle it. As his best friend of nearly 6 years, it was your job to handle it. Why didn’t that make any of this easier?

There wasn’t a change in George that you had neglected to notice. Hell, your heart dropped when he showed up with a new bruise after quidditch practice. You were the one who had told him to grow his hair out (and damn, was that a good piece of advice). George had even been with you when he chose his first pair of dress robes for merlin’s sake!

Molly Weasley saw you as her stand-in while the boys and Ginny were at Hogwarts. Of course, she didn’t know that George and Fred had grown in their pranking abilities thanks to your sugar-sweet exterior, but that didn’t change the role you played in the Weasley children’s life. You were the responsible friend who also just happened to lead a double life when it came to the twins.  It was thanks to you that they had received only 3 detentions this quarter, and it was their fault that you now had an affinity for “accidentally” leaving dung bombs in the outer pockets of Cormac McLaggen’s bag.

“Hey, Y/N... I haven’t seen you around much. You aren’t avoiding me, are ya?” George’s baritone voice broke you out of your thoughts. He settled his arms on the top of your head, and sighed deeply, letting his head drop. “Fred and I need your help figuring out what the best escape route from the dungeons is.”

“Go ask Lee, he can do some math too.” Yes, you were being harsh, but George’s presence was enough to shatter any semblance of self control you still had left.  “Now, if you excuse me, I have a study date with some ancient runes and Hermione.”

As you stalked out of the common room, George couldn’t bear to bring up how he hadn’t been able to come up with any solid pranks in exactly 14 days.

*****

You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Tonight was the night; your hair was curled to perfection, and the gown your mother had sent you was the color of holly. The heels you had strapped on were a matte black dusted with the occasional piece of red glitter. Despite the fact that George was not your date, you couldn’t help my let your thoughts drift to him as you got ready. Would he think you looked pretty? Would he think you looked as good as her?

Lee tapped you on the shoulder, and you steadied yourself before letting him gently grab your hand. “Don’t let that prat get you down. You look like a goddess, Y/N. Now, let’s go show Georgie what he is missing.” 

Lee was a great friend for doing this for you; he knew about your feelings (Fred apparently can’t keep his mouth shut), and immediately became set on helping you get back on your feet. He had become your greatest cheerleader as of late, and claimed that George doesn’t know it, but he definitely has feelings for you.

As you both walked into the great hall, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. There were snowflakes and all types of seasonal decor strung up across the room, and it was almost like the room had transformed into a winter dreamscape. Fred and George had beat you there, already sipping punch with Angelina and Alicia.

“You boys clean up nice.” The twins and Lee let out a chorus of ‘hey’s, clearly displeased with your mockery of their appearances.

“Oi, I was betting 5 galleons that Fred would show up in his trainers...” George’s voice was surprisingly meek, almost as if he was looking for your approval with his jabs towards his brother.

The boys immediately began discussing their plan to spike the punch bowl with firewhiskey, and Angelina and Alicia launched into a conversation about where they had purchased their gowns. You felt more than out of place at this point, and decided to relocate after notifying Lee that you’d be fine on your own for a bit. Almost immediately after, Angelina went to distract McGonagall while Fred and Lee snuck under the table of refreshments.

You went to talk with Hermione and the younger trio, and were drawn into a lesson in muggle dancing.

“No, Ron, that is not how you hit the woah.” (I’m sorry I felt so inclined to include this cuz the image makes me chuckle lol).

“Well, ‘Mione, why don’t you and Y/N show us how this is done then?” Harry and Ron crossed their arms, and Hermione slipped her arm around your shoulders.

“C’mon, Y/N. You look like you could use something fun.” She dragged you onto the dance floor, and you both began dramatically spinning each other to the sound of your wheezing laughter.

If only you had noticed a certain red-headed prankster gazing at you like you had hung the stars in the sky...

*****

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Fred and Angelina had taken to the floor as soon as the waltzing began. After watching them twirl to the crescendos of the music, you finally decided enough was enough. All it too was a look at Lee, and he understood what you needed to do. You slipped out of the doors to the great hall, and found yourself wandering amongst the carriages powdered with snow, occasionally stopping to draw shapes into the piles of flakes.

Following five-ish minutes of mucking about, you finally decided to sit on the steps that bridged the courtyard and the hallways. Snowflakes continued floating, but you quickly realized the droplets of water on your face were from small tears and not the weather. Sniffles escaped your nose, and you crossed your arms in a poor attempt to keep warm despite your lack of sleeves.

Out of nowhere, you felt heavy cloth drop onto your bare shoulders.

“Be careful, love. Ya look like you’re halfway to becoming an ice lolly.” George shuffled his long, lanky body onto the steps. You looked at him through your lashes, and he seemed almost squeamish.

“Don’t you have Alicia waiting for you inside? I’m sure she wouldn’t be thrilled to see you out here.”

“Bloody hell, Y/N, I think we have been pretty dense.” Confusion evident on your features, George let his larger hand cover yours. “I didn’t want to ask Alicia. I wanted to ask you.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been talking my ear off about how much you like her for weeks now...”

“I was trying to make you jealous.” Silence overtook the interaction.

“So you’re saying that we both have been blind to our feelings?” 

George let out a small chuckle, and pulled his hand away. To be quite honest, you felt like maybe you had been ignoring the signs: the subtle stares, the extended physical contact, the willingness to be there whenever and wherever you asked him to.

“I think we may want to start over and forget the last few weeks.”

“I think I would quite like that.” You stood up, and brushed the snow off your skirt before extending your hand towards George. “Well, George, the yule ball is in... now... would you like to be my date?”

“I would enjoy that a bunch, Y/N.” He took your hand, and pulled you into his chest. “May have a dance to start off the evening?”

“...There isn’t any music.” You chuckled, but George simply grinned at you before beginning to hum.

“Problem solved. So, may I have this dance?”

“You may.” You dropped your head into the nook of his shoulder, and George began to sway and spin you, leaving 2 pairs of footprints in the snow beneath your feet.

From just beyond your view, Fred, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia let out somewhat of a “oomph” and high-fived each other before turning to go back inside.

Shining just for you.

[minaminokyoko]

Peace Talks Reactions

Hey, Dresden Fandom. You guys may or may not be knee deep in Peace Talks, but if you are, I welcome you to the below reactions, in handy dandy bullet form. I would love to discuss the book if you’re interested, whether you reblog with comments or shoot me a chat. I just finished the book, so all spoilers are below the Read More tag. 

Woof. Well, at least it was something after six fucking years of waiting.

·         So before Butcher’s giant hiatus, we had this first chapter of Peace Talks already and I have to say I still feel like I felt six years ago: I don’t really know where he’s going with Thomas becoming a father. In terms of what that will do for him as a character. For Harry, it’s different. Harry keeps it close to the chest with his decisions, willing to die for the greater good in an instant, and becoming a father made him have to be more careful and thoughtful in his actions to be sure he can be there for his baby girl. I’m not sure where Butcher is going with this for Thomas, but I guess we’ll see.

·         I was pleased to find out Harry decided to stick with the protected apartment and is trying his best on Dad duty. Me gusta.

·         Right, let’s get to the first big elephant in the room: Ebenezar. Oh my fucking God. I want to punch his fucking lights out. My friend and I have argued about his reaction to seeing Thomas at the apartment already. I know Eb has Harry by a thousand years or more in experience, but it pisses me off that Eb can’t be bothered to learn more about Thomas. Nope. Just skip straight to irrational anger.  It was also disappointing to find out that Eb is not a part of Harry’s life as much as I thought he was in the past, so clearly he doesn’t understand how important Thomas is to him. I’m a bit miffed that Harry didn’t explain Thomas is his half-grandson to help him understand, but at the same time, Harry might be worried about what that revelation will do. Either way, it displays a massive lack of trust in Harry. To think Harry—who has survived all this fucking shit from the supernatural world so far—is just a pawn and he doesn’t know how incredibly dangerous the White Court is. Eb is downright disrespectful and insulting to his own grandson. I’m sorry, but I think he’s being an asshat in huge proportions by just thinking Harry is too stupid to know better and by not asking him why he feels loyal to Thomas.

·         In that same vein, Eb’s whole thing about wanting Harry to leave Maggie somewhere can kiss my ass. I’m with Harry on this one. It’s not that I don’t trust the foster care system and I think anything negative about adoption, either. Maggie is a target because she’s a Dresden. That’s it. There is nothing she can ever do about it. She is the daughter of Harry Dresden, Captain fuckin’ Disaster of the supernatural world. There is no place she can go where she will be safe and Harry is honestly her best shot at being watched over and protected, but not only that, if she’s gonna be in danger her whole life, she might as well be loved and cared for by her father too. Harry brings up such a good point about feeling abandoned and rejected and how Eb’s “protection” jag didn’t work for Margaret either. I know he wants what’s best for her, but I agree that Maggie has a better chance of surviving at Harry’s side than somewhere else. Hell’s bells, that’s how this whole fucking thing started anyway. Susan’s bitch ass hid the kid and it didn’t work. Sheesh.

·         And now the other elephant in the room: Murphy. I think part of me forgot how severe her injuries were. I had assumed months of PT and such would allow her to be mobile again, but then I read Chapter 5 and now I’m just angry and hurt. You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. You just don’t. I can’t help it. Murphy is my favorite, goddamn it. I’ve reread the books where she’s helping Harry the most because their dynamic is so phenomenal. They’re my OTP. She is one of the best written female characters I’ve ever known, so ripping her ability to be at Harry’s side away is so…2020. It’s just a nasty, horrible thing and it’s shot my excitement for this novel right in the foot. I didn’t realize how important it was to me that Murphy is Harry’s badass ace in the hole until I was told she’ll be lucky to walk again. I know things have to get worse for characters in order for them to grow, but fuck this so much. I am praying she gets a magical contract or healing or a wish or something so she’s back in action or I’m done.

·         With that same elephant, fuck Jim Butcher for skipping over the foreplay at the end of Chapter 5. Yes, I said it. Fuck him. I know he thinks it’s funny to frustrate us, but this is an act of betrayal of the highest order. Why? Because I’ve waited TWENTY FUCKING YEARS for Harry and Murphy to go canon, and what does he do the first time we, the audience, get to see them in a relationship? Cut to curtains fluttering. Fuck you. We deserved that foreplay scene. No, I will NOT use my fucking imagination, pun intended. I just paid you $15 to use YOUR imagination, Jim. You spent fifteen books building up the trust, love, loyalty, and sexual tension of these two characters. That’s countless words and countless pages. And now that they’re FINALLY together, nope, skip it. Skip what should have been something intimate and powerfully emotional. Ha-ha-fucking-ha. I hope you step on a Lego barefoot. I will try to have faith that Butcher will give us what we want—a canon version of Chapter 14 of Skin Game—but if he doesn’t, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.

·         The thought of Mab and Lara Raith working together is utterly terrifying. No. Just no. Ugh, there are bad times ahead. I also thought it was kind of contrived that Lara is owed favors, which forces Harry to not be able to say no, and I think it’s a bit lazy on Jim’s part for this convenient block to be there and he can’t refuse the favors. It just felt like he didn’t want to put the energy into painting Harry into a corner this time, so here, a convenient favor. That being said, I cackled when Mab called him a bowl of porridge. That was legitimately hilarious. What a bitch.

·         Mm, Harry just called Murphy his girlfriend. I’ve waited twenty years for that alone. *happy sigh*

·         Oh, great. Someone sent Thomas to assassinate someone. I’m betting blackmail, whether he admits to it or not.

·         LOL @ Harry’s cursing policy with Maggie.

·         Harry. Don’t. Make. Promises. EVER.

·         I would not be the least bit surprised if this assassination attempt is Mab’s idea to cut off all of Harry’s allies but her so he will have no choice but to use her protection more often. Mab is a cold fuckin’ piece. Pun intended.

·         Harry, for real, do not square up with Ebenezar. You are a wolf, for sure, but that man is a werewolf by comparison.

·         I’m getting real tired of Ebenezar’s anti-vampire schtick. I get it. They’re bad. Now shut up.

·         This is so unfortunate: I’ve been missing Lara Raith just because she’s a hoot but with this whole favor thing and Harry and Murphy being fitted for chastity belts, I’m more tired than anything else.

·         Oh, neat, one of Gard’s sisters!

·         Of course Lara knows about Thomas being Ebenezar’s grandson. It’s Lara.

·         Oh, good, I’m sure whatever deal Harry just made with Molly isn’t stupid or reckless.

·         Yes, Sanya is a VERY weird man. That is an understatement, Butters.

·         Aha. I had a hunch it was River Shoulders and not the Genoskwa.

·         And oh good, the Genoskwa’s not dead. Yay. I hate you, Butcher.

·         Now there is a good tidbit of story for the series: that the reason everything is accelerating into bad news is we’re about to hit that 666 year mark that people are talking about, where the even worse shit hits. We’ve had small clues about Harry being starborn and this helps provide context for the shit that happens to him. I hope it’s not a Chosen One scenario, but it does explain why he’s been in so many scrapes and why he’s made it out of them so far. However, I tend to dislike destiny in most stories. It can get tedious. We’ll see what’s in store.

·         Ugh, and there it is, but I already knew Lara was gonna make poor Harry break Thomas out from the book trailer anyhow. Sigh.

·         Murphy calling the White Council useless is a fuckin’ mood and a half. I swear, they ain’t nothing but useless since these books first started. Harry hit the nail on the head earlier with Carlos and the Wardens, that they spend a lot of time talking at Harry but not listening. That’s been their entire M.O. from the start. They don’t listen to anything he has to say; they just insist they know better and that he should fall in line, not caring about what he has on said line, which is very often innocent lives. I love the hypocrisy of them preaching to him about making cold, rational decisions when it’s not their asses who have to deal with the consequences. Yes, there is fallout from what Harry does, but the opposition is always there and it doesn’t act solely based on what Harry Dresden does. I really fucking hate the Council at this point.

·         So we get a second of tender kissing in the tub and an “I love you” and then Butcher cuts away again. I am so over it. I don’t have enough energy to put towards how angry he’s making me right now and he doesn’t deserve it anyway. I cannot believe he spent all this time building this relationship up and then makes it canon and won’t touch it. Fuck you.

·         Murphy immediately spotting all three of Harry’s tails is life. God, I love my bad bitch.

·         I do like that Harry has been practicing his Veils. That’s smart. It also shows character development and wisdom that he’s recognizing how much more useful stealth is and that even though it’s hard for him, it’s worth the effort to learn. Good book boyfriend.

·         It’s still Murphy, bitch. Injured or not. My queen is a queen. Try her if you want, Freydis.

·         PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT MURPHY YOU POOR CATHOLIC DARLING COME HERE. That pass was hilariously unexpected in a book that hasn’t been all that funny so far. Thanks, Jim. That got a whole bunch of cackling out of me.

·         “I like your brother.” I just clapped and squealed. I mean, duh, of course Murphy likes Thomas, but this pleases me greatly to hear her say it aloud. Murph is tough and doesn’t like to say stuff like that out loud usually. I’m delighted.

·         For all my complaints, I appreciate Butcher bringing Murphy in to help Harry plan everything. She’s hella smart and experienced in matters where you need to get someone out without being all guns a-blazing. And it is an apology for her being benched halfway thru Skin Game, imo.

·         Oh, shit. Harry doesn’t know Molly’s the one who attacked Carlos. Ugh. I bet this is gonna explode in someone’s face.

·         And Harry just fucked up the rest of his friendship with Carlos, not know Molly already did the same thing. Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeat.

·         “You just went from a three to a six.” Jesus Christ, immortals are so savage, I swear. I laughed, tho. That was mean as hell.

·         I’m dying that Freydis wants a threesome with Harry and Murphy. I mean, who can blame her? Fuck, I want a threesome with Harry and Murphy, if I’m being totally honest here. The thirst is so fucking real.

·         Finally, someone made a joke about Harry and Murphy getting together.

·         Ah, this IS what I missed about Lara, though—she loves to fuck with Harry for the lolz and nothing other than the lolz. I mean, he’s such a peach. I would do the same thing.

·         Also, Jim, for God’s sake, make up your mind about vampires getting burned! I don’t get it. Thomas can touch Harry, and Harry is and always has been loved, so when do vampires get burned and when do they not? We’ve seen Harry touch Lara even when Susan was still alive and remember the kiss in White Night? MAKE UP YOUR GODDAMN MIND. I had a debate about this with another fan because it’s so goddamn inconsistent! If anyone being loved by anyone else burns them, then that would mean the entire world would be in the know about White Court vampires because they’d get burnt left and right touching people who are loved. I thought it only happens if they try to feed, not just touching each other. I think Jim needs to pay better attention to his own lore or finally spit out an explanation. We’ll see if he does later with that whole kiss thing from the book trailer, I guess. Argh! *Yosemite Sam curses*

·         I’m really starting to hate Harry’s condition and the fact that he didn’t stop to ask Eb what it is or how to stop it. Ugh.

·         Oh, good, and now everyone will think Harry and Lara are a couple. Convenient. Like they don’t already have constant trust issues. I’m sure Eb won’t block a gasket or anything.

·         Oh, yay, a Malcolm Dresden flashback! This is a delightful surprise. Like a lot of the fanbase, we’ve always wanted to know more about him. He seemed like a good man.

·         Yay! Vadderung to the rescue!

·         Okay, I do NOT like Murphy being alone with a starving Thomas and Lara. Not one little bit.

·         Ah, so the goddess Ethniu gets introduced in this book. That’s why Peace Talks got split and then Battle Ground popped out as the next book.

·         “You’re out of the White Council if you do this.” FUCK YOU, EBENEZAR. Jesus Christ, fuck you. All the Council has EVER done is use and abuse Harry Dresden. They have constantly blamed him for everything or forced him to fight their goddamn battles. You can shove it right up your old crusty ass for all I care. I am sick to death of this belief that they are just so righteous and trustworthy and good when they’re self-important douchebags who think that people are ants and can’t be bothered to protect them unless it directly benefits the Council.

·         I think I’m angriest because up until this point, Ebenezar has been mostly reasonable and it feels inorganic that Jim pushed him this hard. It’s just kind of exhausting because it feels like the plot needs Eb to lose his shit instead of it being something natural. I won’t be shocked if we find out he’s been compromised somehow, but I guess I’ll have to find out myself.

·         Murphy is right on the money. We thought we knew Eb, but we REALLY don’t. And that sucks. A lot. Especially since Harry has barely any family at all.

·         I can honestly tell why this book took Jim six years to write. It’s awful stagnant. It’s the exact same reason that the first draft of Of Fury and Fangs kicked my ass. I wrote the story in the first draft incorrectly, in a way, because all the characters were passive for the most part, and the other half of the problem was that I got halfway through this book and thought up an idea for a better book, but in order for the better book to happen, there were too many things I couldn’t ignore in this one, so I still had to finish it and make it good. Peace Talks, to me, feels like it’s obligatory to set up the next book, and maybe that’s why it feels lackluster to me. It’s a transitional book, which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s definitely in the bottom five of the entire series. Transitional books aren’t bad, but they aren’t good either. Most authors know that this tends to happen if you write a trilogy. All the really big, important shit tends to happen in the first and third book if you’re not careful. In this case, yeah, there’s stuff happening, but it’s largely passive. It’s kind of like why back in 2010 people were so hard on Iron Man 2—it spent all this time setting up shit for the MCU, which in the long run is a good thing, but that makes it weak when it tries to stand on its own. 

As it stands, Peace Talks is mediocre. Jim took way too many shortcuts. It felt rushed, ironically enough, because he was so busy moving pieces around to set up for Battle Ground that Peace Talks doesn’t really stand out as interesting or likable like the other books. I really understand why he got stuck and couldn’t write on it for six years. My two biggest beefs here are him pushing Ebenezar into the antagonist role and him completely fucking bailing on the Harry/Murphy relationship after sixteen books of waiting. I mean, yeah, fine, because everything in this book is just set up for Battle Ground, maybe then we’ll get more acknowledgment of the romance and the importance of the relationship, but as it stands, I’m dissatisfied with both aspects. This is part of why we didn’t want a hiatus. If you make us wait this long, inevitably, the result is not going to be up to par. There are VERY few things we as people have waited forever for that ended up living up to our expectations. I almost feel like all the fan theories and fanfiction was a better, more creative result than what actually happened in Peace Talks. That’s harsh, I know, but I’ve been reading the fan generated stuff for six years and that’s just how I feel. 

This is a mediocre novel that’s placing a LOT of weight on what’s to come, which is dangerous from a quality standpoint. It could be a lot worse. I was expecting a disaster. Instead, I got a disappointment. I can live with it, but only if Battle Ground makes up for it. If it doesn’t, then we’re all in a world of hurt.

I’ll take maybe a week or so and then consider if I want to do an actual review or not. We’ll see how I feel once I digest everything and talk it out with friends.

Overall Grade: 3 out of 5 stars

[rabbit-in-blue]

For the kisses, 35, Sherlolly college AU.

Hello, 

Sorry for letting you wait. It took me a little bit longer than expected and I know I say it would be a drabble  but, It kinda took life of his own... I hope it is readable, english is not my first languish, so I drafted in spanish first and then make the translation... hope you like it

First date

It was true, at 21 years old Sherlock Holmes haven't been in to many dates. His relationship with Violet Hunter all that years ago, remained on the platonic scale of the spectrum, until the day he returned to Paris. No one, nor friend o enemy could honestly say that he and Irene Adler had been dating… And even when he took out Janine Hawkins a couple of times, the ulterior motives behind those dates, plus the big amounts of narcotics consumed in the course of those “dates”, possibly disqualified them as real ones. No, Sherlock did not have too much dating experience, he was not a lady’s man, as his friend John Watson, nor a hopeless romantic like young Sergeant Lestrde. By his own admission, girlfriends was not his area, and yet tonight, lit by the moonlight and campus lanterns, Sherlock was certain he had the best date in human history. During the course of the evening, he was brilliant, witty, and totally dazzled the girl with his deductive abilities and superior intellect. While she on her side was warm, receptive, sweet and beautiful, even exhibiting glimpses of genius herself, demonstrating accurate synthesis and analysis capabilities, something that, from this day onwards, would be considered by Sherlock as the most sensual attribute that a woman could ever display.

They were still giglin when they walked through into the dorm rooms bilding.

«How did you knew Crown's real plan was to swap the paintings?» ask Molly giggling as they stopped in front of her bedroom door.

«Would you believe me if I told you it was the cuff of his shirt?» Sherlock replied smug and satisfied.

«The cuff? of his shirt?» she repeats, seems confused, her expression  turning in a gesture of true mortification, it is then that the the revelation hit her and Sherlock watched proudly as his face lit up again, and the sweet cute smile returned once more to her lips, her sweet cute small lips «Of course!» she shouts eagerly «The shirt’s cuff… of course… » She repeats once more looking like she just completed a complex math problem. A feeling of deep satisfaction internally bathes Sherlock from head to toe, their children are going to simply be exceptional, they will win at least one Nobel Prize each ... «You're right, you know?» Molly explains interrupting his train of thought  «It can be really obvious if one just observe. But that's the easy part for you, the rest of us have to run the extra mile...»

This is it, Sherlock thought, time to make his move. He had to go for it and kiss her, it was now or never.

Subtly and discreetly Sherlock bridges the gap between the two of them.

«Glad to hear you had a good time, Molly Hooper,»  says Sherlock, as he begins to calculate the best posture and angle to reach the perfect kiss. Molly is a little short, so he must proceed with extreme precision so that they are both in a comfortable position.

«I did» she replies smiling, without ever lose eye contact with him, «Even when it was nothing I expected ...»

«What did you expect?» Asks the man innocently as he nimbly prepares to slide his hands behind her arms.

«I don't know,» she replies, giggling. «I thought... I don't know… It’s kinda silly… I thought maybe... that maybe we would go on a date...»

Sherlock’s world freezes in that instant, the instinct to fly or fight hits his guts. He definitely wanted to run away, but his body has decided not to move anywhere. He barely  manages to not touch her. His mind runs at billions of miles per second and returns blank. He's just there, panicking. Didn’t she supposed to be smart? «What do you mean?» He finally says when manages to articulate a concrete thought.

«Well… » begins Molly, a little worried know «When you asked me to meet you at the museum... I... I... I thought… » A wave of mortification washes her face quickly «Well... I thought you were asking to go out… » Now she bites her lips, clearly ashamed of her confession, to the point of not being able to keep her gaze on him... Great, now she thinks she has done something wrong... And this is why girls and dates are definitely not his area… He almost can hear John laugh, when they talk about this on monday...

«What makes you think it wasn't a date?»  He surprises himself by asking ...

And suddenly she can look him again in the eyes «Oh, well… ohm… was it?» she ask unsure

«Of course it was!» The man replies sounding more exasperated than he intended to show. «It took me weeks to find the perfect case to ask you out! Why in bloody hell would you think it wasn't a date?»

«I ... I ...» Now she's nervous, great «N ... no ... I don't know ... it felt like a date at first…  you ... you know, before the police, the persecution and all that ..."

«Is was the drag thing?»

«I... maybe... a little?... I… I mean... you look great, seriously, and I think you work those hills better than any pair of shoes I ever had. I can't even believe you walk all the way from the museum till here, in those… or the you run behind Crown through three floors of the building wearing them and you didn’t even miss a step...  maybe it had more to do with the part where you flirted with Mr. Crown»

«I was not.»

«Yes, you where.»

Sherlock hesitates for a second, «Maybe a little,» he finally resolves.

«Well, that's a big no no, you know? flirting with someone else while you are on a date... »

Sherlock can’t help to notice that it has been Molly who has closed the distance between them this time, he hesitates to touch her and chooses to restart calculations on the ideal inclination angle for a kissing this girl. Then, her arms are tangle around his neck and pull him down so their lips collide in an awkward, kinda slappy, and absolutely brilliant, glorious kiss.

This is it, Sherlock thinks, best date in human history...

[syntaxeme]

Giardino Segreto ch. 7

[Read on AO3] | [First chapter] | [Next chapter] Rating: T Chapter summary: An unexpected visitor throws Alastor's morning off-track, and he's forced to discuss some personal matters with a professional colleague. Well, it was bound to come out eventually.

— — –

In the morning, Alastor fought with himself over whether he should leave before Angel woke but decided that doing so would probably upset him. Besides, this was the closest he’d felt to 100% healthy in some time, so he supposed he might as well enjoy it as long as possible before they had to separate again and the tension returned to his chest. He remained exactly where he was until Angel eventually stirred, realized he was there, and promptly pinned him to the bed with another firm kiss.

“Morning,” he said cheerfully, not allowing a moment for Alastor to answer before kissing him again, crawling closer to kneel over him on all fours, rather more predatory than expected and certainly more energetic. When the phone rang across the room, he broke away for a moment to look in that direction.

“Ahem. Should you…get that?” Alastor managed through the haze of pleasure clouding his mind. Angel’s aggressive kisses had sort of blindsided him, and he was now having trouble regaining his footing. His hands absently came to rest on Angel’s thighs on either side of him, and the boy looked down at him with a playful smile.

“It can wait.” Another kiss, and his hips rested against Alastor’s, sending a jolt through the demon’s body. He was forcibly reminded of how little Angel was wearing—a pajama top that fell just past his hips and not much else—and started to get lightheaded from all this sudden provocation. Some part of him felt he should argue, should point out that this was all happening very quickly and maybe Angel should take a moment to fully wake up before jumping into…well, whatever it was he was after. But between the boy’s sweet voice moaning from his kisses and his sleep-warmed body so close, the words simply wouldn’t come out. His hands slid upward subconsciously to grasp Angel’s hips, and when they deliberately ground down against his own, he bit the boy’s lip by accident.

“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, but Angel was smiling.

“Whatsamatter, Al?” he purred, licking a smear of blood off his injured lip, running his fingertips very lightly down Alastor’s neck and collarbone to make him shiver. “Too much for ya? Who woulda thought the big bad Radio Demon would get all nervous just from a little teasing?”

Oh, he is dangerous. Alastor was very familiar with torture, but never this particular brand. He had almost no sexual experience at all, in fact, and certainly none that was recent. It had never ranked highly on his list of priorities or preferred pastimes. That said, Angel was, as usual, an exception. More than anything, Alastor wanted to please him, and whatever that entailed, he was up for it. Eager for it, he might even say.

“I’m not drunk anymore,” the boy noted, leaning down to speak between kisses on Alastor’s neck and slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “A little hungover, but I bet you can take my mind off it. The way you were kissin’ me last night, you sure seemed interested. So what’s stoppin’ ya?” He made a very compelling point.

“Chéri, I—” Alastor tensed and gripped harder at Angel’s hips as they ground roughly into his again. Possibly even more electrifying than the feeling itself was the low moan Angel let out, the knowledge that he must be enjoying this too. Before Alastor could gather his wits and try to speak again, the moment was disrupted by a knock at the suite’s front door.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Angel groaned miserably, forcing himself out of Alastor’s lap and off the bed. The Radio Demon remained where he was, very still and sort of dazed, as the boss grabbed a robe from the closet and headed for the door. “Venture, I swear to—”

“Angelino!” a familiar voice squealed when he opened the door, and Alastor’s mind vaguely registered who his visitor must be.

“I tried to tell her you would be down soon,” Venture said, calm as ever, “but she insisted on seeing you right away.”

“Molls, holy shit!” Angel’s voice pitched upward with delight, and Alastor was forced to accept that whatever had been going on between them before Molly’s arrival, it wasn’t likely to continue now. Part of him was grateful for the interruption. Another part was absolutely murderous. Regardless, he dragged both parts out of bed and went out to join the others in the living room.

It wasn’t until Venture’s eyes fell on him and a wicked smirk curled her red lips that he finally realized how this must look—him, coming out of Angel’s bedroom after having escorted him back the night before, hair mussed, shirt half-buttoned, possibly still a bit flushed from Angel’s surprise attack. At any other time, he would have righted his entire appearance with a wave of his hand, but Molly was there, and she had clearly already seen him. So instead, he hastened to make himself presentable the old-fashioned way, buttoning his shirt, straightening his cuffs, fumbling very slightly from nerves.

“Alastor,” Venture purred with no small amount of relish. “Fancy seeing you here. I suppose that explains why the boss was late getting downstairs.”

Before Alastor could argue that this was not what it looked like, Angel rolled his eyes and answered, “Venn, shut the hell up. You can head back downstairs and I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Good. This show isn’t going to run itself, you know.” She shot Alastor a look that said they would be talking about this later, then left for the elevators.

“Um,” Molly said, not taking her eyes off Alastor as she came in and Angel shut the door behind her.

“Oh, Molls, this is Alastor,” Angel said, putting an arm around her shoulders. With an impish smile, he added innocently, “He, uh, works under me around here. Al, my sister, Molly.”

“Charmed,” Alastor said, ignoring the look Angel was giving him and instead offering his hand to Molly. She was too polite not to accept it, though she did seem awfully wary of Alastor. “I’ve heard a lot, so it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You too,” she said with a weak smile before turning to Angel again and lowering her voice as if that might keep Alastor from hearing her. “Could we talk? Just us?”

“Sure. Al, you wanna go make sure Venn’s not stagin’ some kinda coup downstairs?” As the twins went to sit together on the couch, Alastor disappeared into Angel’s room to dress himself, trying and failing to shrug off the embarrassment of having been caught in such a compromising position with the boss. After excusing himself from the suite, he headed for the elevators—but Angel chased after him.

“Hang on,” he called, scampering across the carpeted hall to practically throw himself into Alastor’s arms and kiss him again. When he drew away, he held a finger up to Alastor’s nose and told him with mock severity, “We’re finishin’ that conversation tonight, damn it.”

“I look forward to it, cher.” He watched Angel walk back to his room, then finally forced himself down to the third floor to face the music with Venture. He wasn’t looking forward to the conversation by any means, but at least it would give him an opportunity to process his feelings on the matter himself.

When he reached Angel’s office, Venture was in discussion with one of the family’s soldiers—but upon seeing Alastor arrive, she grinned and dismissed the underling without another word. “Well, well, well,” she teased, watching the Radio Demon closely. “Now I know why we had that chat about ‘distance’ yesterday, as you’re obviously getting very close with our young don.”

“I’m contracted to someday claim his soul; it’s only sensible that I keep him close,” Alastor answered evenly. “Besides, you’re one to talk. Don’t you often become ‘close’ with your charges?”

“Oh no, dear, we aren’t talking about my patterns at the moment. We’re talking about yours, and how this particular contract clearly falls far outside them.” She remained where she stood, just behind Angel’s desk, and watched him pace about the room. “Did you sleep with him?”

“No.” Neither literally nor euphemistically. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Then what were you doing in his room?” she asked dubiously.

“Nothing.” Thanks to you. “He asked me to stay with him last night, so I did.”

“But even that’s notable. You wouldn’t bother if you didn’t have some investment in his feelings. I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to recognize it. You~ care about him. Don’t you?” Venture raised her head, seeming pleased with what she’d discovered. Alastor’s silence was answer enough. “Then he must be more special than I realized. And did that happen before or after the contract?”

“How is that relevant?”

“So before. You approached him because of your interest in him. How very interesting.” Just as Alastor knew how commonly she developed feelings for her human charges, she knew how rarely he developed attachments to anyone. “I should’ve known as soon as you brought me here. You’ve put more effort into this operation than any other project I’ve seen you take on.”

“Yes, yes, I know, this all ranges far beyond my typical modus operandi,” he agreed, his tone lighthearted despite fearing what consequences this revelation might have. “Believe me, I’ve been aware of it since day one, but I’m doing my best to adjust to the role I’ve been cast. Besides, you’ve been enjoying yourself, haven’t you? Angel keeps you on your toes, and I can only imagine how refreshing a change it must be to work with a reliable group rather than trying to corral your associates from all over Hell.”

She listened to his little spiel with an almost sympathetic smile. “Are you afraid I’m going to leave now that I know this is personal for you?”

Alastor was loath to admit being afraid of anything, and he especially disliked the idea that he or the Giardinos might need Venture there by any means. Even if she did leave, he was sure he could still pull this off on his own—but her presence made it significantly easier, and he knew well that the way to any Overlord’s heart was through their ego.

With an exaggerated sigh, he confessed, “I’m afraid you know much more than I do about the sort of business Angel wants to do. If we were to lose you, we would have to find someone else to take your place, and it would surely be a downgrade.”

“I’m not quite sure if you’re complimenting me or threatening to replace me,” she laughed and waved the matter aside with an airy gesture. “But that’s all academic, because I don’t have any plans to leave. Why should I? I consider it a privilege, not only getting a front-row seat to whatever’s going to play out between you two, but participating in the performance myself. I only wish you would’ve told me about this sooner. I’d be making more of an effort on his behalf.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow at her. “Are you suggesting you’ve been holding back in your duties?”

“I’m suggesting I’ve been doing what Angel’s asked of me, and it hasn’t yet required my full repertoire of skills. If I’d known how invested you were in seeing him succeed, I might have been trying harder.” With an offhanded salute in his direction, she retreated to her desk and sat, head down, attention focused on whatever business transactions they had in the works at the time.

Well, the conversation could have gone worse. Alastor still wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t try to use this against him at some point, but at least she hadn’t ferreted out the whole truth. Now that she was no longer grilling him, he was left to wonder what Angel and Molly were talking about upstairs. Yes, he could check if he so chose, but he wanted to respect Angel’s privacy; if the boss wanted to share it with him later, that would be his choice.

He wasn’t sure why he was so worried in the first place. Molly was the absolute least dangerous member of the Dellarosa family, so her presence really shouldn’t concern him. Yet he remained uneasy, too hung up on how convenient it was that she’d appeared the very morning after their dispute with Enrico.

[takeiteasypeasybaby]

Save Me: Chapter 58 - Thank You

~Hey guys! Chapter 58 is out now :) Enjoy and as always i’m so incredibly grateful for all your support <3~

Molly reunites with Negan and thanks him for his newfound selflessness. She starts to uncover revelations about Negan's attitude to her community and they discuss their place in it, together.

I opened my eyes slowly to see that my supposition was right.

There Negan was, eyes closed as he held my hand up to his face.

'Hi' I said softly as his eyes opened immediately and he grinned, the widest grin I had seen in a long time.

'You know I don't believe that the big man's up there but thank god' he said chuckling as I started to sit up.

I wrapped my arms around him as he leant in closer and kissed him on the cheek.

'I missed you and you're okay' I said gladly.

He was sat awkwardly on the chair next to my bed which made me confused until I looked down to see his thigh wrapped in a large bandage.

'What the hell happened?!' I asked worriedly.

'Ah just a fuckin' branch that cut my leg open but your boy gabey stitched me up real good so I'm fine' he said faux nonchalantly.

I nodded in relief and decided I couldn't stay in bed anymore since I felt fine.

I pulled out the IV and the other needles, wincing as I did so.

'Molly, you have to rest' Negan said seriously as I swung my legs over the side of the bed and started to stand.

I took a deep breath and pulled on my boots, taking one swig of water that was left on the nightstand.

'Molly' Negan repeated, frustrated at not being able to stop me as he couldn't walk.

I walked over to the window and looked out to the front gates to see Daryl, Judith, RJ, Michonne and Lydia having a snowball fight.

I chuckled to myself to see them so happy.

'How did a branch even hit your leg? You were in the church right?' I asked suspiciously.

He nodded.

'Mhm. Until the heating broke and we had to move to Aaron's. Judith went after the damn dog so I went after her' he said, like it was nothing.

I turned away from the window to look at him in awe.

'You saved her?' I asked in disbelief.

'It was nothin' he replied softly.

I moved around to him and helped him into his bed as I propped up his leg.

'Thank you, for saving her...you always did have a flair for the dramatic' I said smirking.

He chuckled and said reminiscing, 'you know, the last time I was here, Rick had just slit my throat open. So this, hell this ain't nothin'.

I nodded as he continued.

'She's a special girl, a damn spitfire and you, you've been through enough. No need to worry about me' he said smiling.

I knew he was talking about Tara and just looked down silently.

'I know now that she's with me, everywhere I go, everywhere I am. I thought losing her would weaken me, but I feel stronger than ever, like I have the strength to fight again and I will' I said with determination.

'Promise me that you won't rush into anything, promise you'll wait until you're better?' he pleaded as I sat on the edge of his bed.

'You know what I have to do, I have to end this now' I said seriously.

'I know, but don't risk your life for her's' he pleaded again.

'Why? Is it precious to you?' I asked teasingly.

He took my hand and kissed it.

'You know that it is...I can't lose you Molly' he said sadly.

'You won't' I said softly as I kissed his lips lightly and headed out of the room.

'Did everyone else make it out of the storm. I heard the Kingdom fell. Was everyone okay?' he asked genuinely.

I stopped in confusion and turned back around slowly.

'Do you care?' I asked questioningly.

'Gah, I don't know any of those people from Adam. But, I do know what it's like to lose your kingdom, it sucks ass' he said sadly.

I peered back out the window to see everyone outside.

'Looks like everyone's accounted for, Daryl would've got everyone through, I just know it' I replied hopefully.

I looked out to the compound and pondered over Negan's once beloved kingdom.

'The Sanctuary will be a shithole now' I said slightly upset, knowing how alive and functional it once was.

'Hell, I could've told you that, all you had to was ask' Negan said bemusedly.

'Michonne came up earlier, told me what happened. So you cut through their territory? Ballsy' he said impressed by my leadership.

I smirked and sat down on the chair.

'We don't even know if they were there, but the point is, we came together and we made it' I said softly.

'Common enemy, common goal' he replied before I offered an alternate theory.

'Or, facing evil brings good people together' I said softly.

'Same thing, it's just that no one ever thinks that they're the evil one' he said seriously, alluding to all the things he did to us when he was the leader of the Saviours.

I knew at this point he was just stalling to keep me from going back out there and starting some shit, but it was refreshing to see his genuine care and interest in the wellbeing of the people I loved.

'I always wanted you to be a part of this, you know. Now it feels like you really are' I said smiling.

'I want you to help me win, I want you to help me kill her' I continued seriously.

'I want nothing more Molly, but we both know that I can't leave Alexandria despite my best efforts' he said smirking.

I sighed.

'For so long we were on opposing sides, I just want us to be together. Not kissing in a cell or in a hospital ward, but out there!' I said pointing to the window.

'I just want us to be us. Fuck what anyone else thinks because I-I can't lose anyone else and I don't wanna regret wasting the time that we have together because you never know when it will be the end for us' I said passionately which made him smile.

I showed him the other locket around my neck.

'After Tara died, Michonne gave me her locket and it just made me realise that after all the shit we've been through, we deserve to be happy now' I continued.

He nodded and said gently, 'I agree'.

I looked at him sceptically.

'You agree with me? You usually have more to say' I chuckled.

'There is nothing more to say. I want us, this is our time' he replied as he opened his arms.

I moved closer, sat back down on the bed and wrapped my arms around his neck.

'You still feel a little cold Mol' he said softly as I pulled away and said 'I'm fine, promise'.

'I need to go check on Lydia, see if she's okay' I said as I tucked the covers over him.

'You love her don't you?' he asked.

'I do, she's like my little sister or daughter. I need to protect her from the whisperers' I replied seriously.

He nodded and smiled, saying 'then I will too'.

I smiled at his compassion and stood up and started to walk out of the room to go find Lydia.

'You should be resting not me!' he shouted after me.

'I'm stronger, I don't need it' I replied mockingly which made him chuckle.

Daryl's POV//

After the snowball fight, I walked over to see Michonne as she was hugging Judith and RJ.

As I walked over, I overheard people talking about how brave and heroic Negan had been in saving Judith from the storm.

I scowled and frowned in confusion, that bastard already had too much freedom and now assholes were thinking he was one of us.

'Michonne' I said sternly as she turned around.

'You got that asshole out working in the field right? What the hell?' I said angrily.

'We needed extra workers, he was able so yes we used him, but he remains in his cell at night, it's only because of the weather that he's out alright?' she replied softly.

I grunted and walked away, knowing that we had more important things to do.

I found Connie in Aaron's house and wrote in my notepad that we needed to go after the whisperers as soon as the storm cleared.

I wanted to go back to their camp to see if they had any other outposts we didn't know about.

She agreed with me and asked if it would just be us.

I wanted to ask Molly, but I knew she would be blinded by the loss of Tara and she would go straight after Alpha, just like Carol would, so I couldn't.

She would hate me for taking her out myself but I couldn't risk her getting hurt in this.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

Meet Me in the Pouring Rain // a Post-TFP story

when @colonialfire24 prompted me with just a select few keywords, the story practically wrote itself, though not without a little brainstorming on my part :p

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               It’s not pretty when a heart breaks. The movies had it all wrong, romanticizing such pain. Sherlock should know, as he’s watched them all in a fit of desperation with hopes that there was something he seemed to be missing that could easily be found. There was nothing. Real life was hardly ever the cliché meet-cute, fall in love, fight briefly, and have a happily ever after. In fact, it never works out that way, and Sherlock, of all people, should know this by now.

               It isn’t romantic when your psychotic sister forces your deepest confession out from the hidden alcoves of your heart. It isn’t the least bit satisfying to make the woman you love cry whilst she’s repeating those three words. Words that were once supposed to fill them with hope and happiness were now damned and forbidden. Weeks had passed, but Sherlock hadn’t a clue how long it actually had been, as he lost count after the first month. She no longer wanted him. And why should she? He was unlovable, just as he always thought himself to be.

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               Molly was beside herself, staring at the mess reflected back at her in the empty loo at the back of the pub. Her bun had fallen apart, tendrils of hair falling wherever they wanted. Lipstick the shade of dark red wine was smeared across her mouth. She was dabbing at the mascara that was running down her face from the tears she hadn’t allowed to spill until now. With a string of convulsive sobs, Molly wondered how in the hell she got here. It felt as if her whole life had been falling apart, each string unraveling. First, it was Sherlock possibly going off to his death in six months, then Mary dying at the hand of a bitter woman, Sherlock high off his tits on drugs for weeks, and then that bloody phone call where her last nerve was shot.

               Just before breaking down in a shoddy bathroom, Molly had a drink or two, eventually accepting a dance with a guy who bought her another round afterward. As a lightweight, she had been quite tipsy after her third, and somehow ended up stumbling toward a backroom with him. She hadn’t even asked his name, let alone introduced herself, and there they were snogging in a storage closet. When he had started to feel her up, she mumbled her protests, but he must have taken it as sounds of pleasure. The moment his hand found its way up under her blouse, the skin to skin contact made her push him away hard enough for him to tumble to the floor. This wasn’t what she wanted, though that’s what she thought she should want. It was love she craved. Sherlock is who she wanted.

               She cried for herself, and for Sherlock. Knowing the full story, she knew it wasn’t his fault, but the walls that quickly built themselves around her heart wouldn’t allow her to go forward with him. She wanted to be with him right now, but she resisted due to the aches in her chest that just wouldn’t let up. The movies may be wrong, but the songs were right; it’s not pretty when a heart breaks.

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               The air was crisp, and wind chilled him to the bone, but Sherlock didn’t let it keep him from roaming the streets of London. It was almost mid-October, and his mind brought up the fact that this meant Molly’s birthday was right around the corner. He could smell the scent of oncoming rain, waiting to shower the people in the streets below. Though he hadn’t spoken to Molly in a couple of months, he knew she would be getting off work soon. He wondered how she would react if she were to see him after so long. He felt so lost within the streets he knew better than the back of his hand.

               Continuing to wander, Sherlock happened upon a thrift shop that dredged up a once-happy memory. They were closing soon, and he couldn’t help but notice the striking lemon yellow chair in the window. He hadn’t a clue what possessed him to purchase it, but at least the kind woman who ran the shop agreed he could pick it up in the morning. And so, as he strolled down the street, it had begun to drizzle. Not that he minded, of course, though he could hear her voice in his head telling him he’d catch his death if he didn’t come inside from the several times he had shown up at her flat in the rain.

               Despite doing everything he could to not think about her, she was everywhere he looked. There wasn’t a damn thing in this world that didn’t remind him of Molly. Any time he’d start to button his aubergine shirt, he’d remember that it was her favourite color, and would quickly shrug it off his shoulders. Every film he’d watch, and every book he’d read would throw all kinds of reminders in his face. And now, as the rain started to pound the pavement, he found himself outside of Bart’s hospital in front of a bright red telephone booth, where Molly was dialing his number. His mobile began to ring.

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               Thank goodness for the night shift, Molly thought, her memories from the night before making her shudder. She had been able to sleep off the splitting headache that had briefly woken her up early this morning. After clocking out, and saying goodnight to Stamford, she felt she couldn’t get out of the building quickly enough. It was drizzling outside, but it wouldn’t be too bad for the walk to her flat, as it was only a fifteen minute walk from work. Taking out her phone to check the weather report, she realised it had died the moment the rain began pouring down.

               Sighing in frustration, Molly sprinted her way over to the telephone booth. Once inside, she wasn’t sure who she was going to call. A cab would probably be the best route, but something inside her screamed it had to be someone else. Before giving it another thought, her fingers reached out toward the numbers that would inevitably connect her with the only person she wanted to see. Her hand shook as she held the phone to her ear, listening to it ring. What the hell was she doing? This was crazy! She should just hang up, and pretend—

               “Hello?” Sherlock’s comforting baritone answered, filling Molly with warmth from head to toe.

               Unsure of what to say, Molly was silent for a moment. With a sigh, she spoke, her voice trembling as tears threatened to spill over again. “Hi, uh, Sherlock?”

               “Yes?” he spoke breathlessly.

               “I need to see you,” she cried.

               “Just look outside the window,” he told her, walking closer towards the booth.

               Without a second thought, Molly hung up the phone, and exited through the door into the rain. There he stood, as if no time had passed at all, looming over her as he always had.

               He then chose to ask her the words she had once asked him. “What do you need?”

               Molly was silent.

               “Tell me, Molly.”

               “I can’t,” she finally told him. “This was a mistake. I need to get home.”

               Sherlock couldn’t contain the anger that coursed through him. “Damn it, Molly! You’re shutting me out again, just like you did when I came to you months ago!”

               “Well, maybe if you’d wrap your small brain around my feelings for once, you’d understand why!” Frustrated, she brushed her hair back from her face with her hand.

               “Do you not think I had your feelings in mind when I reached out to you!? It wasn’t just for my benefit, you know. I’m sure you’d have a real reason to hate me had I not even bothered!” His throat felt raw from shouting, and he was sure hers must be in the same state as well.

               “Maybe you shouldn’t have! Why waste your time on me anyways!? It’s not like you actually love me, Sherlock! I’ve felt so alone these past few months, you have no idea!”

               “Oh, really!? You don’t think I’ve been alone just as much as you!? The reason I reached out is because we should have been healing together, Molly! Don’t you see that???”

               That’s when it hit her. Sherlock really had been just as alone as her. John was never going to be fully over blaming Sherlock for Mary’s death, and it’s not like Mycroft had experience in this particular area. They should have been healing together, but she shut him out just when he finally wanted to open himself up to her.

               “I’m not saying you didn’t deserve time for yourself, Molly,” Sherlock spoke softly, “but I wish we could’ve healed together. I wanted to be there for you, as I know that phone call must have shattered you even more than it shattered me.”

               Despite the rain pelting her face so hard, it stung her, she reached out to him, closing the gap between them. With her arms around his neck, her fingers sunk into his wet curls, she pulled him down for a searing kiss that warmed them up from the inside out. Sherlock couldn’t resist lifting her up the moment her tongue slid against his in perfect tandem. “Molly,” he moaned between kisses. Unfortunately, he tore his mouth away from hers after hearing the loud honk of a town car that had pulled up beside them.

               “I assume you two may need a ride?” Mycroft asked from inside the back of the car. Sherlock carefully set Molly down, opening the door for her. As they slid inside, the elder Holmes spoke up again. “Just in time too, as I was afraid you’d both be stuck that way for quite some time. Where shall we drop you off?”

               “Baker Street,” Molly blurted, without thinking. It must have shocked Sherlock as well, since the look on his face was full of confusion. “And step on it, would you?”

.

.

               Curled up in his bed, in her spare set of pyjamas, Molly reveled in the feel of his arm securely around her waist. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck, his lips close enough to her skin that if he moved in the slightest way, it would feel as if he were kissing her. She thought of the hours they had just spent having deep conversations with the welcome interludes of snogging and gentle touches. They cried, they laughed, and loved with a love fiercer than any other.

               She sighed happily, snuggling herself closer to him. It was funny how just a few hours could change your life just like that after a rather rubbish two months. Every day since the phone call, Molly had consistently told herself that the next day would be better. For the first time since then, she could confidently say that tomorrow would truly be better. The future now held more possibilities than she once imagined. She was ready for whatever would be thrown her way, because she had someone to help her fight through her storms, just as she’d help him fight through his.

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here’s my playlist for the fic:

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AO3 | FFN | Buy Me a Coffee?

[ivyquinnauthor]

12, 17 and 25 for the ff writer asks please :)

Responding to the fanfic writer questions, if anyone else wants to ask some, feel free!

***12 - Who is your favorite character to write for?***

I guess since I’ve written pretty consistently in three fandoms so far, I’d list the ones that I liked the best for each or used to like. I mean, I was first in Buffy fandom so Spike. In Smallville---which I can’t write for anymore at all cause whoo boy all the scandals there turn my stomach----I liked Chloe Sullivan but again the real life terrible, literal cult stuff means I can’t do anything in that fandom anymore, and I haven’t written for that character in over 4 years. Such things happen. In Lucifer, I prefer Lucifer the most cause lots of just angst to mine but also sarcasm, lol.

************

***17) Post a line from a WIP you’re working on:***

Honestly, I have a few I spin plates for, keep up in the air, between two multi-chapter fics and a sort of interconnected series of one-shots. So, lines from the following:

A) From “Recurrence” - 

As musicals go, he appreciated ones with a more intense difficulty level and, in that regard, The Music Man left much to be desired. Doing the quid pro quo to show the lads trying out for Harold Hill how it’s supposed to be done was far from a challenge---he much preferred being out with Ella in Vegas with some Lady Luck---but he muddled through the inferior song anyway. After all, trouble with a capital T is something he knew everything about.

B) From “This Ebony Bird Beguiling” - 

He wasn’t sure how he got from playing helpful house guest, preparing sugary-laden treats for the urchin and the detective (when Chloe woke up, talk about a rough night) in a sunny beach house to giving Trixie Espinosa preening advice. Oh, don’t get him wrong. His interminable life had been nothing but bizarre, depending on whose perspective one took, but it usually didn’t vacillate between almost mind-numbingly boring and human one moment to worrying about someone else’s loose pin feathers the very next.

C) From “Queer Eye for the Chef Guy” (next Culinary Advice one-shot) - 

“I agreed to this, sort of, because you clearly need a distraction while Linda works through the whole you’re-the-devil-thing.”

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at Gary. “You have a fine talent for making the infernal and, frankly, formerly---very formerly---divine sound mundane, Preston. It’s more than a just a ‘thing.’”

Oh Christ...wait shouldn’t even think it. He'd gotten the devil extra prickly already. “Fine then. You want a project, and I want to keep Ms. Smith happy and, by extension, both my arms intact, but does it have to involve my clothes?”

“These!” Lucifer said, holding up a pair of cargo pants littering the floor. “Cannot be labeled clothes. In fact, do you have lighter fluid? Never mind I can immolate anything...”

“You can what?” And he didn’t yip, not really. Okay, maybe a little.

“Well, what all do you think I can do?”

Gary pinched the bridge of his nose. If he’d known that, he’d have just dragged his rucksack to Lux. Let Lucifer accidentally set his own bloody flat on fire.

***

And just cause sometimes I keep notes on things to do one day if little scraps of things come to mind, a couple snippets from stuff that’s just ideas and files for now:

A) From “Hair of the Dog” - 

He should send Miss Lopez home. Lucifer knew that the moment he spotted her arguing with Patrick in a very colorful and completely un-Ella-like mix of Spanish and English curses grumbling about being cut off. A good person would call her an Uber or even a private car---he could more than afford it---and send her home with a spare bottle of aspirin from under the bar to boot. Lux kept plenty of other first aid remedies around. After the hangover she was sure to have in the morning, Miss Lopez would even thank him for such chivalry. 

Except Lucifer was not a good person. 

Just a week ago, after the worst moment of his long suffering life, the detective had more than established that to her, he was not a person at all. And it was perversely impressive that in literally billions of years of existence, including permanent exile from his entire (mostly rubbish) family and burning for millennia in a lake of fire, that the detective yelling about being terrified of him would be the worst, but it was. So, no, Lucifer was not a good person or even pretending to be one right now. And he was well and truly soused for once after a steady effort at not only drinking every handle in his personal bar and half of Lux’s but also from downing more than his fair share---celestial metabolism or not---of some molly from the last party he hosted in the penthouse.

He was probably for a precious hour longer even less clear-headed than Miss Lopez. So when he pulled her away from the bar and smoothed things over with Patrick, he couldn’t quite make himself send her away, especially after she curled into his side. He definitely couldn’t refuse her suggestion to go up to the penthouse either...

B) From “What to Expect When You’re an Expecting Devil” - 

“No.”

He arched an eyebrow back at his therapist, who, to be fair, was also his former lover (and before things got utterly complicated and pear-shaped, he’d still have kept up that arrangement with her; she was that good as he found the uptight ones tended to be when they got a chance to let loose), currently the mother-to-be of his first ever nephew, and the only other person in history that he or Amenadiel knew about who was also dealing with a celestial pregnancy. Which sodding perfect. However, just because they were all kinds of enmeshed and, eventually, would be family and boy had his brother cocked that all up (literally), it didn’t mean he had to always listen to her.

If his track record was anything to go by, he rarely did.

Still, Linda kept her hand held out till he relinquished the handle and then coughed at him till he yielded the tumbler too. There were demons he’d beheaded in Hell for far less insolence. Sad state of affairs he’d reached where a wisp of a thing who couldn’t even hope to come up to his chest got him to acquiesce with merely her glare.

“First of all, if this is even...whatever Remiel thinks she senses and it’s assuredly not that because Dad likes his jokes but that’s...” He stuttered a bit there. “I am not that. Even if I were, I don’t think drinking would hurt the little larva and, maybe if it did, bully for everyone. Surely, by now you’re at least passingly familiar with Revelation?”

Linda’s glare hardened, and she gestured to the bar. “Don’t even. I’m not drinking with an angel-baby cause who even knows and you’re not going to...”

“With the antichrist?”He bit back, tone cutting, but the fight leaking from him. “If Remiel is right---and let’s all just hope she’s not because her spider sense is busted---I’m going to need to a drink or all of them worse than ever now.”

“No, Lucifer. Not self destruction for one or, well, both of you that way.”

He pursed his lips but grabbed a bottle of water from behind the penthouse’s bar instead. “Fine then. I suppose that’s the price of you being the only doctor I know who can help me out on the other end of things, you know, if Remy’s not just cracked.”

Linda blanched. “Nope not doing. First, there’s such a thing as too much family togetherness but also I’m not even close to that kind of doctor and it’s been three decades since medical school. Add in that...” she paused then, fumbling for the politic way to phrase something, he was sure.

“Right, like I said, the antichrist. Maybe. I don’t rightly know, John was very stoned when he wrote all that down. Psychadelic nightmare fuel and all that. So, then, I just go it alone, again, assuming Remy’s right?” His hand strayed to his hip because, honestly, self preserving powers of denial aside, even he knew something was really different about him these last two months.

And it shouldn’t intimidate him to have Linda waddle over to him with her eyes narrowed and, if anyone but Amenadiel ever asked him, it didn’t. Not really.

She sighed and bit her lower lip. “Okay, so not an optimal idea, but I have a friend from my residency and his son’s really talented just tends to fuck up...I mean he has his license but if you pay enough....no questions asked so that was what I was thinking?”

“Question or a statement, love?”

“Little of both, but I’m sure no booze is good booze till seven months from now.”

Lucifer drained his water. “Well, and I thought I knew something about Hell. Clearly, I was wrong.”

*******

***25) Have you ever cried writing a story?***

Yes, I have. Back when I still wrote Smallville, I have a very dark trilogy of stories called the Lara-verse. When writing two parts of that series, Black as Sackcloth and Of Wolves and Lambs, I cried because the first involved some fairly gruesome and distressing lead character deaths and because the second dealt a lot with dissociation and PTSD. Honestly, I never finished the series with the four installment because it was such a weird, hard headspace to be in that I just didn’t have the strength to go back to it. It’s on my livejournal here if anyone reads Smallville - https://legendarytobes.livejournal.com/?skip=30&tag=lara%20verse - people would have to friend me there to read, but if anyone’s that curious, feel free to.

[afteriwake]

The Head Knows What The Heart Wants (17/18) - NEW CHAPTER

And this one is almost done! Just an epilogue to show what happens to the best-laid plans of Molly and Moran...

The Head Knows What The Heart Wants - After the revelation that there had been some plotting between Moriarty and Eurus before his death, Sebastian Moran had decided to do whatever it took to keep Molly safe���even if that meant ruining whatever the results of his ex-lover’s collusion with the Holmes sister were. But after enough time had gone by, things changed, and that was when Eurus decided to strike. That was when Sebastian couldn’t deny the truth any longer: Molly Hooper had become the most important person in his life…and he would do whatever it took to make sure she was safe.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 17 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI? | MY PATREON

He and Molly returned on the 30th of December after having stayed in New York for a time, mostly ensconced in his apartment, but someone (probably Mycroft) had made sure there was food in the flat to have a party. It was a rather somber New Year’s celebration, as no one felt entirely festive. They were safe; with Eurus in a comatose state, unless she began to show signs of waking up, they’d be safe for a while. And even if she did, depending on how long it took, there may not be anyone to help her enact revenge, if that was even what she wanted. Not many people survive damage to the head like the type that she had, so there was little known that might give any indication as to how she was going to be if she ever woke up. She could be in the mental state of a toddler, her eldest brother said, for all they knew.

Still, in some small way, he supposed he was glad Eurus hadn’t died. There was some peace for her parents, who could see her and, perhaps for the first time in ages, hold her hand in comfort. He hadn’t asked the Holmes brothers how they felt about the situation, but Holmes had told Molly he was glad she was the victor in the situation, to which Molly had nearly broken into tears. But it had been he who comforted her, not Holmes, something Eurus had misjudged greatly when she figured who was more important to Molly if she had even taken that into consideration at all. Maybe that was why she had aimed for his chest for the second shot.

She knew Molly’s heart belonged to someone other than her brother, regardless of whether his heart still belonged to Molly.

Eventually, before the stroke of midnight, everyone went back home to celebrate in their own quiet ways, leaving the two of them in bed, making sure that they vigorously celebrated being together when they almost couldn’t be. It was the first stroke of midnight when she came, his name coming out from her throat in a gasp, and as the New Year dawned he followed before he collapsed on top of her, pressing soft kisses over her breasts and shoulders.

“Happy New Year,” she said, letting her hand run along his sweat-slicked spine.

“Same,” he said, and she gave her first soft laugh since the events in the apartment. That was good, he realized as he moved his kisses to her pulse point, up her throat, to her jaw. Finally, he made it to her lips, kissing her languidly and then dropping his head next to her and nestling his nose in the crook of her neck.

“Marry me?” she asked. “I mean, let’s do it. Let’s just...go elope somewhere. Somewhere warm and bright and someplace with nude beaches and tropical drinks.”

“I’m supposed to ask you,” he said. “But if that’s what you want...”

“I just want to spend the rest of my life with you. I was so scared...I thought she’d kill you. I thought she’d kill you and that scared the bloody hell out of me. And now that she’s...” She trailed off.

“Now that she’s incapacitated and we’re both alive you feel safer and want things to be more permanent?” he ventured.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s do it properly,” he said. “Much as I’d love to shag you on a blanket under some palm trees, let’s do it the right way. Let’s live together with a long engagement, have a proper wedding at a church somewhere. I want to see you in the dress and lift the veil and be declared man and wife with the people we just kicked out all around.”

She laughed again, but this time it sounded almost like a sob, and so he rolled over to his side and gathered her in his arms, comforting her. She was crying, and he wondered if he had said the wrong thing, but then the crying tapered off and she pushed him onto his back and rested her head on his chest. “We’re just...nothing about our relationship has gone the way it should, but you’re right. We should do one thing properly. Though I already know that we should go back to New York for the honeymoon. To your apartment, not...there.”

“It’s on the market.”

“Your apartment?” she asked, pulling away and looking at him in horror. Then he realized his mistake in the timing of his words and shook his head. “Oh, the other place.”

“It will be harder to sell because there was a crime committed there, but I don’t care. I told the estate agent to sell it for the lowest price possible and I’d fill in their usual commission and to let the new owners do what they want with the furniture and to donate the sale proceeds to some educational charity in New York. I want nothing to do with that place.”

She nodded and then set her head back on his chest. “Then we’ll have to find a place with a skylight in our bedroom, won’t we?”

He began to rub her back until she had a contented type of hum coming from low in her throat. “I think that would be nice, yeah. Absolutely wonderful.” Soon she kissed him again, and when the kiss became more heated he felt himself stir as she moved on top of him. The future suddenly looked blazing bright and he wanted nothing more than to spend it with her...whatever that might entail.

[looselucy]

Roots

133 “That’s on the third floor.” I smiled pleasantly, the woman thanking me as she scuttled off towards the elevators. Work was as mundanely lovely as always. In my old job, dealing with customers usually brought on vile profanities, needless anger, and name calling. It had been a tedious job, to say the least. Working in a complaints department had been a guaranteed source for a headache. But with my new job, everyone was lovely. All the time. It was weird, really. I’d been there for three months, and only a handful of bad experiences to show for it. Granted, the interactions were usually quite short, but the manners of the people who frequented that building were astonishing. Until that day.

It was Monday the 20th of November, when my mother walked through the front doors. I spotted her immediately, well before she spotted me. I watched her waddle into my work, completely nonchalant and casual as she wandered up to my desk. My initial thoughts were that she had come to see me. Maybe Matty had told her where I worked, but from the puzzled look on her face when she finally looked down and saw her daughter, that clearly wasn’t the case. She looked like she’d seen a bloody ghost. “Florence?” She gasped. “Hi, mum.” I baffled. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” I had to laugh. The whole situation as just so bizarre, all I could do was laugh. “Uh… This is where I work.” “Oh! I didn’t realise.” “What… What are you doing here?” She seemed somewhat hesitant to answer. At first, I thought it was possible that she didn’t want to offend me with her answer, down to the fact she hadn’t shown up specifically to see me, but that was absolutely fine. If anything, it would have been weird if she had. We’d been doing much better, that much was clear, but it still would have been odd. She took a deep breath in before she spoke. “I’m here doing volunteer work.” She grumbled, so quietly I barely heard. “You’re what?” “I’m here doing volunteer work.” She was clear the second time. “WHAT?” “Keep your bloody voice down, Florence!” She demanded. I slapped my hand against my mouth, my mind completely blown by the fact my mother was doing any form or work, and the fact it was volunteer work only increased the shock I was feeling. I tried to ignore the fact that she’d wanted me to keep my voice down, and that she’d mumbled it so awkwardly, because I knew there was a sense of shame there that I was choosing to ignore. Because even if she wasn’t entirely thrilled about what she was doing, at least she was doing it. “Mum, that’s amazing!” I whelped, lowering my hands again. “What is it? Why… When? Why?” “Because after we spoke the other month… I… I realised that how co-dependent I felt was something that only I could change. So, I thought it best to get out into the world and get some experience. It’s just with a small charity. People were not willing to hire me for paid work as my CV is literally empty, so I thought I should volunteer.” I smirked, folding my arms and gazing across the desk to her, and I kind of loved how pissed off and frustrated she seemed by the whole thing. I decided to add to it. Just for fun. “Not that easy getting a job, is it, Beatrice?” “No,” She fumed. “It’s not.” I was smug. For a million different reasons. I was smug that she was volunteering and smug that she had struggled and smug that our chat, which I had originally thought was very self-focused, had resulted in my mother making a big change in her life, too. As annoyed as she seemed by the whole thing, she was doing it, off her own back and by choice. It was brilliant. It was incredible, how happy that knowledge had made me. “Mum, that’s seriously amazing! I’m so happy you’re doing that. You should be dead chuffed with yourself.” “Well, this is my first day, so I think I’m just nervous. I’m not even sure what I’ll be doing yet.” “Don’t be nervous. You’re gunna do great, I promise! How often will you be here?” “Only once a month. It’s a very… small thing, but… It’s just something I wanted to do.” “And it’s brilliant, and you should be proud. But don’t be nervous! They’re on the top floor, and they’re all lovely.” She hadn’t ever had a job, so I understood why she felt nervous, but that was exactly why she needed to do it. Better late than never, as they say. She gave herself a few minutes staying with me, maybe to catch up or maybe just in an attempt to compose herself, but I didn’t mind either way. “How are you?” She questioned. “How is… this job?” “It’s good. I’m good.” “Does it pay well?” “Does it matter?” She rolled her eyes a little, but nodded, and that was enough. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face. I stood myself up, tilting my head and watching her for a moment as I came to terms with what I was about to say to her, and how a year earlier, I never thought I would find myself feeling how I felt, or doing what I was about to do. “So you’re gunna be here once a month?” I asked. “Yes.” “Well, how about when you’re here, we’ll get lunch together.” I suggested. “We’ll take our breaks at the same time, and if we can’t… maybe when we’ve both finished for the day… We’ll grab some food and… talk and stuff.” I couldn’t figure out how she feeling. I guess maybe she was just shocked. Maybe she wanted to run for the hills and quit before she’d even started just to avoid having lunches with me. But it just made sense. It gave us the time to casually be around one another, and often enough to make progress, but not so often that we’d wind up killing each other. It was rare that my mother showed her emotions, really. She always made sure to keep herself composed as often as she could. But I could see it then. Just a flash of overwhelming emotions from her. Me asking that really meant something to her. “I think that would be nice.” She choked. “Okay. Good. That’s good. Um… Well, the next time you’re here, let me know, and… we’ll sort it.” She nodded, and the lump in her throat was so large, she couldn’t really speak. Even knowing that my mother could feel emotional and torn over our relationship, or lack thereof, was still extremely foreign to me. It was a strange moment, one that was exceptionally hard to grasp. We were learning, and it was slow and steady and somewhat painful, but we were learning, and it meant so much to me. I guess I just hadn’t realised, fully, that it would also mean a lot to her, too. “I have to go, or I’ll be late.” “Good luck!” I wished. “Thank you. I will… I will see you soon.” She shook it off, the two of us timidly waving at one another as she went back to her former, composed and almost arrogant self, storming off towards the elevators like she owned the damn building. And I continued with my day, half wondering if I’d hallucinated the entire conversation. 134 The gang all cheered loudly as soon as I walked into the bar, Zayn and Louis putting three bottles of champagne down on the table we’d booked for the evening. They even had bloody sparklers. “For fuck sake, guys.” I groaned, approaching the table with a smile on my face. “It’s a bloody Tuesday night!” “But we’re celebrating!” Mo cheered, getting to his feet and moving to give me a warm hug. Mo had recently decided that he wanted to start celebrating every accomplishment life had to offer, from the big to the small. He felt celebrations were too rare, and that maybe his humdrum life wasn’t all that bad after all, as long as he didn’t have to feel like he was just waiting for something big to happen. He'd had this weird moment, a revelation, where he realised that this was his life and there wasn’t going to be some miraculous change that made everything better and he could start living fully. This was it. So when I’d told him I’d finally been accepted by a landlord, and would soon start renting my own place once again, he felt it was the perfect time to celebrate. So we’d all gotten dressed up, and booked to have drinks at Vocatus, where we knew the boys would treat us like royalty all night. “Congrats on the flat, babe.” Louis moved in after Mo, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you.” I blushed. “And thanks for having us tonight.” “My pleasure. Anything you need, let us know, alright? And if you stick around long enough, we’ll let you stay in when we shut up, and me and Zayn will have a few drinks with you.” “Sounds ideal. Thanks!” He gave me a soft smile as he and Zayn went back behind the bar to continue their shift, and I took my place between Mo and Sasha, Molly and Niall sat across from us, and everything in the world felt right. “You look nice!” Sasha complimented. “I never see you in a bloody dress.” “They only come out on special occasions.” I grinned. “Thank you.” “Why were you late?” She asked. “Because I’m always late. No specific reason, just a late person!” Niall shuffled forward, leaning and grabbing the first champagne bottle, pouring each of us a glass. It wasn’t often that Mo drank, so I knew immediately that he was going to be a bit of a handful, and I was weirdly looking forward to it. He was practically giddy as our drinks were sorted out. “I am gunna be fucked at work tomorrow.” Niall groaned. “Pull a sicky.” “I’m not gunna pull a sicky, Mol, I need the money.” He groaned, and it was like they were mid argument. I scowled at them both, wondering why they seemed so annoyed with one another. I turned to see Sasha roll her eyes, like she was used to it. I was very confused. “Niall, just do it, you barely do any work anyway.” She huffed. “What the fuck is going on with you two?” Sasha snarled. “All you bloody do recently is argue!” “It’s her fucking fault, she’s annoying. Constantly.” “Shut the fuck up, Niall.” “Oh my god, you drive me fucking mad, I’m getting some air.” He was on his feet in seconds, storming towards the door to join the smokers who lingered out front, shrugging his blazer on a little more and shaking his head as he went. We all slowly turned to look back at Molly, who had wide eyes and a rigid frame. “What the fuck was that?” I asked. “I slept with Niall.” “WHAT?” She hid her face almost instantly, groaning and cringing and even stomping her feet as we all stared across in utter shock, waiting for an explanation. I hadn’t called it, and that annoyed me. Usually, even with a shock coupling, there had been at least a few hints that didn’t make it utterly surprising, but with Niall and Molly, I never would have guessed at it. They’d been friends for a long time without anything happening, no kisses or even flirting, as far as I had noticed. It was the best gossip we’d had in ages. “No fucking way.” Sasha managed to speak first. “When?” “The other week.” She grumbled. “That’s why you’ve been so weird with each other?” “I’ve never regretted anything more in my life,” She finally revealed her face again. “And trust me, I’ve slept with a lot of people worth forgetting.” “Mol, you’ve gotta figure this out!” I gawped. “We’re such a unit! And you work with him, too.” “Yes, Florence, I’m aware of that.” “You’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine. Everything will be fine.” Mo shrugged it off, sipping his champers. “Maybe you should marry him, who knows?” “Mo, stop trying to couple people up!” I chuckled, trying to be stern but failing, then turning back to Molly. “Well, I refuse to lose either of you, and we can’t have you falling out all the time, so…” “I’ll sort it. I will. I’m sorry! I promise not to snap at him again.” “Good, and-” “BUT ONLY IF HE PROMISES NOT TO SNAP AT ME!” I huffed whilst rising to my feet, shaking my head at her and knowing full well that it was not going to be an easy road towards the two of them being normal again. “I’ll talk to him.” I called over my shoulder, sauntering outside. Niall was stood with his back against the glass that revealed the inside of the bar, a cigarette between his lips and a miserable look crafted onto his face. As soon as I reached him, I took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it on the floor. “Oi!” He complained. “You don’t bloody smoke, Niall.” “I do when Molly’s involved.” I folded my arms and stood by his side, the glass behind me freezing my skin as I stared at the side of his face, surprised by just how upset he seemed. “She told us… What happened.” “Mm.” “And she says she promises not to bite if you also promise not to bite, and then we can all have a lovely evening together.” He didn’t say anything, staring down to the damp cigarette on the floor almost wistfully, stroking his tongue over the top row of his teeth, and I think I knew he was about to unleash his feelings before he’d even said a word. “D’ya understand how fucking hard its always been at work? Whenever she’d come in… talking about whoever the fuck she’d shagged that weekend. When she… fucking shagged one of my best mates? That shit stung, y’know?” “Do… Do you like her?” “Of course I fucking do. And she has no fucking idea, so don’t tell her!” “I won’t tell her, of course not, but… why won’t you?” “Because the second I… The second I even got close, I could see the regret in her eyes the moment it was over. And that was worse than… hearing her brag on about different lads she’s been with. So I’m not setting myself up to get knocked down. It’s not happening.” I tried to think back to times where Molly had come into work talking about people she’d slept with, and it happened often, and I could definitely recall some times where Niall had asked her to shut up, but really, we all had. She was extremely good at over-sharing. I hadn’t thought Niall was asking her to shut up in any different way to how me and Sasha always did. It must have been torture. “Are you alright?” I sighed. “I’ll be fine. I need to just… get past it. It’s fine. I’m fine.” “Let’s go get really pissed.” I nodded. “And if you wanna chat about this… I’m all ears.” “I do not wanna chat about this, Ren, but thanks.” I knew he wouldn’t. He was pretty closed off when it came to his feelings, so that didn’t surprise me at all. I just wanted him to know that the option was there if he ever chose to use it. I took his hand in mine as we walked back indoors, and I took the place next to Molly where he had been as he settled across from us with Mo and Sasha. I think he needed that room to breathe. Without being prompted again, the two of them began pretending that everything was fine. There were a few minor blips as the evening went on, but nothing noteworthy. We were onto the third bottle of champagne, when Mo introduced an interesting conversation, already wasted. “Okay okay okay!” He yelled to grab the groups attention. “So, since we’re coming to the end of the year-” “Not really.” Sasha giggled. “It’s the fifteenth of November, Sasha, which means it’s practically January. So, since we’re-” “It’s the fifteenth?” I butt in breathlessly. My heart was in my throat. Maybe I’d subconsciously ignored the date. Maybe I’d been trying to avoid thinking about it. But the second he said it then, everything hit me at once, and I’m really not sure what kept me from crying. I could see the looks on their faces, confused by my almost panicked state, my heart beating so vigorously I thought it may have been leaving a bruise upon my chest, and none of them had a single clue as to why. “Uh… Yeah. Why?” Mo fumbled, eyes half shut. “It’s… It’s nothing.” I tried to swiftly move past my turmoil. “Forget it. Sorry. Go on.” I thought the fact that he was drunk might have saved me, but from the suspicious look he was shooting me, I knew it hadn’t. Either way, it was clear I didn’t want to talk about it, so none of them asked. “O… Okay…” He trailed, attempting to get back on track. “Since we’re getting towards the end of the year, I was thinking we should all say something we’ve done this year that we’re proud of.” “You’re one of the cheesiest people I’ve ever met.” Molly giggled. “I know! Isn’t it wonderful?” “Extremely.” Mo was only just becoming closer with the people I used to work with, really. Because he didn’t drink that often, it usually meant he didn’t accompany us at our usual gatherings, because we drank a lot. But he finally felt like he was part of the team, too, and I could tell the guys were enjoying getting to know him. He was sweet and funny and wonderful. I knew they’d love him. Even if he was a little cheesy from time to time. It was all part of his charm. “I’m proud of the fact I’ve been getting more gigs.” Niall began. “That’s been sick.” The rest of us didn’t jump in quite as quickly as he had, mulling over things and trying to piece our year together, recalling accomplishments, even the minor ones. “I can’t think of anything!” Sasha complained. “I’ve done next to nothing this year.” “Trust me, Mo isn’t asking for much.” I giggled. “On my birthday, he asked me to list off my accomplishments, and was happy enough when I answered about a finger painting I’d done in primary school.” She eased a little knowing that he wasn’t looking for anything outstanding. We all eagerly awaited her answer. “I only had one sick day from work this year.” “That’s good! That’s really good.” Mo seemed exceptionally proud. “Well, I didn’t get fired, which is surprising! And I’m proud.” “I passed my driving test!” Molly piped up. “Twelfth times a charm!” Suddenly, all eyes were on me. I could have gone deep, but possibly too deep. I didn’t want to put a dampener on the night by becoming overly reflective on just how much had changed for me since the 1st of January. I felt like a completely different person, but in the best way. Almost every single aspect of my life had changed, and most of it could be placed down to growth. Most of it, I could confidently say I was proud of. To think I had a new job, where I was actually quite happy, and that I was finally building what seemed to be a good relationship with my family, was something that helped me to smile when I was feeling my absolute worst. My first therapy session back in January, was the very first time that I’d actually opened up to the idea that something was wrong, and something needed to change. It felt as though all I had done that year was grow and develop and become a version of myself that I was comfortable with. If I was going to really list off the things that I’d accomplished that year that I was proud of, I wouldn’t know where to start. And the same could be said for things I wasn’t at all proud of. I cleared my throat, before finally answering. “I’m proud of… um… the whole… I dunno. I’m just glad I’m talking to my family again.” “No matter how difficult.” Sasha grinned. “No matter how difficult.” I repeated with a small giggle. The rest of them sparked up again, chatting and merry, having the kind of evening we all promised we’d have. Yet, suddenly I felt like I couldn’t contribute. I could physically feel it happening, my stomach crashing in on itself, my mind fading from its happy conscious state to one that felt lost and empty. I completely, subconsciously, took myself out of my surroundings and wallowed in this place within my mind where all I could think of was the date. It was an angry beam within my mind, like a flashing light accompanied by a siren, like nothing else made any sense. I wanted to go back to enjoying my night and just being around my friends, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t escape it and it was crushing me. I couldn’t get back to my former state. 135 It was freezing cold, and I swiftly reminded of why dresses only came out on rare occasions. I had my arms crossed over my chest, gripping my fingers around the tops of my arms as though that would genuinely help to block out the cold, marching over to the location I needed as quickly as I physically could. The city felt miles away. The further I walked, the quieter it became, the lights a dull and distant twinkle that I felt I was leaving far behind. I already felt calmer than I had. I’d only managed another hour or so with the gang, before I told them I needed to leave. They all seemed a little bewildered, but by that point, Mo was so wasted and hilarious, it was hard to take the attention away from him. I appreciated that. He certainly hadn’t done it for my sake, but it definitely helped. I looked back over my shoulder, seeing myself distance from a busy existence and become lost in a place I had allowed myself to be lost more than once. It was a place that brought a calm that I had craved, and it was a place I had been exactly a year beforehand. Tall, orange lamps helped to give a soft glow to the boats that were pulled into the docks as I made my way to the right one, where exactly a year earlier, myself and Harry had passed bottles of beers back and forth, and come up with a plan so ridiculous it had literally changed my life. It didn’t matter how cold I was. It didn’t matter the hour, and how dark it was, I had to go back. “Fuck.” I shivered, feeling relieved when I saw the right one coming into view. I picked up the pace slightly, my dress almost catching beneath my feet as I hurried, breathing out a sigh of relief even knowing I was within the proximity of the place my body had been begging me to visit the very second I learnt what date it was. When I turned onto our peer, my body stopped itself, crashing to a standstill. He was there, head down, long legs dangling above the water, his back to me. Harry Styles had been drawn to the exact same spot I had. I stood in silence staring at him, the wind picking up and forcing my dress to cave around my legs, and the heat of my nerves and excitement over seeing him managed to warm what was otherwise a freezing cold evening. I’m unsure how much time passed, where I just stood staring at him, but the two of us were motionless. He kept his head down, and it was like the wind barely touched him, like it just circled around, like in his attempts to block out the world he’d become immune to his surroundings. I was fascinated by him. I always had been. Eventually, I began my approach, slowly wandering down towards him, hoping that my presence wouldn’t make him run back towards the city. I’d really wanted to be alone, and I imagined he did too, but the fact we’d both wound up there stirred feelings within me that I’d spent months trying to bury. Without saying a word, I took my place by his side, and as I hung my legs over the dock, he turned his head to me. I didn’t turn to look and gage his reaction to me being there, but I felt the burn of his eyes on my cheek, forcing them to be rosy red as I looked out at the peaceful water ahead of us, and surprisingly, I felt just as calm as those waters were. I’d given myself the chance to calm down, and I’d needed that. I knew that was why our silence continued, because Harry had to give himself that same opportunity. I guess it also wasn’t really easy to find the right thing to say. For a long time, we sat side by side in complete silence, both of us consuming and feeding that feeling that had taken us to the docks in the first place. As soon as Harry spoke, I finally looked his way, noting he was wearing a gorgeous black suit, admiring his profile as my stomach flipped simply from the sound of his voice. “I dunno why I’m here.” He grumbled, not looking back at me. “I guess… because… this time last year was when… I dunno. Everything changed that night. And… And I don’t think any of the good shit that’s happened to me this year, would have happened if we hadn’t… done what we did. Everything changed… right here… and, I couldn’t help but… I don’t know. I just wanted to come back.” He didn’t need to explain himself to me. He didn’t need to attempt at wording what it was that had dragged him to those docks. Everything had changed in the past year. Our initial idea was so ludicrous and seemingly short lived, but it had led to these exceptionally large changes within both of our lives, from really small things to things that were too large to fully comprehend. That had started on those docks. That had started with the two of us. He dropped his head again, his trembling fingers twisting the rings on his other hand. “Sometimes I think about… how different things would have been if we didn’t come here, and it scares me.” He swallowed before he continued. “So… I guess… this place just means a lot to me.” That was probably my cue to say something. That was cue to make some sort of contribution to the conversation, to tell him that I’d felt the same thing, and that was why I was there. I should have simply said that where we’d found ourselves meant a lot to me, too. But I didn’t. “Why… Why are you here?” He asked quietly. “Harry, I love you.” I blurted without thinking, his head lifting the second I’d said that. “I’m sorry, but I’m so fucking in love with you, and these past few months without you, I’ve… I’ve not been the best version of myself, because that’s something that you help me to be. I know that… happiness isn’t a goal, but… when I was with you, at least it was a consistency. And I miss you so fucking much, and I’d do anything to have you back. And I know I’m probably too late, and I fucked up one too many times, but I just… I should have told you when I came into your shop last month, but I was still so unsure about what was the right thing to do. But I’m not anymore. I know I have to tell you this. I love you, and I need you, and if you could… maybe forgive me… for everything… and just give me one last chance… I just need one last chance and… I’ll love you fully, in the exact way you deserve.” My voice had quivered and quaked throughout my ambush of passionate proclamations, because none of it was prepped or thought out or contrived. Those words had come from somewhere else, a cove of my heart that helped the thing to beat and keep me breathing. What I’d said was so abrupt and hysterical, that I couldn’t even really recall any of the words I’d used. All I knew was that I’d told him I loved him, and that there was a physical ache within my body that begged to hear those words in return. Tears spilled over my eyes and ran down my cheeks as I waited for his reply, the two of us gazing at one another, biting my bottom lip and trying to read what it was he was feeling. He dropped his head again, looking down to his lap, his hands forming into a fist and his brows creasing at the centre. “Ren,” He released an exasperated sigh, his shoulders drooping. I burst out sobbing, my calm and hopeful tears turning into aching weeps just from the tone of his voice. The miniature glimmer of hope I’d had fizzled and faded in front of my eyes. “I’m sorry.” I whimpered, knowing he had something to say and wanting to remain calm enough to hear it. “Ren, just listen to me, because I need you to understand something, okay?” He was back to looking at me, his face stern as he waited for me stop crying, if only for a moment. I bit my lip again, the action helping me keep the sobs at bay, nodding in a weak attempt at prompting him to continue; to tell me what it was he needed to tell me. He finally felt we were both ready, and he spoke. “I just need you to… realise… that I won’t fucking let you go again, Florence Daisy Valentine. This is it now. If we’re really going to do this, then that’s fucking it. It’s me and you, forever. That’s the fucking deal here, okay? I’m not gunna let you walk away again. When shit gets hard and when things seem hazy, it’ll be me and you. That’s what I need you to understand. I’m not letting you go again.” Somehow, through the tears and through the fact I couldn’t fully consume what it was he’d just said to me, I managed to smile. I placed my shaking hand against my mouth, my tears turning from heartbroken cries of what I thought was love lost, to tears that represented shock, relief, and happiness. “You don’t mean that.” I blubbered, my whole body on fire. “I do. I do because I want you, for the rest of my fucking life. And I’ve always known that but… being without you for the past few months just reinforced it. I mean every fucking word, Ren.” I wanted to stop crying, to close the gap between us even for a gesture as simple as him holding me, but I couldn’t. I was in pieces, my smile not diminishing even though all I was doing was crying. I was in a bliss state of shock. He was kind of smiling as he watched me, wonder in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” I apologised once more. “Just give me a second to calm down. It’s fine. Holy shit.” “I love you so much.” He chuckled. “Oh my god, Harry! You can’t say that! I’m just going to cry more!” “I’m so fucking madly in love with you.” What actually happened, was those words seemed to calm me. It was almost like an assurance, something that my body welcomed back as though it was returning home, where it could breathe easily and just sigh its beautiful relief. Hearing him say he loved me, was the one thing that stopped me crying. Frantically, at least. There were still tears streaming down my cheeks as I looked across to him, seeing how happy and bashful he looked, reaching my hand out so we could join our fingers together. “I’ve missed you so much.” I whispered, shuffling a little closer to him. “I’ve missed you too. More than I can explain.” He breathed, shuffling to so our legs were touching, and then he lay his forehead against mine. It felt so good to be that close with him again, for our skin to meet, even in such an innocent way. I closed my eyes, my body shuddering liberation thanks to the contact, feeling him reach his hand upwards to cup my cheek. “This is our time now, isn’t it?” He whispered. “It feels like it. Harry, I’m so sorry for-” “Please stop apologising to me.” He pained. “We’re here now, and we know how we feel, and we’re gunna figure this out. I don’t care if it’s… the easiest thing in the world, or if it’s really fucking hard. I love you, I always have, I always will, and this is it. Me and you, okay? Promise me.” “Me and you.” I repeated. “I promise.” He produced a smile so delicate, I almost began sobbing again, but I didn’t get the chance. Slowly, he began to tilt his head my way, the notion drawn out and almost painful, my free hand that wasn’t clasped within his moving to lay on his chest as his lips finally pressed against mine. I joined him in that bubble he had created, where the outside world didn’t exist, where neither of us could feel the cold or the wind or be in fear of the darkness. We were there, together, locked within a golden light that couldn’t be fragmented. His grip on my cheek tightened when he widened his mouth, his tongue delightfully draping against my own, my smile so wide I was almost stinting the kiss completely. As tranquil as I felt, I was more alive than I had ever been before, electricity beaming through my body as we kissed upon those docks, this strange feeling as though the two of us were so at peace with everything that had happened, because this was where we’d found ourselves. He tasted sweet, his honey voice a zest I could devour, his cherry lips a flavour I had almost forgotten. Everything felt right. He pulled away just slightly, his kiss still stinging my mouth and his lips still grazing mine. “Let me take you home.” He groaned, quiet and strong. 136 As soon as the door to his flat opened, Moggy ran straight over to me like a flash of light, as though she had actually missed me. “Hi, baby!” I squealed, crouching down and scooping her into my arms, Harry grinning as he closed the door behind us. “Oh my god, do you like me?” “What?” Harry sniggered, wandering over to the kettle, as always. “I’m pretty sure she went back to hating me. But now you love me again, don’t you?” I bleat, and she nudged my chin with her head. “She always loved you. Trust me.” I kept her in my arms, brushing my cheek across her thick fur as I wandered a little further into his home, noting the small changes that had been made since I was last there. “Looks good in here.” I told him, spotting new pieces of art, and more flowers than there ever had been in there before. They were everywhere. On every surface they could be, and a long line at the bottom of his window. The place was bursting with different colours. He used to keep it quite simple in there, a mixture of oranges and browns and warm colours, but that had changed. Seeing that some of the new art he’d purchased had a burst of blue within it, could seem so minor to most, but I knew the depth of what that meant. He’d removed that colour from his life as much as he could previously, and the fact that he’d now purposefully placed that colour within his home, almost brought me to tears. “Thanks.” He replied calmly. “I’ve… I’ve missed having you here.” “Missed being here.” “Congrats on the flat, by the way.” I turned to him with my brows low, Moggy still in my arms, and the puzzled look on my face meant that I didn’t even need to vocally ask my question. “Louis told me.” He blushed shyly. “I know you… still go and see him sometimes, so… I liked to… check in. Make sure you’re doing okay. He told me, and said you’d booked for drinks and you were celebrating and… Well, that’s why I’m all dressed up.” He gestured down to his suit with a smile. “I was gunna come and… I dunno. Doesn’t matter anyway, I didn’t have the guts.” “You… You were going to come tonight?” “Wanted to see you.” He mumbled. I placed Moggy down on the floor, my heart beating like mad. Harry had probably been aware of the date and what it symbolised well before I was, and I think it was that fact which had almost drawn him to me that night. Thankfully, we’d found our way to one another regardless, but the thought of him getting dressed up to surprise me that night sent my heart racing. “Harry, come here.” I whispered. He sluggishly walked towards me, head down, and he was still so nervous and shaky even just admitting that he’d planned to come and see me, and then lost his courage. As soon as he was close enough, I clasped my hand at the back of his neck, fingers finding themselves playing with short hair, sharp but smooth to the touch. I lifted my jaw and kissed him, tender and thoughtful, his hands being placed upon my waist as he kissed me back. I still couldn’t quite believe I was there, back in his home, back with his lips on mine where they belonged. We were so soft with one another, like we needed a little time to fully wrap our heads around what was happening, how we were feeling, and how those feelings were finally in line. “I love you.” I spoke against his lips, gripping at his short hair. His grip on my waist tightened, and he moaned, as though the words were a gorgeous weight he could feel upon his skin, a weight that he welcomed and treasured. “I love you so much.” He returned, gasping into my mouth. He moved one hand lower, gathering a bunch of the material of my dress within his left hand and then lifting it up so it collected around my hips. Then he moved his right hand, slowly stroking it down the front of my body before dipping his fingers into the front of my underwear, leaving me wheezing as he trailed two fingers between my folds, and bit sweetly at my bottom lip. “I need you.” I trembled. “Take it off, please.” He did as I’d asked, moving his hand to pull at my dress and lift it over my head, and the second the material was off he took his lips to my collarbone, my fingers messily pulling at the buttons on his shirt and taking them from their slots as he shrugged his blazer off, grunting and groaning as we began falling backwards towards his bed. I felt as though I’d been deprived of him in so many ways since we parted, and that was one of them. Having his lips all over me, having him undress me, hearing his vocal bleats of pleasure. The wonder of his voice and the sounds he could emit had always affected me, but when those sounds were sexual, the feelings it irrupted within me were truly magnificent. By the time the backs of my legs crashed against his bed, his shirt and blazer had been removed, and his mouth had found its way back to mine for just a moment before I dropped backwards, landing with the light thud onto the mattress, and immediately playing with the straps on my shoes. He stood ahead of me, eyes always fixed with mine as he fiddled with his pants, his chest heaving and throat hitching. I unhooked my bra, and then subconsciously placed my hand atop my thigh, covering my scar. This was something that Harry picked up on instantly. “You don’t need to do that.” He hushed, his loose pants dropping to the floor, then moving to kneels on the bed, between my legs. “You don’t need to hide anything from me.” We lay down, his lips lavishing my jaw as I cusped the hem of his underwear, gently pulling it downwards, his girth rubbing up against my white lace knickers. His lips began to lower, ghosting down over my chest and my stomach until his teeth were nipping at the one bit of fabric left on my body. He hooked his fingers around the lace and pulled downwards until it was left to me to kick them off the rest of the way, his tongue protruding from his mouth and licking harsh against my nub. “Fuck!” I shuddered, that small trace sending my body into oblivion. He gripped at my legs to keep them still as his tongue dove into me, my fingers searching through his short hair, my back arching as he worked. I felt incredible because he made me feel incredible. Not just then with what he was doing, but always. I had never known a force like it, where his love elevated me into this existence that felt so healthy, and thriving. Of course my natural instinct was to walk away from something as powerful as that. It was completely in my nature to reject something so pure. I never wanted to be that way again. His mouth worked against me, causing me to writhe and wind atop his sheets, still just about being able to make out his satisfied moans that tingled against me. Being with him didn’t just feel like coming home, but as though we were returning to our motherland, rediscovering our origins and giving ourselves the chance to grow together. Because I knew that our roots were intertwined, and they ran so deep they couldn’t separate. His tongue searched into me, tilting his head and bolting his eyes open, glaring at me with those enchanting eyes, and I could feel the tilt of his smirk against my core. That was all it took for me to unravel, throwing my head back and silencing through the orgasm, Harry lapping it up as though he had missed my taste. Smug, he brought himself upwards, one strong arm holding him afloat above my body as the other gently stroked at his length, and I was still coming down from my high. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He groaned, lining his tip at my entrance. He moved his mouth down, kissing and licking across my neck as he slowly pushed into me, my hands clasping at the sheets as my entire body was overcome with sensations that washed over me like a flood, gradually becoming accustom to his size. I cursed once my body eased, a smirk breaking its way onto my lips, my body glad to welcome his return. I felt as though I was stepping into summer, bursts of green and gold growing beneath my feet with each step I took into the season. We had both been missing within winter, cold and empty and withholding new beginnings; but being back with Harry, having him love me so intensely, so physically, aided me in my escape of a valley lacking life and wilting before my eyes. Finally, I could feel that the air was gentle. Finally, I could feel that the iron sky was altering into a soft blue. Finally, I could feel the blossoming branches stretch towards the sky and burst with colours that would titter in the wind. Finally, we were summer. He slowly ground his hips into me, lips still on my neck and hands harsh on my waist, grunting every time he pushed into me fully, strong yet calm with each movement. I dragged my fingernails lightly down his back, grazing over the curve of his backside before gripping him there, the notion forcing his hips to pick up their pace. He let his lips travel to my ear, nibbling sweetly on my lobe and groaning his admiration. “You feel so good.” He told me. “I’ve missed you. I’ve needed you.” I cracked my neck backwards, wanting him to always be whispering words of love and wanting into my ear, because I would never tire of hearing them. Effortlessly, he flipped us, dragging me along with his movements so that I was straddling his waist, automatically rolling his way and watching his mouth drop open and his brows lower. I placed one hand on his chest, feeling his heart beat as I circled my hips and bit my tongue. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes shamelessly stalked down my body. I reached me hand out and touched his lips, the tip of his tongue reaching out to lick at my thumb. “T-touch yourself.” He asked breathlessly. “Look at me, and touch yourself.” I leaned closer to him, my forehead resting upon his as I snaked my hand downwards, gently rubbing my clit, the sensation forcing my eyes to close. “Harry.” I called his name with bated breath. “Please keep your eyes open. Please, I need- Fuck!” My lashes flicked back upwards, making sure to keep them open as much as I could as I worked my hips and touched myself to the point of pure ecstasy, our moans increasing in time with one another. Harry kept his eyes open too, attempting wistfully to gaze into mine as we neared our peaks. His brows were furrowed, his lips parted to make way for the aching pants that pushed across my skin. “You’re golden.” He panted. “You’re golden you’re golden you’re fucking golden.” He pushed up his chin with speed, forcing his lips on mine and digging his tongue into my mouth as we came, mine happening just moments before his, pulsing and tightening and wetting him towards his finish. He continued kissing me throughout, his trembling hand clutching my bright red cheek, the tips of my fingers foraging over the vein that obtruded his neck. “I love you.” I whispered to his lips, the words forcing them to stretch into a beautiful smile. “Feels so good to hear you say that.” He spoke between brooding kisses. “I never thought I’d hear you say that again.” “I love you.” I told him again, my grin stopping our kiss. “One more time.” He sighed, closing his eyes slowly, his throat jolting. “I love you.” “Fuck. Nothing compares.” I kissed at his unresponsive lips, admiring his idyllic features, the way he reacted to me saying I loved him. I wanted to stare at him forever. Eventually, he opened his eyes again, stroking this thumb gently beneath my eye, and he just looked amazed, as though he couldn’t quite believe the sight. “Will you stay the night?” He asked quietly. “Of course.” I finally got off him, the two of us getting beneath the sheets to keep ourselves warm. Harry stayed on his back as I placed my chin upon his chest so I could continue gazing at him, one of his hands propped beneath his head and the other playing through my hair so gently. I kept my eyes on him as we lay in silence, his eyes closed, completely heavenly. “Harry?” I whispered. “Mm?” “We were… We were split up for a while.” “I’m aware of that.” He grinned, eyes still closed. “Did you… Was there anyone else?” He opened his eyes then, tilting his head downwards and creating the most adorable double chin, smirking a little. I think he liked that I’d asked. “No one else.” He confirmed. “Would you have been jealous? If there were?” “Painfully.” I admitted. “But… I mean, I would have been fine with it, but… I’m still glad you didn’t.” “Did you?” “No.” I shook my head. “Didn’t even look at anyone else.” “Me neither.” He sighed, jutting his head up and summoning my lips. “You’re my one and only, sunflower.” Once I was in place, I kissed him, soft and slow, my hand resting upon his cheek as our mouths functioned in time. I was so excited to sleep by his side again, because I’d only gotten to experience one evening of entirely undisturbed slumber with him. I had only been there with him once, and it was the very first time the dreams had stopped, so neither of us were prepared. It felt like we couldn’t appreciate it quite enough. I was utterly thrilled by the thought of falling asleep in his arms, and waking up exactly the same way. “I hope you know I never stopped loving you, Harry.” “I never stopped either.” He swallowed, nudging my nose with his. “I fucking tried, but… I couldn’t. What happened? The day you left? I still… I don’t know!” “Matty, she… fucked with my head.” “I knew that much.” “Made me think… I was with you for the wrong reasons. Made me out to be… to be just like my mum.” “You’re nothing like her.” He scowled. “Not in the way that she said, no, but… It really messed with my head and I… I got lost again and it felt like I went… crashing back to square one. But that’s why I went straight back to Dr Jackson because I knew that it wasn’t right. I just knew it wasn’t. And I never stopped loving you, ever. I just… I really wanted what was best for you, and I-” “You’re what’s best for me.” “-shouldn’t have tried to make that decision for you, and I’m sorry. I was in… a bad place, but I’m not there now.” Somehow, he still looked a little hurt by the fact I’d ever been there at all, but he nodded, his fingers brushing silkily through my thick hair, his eyes dropping for a moment before he looked back at me, poised and assured. “If you ever… do… go back there, y’know all I wanna do is support you and help you through it, right? You don’t need to turn away from me.” “I know that now.” I kissed him tenderly. “I wanna be there with you through everything.” “I wanna be there for you, too.” He smiled again, his lips blooming to a shape I wasn’t quite sure I’d seen before. I could almost feel it, this new confidence and assurance within our relationship that maybe we’d been lacking before. I think, in a way, we had expected something to happen. We had expected something to trigger within me that made me run from our love, so overwhelmed and almost threatened by it. There had been something there before, something in the back of both of our minds, where we knew that I could snap at any moment. That didn’t exist for us anymore. For the first time, we knew exactly where we were, and how we felt, and we knew that nothing was going to change that. There were no doubts or fears or worries. That’s what I could see within his smile then. He knew that I wasn’t going to turn away from him again. “Move back in with me.” He spoke abruptly. “What?” “I love you, and that’s never going to change. The happiest months of my fucking life, were the ones where you were here with me. I need that again. We work so fucking well together-” “I’ve literally just got a flat, Harry.” I giggled. “Fuck the flat. Come home!” I couldn’t say no. I didn’t want to say no. I couldn’t think of anything better than to be back there, to call that place home again, for it to be ours. We knew what it was like to live with one another, and I had to agree. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been happier than when we shared our lives so intimately. “Okay.” I whispered. “I’ll come home.” He pushed my head down and kissed me again, and we were both beaming. We were so achingly happy with one another, and we could clearly see the bright future that we were building together, where the once grey skies were eclipsed by a golden sunrise instead. The moon was shooting silver arrows directly onto us through his window, but I couldn’t see anything other than the yellow hue we created between us. His body was the earth, and I was laying upon a beautiful bed of flowers. The kiss fevered, my mouth desperate for more of him, my lips engorged and eager. “Look at me.” He gasped, jaw tight. “Ren, look at me.” Breathless, I created a small amount of distance, my hair falling and coving around his face as he looked up at me in silence, like he was merely taking the moment in, making sure that he could remember every single second, painting the image of me upon a canvas in his mind. His hand reached up, thumb stroking down over my swollen lips, his voice so quiet, and so full of love. “A view has never been so beautiful.”

[taxesdeathtrouble]

past Saturday night

so this is my unedited gertchase fic that i’ve been working on the past couple days because i’m obsessed

~3000 words

the title’s from Etta James’ ‘Sunday kind of love’

enjoy!

1. Its after a meeting when he realizes. The six of them are sitting in a circle at Timely trying to make a decision for once, arguing over who's house to go to first to look for a book they'd heard their parents talking about.

"Okay, how about we split into groups of two, check three houses, then get back together to check mine and Karolina's houses?"

Everyone nods, and Alex continues, "Okay, so Nico and I will go to her house, Karolina and Molly will go to Molly's, and Gert and Chase will go to his house. Set? Okay, let's go." Karolina stares after Nico as she leaves, only looking away when Molly nudges her shoulder. God, Chase is so glad he backed off; it clearly was never going to go anywhere.

Gert stands up, and of course he follows her out they get to their cars, then pause.

"Your car or mine?" Chase shouldn't blush, because that does not sound dirty, why did he even think that, what the hell.

"Uh, if you think I'm passing up a chance to ride in the fanciest sports car of the century, you are sadly mistaken, my friend."

Friend. That sounds nice. He wishes he'd never said that they weren't. He wishes that he wasn't so fucking stupid.

Because that's what he is, right? He can design gloves that shoot fire but not know when a girl isn't into him, not know how to deal with how he feels about his father, not know how to deal with liking Gert.

Woah, WHAT?

The wheel jerks in his hands, almost sending them off the road, and he decides to focus on driving instead of this- this revelation.

"Dude, be careful. Jeez, Karolina is a better driver than you."

Oh right, Gert is in the car with him. Shit. Can't he deal with his feelings in peace? He keeps his eyes on the road, determined not to look at her, her soft face and gorgeous hair that always looks good- he has to take fifteen minutes every morning to get his hair to look marginally fine, and she pulls a hairbrush through it and she looks like she just stepped off a Pantene commercial set. It's unfair, is what it is.

"Hey, I resent that." Okay, this is good. Playful banter is good. Not revealing just discovered feelings is good.

"Why? Don't you think she's perfect or something?" Oh, shit. Chase wishes he had spidey sense like that vigilante up in New York, then he'd know when he was about to get caught in a complicated bit of conversation.

"Not really. We're friends, you know? And I mean, Karolina is great, and everything, but.....I don't feel that way about her. At least, not anymore."

"Oh."

Yes, oh.

2. Chase doesn't like the way Gert makes his heart feel. The record speed pounding whenever they're alone, the way it feels like his heart is being squeezed too tight whenever he sees her with someone else.....it's almost physically painful.

Like right now. They're at Timely, helping each with homework, and she's flirting with some floppy haired barista while she waits for their drinks (sugar hopped coffee for her, decaf for him), which she'd decided would be a good incentive for him to work on his Spanish. She'd told him to look over his notes while she grabbed the coffee, but he couldn't bring himself to focus. Like, at all. He's pretty sure he hasn't taken his eyes off Gert since she got up from the chair across from him.

Predictably, as soon as she starting talking to the barista, Chase's heart started up the oh-so painful squeezing. And really, he could just look away. But she's just so bright. Smiling and talking and being  so irreplaceably Gert that he doesn't even care that it's not directed at him. Except, that's stupid, because of course he does. He's green eyed monster levels of jealous. If Gert were talking to him instead of that dumb barista and also could read his mind she'd probably say that that's his teenage boy brain talking. But whatever, Chase is actually a teenage boy, so, suck it.

Upon realizing that he's pseudo-arguing with Gert in his head when she is literally, actually, ten feet away from him, Chase gets up and walks over, plucking his drink out of her hand, and takes a sip.

"So I was totally hyped to see it , then- Chase. I was just about to come back to our table, you could have waited another minute."

"Yes, but then I wouldn't have this sweet, sweet coffee in my hands. Also, I accidentally took yours and that is a lot of sugar."

She snatches it back and hands him his coffee, giving him her patented 'you're a dummy but you're being really cute about it' look. At least, that's what he hopes it means.

The barista catches his eye, and, dejectedly, goes to serve a customer.

3. Gert has never looked more stunning in her entire life, Chase is sure of it.

She's walking down the aisle, the train of her dress trailing behind her, and she's positively glowing. He can see her hands shake as they clutch the yellow rose bouquet- Karolina had said that yellow represents eternal happiness, or something, so they'd gone with that.

All their friends are seated in the pews, dressed in their Sunday best for the (secretly named by Chase) Best Wedding Of All Time. Nico even wore a colour other than black, though Karolina had had to wager something to do so- Chase still isn't sure what.

She's in front of him, now, and the ceremony starts. They'd asked Alex to do the ceremony only a few weeks before the wedding (poor planning) but at least he was, for some reason, already ordained at 23 years old. He's ridiculously emotional all the way through, and so is Gert, in that way where she's trying really hard not to be too sappy. Chase already is too sappy, but he doesn't care; His vows dive deep into that sappiness, actually, and hers aren't much past it. Chase isn't sure when he started crying, but he just can't seem to stop.

He's so unbelievably happy.

And then he wakes up.

He wipes the tears away, and grabs his phone. 4: 23 AM. Dammit. He really needs to stop this. Since he'd had his World's Biggest Dumbass moment a few weeks ago and realized just how much he likes Gert, he's been having this same dream every night, with more details added on every time he falls asleep like a twenty car pileup of 'I have feelings for Gertrude Yorkes'.

He considers calling her, just to get her voice out of his head, but it's past four in the morning, there's no possible way that she's awake, and calling would just piss her off.

But then she's calling him, which is so unprecedented that he almost forgets to pick up the phone. He does pick up, though, because he does have a few brain cells still alive up there.

"Did you know that Molly has started making a harness for my dinosaur?" he can only kind of see Gert in the dark of her room on the video call, but her voice is somehow jittery and dead tired all at once.

"What, really?"

"Yeah, she wants to ride her. For fun. Ugh, sisters."

Chase stifles a laugh, and lets her go on about an argument they'd had today. He's glad he doesn't have a light on, or he's sure that he'd look ridiculously heartsick.

"Yeah, so Molly really wants to go see it, but I told her sitting in a dark theatre for a couple of hours just the two of us would turn us into sitting ducks, and she said not to overthink, but-"

"You're overthinking it?"

"Yes! And it's totally unlike me to be so paranoid, but after what happened with Alex....."

"No, I get it. If you want......I could go with you? To the movie? If it would make you feel better." Oh Jesus. Did he really just do that? Oh Jesus.

"Yeah, it would make me feel better, actually. Safety in numbers and all that, right?"

"Right." Oh god.

"Wait, Chase. What time is it?"

"About 4:40? Why?"

"Wow, my insomnia reaches new heights. Sorry for waking you up."

"you didn't, I was already awake."

"Bad dream?"

"More like complicated dream." She makes a questioning noise, and he realizes that he probably shouldn't have said that. Gert is definitely going to want to know what he's talking about.

"Uhmm, I should go, gotta get some semblance of sleep, bye Gert!"

And then he hangs up. Phew. That was close.

4. The movie theatre is dark, and kind of crowded. Gert is sitting in between him and Molly, who is watching the movie avidly. It's some overcomplicated horror movie that neither he nor Gert has been able to pay attention to. They've been quietly throwing popcorn at each other since the movie started.

"Guys," Molly whispers when a piece of popcorn hits her, "Pay attention!"

They turn back to the movie, a little guiltily, and attempt to follow the plot.

Ten minutes later, Chase yawns and stretches his arm back, back, back over the top of Gert's seat. It's, to be honest, the cheesiest thing he's ever done. Gert's shoulders tense, then she leans against him, just a little, and it makes him want to jump for joy.

He catches Molly's eye over Gert's head, and sees she's trying not laugh. Like, really trying (It's not working very well). He glares at her, tries to be intimidating as possible, but she's still giggling. Whatever.

He moves his hand, minutely, up and down her shoulder. If this was literally any other girl he would have kissed her by now. Gotten it over with, been together.

But she's not any other girl. She's Gert. Gert, with the opinions and snark and her own unique brand of perfect that Chase still hasn't figured out how not to be affected by.

He can't just make out with her, out of the blue and unprecedented. He has to let it build, let them get closer and closer, before he asks her quietly, softly, when they're all alone, if he can kiss her.

He knows that that's sappy, to plan out how he wants to ask her out (if he ever does),  but he really can't bring himself to care. He wants to have a plan, it helps him compartmentalize how he feels. Although that's probably not healthy, to be honest......

"Hey, are you okay?" Gert whispers. She looks concerned.

"Um, yeah, yes. I am. Why?"

She reaches up and softly smoothes her thumb over the crease between his eyebrows; His eyes fall closed.

She pulls back her hand, seeming to realize what she's doing.

"You looked worried, that's all."

5. "How long have you liked Gert, again?"

"About two months- wait, Jesus. I didn't mean to tell you that."

Karolina laughs. "Which is why I tried to catch you off guard with it. It's okay, though. I'm not going to tell her, though I do think you should." they're drinking together on Karolina's terrace, a break from all that's been going on. Unhealthy coping mechanisms for the win!

"Oh, no-o way. Nuh-uh. Not a chance. If I tell her, and she doesn't like me back, which she won't, because she at most only finds me attractive and thats it, it will ruin our friendship, which I don't want to do because then the group might get messed up, which we can't afford, because our parents are fucking murderers! Yeah!" he takes another big swig of vodka, and she follows his lead, though she chugs more than sips because she's drinking rosé in a can, the genius.

Karolina, bless her, moves past his mini meltdown to say, "Oh, she finds you attractive? And you noticed?  Where was this observant Chase Stein when you were convinced you were into me?" she nudges him, teasing. She's definitely tipsy, sober Karolina is too sincere about things to make fun of anyone.

"Where was he when I kissed you? Jesus, I was dumb."

"True, so true." they clink their drinks together in camaraderie.

"Hey."

"Hey, what?"

"You should call her." for a girl that looks so angelic, Karolina sure does have a devil's smile.

"No, I should not."

"Yes, you should, but if you won't, I will!"

She pulls out her phone, tugging off her bracelet and shooting into the sky before he can grab the phone from her.

She lies horizontal, three feet above him at standing height, just out of his reach.

"Gertie!! Hi, sweet cheeks, how you doing?"

"Uh, well, you're drunk calling me at 1 AM so..." oh Jesus, she put her on speakerphone.

"Karolina, oh my god, hang up!"

"Not until you talk to her!" he's trying to grab at her sweater and pull her down but it is Not Working.

"Is that Chase?" her voice is sort of crinkly through the phone, but it's definitely her. Chase doesn't have enough luck for Karolina to call the wrong number.

He sits down again. He's not going to get her to come down, and the alcohol is starting to make him dizzy.

"Yes! Here, talk to him."

"Oh my god, Karolina, what the shit!" he says as he sprints to catch the phone before it smashes on the ground into a million pieces.

"Heyyy, Gert."

"Hi? What was that?"

"Karolina just yote her phone at me and I had to go catch it."

"Did you just use 'yeet' in the past tense?"

"....Yes." he's drunker than he thought he was, Jesus.

"Do you need a ride or something or am I just Karolina's drunk dial?"

"He needs a ride!" Karolina says, swooping down and practically yelling into his ear.

"Jesus, Karolina, way to give me a heart attack."

"Oh, you poor, poor, baby. Anyways, Gert, yes, he would like a ride. It's late, anyways. We're at my house, see you then!"

And then she hangs up.

"What, pray tell, the fuck, Karolina."

Gert gets to the house 20 minutes later, parking in her parents beat up monstrosity.

"And that's my cue," Karolina says, getting up, "Bye, Gert! See ya later!"

Gert sits down next to him and pushes a bottle of water into his hands.

"So vodka, huh? I always thought you were more of a scotch kind of guy." she says as he swallows it down.

He puts the now half empty bottle aside and says, "I am, but I can't drink scotch out of the bottle without making a face. Vodka, though, I have perfected my reaction too, so I can drink and still look cool."

"Chase, dude, never once has anyone thought you cool. Come on, let's go."

"Okay, but I want you to know that what you just said was offensive and hurt my feelings. You're going to have fight for my forgiveness."

"I'm making sure you don't walk home, isn't that enough?"

"Hmm, maybe."

They drive in relative silence, save for bursts of quiet banter. When they reach his house, he grabs her hand and thanks her.

"It was really nice of you, you're so nice, thanks again." (he's still kind of drunk.)

And then, he does the unthinkable.

He leans in, slowly, and presses his lips to hers, softly, a whisper of a touch.

But he still kissed her.

He's halfway up the drive before he realizes what he's done.

+1. He wakes up the next morning and promptly freaks the fuck out.

Well, actually, untrue. First he takes an aspirin for his hangover. Then he freaks out.

Because, really, what was he thinking? He had a plan. He had a  specific way he wanted to do that. And then he went and just kissed her, out of the blue, unprecedented, exactly the way he hadn't wanted to do it.

She definitely knew he liked her, now.

Monday he goes out of his way to avoid her, even though he shouldn't. He makes sure he doesn't cross paths with her, and he makes it until he gets pulled into a broom closet on the way to fourth period.

"What the- Oh. Hey, Gert."

"......Hi." she's fiddling with the hem of her shirt, like she always does when she's nervous.

"Um, Gert. I want to apologize. What I did Saturday night....that wasn't okay. I shouldn't have kissed you out of the blue like that," he had a plan, "It's okay if you don't want to talk to me for a while, I guess."

She looks down, shoulders hunched. He wishes he wasn't responsible for her acting this way, wishes she wasn't upset.

"You know, in case my feelings for you make you.....uncomfortable, or whatever." Chase leans against the door, getting ready to flee the scene and recuperate on Mars, or something.

"Woah, you actually have feelings for me? Shit, I totally thought you were messing with me or you were just too drunk, or whatever-" He reaches out and squeezes her arm.

"Gert. You're literally the coolest, most unique girl I've ever met. I think you're gorgeous and smart and awesome and way too good for me. But I," he pulls back, "I get that you don't feel that way, and I'll back off. I promise."

"Well, you....you shouldn't."

And then she kisses him.

It's not perfect. It's a little messy, and he has to lean down so she isn't on her tiptoes. But then he changes the angle, and her hand goes in his hair as he wraps his arms around her.

They miss fourth period. Chase can't say he cares much, though.

FIN

[kellythepitiablefangirl]

Tagged by @the-stars-descend to answer 85 questions about myself. Thanks, gorl! <3

last

1. drink - thai bubble tea 2. phone call - an employment coordinator for the new job I’ll be starting :^) 3. text message - my mom 4. song you listened to - Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths – it’s on the Midnight Sun playlist and a BOMB 5. time you cried - in the shower a few days ago thinkin bout midnight sun

ever

6. dated someone twice - I’ve never dated someone once (I’m just gonna leave your answer since it applies to me too) <- same, Jennifer 7. kissed someone and regretted it - never kissed someone in the first place!!! 8. been cheated on - I’ve never been with anyone in the first place!!! 9. lost someone special - my hermit crab 10. been depressed - other than some minor college blues about lots of work and bad weather, no, fortunately not. 11. gotten drunk and thrown up - I’ve felt the effects of alcohol, but never to the extent of having gotten drunk, thank Neptune

fave colors

12. gold 13. jade green (or grass green?) 14. dusky rose

in the last year have you…

15. made new friends - yep, I made quite a few new friends in college! now that college is finished, I hope I can still make some my age x__x 16. fallen out of love - only with fictional characters thus far 17. laughed until you cried - probably, but I can’t remember the last time because it’s too frequent, what with constantly hilarious memes nowadays 18. found out someone was talking about you - my mom has told everyone she knows that I got the job before I told even my friends, so yeah, I found out that people at work know every detail :’) 19. met someone who changed you - I’ve known @mafitheedwardhoe for a little more than a year now (feels longer) and she’s expanded my vocabulary quite a bit and m a j o r l y helped me with art and has been a great frand! And @the-stars-descend is also a massive influence for my new art and is so nice to talk to! :^) 20. found out who your friends are - In a positive way, sure! 21. kissed someone on your facebook friends list - NEVER KISSED ANYONE EXCEPT MY TWILIGHT POSTERS

general

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know irl - I’d say about 90%? 23. do you have any pets - I have a 10 gallon fish tank with two catfish, three neon tetras, one cherry barb, one black molly, and a black kuhli loach named Linguini Wiggles III Jr. 24. do you want to change your name - Nah… 25. what did you do for your last birthday - It was my 21st, and my friend surprised me by getting a group of my high school friends together for lunch, and we went to see Get Out together! :) 26. what time did you wake up today - 9:30-ish, then I read Midnight Sun and was on tumblr until 12:00, when I finally got out of bed (I’m a goblin on vacation) 27. what were you doing at midnight last night - scrollin thru tumblr like a goblin and laughing at y’alls jokes 28. what is something you can’t wait for - Maybe to get my own apartment? To go out with friends more to clubs and stuff once I’ve moved out? Start dating? 30. what are you listening to right now - nothing right now :^) 31. have you ever talked to a person named tom - Probably, but can’t recall… 32. something thats getting on your nerves - twilight hate 33. most visited website - Tumblr (same, Jennifer) 34. hair color - very very very dark brown (pretty much black) 35. long or short hair - long hair, about three inches below tiddie length 36. do you have a crush on someone - YES, my fictional BABY, but also a person irl who shares the same green eyes as that fictional bby, who I’m trying to get over because I’m not EVER going to go back to live in Syracuse (where I went to college) 37. what do you like about yourself - I’m a good listener? I’m okay at art (better at music)? I write well? 38. want any piercings - Nope, nothing beyond my ears having been pierced once. 39. blood type - Not sure! 40. nicknames - my little brother calls me “Face”, and my name is listed in his phone as “Pube” 41. relationship status - single and ready 2 mingle with only edward lookalikes or edward himself 42. zodiac - Pisces 43. pronouns - she/her 44. fave tv shows - Star Trek: The Original Series, Spongebob Squarepants, A:TLA….. I can’t think of any more 45. tattoos - No, but maaaaayyyyybe someday… Like… the queen chess piece from the Breaking Dawn cover? lmao. Keep it subtle. 46. right or left handed - Right! 47. ever had surgery - nyope 48. piercings - Just one piercing on each ear. 49. sport -  I’m good at badminton! I don’t watch it, though, or literally like, any other televised sport. 53. drinking - Maybe when going out to dinner or at an evening party with friends, but never enough to get drunk. 54. i’m about to watch - my tumblr activity feed bc i crave attention 56. want - to see @the-stars-descend attempt literally any twilight animation (but on her own time :’)) 57. get married - Hopefully, but like… I can wait… 58. career - Environmental Scientist involved in ecosystem restoration/remediation projects?

which is better

59. hugs or kisses - hugs for now but just WAIT TILL I GET MY FIRST KISS 60. lips or eyes - eyes 61. shorter or taller - taller 62. older or younger - I don’t mind, as long as the person isn’t more than one year younger. 63. nice arms or stomach - how about both? but also “nice” as in not very muscular. I like ‘em not too toned (y’all know I love the Edward body type). 64. hookup or relationship - relationship 65. troublemaker or hesitant - hesitant?

have you ever

66. kissed a stranger - no 67. drank hard liquor - Not yet 68. lost glasses - YES 69. turned someone down - Oh my god, yeah, and the guy was named JACOB. Kill me. 70. sex on first date - no, but if it was the green-eyed boy……… hell ye 71. broken someones heart - nope 72. had your heart broken - nope 73. been arrested - nope 74. cried when someone died - yes 75. fallen for a friend - nope!

do you believe in

76. yourself - yeah! 77. miracles - yeah? 78. love at first sight - In fiction, sure. In real life? Hmm… I believe in “interest at first sight” or “mutual attraction at first sight”. 79. santa claus - santa can g e t  i  t 80. kiss on a first date - please @green-eyed boy 81. angels - yeah, but the creepy biblical kind in revelations and prophecies and other events. I’m not sure about guardian angels…

other

82. best friend’s name - Nisha 83. eye color - dark brown (nearly black) 84. fave movie - Spirited Away? Twilight (2008)? New Moon? Eclipse? Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan? 85. fave actor - Kristen Stewart?

and I tag (for those who have the time and motivation to do this): @thethoughtsofafangirl @halemasen (come on dina DO SOMETHING ON YA TWILIGHT TUMBLR) @alilaro, @masochisticlion, @mafitheedwardhoe, @cudan2, @pieceofourforever, @misterleet, and @strangegirlsclub!

[lo-fipopculture-blog]

Cody’s Top 10 of 2017

By Cody Lunsford

In 2016, I did a very bad job of watching movies. I only saw FOUR of the movies nominated for best picture. 2017 was VERY different. I’ve seen every movie nominated for best picture. I saw a grand total of 107 movies released in 2017, plus all of the older movies that I watched this year.

There were a lot of factors that came together to create this surge in movie watching. (1). I got MoviePass. Chad’s written about how valuable of a service it is and it’s absolutely true. I’m able to see so much more in theatres now because I’m not breaking the bank to do so. It also makes me feel less bad about seeing movies that seem like they’re obviously bad. (2). I got Netflix DVD. “What is this: 2006?!” I hear you saying. But it’s actually been a great service. Obviously there’s lots of stuff that’s on streaming services, but there’s also quite a bit that isn’t which is why it’s great to get the DVDs (as a supplement to streaming of course. Still got have that Netflix/Hulu/Amazon/HBO Go cocktail). Netflix DVD tends to get newer movies before streaming services, in addition to having some older, harder-to-find stuff. (3). I got more active on Letterboxd. It is, without a doubt, my favorite social media platform. For those of you who don’t know, it’s a way to log movies as you watch them and share your thoughts on the movies, see what your friends are watching and their thoughts on movies, and make lists, which made making this top 10 list an easy task since I’ve been working on it all year. (4). I started a movie podcast with my friends. It’s called Best Pictures and our goal is to find the best movie for every year we’ve been alive. Yes, this is a plug, but it’s also definitely a reason why I watched a ton of movies this year. I had to keep up with my co-hosts and sound like I knew what I was talking about.

That’s why I watched so many, but now let’s get into what movies topped the list. It may seem weird that a “best of the previous year” list isn’t coming out until mid-February, but I wanted to make sure that I had seen everything that might would make my list. Let’s begin with some honorable mentions.

HONORABLE MENTIONS (#35 - #11)

#35. Darkest Hour, #34. Molly’s Game, #33. It Comes at Night, #32. Logan Lucky, #31. Okja, #30. War for the Planet of the Apes, #29. Baby Driver, #28. American Made, #27. Thor: Ragnorak, #26. Good Time, #25. Spider-Man: Homecoming, #24. Ingrid Goes West, #23. Annabelle: Creation, #22. Coco, #21. Detroit, #20. Alien: Covenant, #19. Blade Runner 2049. #18. Mudbound, #17. Brigsby Bear, #16. I, Tonya, #15. Star Wars: The Last Jedi, #14. The Meyerowitz Stories (New and Selected), #13. Phantom Thread, #12. Your Name, #11. The Florida Project.

Look. 2017 ruled, film wise. It’s hard to narrow down stuff that I really liked. Now to top #10.

#10. Super Dark Times

Super Dark Times was a bit of a surprise for me. I watched it when it came on Netflix and was instantly blown away, realizing that I may be watching a new cult classic in the making a la Donnie Darko. It’s tense and horrifying and completely grabs your attention from the very opening of the film. It’s the type of movie that make your eyes grow wider and wider with each passing scene. The only thing that I’m unsure about when it comes to Super Dark Times is it’s ending, though that also adds to its likelihood to attain cult status, as it’s the type of ending that can debated and discussed for hours.

#9. Raw

Raw isn’t easy to watch. It’s about a vet student who develops a taste for human flesh. With a premise like that, it’s obviously going to lead to some gnarly scenes. But the beauty of Raw lies in how much the film elevates what could be a schlocky b-horror movie premise. Raw isn’t just about cannibalism, it’s also about finding yourself at college. It’s also about how your family still has a giant influence on you even when you leave them. It’s also at times about the special bond that siblings have. And yes, it’s also about eating people.  

#8. Logan

The best superhero film of the year and arguably one of the best ever made. It’s brutal and rough, yet contains one of the strongest emotional threads I’ve seen in superhero movie. Hugh Jackman gives a performance as Logan that is completely unique to this film, yet doesn’t feel disingenuous to the iterations of Wolverine that we’ve seen before. Dafne Keen is a revelation as X-23, portraying just how tough a kid has to be in this grimy future. It’s incredible that despite me not being the biggest fan of the X-Men franchise as a whole, especially the last few, that this movie can still swoop in and hit me like a ton of bricks. There’s not many superhero movies I’ve cried during. This is one of them.

#7. The Post

It’s hard to imagine a world in which this movie would be bad. With the all-star team up of Steven Spielberg, Meryl Streep, and Tom Hanks (and that’s not even counting the insane roster of supporting actors), there was no doubt in my mind that this would be excellent. It’s the type of movie that makes you want to stand up and cheer at people who persist until they win. It has incredible scenes that make your heart race, such as when Bob Odenkirk goes to get the Pentagon Papers and the later scene when Tom Hanks’s team sorts through the documents. It also has little Spielberg touches, such as a little girl making a killing selling lemonade to the team, that tie the whole thing together and make it feel human.

#6. The Big Sick

I’ve known who Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon are for many years from following the LA comedy scene so it has filled me with absolute joy to see a film that they wrote, based on their real life experiences, be such a hit this year and get Oscar attention in addition to being well-liked. It’s a rom-com that defies some standard rom-com tropes and offers a unique love story that we’ve never before seen on film. The movie also does right by Emily’s parents, played by Holly Hunter and Ray Romano doing some of their best work. Instead of making them obstacles in the way of the romance, it fleshes out these characters and Kumail’s relationship with them. It’s such a brilliant twist on the rom-com formula to have Emily’s parents be on board with Kumail before Emily herself is.

#5. Dunkirk

Finally, some recognition for Christopher Nolan (though before this, the last movie of his that I loved completely was The Dark Knight.) This is a war movie that is done in a way I’ve never seen a war movie been done before. It features Nolan’s trademark fascination with messing around with timelines, intercutting between storylines that take place over a week, a day, and a hour respectively, before finally culminating together. It’s tense and fast-paced. You barely get to know any of the characters’ names, which actually works to drive the idea that Nolan is presenting home. This could be anyone’s story of war, it doesn’t matter the specifics.

#4. It

Stephen King is probably my favorite author. I’m a huge fan of things that are spooky and I’ve always loved that in his stories, he’s able to make you care deeply about the characters as well as scare the hell out of you. It’s been awhile since we’ve had a mind blowingly good film adaptation of a Stephen King movie and It definitely reached that status. Bill Skarsgard as Pennywise the Clown is unsettling, yet still somewhat funny. The scares are unique and terrifying. The kids are so damn good. It’s a mammoth book and the way that this adaptation streamlined or cut things out was masterful. I feel like this may be one of the movies on this list that I revisit the most.

#3. Get Out

I’m sure you’ve gotten the idea already that I’m a big fan of horror films. And while It showed what the big blockbuster version of a horror movie could be (and let’s still be clear, the blockbuster version of a horror movie still has a much smaller budget than other blockbusters), Get Out offers how effective a small budget horror movie could be. It also came in and demanded that horror being taken seriously, becoming the first horror film to be nominated for Best Picture since The Silence of the Lambs, though there’s definitely an argument to be made that particular film is more of a thriller. That would make Get Out even more impressive, making it the only horror movie nominated since The Exorcist. Regardless of how you define other movies or how long it’s been, there’s no arguing that Get Out is impressive, especially considering it’s Jordan Peele’s directorial debut. I’m fascinated to see where he goes next.

#2. Lady Bird

It would’ve been hard for me to hate this movie. It’s funny, it’s coming of age, it’s got scenes of musical theatre. Every character in this film is completely realized and painfully authentic. Every funny moment in the film feels real. The relationships that Lady Bird has, with her mother, with her first loves, with her best friend, with her dad, with her brother, are completely relatable and speak to that unsureness, yet complete brazen confidence that comes with being a senior in high school. The throughline of being ashamed of where you came from, yet proud once you’ve left is especially poignant as someone who left a small town to go to college. The realization that your parents are just people and that despite you feeling frustrated and suffocated, they want the best for you, is a hard thing to grapple with and this movie handles it beautifully.

#1. The Shape of Water

“HAHA, that’s that movie where a girl bangs a fish, right?” I mean...yes. But the beauty of The Shape of Water to me is that particular moment doesn’t really even feel that weird. The film instantly immerses you in a storybook world set within a version of the 1960s that isn’t quite true to life. It’s a fairy tale, through and through, complete with a musical daydream, a frog prince, a princess who’s been struck by some “curse”, and a villain who is literally rotten. There’s a lot of arguments that this movie is a bit simplistic or things move at an accelerated rate and to that I say: it’s a storybook. It’s not real. It is meant to feel fantastical and not grounded. It looks gorgeous, performances are phenomenal, and you feel the love put into this production in every scene. I love it.

For more on my thoughts about these, and other movies, listen to the latest episode of Best Pictures where we have the FIRST ANNUAL PICKIES to nominate OUR best of the year.

[ruiningvoldemortday]

Cali Reads DH- Chapter 36- The Flaw in the Plan

- “she spoke as if to a lover”  Bella honey I love you but maybe chill - Narcissa Malfoy is an absolute QUEEN and who would ever expected the woman from Borgin and Burke’s in HBP to be the hero of the whole wizarding world just from the love of her son - How the hell did the Cruciatus Curse not affect him? - Having Hagrid carry Harry’s body out of the forest is just cruel ;-;  My heart ;-; - The “Harry Potter is dead” sequence in the movie is so freaking Narmy.  Ralph Fiennes is actually a good actor but he overdoes it SO MUCH as Voldemort it’s kind of ridiculous. - Also the hug.  Never forget. - NOT MCGONAGALL NO DON’T BE SAD ;-; - Neville.  You absolute fucking BADASS.  Neville standing up to Voldemort is the GREATEST MOMENT IN LITERARY HISTORY.  He’s not the toadless boy any longer.  He’s a FUCKING LEGEND.  “I’ll join you when hell freezes over.  Dumbledore’s Army!”  YOU GET ‘EM KID. - And then when Voldemort tries to punish him for being AMAZING he SLAYS NAGINI WHILE ON FUCKING FIRE LIKE WHAT A HERO NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM IS THE FUCKING BEST MAN - JKR was careful not to show the kids killing anyone but Harry shooting curses at every Death Eater he can and leaving their bodies to be trampled by the crowd kinda sounds like killing Death Eaters. - FUCK YEAH KREACHER! - This whole last chapter is going to be a whole lot of FUCK YEAH.  Because there’s a lot of awesome in it.  Nothing compares to Neville, of course.  Because FUCK YEAH NEVILLE. - Ron and Neville brought down fucking GREYBACK I never even noticed that before! - I’m very proud of Arthur and Percy for flooring the guy who killed Fred.  Vengance is sweet. - Awww shit it’s the other most badass moment in literary history.  I was totally expecting Neville to take out Bellatrix but SHIT it’s awesome watching Molly do it.  I mean, yes, Bellatrix is my favorite character but I also recognize that she’s a  terrible person and her death is really satisfying.  Do not ever, EVER fuck with Molly Weasley or her kids.  EVER. - “NOT MY DAUGHTER YOU BITCH!”  Never in the history of ever has there been such an incredible “oh SHIT” moment - Bellatrix you absolutely deserved this after taunting her about Fred.  Rip in pieces you glorious bitch. - And time for the final showdown.  The moment we all waited a decade for. - Oh, yes, Voldemort, all of the times you didn’t get your way were just accidents, surely your ridiculous evil scheme will work this time. - Harry putting a love shield on a couple hundred people kind of feels like an ass pull but it also kind of feels satisfying so idk man - “You don’t learn from your mistakes, Riddle” and that is why he fails - Oh my god Voldemort you are such a walking cliche.  “YOU MEAN HE WAS WEAK!”  chill dude - Did he really never suspect Snape’s loyalty?  Are you shitting me?  Bellatrix doubted Snape’s loyalty.  Listen to your Death Eaters, my dude. - I fully accept that he ended up being on the side of good.  I still hate him because he’s an humungous asshole.  The two are not mutually exclusive. - “he love her for nearly all of his life”  AND THAT MAKES EVERYTHING FUCKING FINE. - I really fucking hate this revelation :) :) :) - “Try for some remorse”  Harry.  Harry, honey.  You didn’t really expect that to work, did you? - “Aren’t you listening?”  Nope.  He can’t hear you over the sound of his own ego. - If the master of the Elder Wand was going to be such a major plot point and cause Voldemort’s downfall, wand allegiances NEEDED to have been brought up earlier. - In what universe does “hitting the floor with mundane finality” translate into “exploding into confetti”?  Like, that’s missing the ENTIRE point. - Yaaaaay the good guys won! :D - Kingsley Shacklebolt will be an amazing Minister of Magic. - Luna is the best, what a sweetheart.  Distracting everyone in her precious Luna way so her friend can be left alone <3 - Neville keeps the sword of Gryffindor with him next to his plate because of course he does.  When he’s teaching at Hogwarts later he probably keeps it on his belt just to show what a badass motherfucker he is. - I want a ten hour dance remix of Peeves’ victory song - Awww, Dumbledore’s proud of Harry.  That would be a lot sweeter if he hadn’t been manipulating him his whole life.  And if he hadn’t left him to be abused for ten years with no intervention at all. - It’s so sweet that Harry would rather have the wand he’s used all along than the most powerful one.  Harry’s good people. - “I’ve had enough trouble for a lifetime.”  Well said bb <3

[serena-lacroix]

The Pyre of Our Love || Lerena

When: June 2023 Where: Phoenix Circle, London Who: Lexington Brighton and Serena LaCroix (Mentions of Rion Hannifan, Levi Yaxley, and Molly Weasley) Trigger Warnings: Angst. 

The entire night had been a blur. Drinking at the bar, spotting Rion, drinking more… She’d stopped paying attention to good sense or reality after several shots. She cared even less about what was happening as they left The Leaky Cauldron. She should have known then to just turn around and go home. Anger was still fueling her; the first sign that she was on the wrong path.

Walking up the steps with her jacket over her arm, she felt disgusting. She was sure she smelled of alcohol, could feel it seeping out of her pores, and her hair was a tousled mess. She stopped outside their front door, keys in her hand, trying to think of something to say. The words weren’t coming and she knew better than to think she could come up with some speech to talk her way out of this way. She was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Pushing the door open, she pocketed her keys again and stepped inside, looking around for any sign that Serena was already up. Not that she deserved it, but it would have made Lexi feel better if she wasn’t waking her up to deliver bad news.

Serena wasn’t sure if it had been the sound of the keys in the lock or Brutus’ excited bark that had woken her up first. Both had seemed to happen almost simultaneously in her groggy mind. But as soon as the door was open and her girlfriend entered the apartment, Serena sprang to her feet. “Where the hell have you been?” She snapped, trying to keep her voice down. The last thing she wanted was to wake Levi or Molly. “You’ve been gone all night. Some sort of warning would have been nice, at least so that I wouldn’t have stayed up all night waiting for you to come back.” The armchair hadn’t been the most comfortable piece of furniture to doze off on and it had left a crick in her neck - one she was sure would bug her for the rest of the day.

She knew that most of her irritation came from worry. But there was also still a small part of her that was frustrated by all the time she’d spent trying to make an apology dinner for her girlfriend. Cooking had never been Rena’s best skill and trying to make the perfect meal had been a nightmare. Not to mention the dozens of candles she’d had to assemble, light, and then eventually unlight away had been a giant waste of effort as well. She’d been too tired and irritated to put them back once she’d realized Lexington had no intention of coming back to the apartment and thus they remained where she’d arranged them.

Lexington flinched the moment she heard Serena’s voice. Looking around, her heart sank. The blanket covering the armchair and the candles scattered around the living room made the pit of despair in her stomach sink even further down. She dropped her bag and her jacket onto the floor beside the door, averting her eyes to her boots as she let Serena lay into her. She was in no position to argue. She just waited until it was over, though she knew it was nothing compared to what was coming for her once she opened her mouth again.

“I’m sorry,” she started quietly, running her hands through her hair. She looked over at Levi’s sleeping form and then realized they couldn’t do this here. “Can we go in our room to talk? I don’t want to wake anyone up,” she requested, gesturing to the door and then heading that direction without waiting for an answer. Once inside, she stood beside their bed, unable to look at it. Pictures of them together were on the bedside tables and lined the top of the dresser and each one sent a shot of pain through her heart. What had she done?

Rena huffed and followed after Lexington, pausing to glance back at Levi before she shut the door behind her. Pulling out her wand, she cast a muting charm on the door. “There. Now we won’t wake anyone up. So, where were you? Getting drunk? Because you look completely wrecked right now.” It was a little unfair of her to be so rude but she couldn’t help it. It absolutely infuriated her that Lexington got so upset over her being overprotective and then proceeded to do something she knew would drive Rena crazy with worry. She couldn’t help but feel as though she was being set up just to get yelled at. “And don’t bother trying to lie to me. I can smell the booze on you.” After spending the better part of two years always drunk, Serena could always tell when someone had gone on a bender.

Keeping her eyes down, she nodded slowly at Serena’s observations. “I got drunk, yes.” There was so much more to it, so much she needed to say, but the words clogged her throat and made it hard to breathe for a moment. “I may do a lot of things, but I don’t lie to you. I never lie to you.” She looked up at Serena then, ignoring the tears brimming her eyes. She didn’t deserve them and she didn’t want to cry when she was the one who was about to ruin everything they had. “I went to the leaky cauldron to drink and I… I ran into a friend…” She stopped, clearing her throat. “I went home with him.” She stopped again, finding it hard to string together more than a sentence at a time.

The tears in Lexington’s eyes sent Serena’s heart jerking in her chest and she stepped forward, automatically reaching out towards the other girl. “I’m still a little angry with you for staying gone all night without telling me, but at least you didn’t pass out in the street or anything.” She sighed and tugged the other girl into an embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You don’t need to cry, mon chou. Everything’s going to be alright.” She rested her chin against the top of Lexington’s head and nuzzled her. “I’m sorry for being so annoying lately. I’ll try to be better about it from now on.”

Lexington did nothing to stop Serena from touching her even though she felt sick at the embrace. The kiss made the tears flow freely and she reveled in the moment, letting herself feel every inch of Serena that pressed against her. Her heart felt torn and she knew that she couldn’t keep this up. The option was there; lie and pretend nothing had gone wrong, let Serena believe she’d only slept at a friend’s house. It wasn’t as if Rion would ever talk. Still, she could feel the guilt eating away at her already. Pulling back, she resigned herself to the fact that it might be the last time she ever felt that close to Serena again. “You… you don’t get it. I… I didn’t just stay at his house.” She forced herself to stop crying, though she could barely see through the blur of tears threatening to break free. “I slept with him, Rena…”

Confusion welled up as Lexi pulled away from her. She stood in silence as Lexington explained what she meant. The words felt like a punch to the gut and she couldn’t stop the sharp inhale. It had to be some kind of joke; Lexington couldn’t have cheated. She wouldn’t. But the tears told a different story. And suddenly, she felt sick. Because while she had been up all night, preparing and worrying, Lexington had been having sex with someone else. Someone she apparently knew. The blood roared in her ears and she could barely hear her own voice as she asked the question bouncing around in her head. The ones question she knew she’d never want the answer to but had to ask anyways. “Who was it? This friend. Who?”  She had to know who had been worth the destruction of their relationship. And when she did, Serena would make sure they regretted the action. Because the anger that was burning her up from the inside demanded to be released in some way, to be channeled into making someone else feel as awful as she did in that moment. It had always been her choice of self-defense. But even now, as betrayed as felt, even now she couldn’t find it inside herself to raise even a finger to Lexington. Serena hated it.

Once it was clear that Serena knew the truth, finally understood what she’d done, Lexington knew there was no going back. This was her choice and she would deal with the repercussions, whatever they may be. Still, it took her by surprise when Serena asked her who. For some reason, she hadn’t expected her to want to know. She’d almost hoped, in fact. She knew how Serena felt about Rion and she was officially afraid of what would happen. Of course, there was no going back. She’d promised no lies. “I… It was… Rion.” Her voice was shaky but that didn’t stop her. The name rang clear through the room, almost too loud in the silence. She wanted to drown in her own tears in that moment, not wanting to live another second of this moment.

Rion Hannifan. Of course it was. Of all the people in Great Britain that Lexington could have slept with, of course it was the one person Serena could stand the least. Her grip on her wand tightened. When she got a hold of the slimy little git, she would rip him into pieces. There wouldn’t be anything left of him for them to bury by the time she was done. Whirling around, she stormed towards the door, intent on making good on her own internal promises. As her hand closed around the knob, however, something tugged at the back of her mind. Reaching up, she unclasped the necklace that hung from her neck and stared at it as it lay in her palm. She hadn’t taken it off for even a moment since Lexington had given to her. It was blood stained and had some slight damage from the attacks it had gone through. The necklace had always brought her strength and a sense of safety; a small reminder that she’d always have her best friend by her side. And in a way, she still did. Lexington had been her best friend before the relationship. They could remain friends afterwards as well. But there was no way she could continue to give her heart to the girl behind her. Not when it was clear Lexington wouldn’t protect it anymore. Turning around, she walked back over and held it out for the other girl to take.

Watching Serena turn her back on her made Lexi feel a swell of sickness. She couldn’t blame her, couldn’t make herself stop the other girl from leaving. She knew it wasn’t her place anymore. Whatever Serena needed to do now, Lexington would let her do. Then Serena turned back to her and it took Lexi a moment to realize what was happening; the necklace hung between them, a stark visualization of just what was happening between them in that moment. “Serena… No…” She felt herself start to tear up all over again, hating the way her emotions seemed to own her whenever Serena was the subject on her mind. “Serena, don’t… I don’t want it back…” She couldn’t. She couldn’t move her arms, couldn’t open her hand to accept it. She felt frozen in that spot, willing her world to stand still until she could figure out how to proceed.

“I can’t keep it. It’ll just make me think of you and I… I won’t be able to handle that.” Her voice shook as she spoke and she clenched her jaw, trying to force it to stop. She hated how weak she sounded. Moving quickly, she grabbed Lexington’s hand and forced it open, shoving the locket inside of it. “We were friends before and that doesn’t have to change. But that’s all we can be now, nothing more. That locket reminds me of too many other things. So either you keep it or you can get rid of it.”

There it was. The irrefutable proof that she’d ruined everything. “Nothing more.” Just like that, it was over. She knew she had no one else but herself to blame and she felt sick for hating Rion in that moment. The locket was in her hand and Serena’s touch burned. She let her hand fall back to her side as soon as Serena let her go, unable to move or think for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she stuttered weakly, watching Serena closely. “I’m so sorry…”

“Sorry isn’t enough this time…” Serena said softly and turned back towards the door. Any other time and any other mistake, she would have been able to forgive Lexi. She would have brushed it off and they would have gone on as they had. But not after the fight they’d had. Not when it seemed as though Lexington had slept with Rion just to get her back for being overprotective. That wasn’t a betrayal she was willing to forgive that easily. Opening the door to their room - their former room, she corrected herself- Serena didn’t even stop to look behind her as she left. Tears had formed in her eyes and she didn’t want the other girl to see them. Because if Lexington tried to console her, it would only break her down further and she knew the risk of her forgiving Lexington just to keep the other from getting upset was too high.

Her heart was splintering into pieces and she felt like she was going to come unraveled. She knew as soon as the door opened, there was no going back. Serena was gone, walking out of their door, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do now. Her knees buckled and she barely caught the edge of the bed before she collapsed, falling to her knees. The locket was clutched so tightly in her hand that she could feel the metal biting into her skin but she couldn’t let go. It was all she had left. As the sobs wracked their way up her throat, she was sure she was never going to be the same again. If she’d lost Rena forever, she’d lost everything.