#square one is an episode that i want to like more because the 'turning back time' plotline is cool and interesting!

[seattlesellie]

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.

[theastrologylady]

Synastry oberservations:

Moon in the 7th house overlay is always such a pleasant placement. While 7th house can represent enemies, I have seen this particular overlay play out as people with an instant mental connection. A deep understanding of the other and a keen intuition (especially the house person towards the moon person) about the other's feelings. Great for both platonic and romantic relationships. Like that episode in FRIENDS where Chandler says "you and me man"(see gif below 👇)

Mars square Pluto - this is a tough aspect no matter how great the rest of the synastry. These are two of the strongest planetary energies in any chart - both in a way encompassing your drive. If you are in a relationship with this aspect (platonic or romantic), you have to get comfortable with agreeing to disagree. It's really easy with this to get caught up in "winning," which will ruin even the best of relationships. Mars will feel rage towards this person like they have never felt before and start to lash out with equal fervor. Pluto will be more patient at first, but once angry, it's deep rooted. Pluto will always seek retribution (very cut-throat). Both must quell those instincts in order for the relationship to survive.

5th house overlays in romatic relationships bring a lot of pride into a dynamic. Mind games are so easy to slip into here that you don't even notice. I think this is because the 5th house is such an intimate house. (Think about it - your guilty pleasures; the things that bring you the most joy; giddy feelings that flutter without control, as if it were all the first time you felt it. These are all very vulnerable things to be sharing.) They will both feel "silly" and "exposed" because they can't control their absolute delight when talking to the other person. The "I won't text back this time to seem cool" dynamic. They need to learn to let their guard down with each other, because often why this overlay isn't considered "long lasting" is that the people in it don't realize the immensity of love the other one actually feels because of the inability to lay your cards down.

Moon conjunct Venus - Moon cares sooooo much about how Venus is feeling, doing, and is always the best supporter of Venus. Venus evokes sincere empathy from Moon. Venus, in turn, deeply admires Moon. They instantly like Moon and see them as this etheral, magical being. Moon is usually unaware of how Venus sees/feels about them. Moon's nurture is easily felt, while Venus's respect is something so deep that it only shows with time. It's a simply delightful story. Whether friends or lovers.

(Unpopular opinion) Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus or Mars in 8th house overlay is AMAZING for friendships, not so great as lovers. As friends, they will know you more intimately than any other friend because you will both be able to speak openly and share deep thoughts. It's also a 100% ride or die placement. As lovers this is super intense, obessive, and usually codependent. Both people have to be like fullyyyy confident in themselves (who they are; what they want; THEIR BOUNDARIES; and to be extremely comfortable with solitude so that the relationship doesn't become a drug.)

Mercury conjunct, trine, sextile or opposite Sun/Moon/Venus - just the best conversations ever. The rapport is so smooth and easy that you only notice how easy it was until you go back to other interactions and realize what you took for granted. Awesome placement for people looking for something deep (whether platonic or romantic). Both feel very much understood and "on the same wavelength."

Ascendent trine, sextile, or oppose Sun - quick to be good friends. There is instant chemistry here, too, so it could turn into those friends to lovers.

[noneorother]

The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2 - A Detour! We all misunderstood the Bentley scene, and it's going to blow your mind. *Part 5*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The End?

Welcome to the Bonkers Meta Series featuring your favourite Art Director/Clue detective. I have to take a detour around Crowley and the final fifteen, so sorry!

So I'm still trying to wrap my head around WHY the Bentley changes in Scotland, but I think I've worked out what happened in the Bentley as Crowley drives away in the final scene of S2E6. Lots of people have speculated that the music is a last ditch miracle message from Aziraphale, or even the Bentley sticking the boot in, or trying to be consoling. I think it's a gut punch for Crowley, but also... a ✨Clue✨! So we know from the S2E3 that Aziraphael has "trained" (?) the Bentley to play his music that stays his music.

And the next time we hear music in the Bentley it's "Something modern", as Shax is threatening Aziraphale that she knows where Gabriel is. Aziraphale is now making this face :

Also known as the OHSHITOHSHITOHSHIT. But then the credits roll, and we are introduced into the 1941* Minisode directly. Which is quite weird, considering the other two historical flashbacks we get are preceded with Aziraphale interacting with something and then *remembering* because it jogs his brain. If we roll over the 1941 Minisode we get this scene directly after it. Aziraphale is parking the Bentley and makes this face.

Also known as the Wasn't that a fun jaunt. And then precedes to NOT TELL CROWLEY ABOUT SHAX. It's like he's forgotten the threat ever happened. So the Bentley goes back to where it was parked after being scolded, and no one uses the radio again (Crowley does drive it but there's no music playing at the beginning of S2E5, my bad!). No one has used the radio since Aziraphale got out of the car in the end of S2E4. So here's the bonkers part.

I think Aziraphale played A Nightingale Sang in Barkley Square to calm himself down on his way back to tell Crowley about Shax, and it triggered the Minisode/memory about 1941. Then when Crowley drives his car for the final time, the radio starts up where Aziraphale last left it when he parked it before the ball.

So Crowley is hearing that when Aziraphale was driving back from Scotland, he was playing their love song. Which he really can't handle right now, and turns it off.

BUT BUT BUT. How do I know it's their love song? If I'm right about it triggering the 1941 minisode/memory, then that means that the song was a record of that story, just like the book of Job or Aziraphale's journal, but it's been erased. Want to know which scene in S2E4 HAS NO MUSIC?

Yeah that's what I thought. Not a date my ass. ___________________________ *If you want, I have more on the 1941 Minisode and it's altered state in Episode 2 of this series.

[alwaysonf1]

leak?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 740

Warning: N/A

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Dates and times don't matter.

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you see what’s trending right now?”

There’s a sigh over the phone and Iman feels bad, but not enough that her anxiety is subsiding or that she can apologize in the moment.

“Mon ange, it’s not even a good picture of us. Plus, would it be so bad?”

Yes, is on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t the truth. Iman had just hoped there would be more time before the world knew. She’s adept at handling the media frenzy because of how it was when the world found out she existed. But this was something so fresh and new. She didn’t want to have to share it with anyone.

“No, I just…” 

There are no words that come to mind. Logic is returning to her brain and she knows she’s being dramatic. Next to K-Pop stans, Formula 1 fans are creepy good at detective work. And one is always going to be around no matter where they are.

Also, she wasn’t completely bothered. There was a part of her that took joy in speculating that they were together. That he was her’s. It just isn’t strong enough to make the biggest impact in her head.

Iman sighs.

“Let them speculate. We don’t have to confirm anything.”

Another sigh.

She knows that he’s right, but she’d deluded herself into thinking that things could be chill. For at least a month. Or a week. But she’d found herself attached to Charles’ hip no matter how in public they were. There was some hope that if anything were to leak it would be her getting her ass handed to her in volleyball by Logan. It was ego bruising because she’s the one who played it through high school, but it was better than this.

“I know.”

“Then why all of this? You knew it would come eventually.”

“Not this quickly,” she mumbles.

There is a sound on the other end that sounds like a scoff. Iman has picked up when Charles is calling her out on her bullshit.

“I mean I could post that video of you falling on your face on the beach. That would get everyone’s attention,” Logan chimes in.

Iman’s eyes narrow as she turns to look at him leaning against her door frame snacking on popcorn. Lewis stands behind him with the bowl of popcorn that he’s been eating from.

Both idiots think her reaction is funny and have been watching her as she fights not to go into a spiral. Lewis has made comments about how she wasn’t even this bad when things got intense with the media after their episode. 

The urge to cuss them out presents itself, but Iman simply raises her hand with only one finger extended. Both of them react in faux shock and offense before falling into a giggling fit.

What she’d done to have this life she wasn’t sure, but goodness did it sometimes test her. 

“Mon ange…”

“Huh?”

Charles laughs. “I asked what you wanted to do. I want what makes you happy.”

For a second, she sits with her lips pursed as she thinks about it. They could get it out of the way, but it is much too soon to be making those kinds of announcements. Even if they’re both sure about this, it feels much too fast. Though Iman has to be honest in admitting that sometimes things move at a different pace when you’ve had years of friendship. And there are a few recent thoughts she’s had that are much faster than admitting to dating Charles Leclerc.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“For now, at least. If they catch something else and it goes crazy, we’ll just admit it. Or after like a month.”

“Okay, but mon ange, I’m not going to change my mind about you.”

Breathing becomes hard and Iman is barely able to tell him bye as they hang up the phone. Her phone drops from her hand and she falls back to fully lay on her bed. Butterflies are how she’d describe what she feels.

Laughter starts. At a speed that could give whiplash she turns her head and glares at the two pains in her ass.

“Get out!”

A pillow sails through the air and hits Lewis square in the face. Logan is gone before the other one can leave her hand and Lewis isn’t far behind him.

“Lord help me,” she says, sighing.

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, and 45,628 others

logansargeant 2x national champ my ass.

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[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention in 4 Minutes Episode 4

Congrats to the Dome is Tonkla's brother truthers!

Let's talk timelines again. I still think we're working with two timelines, but I no longer think they're cleanly separated. Because if they were, you could not have some of these things happening concurrently. If we only had an Original timeline and a Redo timeline, then everything Great changes should be part of the Redo timeline. But in this episode Great saved Nan in the same timeline where Dome was dead, which we know because Great got Nan's location by getting Korn trashed after Korn fought with Tonkla over his abandonment in the aftermath of Dome's death. These things are all connected, so we can't cleanly sort events into one timeline or the other.

Which means it's most likely that the two timelines are bleeding together, making things unstable. This would explain Great's experience of overlapping moments last week, and Tonkla seeing Dome briefly before things went all weird and he disappeared at the end of today's episode.

By the way, it turns out those cold opens are not of the future--Tonkla has already done the murder in the same timeline where he's messing around with the cop. ETA: @my-rose-tinted-glasses pointed out that this is not necessarily true if the scene of Win getting the fingerprints and the phone call is also in the future. So back to square one on that!

Speaking of, what is up with Win? He is fully engaging in an affair with a murder suspect and doesn't seem to be investigating Tonkla at all. And I cannot let this pass without comment: why on earth did Win not put his pants back on during the long scene of him listening to Tonkla and Korn?! Was this really an appropriate situation to Winnie the Pooh it???

The flashback to Tonkla and Korn's beginning gave good context for why Tonkla thought he might be able to have more with Korn. I appreciated the details there: Korn was giving him money before they even had sex the first time and was lying to him about his intentions from the start, while Tonkla had zero experience when they met and didn't know how to recognize the signs of Korn's lies. Korn basically groomed this kid to be his sidepiece and has strung him along for years.

Tonkla definitely feels like a tragic character heading for a bad end, though perhaps he will also be saved eventually by the timeline shifts. In the timeline where Dome is dead and he's fucking Win, Tonkla is being incredibly reckless. I couldn't believe he just moved a new man into the home Korn pays for, he's gonna get caught.

I was grateful the show did not actually go all the way with Korn assaulting Tonkla, but it was clear he would have if Tonkla had not managed to distract him.

I continue to find the emotional tenor of Great and Tyme's scenes kinda weird. I don't understand why Great is so willing to betray Korn to help Tyme after just meeting him, I don't understand why Tyme revealed his face only to run away and then accused Great of being in on the conspiracy after already confirming he's not, and I don't understand why they were acting all blushy and awkward in that sex scene rather than leaning into the adrenaline high for a more sultry tone. They have been on one (1) date so the emotional investment is not really tracking for me for two experienced adults, but I can't tell if I am supposed to find this all weird and confusing or just go with it. It feels like the show just wants me to accept the shortcuts and buy into them as a serious romance, so okay I guess!

Speaking of betraying Korn, Great's plan was abysmal. He steals the information from Korn's phone (so considerate of him to spell out his criminal conspiracy including names and locations in one convenient text chain), tells Tyme everything without any knowledge of what his brother did, then walks right into an active hostage situation in his designer whites and shows his face to all Korn's goons. Korn is gonna know you did this, bro! Do you care?

It seems that Nan has a friend who was killed in a similar fashion to Tyme's parents, though I'm still curious how they connected and came up with this plan.

I still got nothing on this Lukwa connection. Why are she and Great the only two experiencing this phenomenon, and why did they see each other in this liminal space?

Also noting that there were several sex scenes this episode and no condoms or lube anywhere. I guess this show only depicts safe and realistic sex when they have a sponsor paying them.

[invisiblerambler]

GO AHEAD AND CRUCIFY ME IN THE SQUARE

I think this season might be my favorite. Or favorite is the wrong word, it lives most closely to my heart. Before last week I would have said that about S2 and I LOVE season 2 it feels like a warm hug to me and I can rewatch almost any episodes any day of the week and it feels like a comfort.

Especially the back half of the season. The conversation Syd has with her dad about this being the thing and the conversation with Carmy under the table. Those represent a better part of my nature when I'm mostly concerned about the state of my career and what I hope to accomplish.

Season 3 though, and I acknowledge it could be biased towards where I am in my life right now, but season three hit me between the eyes. It's forced me to confront things frankly I didn't want to, but I think that's it's success.

The honesty with which it portrays someone so deep in grief and trauma and the ambition that intersects both of those things.

I cannot begrudge anyone who finds it tedious, but unfortunately healing from trauma is tedious and boring and just as awful as it looks from the outside sometimes.

Living through a period of time where the thoughts in your head are consuming and distorting reality to the point they are with Carmy this season, I have never had words to describe that experience.

That is a gift this show has given me, a way to communicate things that I always felt my words fell short of reaching.

I wouldn't wish the level of trauma Carmy has experienced on anyone, but I wish this season garnered more empathy and less contempt.

I have frequently been described as high-functioning, resilient, and well-adjusted, but like all three of these seasons of The Bear have portrayed in stark relief, no amount of achievement can undo what you do not want to confront.

It's a cliche possibly, but the ways in which Carmy is portrayed as having it all together while not at all... A fine dining restaurant is the perfect place to not have shit together while outwardly pretending.

The messiness and utter raw emotion of it was painfully endearing. I didn't watch this season and see a monster, I saw someone desperately trying to figure out how he can feel better, and everyone around him failing to realize the depth of his suffering.

This season is so human. I saw someone say that this was a cooking show about grief and now it's a grief show about cooking, and a part of me wants to yell THE COOKING WAS A TRICK SUCKERS. IT WAS ABOUT GRIEF THE WHOLE TIME which feels painfully obvious, but based on the reactions, I think a lot of people were not expecting such a grief forward season.

I understand this show was a big swing and was not giving you almost any of what most people wanted or expected, but for me my favorite art is when I get the thing I least expected. And that was painfully true of this season. I didn't want one of my favorite and most painfully tender shows to present me with a season that laid bare a lot of things I had intended to hide away from, but I am better for it.

Even if you didn't like the season, I hope you came away with a sense of empathy for those who have experienced trauma as layered and ongoing as Carmy.

I have for a long time struggled with the idea that I was a perfect victim. I outwardly made the correct choices, and mostly acted in ways that turned my suffering inwards not outwards. I did not feel afforded the luxury in life of taking it out on other people.

Watching this season felt like a window into my id. The version of me that maintained a high level of function, but indulged in many of my worst impulses, not turning them inward and burying them down. The contrast of the way Syd reacts to the trauma of being left alone on friends and family and throughout the renovation vs Carmy feels like a near perfect study in the contrast of expectations for male and female trauma victims.

Syd keeps it all inside and punishes only herself, because to do anything else would sabotage the career she has worked so hard to build. It feels like an obvious statement to make, but feels so much less obvious when the only place it feels like the pain can go is inward.

The panic attack at the end of the season is the physical manifestation of her body no longer being able to contain all the pain she's turned inward. It has to go somewhere and there's no control over when that happens.

I'm not sure if I am simply drawing obvious conclusions everyone else has already come to, but I wanted to reflect on how human this show really is. It is beautiful and artistic and a work of art but it is also messy and human and realistic in ways that set my teeth on edge.

I understand if season 3 wasn't the full course meal you were expecting, but I hope you'll find compassion and empathy for those who felt it to be a slightly abrasive but ultimately satisfying Tuesday surprise.

[layla4567]

Awful things to you...

Pairing: TVA!Loki x Variant!fem!reader

Summary: You are a variant and the TVA pursues you tirelessly until they find you. Loki will be in charge of interrogating you and you are not sure if that is a reward or a punishment.

Warnings: Based on episode 2 of the second season, smut, slightly dom loki, good cop and bad cop dynamic (loki is bad cop obviously), reader being a lil brat, slightly choking(?, hair pulling, fingering with clothes, sex with clothes/hook up idk.

WC: 3.4k

You were sitting in the middle of the room in an uncomfortable, small seat that didn't even have a backrest. You looked at the ceiling bored while the warm, yellowish lights hit you squarely in the face. It seemed like you were in some kind of madhouse with a completely empty, windowless orange room with a solid oval iron door in front of you. Your clothing wasn't comfortable either, the baggy jumpsuit of a horrible beige color made you look like a prisoner (although technically you were) and that uncomfortable and annoying necklace they had put on you was starting to make you itch. You placed a finger between the skin of your neck and the material of the collar, trying in vain to push it away a little but it kept squeezing. You were just grumbling when two people entered the room. One was a man with gray hair and a mustache with an affable and good-natured appearance, his partner who was taller, had somewhat longer and black hair combed back. They both wore brown uniforms with matching ties.

"Well, well, well. Finally someone comes to visit me, I was getting bored"-you said cheekily

The gray-haired man came a little closer with an easy and graceful step towards you without stopping smiling.

"Well, sorry, we were a little busy."-He answered, laughing at his own joke.

You simply stared at him and grunted something, narrowing your eyes and nodding indifferently, the other tall man came closer to be next to his friends. An awkward silence settled between the three of you so the first man decided to break that silence.

"Oh but where are my manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves, I'm Agent Mobius and he's my partner Loki."-He said pointing to himself and then to his friend.

"And I suppose you already know my name"- you said with irritating irony.

"Yes, and that's why we're here."-said the one called Loki

"Oh so you know how to talk after all"-you pretended to be surprised

Loki sighed and was tempted to roll his eyes but he simply restrained himself, as Mobius knew that his companion was someone somewhat irascible, he continued speaking for him.

"Well there's no reason to be so rude, look we brought you here because you committed something on your sacred line that created a ramification"

You interrupted him, closing your eyes and waving a hand in front of him, fed up with his rant.

"I'm sorry but I'm not understanding you shit"

"In short, you did something you shouldn't have and we brought you here to keep you from causing more problems."

You turned laughing sarcastically to see Loki as you frowned.

"So now I'm locked up and watched by two kinds of babysitters?"

"I wouldn't say it like that-"

"This is stupid"- you exalted -"I want to leave, let me get out of here"-you demanded

You stood determined to push them out of your way and get out the door when Loki, who was considerably taller than you, stood in front of you, blocking the door and placing his hands on your shoulders, stopping you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

You sighed in annoyance, you weren't afraid of him or Mobius but you weren't stupid, they were two against one and you weren't sure if you would be able to take down Loki.

"Ugh fine, what do you want from me then?"

"We want to know what you did or rather why you did it"-Mobius said placing his hands behind his back.

"I thought you knew that, since you know me so well."-You rolled your eyes, putting your hands on your hips.

"We'd rather it come out of your mouth, ok?"

Loki narrowed his eyes and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye and up and down, contemplating whether to say what you know or not. After a few seconds of silence you clicked your tongue.

"Alright, how about I tell you a story, shall I? Once upon a time there was a pretty, intelligent girl who got tired of living in misery and, let's say, one day she innocently stole a diamond ring so she could sell it. Until two couple of weirdos came and captured her. The end"

"Did you like the story?"-You smiled sarcastically as you blinked your eyelashes innocently, making a kind of pout.

"I think you're a great storyteller."

Mobius always tried to make a joke with that smile on the verge of being a laugh, but you looked at him with the seriousness of a wax statue, somewhat uncomfortable, he stopped smiling and fell silent.

Loki took the lead

"The point is that now we need to know what you did with that ring, obviously you hid it because you didn't have it with you"

"Good deduction Sherlock, you surprise me."

Your poisonous sarcasm never left your throat and was beginning to make Loki impatient, who closed his eyes and took a deep breath. You were just having fun watching him lose his temper. Mobius, as a good-hearted man, tried to see things from all possible perspectives.

"Look y/n, I understand, okay? You must be feeling frustrated and confused, two agents take you from where you were and take you to a strange place and you don't understand what's happening! I really understand, but right now we have more urgent matters and we really need you to tell us where you hid it"

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes, trying to suppress a smile. Unfortunately, appealing to empathy is not going to make you give in. Your lips will be sealed

"I'm sorry…I think I forgot. Also, if you have more urgent matters then I would recommend that you take care of them first."

You smiled mischievously as Mobius lowered his head and sighed in defeat, Loki looked at him.

"Ok I give up, Loki it's your turn I'll go eat a pie"

Loki nodded and smiled. Now that he had his partner's approval, Loki felt freer to question you. Before Mobius left through the door, he approached Loki and whispered.

"Be gently"

After patting him on the back, he trotted off and walked out the door, looking happier. Now Loki was staring at you with hypnotizing green eyes, he had raised his chin a little and looked menacing.

"Good, how about we start on the right foot? I'm just warning you that I won't be as patient as my partner."

His guttural voice echoed in the room and its bounce off the walls reached your ears from different places, it seemed as if there was more than one Loki speaking to you, you shivered a little, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"I already told you that I don't remember where I left the ring."

"Oh that's a pity"

To your surprise, Loki was smiling and looking down at you with his hands clasped in front of him. There was something elegant yet intimidating about him. The way he moved or the way he spoke, he did it with Shakespearean grace. Slowly he began to approach you

"You know? Maybe you don't know who I am but I am known for being the god of mischief and for having done terrible, horrible things to many people."

With each thing he said, he took a step and got closer, until he was so close to you that you had to lean back slightly until you almost fell out of your chair and looked at him completely from below with your neck tense, his haughty and threatening presence looming upon you like the shadow of the grim reaper. His head covered the light coming from the ceiling spotlight, making an interesting contrast. Now seeing him against the light, the shadows sharpened Loki's face, framing his perfect nose and jaw, the light seemed to want to stay away from him as if he were someone who belonged to the darkness. You swallowed, intimidated.

"And believe me, I will have no mercy or fear in doing all those terrible and awful things…to you"

His voice was almost a whisper, so low and sounding grave and hoarse, it made you feel things, things that were better not to say. You didn't know why, but those threats didn't provoke fear in you, but rather the opposite. It was hot. Trying to sound casual you said

"Uhh scary man.."

Your voice was almost inaudible almost like a whisper but you managed to try to smile cheekily as some kind of flirt. Loki didn't seem fazed, instead he laughed airily, widening his Cheshire cat smile. And he began to walk around you like a vulture, making his shadow grow that enveloped you like a heavenly or demonic mantle.

"You have guts, I like that. You would have been a great ally in my troops"

Now Loki's voice was close to your ear in the back, whispering to you as he didn't stop spinning.

"But be careful what you say, a slip of the tongue and it could cost you dearly"

With everything he said, added to the fact that his breath tickled your ear from behind, he made you clench your legs and make your body rigid while you held your hands to the seat.

"What's wrong? Don't tell me the cat got your tongue."

Now his laugh was tickling the right side of your cheek as you could feel his green eyes nearby penetrating your face looking into your eyes and mouth.

"Come on, let me hear your sweet voice one more time, I want to know what you have to say."-Loki said, narrowing his eyes for a second and smiling mockingly, but his words sounded like a demand.

"I…I uhm.."

"Oh so the cat did get your tongue anyway"

You cursed inside, biting your lips and frowning, you were behaving stupidly, you couldn't even say a word. Suddenly Loki grabbed your hair, intertwining his fingers and pulling it back slightly, surprised you let out a moan as you placed a hand on his trying to remove it from your hair.

"We can do this all day darling, but at some point you're going to have to start talking, don't you think?"

Loki was still behind you to have easier access to your hair, and he never let go of it. His face was close to your right side and his lips brushed the skin of your ear as he spoke. Without warning his lips collided with the top of your jaw. He wasn't leaving kisses or anything like that but the simple touch of his soft lips running over and caressing your face made you melt.

"You're not going to say anything yet, huh? Bad for you."-He said with his open mouth resting on your cheek.

Loki pulled your hair a little more and placed wet kisses on your jaw, tracing the curve of it. Loki sighed and grunted, panting lightly as if this turned him on too. You bit your lips hard, suppressing your moans.

"You have beautiful, silky skin, but this ugly necklace bothers me greatly."

Loki took something out of his pocket and pressed a button that deactivated the collar and it fell to the ground with a thud. Satisfied now Loki began to kiss and suck on your neck moving your head to the side to have more access. Loki seemed like a thirsty vampire and you his poor victim. You began to thrash as you spread your legs, placing one hand between them to grab the edge of the small seat and unconsciously grinding your hips.

"L-loki..stop..please"-moaning brokenly

"Oh now do you want me to stop? And what is that movement in your hips?"-he mocked shamelessly

You closed your eyes in shame, feeling your cheeks heat up as you tried to stop your hips and dug your nails into the seat.

"That's simple, if you want me to stop then tell me what you know"

Loki growled in your ear as his tongue probed the skin of your neck near your jaw, licking you like ice cream. At this point you could no longer control your moans and you writhed, eager to touch him, to place your hands on his hair as he did with yours.

"Are you sure you want me to stop?"

"NOoo.."

You whimpered as a plea, opening your mouth. Loki assumed you would say that so he let your hair go and stood in front of you. He easily lifted you from the seat, when you stood up your thighs were trembling and you were panting. Loki sat on the small round seat and spread his legs, patting his lap inviting you to sit on it. You blushed and couldn't move a muscle so he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to wrap your legs around his waist, sitting facing you with your eyes fixed on his. Loki placed his large hand on your cheeks, squeezing them a little until he made you pout.

"You are being very unfair to me"

Loki's hand went down to your throat and he brought his mouth close to your ear.

"Will you still not tell me where you hid it?"

Loki looked at you and tightened his fingers a little around the grip on your neck, you shook your head.

"Good"-he smiled

Loki's hand left your neck and moved down your torso slowly and painfully, he seemed to take his time on purpose. With his delicate fingers he traced waves and spirals near your chest, from time to time his palm traveled to the side of your torso near the ribs and cupping your breasts, he even allowed himself to feel your erect nipples with his thumb and squeeze them mischievously as if they were buttons

"Loki!"-you gasped shakily.

"Do you like that, pet?"

You nodded without remorse, your eyes dilating in desire as a shiver ran down your spine. Loki continued to touch you elegantly, his two hands traveled to your waist and didn't stop there. They continued down to your lower belly and your mons, that's when you let out an involuntary moan as you retracted your hips.

Loki, delighting in the noises you made, narrowed his eyes, smiling sideways and tilting his head.

"What do you think now? Will you tell me where it is?"

You shook your head again, biting your lower lip trying to suppress your smile, you felt like a naughty girl about to be punished, it amused you. And Loki seemed to be amused too.

"Ok, don't say I didn't warn you."

Loki placed one hand on your lower back, slightly pulling you towards his body while his other hand was placed on your vagina, that touch made you gasp but more so when his middle and index fingers were placed at your entrance trying to push the fabric of your beige uniform. You couldn't help but squeal like a mouse.

"Oh.. delicious"

Loki rubbed your entrance with his fingers trying to uselessly put them somewhere, even so, his fingers felt your flesh and that gesture began to make you wet. Luckily the fabric of the clothing was light and did not loosen in that area so his fingers could touch your hungry and throbbing pussy without problems.

Again you pathetically began to move your hips hoping to feel more friction while your face buried in the crook of his neck drowning out your babbling and moaning. Loki's calmness was overwhelmingly annoying. You were desperate that he had control, rubbing your back with a strange tenderness contrasted with what his other hand was doing to your core, while he repeated to you to take a deep breath as if you were about to be vaccinated. How could he be so sweet and delicate and a horny pervert at the same time?

"You're doing well, but I'd like to know where the ring is, please."-he said mocking your desperate desires

You still had your face buried in the crook of his neck, muttering and gasping incomprehensible words.

"I'm sorry darling, I didn't hear you correctly, what did you say?"-Loki said as you pressed harder and deeper into your entrance.

"I don't know!"

You moaned sharply, quickly removing your face from his shoulder while you breathed with your mouth open, trying not to succumb to your carnal impulses but you couldn't grip his shoulders tightly as if your hands were pliers.

"What a naughty girl you are. Do you really like being punished? You'll be glad to know I'm not done yet."

Loki grabbed and dug his fingers into your mules, pulling you even closer to him and forcing you to bring your pelvis together and crash against his. You were wondering what he was going to do when suddenly he raised his hips and his bulge collided with your entrance. This drew another louder moan from you. Loki stood there watching your reaction in amusement.

"What a delight to hear you like that, pet"

Another bounce of his hip and you had to close your eyes and bite your lip to keep from letting out the growl that remained locked in your throat. You were practically sitting on his cock and you felt your core throbbing harder and harder until it started to hurt acutely, this was torture, but a pleasurable one. Loki moved his pelvis upward again, holding your hips and threw your head back, releasing a pitiful moan.

"I'll ask you one more time, don't exhaust my patience. WHERE.IS.IT?"

To emphasize his words, he collided his pelvis with yours again, this time more abruptly as he wrinkled his face. You dug your nails into his back and gritted your teeth, you could feel the tears gathering in your eyes.

"I.DON'T.KNOW"

Loki, on the other hand, seemed happy with that answer.

"Whatever you want"

Now without mercy, Loki ground his hips up and down, colliding with your entrance while your hands clung to the back of his neck and you pressed your chest against his. Your face was on his shoulder looking towards the door fearing that someone would come and find you in this embarrassing situation, you had no idea how much time had passed. Loki found his own rhythm going fast and without tiring, you accompanied him bouncing up and down accompanying his hips when he went up, they seemed like a harmonious wave. But they were far from harmony, you two were panting and you were a mess since he started touching you with his manly hands. your palms were sweating and your uniform was starting to stick to your body. When you thought that nothing could be worse, Loki began to kiss your neck again, this time leaving small bites, you closed your eyes tightly and gritted your teeth, feeling like you were losing your mind. Your hand finally gripped his hair tightly and you took revenge, being able to pull him back to which he grunted. This little Eden that had settled between the two of you and the room didn't seem like enough to you. It was just a false sense of pleasure, you really needed him inside you no matter how hard his cock was or how deep you sat on it, you couldn't take this anymore unless he really fucked you properly.

"Loki… I-I give up, I'll tell you... where it is…"-you said between moans and gasps.

"But we were having fun"

He laughed shamelessly as he stopped and let you get off his lap, when you did you could barely stand. You were breathing hard and your knees were bending about to hit the floor and you were all sweaty. Loki seemed a little better than you but you still noticed that the hair on his forehead was damp. Between broken words you kept your promise and gave him the information he wanted.

"See? It was not that difficult"-He said smiling as if nothing had happened while he caressed your cheek with a finger.

At that moment Mobius entered, smiling as always and with a can in one hand. Seeing them in such a pitiful state, his corners loosened a little and confusion appeared on his face.

"What did I miss?"

"Oh nothing, the interrogation was just fruitful"-Loki said while winking at you knowingly.

Mobius and Loki said goodbye to you while you continued standing trying to catch your breath and process what had happened. When the two of them closed the door behind you you could hear Mobius' somewhat muffled voice asking Loki: "Hey, why are you so sweaty? It looks like you ran a marathon."

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 27 Commentary

Again, a little hastily thrown together, but there's a bit of meta in there! Somewhere...If you squint...

Spoilers under the cut:

Lmao I did not make it five minutes into this episode without crying.

I'm not sure if this is the consensus but tbh I'm doubly glad for PSJ's character in the way her relationship with WX sort of throws off the conventional tropes WX's character toes the line of falling into and instead develops a narrative that is squarely their own. It's important to me how much she personally centers WX (and WX returns the favor, bringing PSJ back into the fold every time I worry she's being sidelined). The way she turns to WX in this opening scene, it's distinctive that PSJ grieves for her, alongside her own angst over their friends' apparent sacrifices. And I like the contrast of their gazes, her anger as Ying Long laughs at them, and WX's deadened stare.

In PSJ's presence, WX's words become more than a self-loathing lamentation (which, also, very understandable, if I were her I'd have snapped by this point too) or a monologue to a seemingly uncaring ancient audience; it's a burden shared between two people. And actually, it's a burden that PSJ grabs hold of from WX and forces her to share. That slap was crazy work tbh, the force of it, but ultimately how much more it looked like it hurt PSJ to deliver than WX to receive. And the way WX first looks back up at her after the slap is so painfully vulnerable and young. Something about the tilt of her head and the line of her brow. We don't get a direct shot of it in that specific moment (another thing kept private between characters!) but just from WX's profile, her gaze is so expressive in its hopelessness, its despondency. In the immediate aftermath of the sacrificial freezing, I would wager PSJ is the only thing WX looks at and can actually see.

And while I'm sure PSJ would grieve deeply on her own over losing ZYC and ZYZ, those tears, that sob she lets out, and the way she holds WX imo all very specifically seem to be her heart bleeding for the woman she loves. Such subtext, plus the preceding wordless and purely physical scene of the suicide attempt and slap, is to me altogether kind of uncommon for female characters in this style of drama to be afforded (at least the ones I've seen) so it does make a difference to me that we have that here. All in all, I love the rashness they are allowed, the respective impulsivity that we're offered because they have each other to ultimately fall against.

Gotta love how obviously PSJ is sick of Ying Long's shit. Also PSJ always the master of wasting zero time like thank you girl I do want to see what's in that box.

What do you mean ZYC has preemptively given WX back the gift of comfort after grief and loss, the assurance that it will pass? That he's kept the flowers all this time and has thought through his own potential demise with such clarity and has prepared for soothing the grief of those who will be left behind before he's even gone, precisely because he's been in that very position? I really truly can't with ZYC. I've hardly seen a modern male protagonist with a heart so full of this particular brand of intensely sensitive, complex, attentive, and careful love, and so freely given, too.

Also CDL (Wen Xiao's actress) coming up with new ways to cry is honestly impressive with how many crying scenes the show puts her through. Her sobbing as she explains the flowers to PSJ is so raw to me. I really think she excels at these extreme line deliveries.

Bingyi!!! Also Ying Long your completely unfettered adoration for Bingyi is showing through your gaze man stand upppp (but also I get it).

The barest hint of a smile in Bingyi's expression as he recounts Ying Long fighting alongside him. This man is in looooove.

I like that they put reverb in Ying Long's voice for the consistency with present-day Ying Long but I also kind of wish they did that for Bingyi's voice.

Ying Long I know you died for the sake of the world and all but the fact that you made Bingyi cry like that.....twice.......and he kept your soul and your dragon bone in his own clan's tomb............oh how he must have mourned you..................Bingyi I would treat you right just saying

Oh god the Bingyi clan's tender-heartedness. Literally one of my favorite traits in a fictional man thank youuuuuu.

That paralleling of scenes when ZYC comes back from the future and we get to see him and ZYZ as Ying Long and Bingyi staring at each other wowowoww the soulmatism is insane. There's so much affection in ZYC's voice and gaze.

Headcanon that ZYC sucks at math because there's five of you/?? wb YING LEI heLLO?

Yes!!! The triumphant OST music as they're brought back!! That shit hits so hard, I really gotta appreciate the soundtrack once again. And oof the first moment ZYZ is unfrozen and just looks at ZYC and then the fact that when ZYC fully turns around and they meet eyes the literal lyrics say, "I've found you" twice, once for each of them. what in the ROMANCE wow

The queer panning!!! On PSJ and ZYC my two belovedssss ouch. But yeah the camera could not be clearer on who's watching whom and pining for and yearning over whom. Maybe a pan to ZYC alone would be ambiguous but both PSJ and ZYC? Gay.

Ying Long dragon bone pulsing like a video game objective to get their attention during the emotional reunion makes me giggle ngl

Oh god the mpreg joke. I've come across this scene so many times by now but I literally cannot sit through it without biting my fist I cannot believe this made it to the final cut lmfaooooo

Also given how many transitions this drama is missing in terms of scene-to-scene flow and continuity, I really love that we get to watch them walk away and pick up the flowers and the box and PSJ her bow and arrows.

The way ZYC waits up for WX after her convo with Bai Yan. His concern for her re: Princess Longyu and the flashback to when they were young...her implication that he's one of the sources of light in her life and how we know she's the same for him...this is the platonic m/f bond of the year for me I think. He loves her so so much!!! And that's her mf bestie!!!!

I devolved into just reactions by the end there I'm sorry!! But I'm running out of time so that's a wrap!

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Goofing Off

Pairing: Jared Padalecki x Puerto Rican!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~900

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hola so i was watching the episode where Arthur is talking with the Winchester about the chupacabras so can i request a one shot where the reader is a actress a Jensen or Jared girlfriend who is Puerto Rican and is the one who is teaching David (Arthur actor) who to said Chupacabras?  With a lot of funny

Summary: You love pulling pranks and making people laugh. Whenever someone new comes onto the show, you make your mission to pull as many pranks as you can on them.

Square Filled: woke up married (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i didn't really go into the details of a reader that is puerto rican because i didn't want to get anything wrong, so i tried to keep it really vague here.

x

Out of all of the seasons you’ve worked on, your favorite has to be the current one: season twelve. One of the newest cast members, David Haydn-Jones, has been such an incredible addition to the show even if his character isn’t well-liked. Recently, David loves to have fun and joke around, and you just so happen to be one of the best pranksters on set.

Even before you met Jared, you were always looking to make your family smile and laugh with small pranks that didn’t do any harm to anyone. Jared happened to like that about you when you started dating, and it only got worse the more time went on.

The very first prank you ever pulled on Jared was putting a bunch of Ken Dolls on your car and calling him to tell him that there were men on your car and you were scared. He came out with a towel on his head like how a woman would wrap her hair after a shower and your bathrobe on. It was so funny you almost peed your pants.

The longer you two dated, the more he got into your pranks. Now, he almost expects them whenever he comes home from a long day of filming or doing a convention. Then, you two got married, and the first thing you did when you woke up as a married woman was pull a prank on him.

His life would never be boring from that on, and would always be filled with laughter and joy.

He got you a part on Supernatural for a few years now which you have loved doing. Being around Jensen, Jared, and Misha have been nothing short of amazing. Your pranks actually doubled in size when you teamed up with Jensen to take on Jared or Misha.

The newest person to suffer your wrath is David who plays Arthur Ketch on the show. He is more of a serious actor than the ones you usually work with but after a while, he got used to your pranks and lightened up a lot more.

Jensen and Jared are finishing up a scene while you and David are off to the side going over your plan. The plan is that you told David you two were going to get Jensen and Jared when in reality, you were turning the tables so that Jensen and Jared are going to get David.

“I got it, I got it,” he nods.

“Okay,” you smile.

David walks on set when he is needed, and the scene with Ketch, Sam, and Dean is ready to be put into motion.

Sam and Dean are seated in the Bunker’s library and Sam calls Mick over the phone to which Ketch answers.

“Hello, Winchester,” David says in his posh Ketch accent.

“Ketch? Where’s Mick?” Dean asks.

“He didn’t tell you? He flew back to London last night after all the unpleasantness with Dagon. Well, Mick has a lot to answer for. For the time being, you will report to me.”

“Seriously?” Dean rolls his eyes.

“I don’t like it any more than you do. I’d much rather be with your mother… hunting… for Chupacabras in Texas.”

It’s the way he said Chupacabras that has everyone confused. You know how to say it very well since you have the accent for it, but you told David how to say it the American way which Jensen and Jared picked up on easily.

“A what, Ketch?” Jared asks, still in character.

“Chupacabra.”

“What was that?”

“Chupacabra,” Jensen says in a deep voice while rolling his R’s.

Jared snickers but tries to stay in character. He takes out his phone and makes Google pronounce the word, and the entire crew starts laughing.

“Chupacabra,” Jensen says again.

“Chupacabra,” Jensen tries again, rolling his R’s.

“Chupacabra,” David says in the same accent as before.

Jensen looks at the phone weirdly as if David is right there in front of him.

“He doesn’t know how to say Chupacabra,” Jared says.

Jared plays the Google pronunciation of the word again loudly.

“Chupacabra,” David says.

“It’s like a brrra,” Jensen rolls his R’s. “Then Chupa. So it’s like Chupa, chupa, chupa--”

“Chupacabra,” David says over the phone in the same tone he’s been in since the scene started.

He’s trying so hard not to break character even though Jensen and Jared have already done so. You’re going to pee your pants from laughing so hard.

“Chupacabra,” Jensen rolls his R’s with a bit of an accent.

At this point, Jensen and Jared start talking gibberish and rolling their R’s and just having a good time while David is trying to stay in character. You can see him scrunch his nose up as if it itches, but that’s a ploy to hide the smile trying to break through.

“Chupacabra,” Davis says, causing Jared and Jensen to break out in giggles. “I don’t like it any more than you do but for now, I’m what you’ve got. So, Wisconsin…”

David can hear everyone laughing through the phone as he tries so hard to stay in character.

“Ketch? What was that?” Jared giggles. “He doesn’t know how to say Chupacabra.”

David hangs up the phone just as the director calls, “CUT!” David breaks out into laughter and looks right at you who can’t hold it in anymore.

“I’m not trusting you ever again!”

God, you love working on this show.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[starkdirewolflove]

Latest episode of X-Men ‘97, wow.

Omg there was so much going on in that episode can’t believe it was only 36 minutes.

Love square of Jean, Scott. Madelyne and Logan. Love triangle of Magneto, Rogue and Gambit, relationship drama galore.

I find it really amusing that Emma Frost has a front row seat to the drama with Jean, Madelyne and Scott like her own personal telenovela. Love that Madelyne has been forging her own path and becoming a part of the council of Genosha.

There’s a reporter doing a documentary about the X-Men and Xavier’s school. I’m a bit confused about Roberto being there. When we first meet him he’s a young rich party boy, heir to a wealthy Brazilian family that can just take a private jet wherever he wants to go and is ashamed and afraid of people, particularly his mother learning he’s a mutant so he leaves after episode one. Then he’s just always at the mansion hanging around with Jubilee and he’s in this documentary about a mutant school. Is he out to his family as a mutant or does he not care who knows anymore? I feel like this should’ve been addressed at some point.

Things are still really rocky with Scott and Jean, I can understand why he blew up at the reporter, she was being really invasive about his personal life and calling him a liar about having a son. And who was that doctor to make any statement about the birth? The bigot refused medical help to a woman in labour. But then he goes and has his psychic affair with Madelyne, dick move. And he’s been doing this since she left while shutting Jean out then turns everything around on her. Like Jean has been traumatised by what Sinister did to her. She doesn’t know how long he had her abducted, what he did while she was his prisoner, her mind is all messed up and on top of that her husband had a baby with her clone who had completely stolen her life (not Madelyne’s fault, this was 100% Sinister’s evil plan) and the only one who is actually supportive and understanding of her pain is Logan, no wonder she kissed him. Good on Logan for not trying to make the kiss into a big deal, Jean and Scott are married and he respects that even though he’s in love with her. The betrayal from Scott was even worse for Jean because their psychic connection has always been sacred between the two of them and her anchor when the Phoenix was overwhelming her and then he disregards all that because he’s in love with Madelyne too supposedly. Like I get their shared grief over having to give up their baby, it doesn’t give him a free pass to cheat on his wife.

Gambit was such a gentleman throughout the whole Rogue and Magento stuff, even though it was breaking his heart to see her with another man he respected her choice, didn’t try to blame or shame her about it and said they can be friends still. Rogue had a really rough time this episode. From the start of this season I felt uncomfortable with this Rogue and Magento pairing but when she explained their history to Gambit it was even worse because it just sounded like grooming and made Magento a creepy sexual predator. So Rogue ran away from home as a teenager after the trauma of putting the first boy she kissed in a coma and being rejected by her dad, gets taken in by Mystique who gets her to use her powers as part of her mutant terrorist group then brings this vulnerable teenage girl who is afraid to touch anyone to a middle aged man to help her control her powers and instead of doing that he fills her head with his ideologies and because he can touch her without it hurting either of them they become lovers. 🤢🤮 so creepy. Magento leverages the council of Genosha that he will only lead them if he can take Rogue as his “Queen” or co leader to the public, so she feels backed into a corner after seeing how amazing things on Genosha were for mutants now. Then after that amazing dance scene she realises that Gambit is the man she truly loves and what they have is more meaningful and goes beyond being able to touch and she chooses her swamp rat only to lose them both by the end of the episode.

The attack on Genosha was brutal but it was so amazingly done. Cable traveling back through time to try and warn everyone about the attack even though it goes against the rules of time travel, seeing Madelyn for a moment, her recognising him as her son by his eyes and him calling her “mom” as he got pulled back through time. The music, the chaos and panic you could literally feel through the screen, Magneto’s holocaust flashbacks, the Morlocks being trapped and thinking no one was coming to save them, Nightcrawler almost dying saving Rogue and Magneto.

Rogue and Gambit were the ultimate power couple fighting their way to the Morlocks, a better dance than the one she had with Magneto. Magneto saving Rogue and Gambit while he tried to shelter the Morlocks from the sentinel blast, so tragic. Then Gambit saves Rogue from getting herself killed by attacking the sentinel in a rage, takes it on by himself to save everyone and destroys it but sacrificing his own life in the process 😭.

The tragedy is they foreshadowed this in the first episode when Jean/Madelyne went into Trask’s mind and then both Jean and Madelyne got a psychic premonition of the attack just before it happened but were unable to do anything to stop it.

When the dust settles at the end you see the X-Men witness the aftermath of the attack, the few surviving mutants gather around the crater where Rogue is cradling Remy’s body. She’s finally able to touch him but only because he’s dead. “Sugah. I can’t feel you.” 💔

That killed me at the end, was so shocked that they killed Magneto and Gambit within minutes of each other. I know they probably won’t be dead forever but fuck that was brutal.

I know next week’s episode is gonna be Storm centric so we’ll probably have to wait 2 weeks to see what happens with the rest of the X-Men and hopefully by then Storm is ready to rejoin the team. There was a moment in the Genosha attack where Val Cooper is helping evacuate mutants to the gardens and she looks back at the sentinels and there’s this look in her eye that made me wonder is she Val Cooper or Mystique in disguise? We haven’t seen Mystique in the show so far but what if she’s been there all along? Maybe she was afraid of being exposed as an imposter by the sentinels because they’d know she’s not human.

[becauseimanicequeen]

Gustav Klimt's The Kiss in My Stand-In

I received an ask a couple of days ago about what Gustav Klimt's The Kiss painting might mean in My Stand-In (which is something I've been thinking about ever since I briefly reacted to it all those episodes ago) and decided to answer that question in a separate post. So, here I am.

I will first describe the painting (since it isn't that visible in the images I have from My Stand-In) and then dive into the stories behind the possible sources of inspiration for the painting before I get to the significance it might have to the series.

The painting depicts a man and a woman who are tightly embracing each other. The man has one hand around the back of her head while the other is on her cheek. She has one arm around his neck and the other hand resting on the one that's cradling her face. Her eyes are closed and the man is kissing her on the cheek. They're kneeling on a bed of colorful flowers (well, at least we can see that the woman is kneeling).

The man has an ivy wreath on his head while the woman has flowers in her hair and around her neck. They're both wearing yellow/gold garments. The man's garment is decorated with rectangular shapes in black, white, and silver. The woman's garment is decorated with circular floral patterns, curvy lines, and some small squares and rectangles. The patterns on the woman's garment include red, green, and blue hues. The woman also has golden ivy hanging from her ankles.

Now that I've gone through that, let's look at the possible meaning of The Kiss.

I've never heard of this before, but just like Anon wrote in the ask that made me write this post, The Kiss seems to have been connected to Orpheus and Eurydice (at least according to Wikipedia, but take that with a grain of salt because there are no official sources to support this) and showing the moment right before he loses his love.

To summarize the story of Orpheus and Eurydice: They were married, Eurydice died due to a snakebite, and Orpheus went into the underworld to get her back. Orpheus was told to not look back at Eurydice as they walked out of the underworld. He couldn't hear her footsteps behind him, looked back (either out of his own longing or thinking he'd been fooled by the gods, I've heard of both versions), and she was sent back to the underworld forever. This led Orpheus to swear off women until the end of his life (which includes a couple of different endings, one of them being that he's ripped to pieces, lol).

I don't know if art historians have actually made this connection, but (in my opinion) it could make sense. Orpheus couldn't hear Eurydice's footsteps because it was her soul/spirit that walked behind him. She wouldn't get her body back until she came out into the light. And in the painting, the woman actually looks like she's translucent (just like it says on Wikipedia). But also, the meadow she's kneeling on ends abruptly behind her feet, which could indicate a way to the underworld, and the golden ivy around her ankles might be keeping her "chained" there.

I'll get into what this might mean in My Stand-In in a moment because I have another connection to write about first. And that's the story of Apollo and Daphne, which an art historian/author argued is the case.

To summarize the story of Apollo and Daphne: Daphne was more interested in hunting and exploring forests than getting married and having kids (which her father initially wanted for her). So, when Apollo fell in love with her and started pursuing her, she fled. She eventually reached the water where her father resided and cried out to him to destroy her beauty. That's when she turned into a laurel. Even as a tree, Apollo vowed to honor her forever.

If The Kiss was inspired by this story, it would be a depiction of the moment Apollo kissed Daphne, right before she turns into a tree. However, there are no official sources to support whether this story was Klimt's inspiration or not.

But let's say that both versions are valid. How does that relate to My Stand-In?

Both myths are about transformation in some way. Orpheus and Eurydice's myth is about death and rebirth (although it doesn't get as far as an actual rebirth), while Apollo and Daphne's story is about a metamorphosis.

If we look at Orpheus and Eurydice's story in particular, the big strokes are similar to Ming and Joe's. They were in a situationship/relationship, Joe died, and Ming has been searching for Joe ever since.

If we look at Apollo and Daphne's story, certain things are similar to Joe and Ming's. First of all, there is the transformation where Daphne turns into a laurel and Joe transmigrates to another body.

Second, considering what we've seen in the trailer for the series, I'm sure Ming will chase Joe as much as he possibly can now that he's (almost) sure Joe 2.0 is "his" Joe, which feels similar to Apollo chasing after Daphne. I also feel like Joe will continue to refuse Ming for as long as he possibly can, which is similar to Daphne running from Apollo and rejecting his advancements.

With that said, including The Kiss in Joe's home decor was a great choice (besides fitting with his color scheme).

But, what might The Kiss mean going forward? Let me speculate for a moment.

Considering the myths and how Eurydice didn't come back to life while Daphne didn't change back to a human being (even if she had wanted to), I feel like that's telling of Joe's fate in My Stand-In. I don't think he will get back into his former body because there is no turning back. Just like with Eurydice and Daphne.

I would be really surprised if the series chooses to transmigrate Joe back into his own body because I don't see this story having a "fairytale" ending. That's not the vibe I'm getting. A happy ending (which is possible) is another thing entirely, btw.

Instead, I feel like we will get Ming chasing Joe (like Apollo chased Daphne), just like I mentioned above, and Ming trying to honor Joe as much as he can (like Orpheus swore off women after losing Eurydice or Apollo vowed to honor the laurel tree).

This also falls in line with the idea I've personally had about this series for a few weeks now; that one of its major themes is about second chances. Joe got a second chance at life, Ming is getting his second chance with Joe and to not fuck it up this time, Joe is getting a second chance at having a family (Joe 2.0's mom), etc.

But, I could be wrong about all my speculations. And I'm excited to find out how wrong I am, lol.

Anyway...

The Kiss is said to weave together themes of love and the cycle of life and death. That seems very fitting for the series. And, as an artist, I love that art is so prominent in (particularly) Joe's home.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 2x01 Capital R Rake (Part 2)

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Penelope and Eloise

Before I delve into this deliciously layered Penelope and Eloise conversation - in the family scene a couple scenes previously, Colin's absence in this episode is explained in that he decided to go check out Albania while he was hanging out around the Mediterranean, because why not. And of course - Eloise brings up the fact that he can do that because he's a dude and women aren't allowed to do those things (which is kind of sucky - but also is additional commentary on Eloise's arc for the season).

I kind of wonder - was there a reason Colin was written out of episode one? Too many things going on? I don't think Luke Newton had a scheduling conflict. Hmmm.

Alright, so we get Eloise and Penelope walking around the square. First topic of discussion -- Eloise complaining that Daphne's advice was a list of top ten ways on how to entrap a man. (!!!) That's really wild. Do we think Daphne sent that as a joke? Or was Eloise exaggerating? Either way, it's hilarious. Penelope thinks so too -- girl is in a great mood as she walks with her bff. Eloise's indignation is played for great comedic effect here. (And A+ job from Claudia Jessie as she is fantastic at giving Eloise some great comedic beats.)

Penelope stops to pick up a quill -- and Eloise notes that she goes through them pretty quickly. It's a nod to her secret life as LW, and they're setting up early that Eloise's story is going to come crashing into Penelope's - and the LW stuff.

Of course, Penelope avoids the conversation by saying she's working on her correspondence. Eloise brings up the Featherington heir (which we haven't learned anything about yet), and Penelope admits (because she feels safe, yet still hesitant with Eloise) that she's been writing to Colin. But I love the turn of phrase she uses -- she says :: Colin has been keeping me informed. Putting acknowledgement that it's he who has been writing to her. Because, not only would it be improper for her to be writing a male who is not in her family, but... it lets us know that Colin is willfully writing to Penelope. And... it's also a way to not tip off Eloise of her feelings towards him. It's such a great, key detail!

The other thing to note is Eloise's reaction. She does not care about Colin's travels -- and mentions that he rambles on and on. This is also a key note for Colin's story -- when he gets back, he's going to try to connect with anyone, really, about his experiences. His family members are kind of all caught up in their own lives, and it's not that they don't care, but it's that life moves on without him. A lot of his arc this season will be trying to figure out what his role in life is.

Anyway, Penelope remarks that Colin is no Lady Whistledown, which is... a fascinating response. I mean, it's partly to throw Eloise off the fact that writing to Colin is one of the highlights of her life at the moment. But it's also an ego thing -- as she's in the prime of the Lady Whistledown madness, and is loving the attention she's getting from it.

And, I love how Eloise responds to that -- he at least gives Colin some credit in that he's gone out to see the world, something that Lady Whistledown hasn't done. And ooh, the look on Penelope's face. She's like, whoa, hold up, what??

She throws back that Eloise used to revere LW (which is what Penelope wants to hear more about) and reminds her that LW interrupted (saved her from) her debut. Penelope is clearly proud of pulling that off -- but Eloise kind of shrugs it off. She was grateful for the interruption, but Eloise is less than impressed with the column.

Penelope, again, wanting to hear more positive feedback, and reeling from Eloise seeming indifferent at best, mentions how good of a writer LW is. Eloise is like, sure, she can use words -- but is she saying anything worthwhile with them? Penelope doesn't really know what to say to this. Eloise then continues on, claiming that she's been reading articles with more substance, and Penelope's face (lol)... She's been so proud of her work, but Eloise all but dismissing it has her really rethinking everything.

Eloise goes on to say that she's discovered the writing of Mary Wollstonecraft -- and for those of you who don't know (and, you know what, I didn't - I googled this lady), Wollstonecraft was a late 18th century philosopher and feminist, and.... get this, mother of Mary Shelley (author of Frankenstein). Fascinating, right?

Anyway - her writings detail female empowerment, and would definitely appeal to someone like Eloise. (And, I kind of wonder what Penelope think if she weren't jealous of Eloise's attention be taken elsewhere. Her 'haughty' comment reeks of insecurity.)

Eloise goes on to say that LW does have some power, and if instead of writing about balls and gossip, and instead wrote more about female empowerment, than she may have some kind of pull to make some change in the world. And Penelope does seem to consider it - at least a little.

But then Eloise puts in a stinger -- and completely (unknowingly) calls out the fact that LW isn't a participant in society, hence she's able to write what she can. We don't really get to see Penelope's reaction -- other than a kind of changing of the subject, but Eloise is right on the nose. And it gives Penelope a lot to think about.

Family Troubles

The next scene we get is the Featheringtons getting ready for the ball. And... a couple of things to note right off the bat. First of all, that settee is huge! And much nicer looking than the one that Pen's going to share with Colin (probably sturdier, too, lol). Secondly, I tried to zoom in and figure out what book she's reading, and I couldn't figure it out -- if anyone can get a clearer zoom in, please let me know! I'd love to know what she's reading. Also love that yet again she's got a book in her hand as the insanity goes on around her.

We learn in this scene that the Featheringtons are strapping for cash. All the servants have left, and Mrs. Varley is left doing pretty much everything, including cooking potatoes for the 100th time. (idk why they're complaining - potatoes are amazing.)

Penelope seems to be the only one rather concerned, but Portia downplays it the best she can. I have to give Portia some credit for trying to play it cool the best she can. Because, financially, they're in a really rough spot, and she knows the new Lord Featherington isn't going to be much help.

Portia tries to calm them, though, by stating as soon as the new Lord Featherington arrives they'll be fine.

Prudence is having a hissy fit (her line about changing the chamber pots is pretty funny though) and you see her lash out at Penelope -- literally hitting her feet to move Pen out of the way so that she can sit down. And I can only imagine that this kind of thing is something that's probably happened a lot with her sisters. She probably has gotten pushed around a lot by them, and Penelope just kind of takes it, and moves out of her sister's way.

Portia, though, eventually succumbs to her melodramatic tendencies, and lets them know that the new Lord Featherington is cruel and delighting in their misfortune, to the horror of her daughters (Penelope particularly looks alarmed). Portia continues - giving some backstory, that he cast his son to America because he was upset, and who knows where they'll send them once he gets there.

Portia then goes on to worry that they'll be sent out to Cornwall (which seems to be the far reaches of England). I kind of love Prudence's freak out over it. Phillippa chimes in that they can all visit her and Finch, but Penelope points out that if there's no money for servants, food, or dresses -- than Phillippa isn't getting a wedding.

And of course, this gets Phillippa to freak out -- cause she really does love Albion Finch. (Love story of the ages :D )

Portia then continues her (terrible) attempt at trying to calm them down again, claiming that all of them need to be betrothed by the time the heir arrives, or else they'll be on the streets. Prudence is like - yeah, sure, fine.

Penelope just sits there in horror. Like, the only dude she can stomach getting married to is out of the country at the moment, wtf is she (and her family) going to do.

As an aside, it is interesting -- that she already has LW money coming in. But she basically can't use it for fear of giving herself away. How crazy, to have a solution, but not be able to do anything about it.

And... that's where I'm going to stop for today! This episode has so much Penelope in it! It's fantastic! (I am missing Colin, though.)

[emmasue88]

So ya’ll know Jax from the amazing digital circus? My gf hates him, and I love him, which is probably partially why she hates him, but that’s besides the point. I’m gonna rant about him and why I think he’s such a violent jerk.

In episode 2 specifically, I think Jax is just turning to violence and anything adrenaline inducing to escape having to think, because if there’s constantly conflict, then there’s no time in which he can be left alone with his own mind. The thought that he’s just super self absorbed and cares about his own well being doesn’t really sit right because of multiple things. He’s gotta be smarter than he lets on with his ability to manipulate others and enter places he shouldn’t be allowed to with keys he shouldn’t even have, so that means he should know full well that being cocky when talking to huge scary alien creatures (like the gloinks queen in the pilot) or making random deals with unhinged fudge monsters (that were very much willing to eat him had Ragatha not spoken up) is very much just a death wish, but he does it anyways. Now, it may be true that you can’t really die in the digital circus, but I’m pretty sure you can still feel pain, so why was bro still not even a little scared of being eaten alive? Simple. Because he doesn’t think anything matters so he doesn’t give a frick about his own wellbeing, or about anything. So why does he still run from danger then? Because even if he thinks he doesn’t give a frick, or wishes he doesn’t, he’s still scared and he still cares, because he’s still human. And he probably hates that, probably thinks it’s stupid to care or still feel scared even though he knows everything is all meaningless. But I’m sure he also knows that even if it’s stupid, he can’t change the fact he’s got human emotions. Like someone that’s suicidal but afraid of death. Even though he knows it doesn’t make sense to care and he doesn’t want to care, he does, and he hates it. A nihilist at mind but not at heart.

To cope with the fact that everything is meaningless yet he still can’t let go, he does anything and everything to stay entertained and not think about it, even if it’s at other’s expenses, which in turn makes him a jerk, so to cope with the guilt that comes with the fact he’s a jerk, he reminds himself that everything is meaningless anyways so it doesn’t matter that he’s a jerk, but he still feels awful and can’t let go of it despite knowing everything is meaningless, which brings us back to square one, to cope with the fact that everything is meaningless yet he still can’t let go, he does anything and everything to stay entertained and not think about it. It’s a cycle that feeds itself.

In other words, my man is a special type of self destructive, he’s has a, or rather he THINKS he’s has a “all life is worthless and meaningless, so just have fun because otherwise there’s no point in living at all” type attitude that I used to know way too well. It’s both self absorbed and self destructive. He’s living off of nothing but thrill, so he’ll do anything to chase that thrill, because without it, why even exist? Without it, there’s nothing to distract him from how pathetic he is. And any distraction is better than having to deal with that, even if it’s a violent distraction.

(Side note, his extra enthusiasm for violence in episode two could also be partially so he didn’t have to think about the fact he was actually upset Kaufmo was gone, which would explain the slight flash of pain when his funeral was brought up, because it’s exactly what Jax was trying to run from and forget about completely.)

I think his situation is just the louder and more chaotic you are, the harder it becomes for you to think about the situation you’re in, and the more time you spend planning evil things, the less time you have to spend planning your own doom or something (Plus bonus points if you already think you’re awful to begin with so you just keep being more awful since you believe there’s no chance of redemption anyways or if you’re a guilty sadist.) So why is he such an impulsive jerk? Because he doesn’t like to think. And when he does think, he’s busy thinking about schemes and planning how to make things more chaotic and distracting so he doesn’t have to think about life, not thinking about other people’s feelings. I can’t blame him tbh, thinking is hard lol (/hj)

Jax is a wonderful mix of wannabe nihilist, hopelessness, and “I feel like I’m the worst so I always act like I’m the best”. I love him.

Either that or he’s just a narcissist with a death wish. In which I still love him because I’m just that messed up.

Edit: I definitely over analyzed this. So I’m gonna go and over analyze it even further *edits and adds in like 5 more paragraphs*

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Ten: Co-Stars With Chemistry @rowaelinscourt

Find Part One Here Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Thanks for all the kind words on part one! I hope part two lives up to your expectations! Part three, and the conclusion, will come later this month. Bonus points if you spot the "against the tide" reference ;)

Warnings: None, right around 4k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

The Words We Share-Part Two

<<Welcome to Terrasen!  I’m your host Aelin Galathynius and this week we’ve got a special episode coming your way.  We’ll be live with none other than Rowan Whitethorn to discuss his new book.  Dead Man’s Game is his first step into fantasy and a twisted tale of pirates, curses, and of course a dive into Scottish history.  Join us next week in a special LIVE episode.  Until next time, readers.>>

It wasn’t the worst promotional Aelin had ever done in her life.  But it also wasn’t the best.  She’d written and scrapped over a dozen and so far, that was the one that hadn’t sucked the most.  Somehow.

Aelin stared at the blinking square on her computer that asked if she wanted to publish the message or not.  Technically she could still turn down the interview.  She could tell Dorian off and ignore Whitethorn for the rest of his existence and move on with her life.  And then she’d probably lose her job and end up homeless.

Wincing, she clicked the button and immediately spun away from her computer.

Her office, big and bright and vibrant, had a large window that overlooked downtown.  In the distance the mountains were shrouded in a thick layer of clouds, not surprising but a little disappointing.  She much preferred her summer months warm and clear.  Still, she let herself admire the view and took a moment to appreciate the stillness of the day.

Until her gaze landed on her phone.

There were a handful of messages from Sam that she’d left unread.  He’d tried calling her after she’d returned home, but she didn’t pick up.  Rowan was still on her mind.  Rowan and his stupid accent and his stupidly large hands.  How was it that someone she hated (and who hated her in return) could treat her to the best date she’d been on in months?  Years?

She didn’t know.  And she didn’t want to call Elide to talk to her about it because Elide was a meddlesome little minx.

Now as Aelin stared at her phone, she found herself wondering if there was anything Sam could say that would have her forgive him.

Whoever stood you up is an idiot, Rowan had said.

And…maybe he was right.

A knock at the door was the only thing that snagged her attention.  She looked over to see Dorian leaning against her doorway.

“Aelin,” he greeted.  He had his usual grin in place, black hair in an easy disarray.  His blue eyes shone with too much placating humor.

“I hate you.”  It wasn’t an exaggeration either.  He was really good at being annoying.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m doing you a favor,” Dorian insisted.  He didn’t look the least bit apologetic. “I guarantee this’ll get your viewership up.”

“Not even Chaol is this mean,” Aelin said.  She slumped down in her seat, tilting her head back against the chair rest.

“You only like him because he brings in chocolate cake,” Dorian said.

“Yeah and he isn’t an ass like you.” Aelin continued glaring at her boss and friend, picking up her pen to scratch at the pad of paper beside her desk, just for something to do.

“Aelin, Rowan’s our best-selling author, not to mention the demand of getting more events from him like this.” Dorian picked an invisible piece of lint from his shirt and shrugged. “Hate him all you want, but our readers and your listeners have been begging for this.”

Aelin had seen requests forms on their website, she’d been to plenty of conventions and heard the reviews—she knew that Dorian was right.  But…

“I like Whitethorn even less than you,” Aelin said.  Though, the words sounded hollow in her own ears.

Dorian didn’t seem to notice. “Yeah, yeah.  I’ll take you out to dinner to make up.”

Aelin had had enough of men propositioning her for dinner.  She waved Dorian off.

“Go be the big CEO man, I’ve gotta write this script and get the general outline to Whitethorn,” she said.

Dorian left with a wave of his hand.

Aelin rolled her eyes and pulled up a new document on her computer.  A small notification bar in the corner of the screen indicated views on the recent upload.  In the span of three minutes there were already over two hundred views and the number was rapidly rising.

She glanced at the large stack of paper still sitting in the corner of her desk.  She’d gotten it just last week—the tell-tale mysterious new novel Rowan had written.  Even Dorian said it was remarkable.  Aelin had yet to view it since it was no longer a part of her job description to edit and critique manuscripts.  But since she’d be interviewing Rowan, she got early access to the novel.

In truth, she’d enjoyed Rowan’s work.  There was always something about it, even if she did mark up every page with as much red as she could manage.  But, really?  Most of the comments weren’t negative.  Often, she even found herself praising the way a sentence worked or the callbacks he gave to earlier chapters. 

Now, having the manuscript before her, Aelin couldn’t help but feel a little excited at having the book before her.

At least this would be enough of a distraction for her.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set and shadows crawled across the walls of her office, that Aelin finally looked up from the manuscript.

And to her phone that lit up with another message.

Cursing, Aelin opened the chat with Sam.

>>Sam: you can’t keep ignoring me.

<<Aelin: I told you I needed time.

>>Sam: It was one night. we’ll have dozens more.

Aelin scoffed at the surety in his words.  Shaking her head Aelin sent one last message.

<<Aelin: I’m done.  This is over.  I can’t keep playing games and being a placeholder.

>>Sam: We’ll talk in the morning.

He could try calling her, but would find it difficult considering she was blocking his number that very moment.

It felt good to set that boundary, to tell him no, to feel like she was in control. 

In all honesty, she was still caught up on spending time with Rowan Whitethorn and not tossing her wine on him.  He’d been a gentleman, an ass, but respectful all the same.  She would have to thank him for helping her that night despite how much she didn’t want to.  He didn’t need to step in and give her an excuse to use against Kaltain.  And he certainly didn’t need to pay for dinner and make sure she got into a cab safely.  He hadn’t needed to do any of it and she hadn’t expected him to.  But he had.

She wanted to be irritated at him for it.  She wasn’t a damsel in distress for him to take care of or who needed help to begin with.  She would have dealt with Kaltain on her own just fine.  

Still, it was nice to have someone looking out for her.

Shaking her head, Aelin flipped through the manuscript to the first page once again.

She had a dream, once, years ago, where she would stand out on a rocky shoreline and stare into the ocean as she wondered just how far she could sail before the world swallowed her whole.

…

Between screaming Fall Out Boy lyrics, two impromptu dance parties, and chugging half an energy drink in the parking garage of the publishing building—Aelin finally found herself ready to face the inevitability of the day.

“It’s going to be fine,” she told herself one more time as she fixed her lipstick in the rearview mirror. “Everything is going to be fine.”

It had been her mantra that she prepared for the live podcast she would be filming that day.  For the first time in a very long time, Aelin found herself nervous for the day.  And she did not get nervous.  No, Aelin prided herself on being confident, capable, and being able to keep her head on straight.

That was before she’d read Rowan’s book, though.  

She got out of her car, energy drink and manuscript in hand, and headed up to her office to prepare for the interview.

She hadn’t had any issue in reading Rowan's book.  In fact, she’d stayed up the entire night just to finish it.  Everything about the book had captured her attention.  From the magic to the world building to the romance—it had all been just what she loved most in a book.  Even if the book wasn’t as spicy as Aelin preferred to get in her books, there had been something real about the way Rowan chose the write this novel.

And now she’d have to tell him.

She was not looking forward to it if she were being honest.  For as much as she loved gushing about novels and diving into different worlds and characters…she’d never done so about one of Rowan’s books. And this book was so different from his other books.

Aelin felt far too jittery as she waited for the elevator.  The usual crowds all milled about her, all too concerned with their own issues to give her much credence.  She didn’t know if that was better or worse.  

She hadn’t felt this way about an interview in ages.  Only her first real podcast session had been as bad and that was only because she’d gone into in on no sleep and four shots of espresso.  

The elevator slowly lumbered up to the proper floor while Aelin paced the small space.  Thankfully no one else was in here with her.  That would have just been icing on the cake.  

“It’s going to be a great day and everything is going to be fine,” she told herself as the doors slid open to the proper floor.  Dorian of course was standing right there, leaning against the far wall.

His black hair was styled perfectly out of his face, his smirk ever present. He gave one last twist to the new wedding band on his finger as Aelin stepped out of the elevator and began walking to her studio.

“You ready for today?” he asked, keeping stride with her easily.

“Of course, I am,” she replied.  Her confidence was deceiving, but it was something she’d practiced ever since she was a child who wanted to get out of trouble. “It’s just like any other podcast.”

Dorian made a noise in the back of his throat. “This is potentially the biggest release our company—”

“I know, Dorian.” Aelin stopped outside her studio and handed Dorian the mess of energy drink and notes she was carrying so she could unlock the door. “I’m not an idiot.”

Dorian followed her inside and she caught a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry.  I know you know.  And I know you’ll take this seriously.  Just…try not to hate on him too much, yeah?”

It was no secret really that Aelin and Rowan had a slight rivalry going on.  At least, Dorian was the only one really aware of it.  And Elide.  But Elide was the best at keeping secrets herself.

“Can I tease him about the fated mates trope?” she asked.

“No.”

“Boo.”  Aelin took her things back from him and rolled her eyes. “Do you want to read through my notes?  Give me your approval, oh great one?”

He was already walking back out of the studio, waving a hand overhead. “Behave!”

Aelin snorted a laugh; she’d been granted honorary approval to go to his bachelor party three months ago; if anyone needed to behave it was him.  She wondered partially if his wife actually realized what she’d gotten into.

No matter.

Aelin settled into her usual routine upon arriving at the office in the morning.  If she kept things as normal as possible, they were bound to work out, right?

So she bounced between her actual office and the studio for the next hour, running through her questions and side comments she could make about various points and ideas she’d highlighted from Rowan’s book.

Elide stopped by a few times to give her a countdown to when the podcast would air.  The other woman was technically an acquisitions editor, but Aelin was going to try and steal her to be her assistant.  That would piss Kaltain off.

When there was ten minutes left until they were slated to begin.  Aelin went to the studio to make sure everything was ready.  She usually made sure the couch and chair were angled properly first with microphones at the ready before ensuring a blanket and a few pillows were easy to reach.  Not that she thought Rowan would want to snuggle up with a puppy studded fleece blanket—it was the thought that counted.

She was just organizing her desk with her notes and her copy of Rowan’s manuscript when she heard Elide’s voice down the hall.

“She’s just down this way.”  

Aelin gave everything one final look in the studio before deciding that was just as good as it was going to get.  After all, everything was neat and organized.  Except the bookshelves.  Those were pure chaos.  But in Aelins opinion, keeping bookshelves looking perfect was a useless task.  

Elide rounded the open door, looking far too amused by what was about to unfold.

“Hey Aelin,” she said, leaning against the jam.  Her black hair hung in loose waves and her expression was carefully impassive—though that gleam in her eyes was hard to miss. “I found your next interview in the halls.”

Sure enough, standing behind her was Rowan.  He was dressed casually, far more casual than she’d ever seen him before.  No dress shirt or tie, no slacks, no fancy shoes worth more than her car.  It was a startling contrast to when he’d saved her at the restaurant.  Even his hair was different.  Not that it was bad.  The man had good hair.

“Thanks, Elide,” Aelin said with a smile.  She hadn’t been staring too much, had she?

“Let me know if you need anything,” Elide said.  There was no mistaking her brow raise as she departed.

Oh, Aelin was certainly going to be interrogated later this afternoon.  She stuffed that away far in the back of her mind.

“Come on in, Mr. Whitethorn.”  Aelin gestured him into the room and swung the door shut behind him. “Have a seat on the couch, we’ve got a few minutes.”

She was going to keep this professional and dignified.  All she had to do was get through the next forty-five minutes and then this would be over.  Fifty if she took in time for ads and brief intermission in the middle.

“You can call me Rowan, you know,” he said as he took up an easy position on the couch.  His silver hair was, as usual, perfectly styled and left his handsome face on display.  “After the restaurant and everything.”

Aelin had to fight to keep from glaring too much at him.  Though she did end up pursing her lips tightly enough that her lipstick was definitely going to smudge.

“I think we should agree to never talk about that night.  Ever.”  True nothing that embarrassing had come of it, other than a hit to Aelin’s pride, but talking about it would only lead to more people hearing about it.  And she really didn’t trust Whitethorn not to tease her about it.  Besides, talking about getting stood up by a guy she’d wasted too much time on, to Whitethorn of all people, was not something she wanted to do.

Especially considering she’d spent a great deal of time in the last week thinking about how handsome Rowan actually was.

Rowan only smiled as he watched her shuffle her notes and papers.  Aelin knew if she met his gaze that she would let something slip so she avoided eye contact.  She'd gotten good at that. 

"If you need water, there's a mini fridge under that end table,” Aelin told him.  “Or I can get you a coffee real quick?”

“Water’s fine,” Rowan said.  He reached for the fridge and pulled out one of the plastic bottles chilling. “I'm curious though, did you forgive the man who stood you up?  Or did he have a reasonable explanation?"

"It's none of your business," Aelin replied stiffly.  This was a mistake.  Maybe she could call Elide in here to act as a buffer.  "Do you want a look at some of the questions I have planned or are you okay going in blind?"

Rowan shrugged. "I'm always up for a bit of fun."

Aelin didn't have a response for that so she spent the last few minutes until airing explaining to Rowan how the microphone worked.  He could mute himself if he needed to cough or anything like that, but ultimately, she had control over sounds volume and everything along those lines.

"Do your worst," he told her as she opened the podcast.

"Welcome to Terrasen, listeners and readers alike," Aelin said, still glaring at Rowan. "As you know, today's session is going to be extra fun and special as we have Rowan Whitethorn with us for the first time.  I know many of you have asked about having him on the show as well as have been interested in what he's been working on recently, so here we are."

She paused for a brief moment in preparation. "Rowan, thanks so much for taking the time to join us today."

"Thanks, Aelin," he said, leaning into the mic just a little.  His accent lilted in that familiar way and he looked far too at ease sitting across from her.  His watch clicked happily along on his wrist catching the light as he clasped his hands together. "It's good to be here.  I've been a long-time listener."

Liar.  "Really?  What have been some of your favorite episodes?"  She'd catch him out and not feel the least bit sorry for it either.

"Well, the series about what makes a romance book was rather interesting, I have to say.  Especially your comments on smut," he grinned at her and Aelin flipped him of.  At least this wasn't a video session too.

"I like a bit of fun," she dryly, throwing his own words back at him. "Good to know what keeps you entertained."

"Oh, I like hiking too."

"Right," Aelin snatched on to that with the sole goal of getting out of the current conversation. "Which is something you grew up doing a lot of right?  You grew up in Scottland?"

"Aye, just outside of Edinburgh," Rowan said. "Moved to America when I was seventeen, but most of my summers I went back to stay with my cousins."

"Do you miss it?" Aelin asked. "From what I've read in your books the landscape the history, the people, it's all so beautiful and wonderful and rich."

"Aye," Rowan ran a hand over his chin. "It'll always be a part of me.  My da taught me everything about the outdoors and nature and adventuring as he could before he passed, that's why I moved to America.  So my mum could be near family.  And growing up without him just left a hole in my heart, y'know?  So writing and research just turned into a way for me to remember him.”

Aelin tried to ignore the effect of his words.  She knew what that was like exactly.

“Right,” she agreed, “sometimes telling stories is the best way to remember someone, or something.”

Rowan met her gaze again and something flashed in his eyes as he nodded his agreement.

“Plus, it’s an easy way to relieve stress,” he added. “With all the research I’ve done, y’know I spent every day for three months training with a group of tae kwon do specialists just to learn how to describe one fight scene properly?”

From there, it was easy for Aelin to continue asking him about writing and research and why he’d chosen non-fiction to begin with.  Just like the night at the restaurant—it was far to easy to talk to him.  Far too easy to have this simple, easy-going conversation with him.

In fact, it had been a long time since she’d been able to talk like this to anyone.  Which, maybe wasn’t a good thing.  Most of this was scripted anyways not to mention Rowan had done plenty of other interviews and certainly had many of these responses memorized.

Hell.

She’d started reading too much into this.

“So,” Aelin said as they were nearing the end of the segment. “I’m still surprised you actually made the leap in to fiction—fantasy no less.  And with a lead character like Celaena Sardothien.”

“You’re surprised I can write a female main character?”  Rowan chuckled.  He’d rolled up the sleeves to his shirt a while ago, one of his arms in a full tattoo sleeve.  She couldn’t understand whatever language the majority of the tattoos were in but she did recognize a few Gaelin words and symbols in the mix.

“Well, yes.”

“C’mon, Galathynius,” he said, “even you have to admit you liked my book.  I did a good job.  Especially with Celaena.”

“Do I though?  You should see all the marks I made on the manuscript.”  In truth there weren’t very many, at least not as many as she had given in the past.  But she would add some if it would shut him up.

“The book hits all your favorite tropes,” Rowan said.  He wore that all knowing smirk of his that had been infuriating (and fine, fascinating) her for the last forty-five minutes.

“How do you even know what I like?”

Rowan chuckled, a sound that hit Aelin like a shot to the heart. “We’ve been friends for five years.”

“We’re not friends,” Aelin corrected, but there was no malice in her words.

“Please Galathynius,” he insisted, “you like me.”

“Shut up Whitethorn.”  Aelin muted him as burst into laughter and she had to fight to keep her own voice even as she addressed her listeners. “We’ve just had a great conversation with novelist, Rowan Whitethorn about his upcoming high fantast adventure Dead Man’s Game which will be released on November fifteenth.  Thanks for listening friends, we’ll see you next time.”

She made all the necessary clicks and flicks to shut the mics down properly and just like that the segment was over.  Looking up, Aelin scowled at Rowan.  She’d been doing that a lot hadn’t she?

“Seriously?” she asked.

“Are we really not friends?”  Rowan finally leaned back in his seat.  Even that small bit of distance was enough that Aelin felt she could finally take a breath of air.

The table between them wasn’t even that big but being close to him had put her heart in overdrive and made her mind feel like a pile of mush.

“Whitethorn,” she said, ignoring his small eyeroll at the use of his last name, “we both know the extent of our “relationship” has been insulting each other.”

That made him pause and another look flashed across his features, one Aelin couldn’t identify.  But it made her squirm all the same.  So, she launched herself out of her seat.  She didn’t want to think about anything beyond being done with this segment and maybe having some peace of mind.

“It was a live session,” she told him, “so you can listen to it whenever.  I think Dorian had a few extra things he needed to get you relating to your edits.”

Aelin needed to shut down whatever emotions were cutting through her.  It wouldn’t do good to dwell on them or Rowan longer than necessary.  This was just a passing occurrence.  Eventually he would leave their publishing house—or get so big as a name that he couldn’t be bothered with her silly little podcast.

Not that she cared.  Or that it mattered.

Slowly, Rowan stood from his seat, his eyes trained on her. “Do I get your edits?”

Aelin blinked. “What?”

“Your edits?  All the notes and thoughts you had on the manuscript?” He didn’t move to leave like she expected him to.  He just kept waiting for her answer.

“I—” she paused. “You really want them?”

“Of course,” he said, “your thoughts have always been invaluable to me.”

She’d never really understand that word: invaluable.  Oh she knew what it meant and that Rowan said it as a compliment, but it had always struck her as an asinine and bland way of describing somethings true worth.  Rowan regarded her with such sincerity that Aelin was already reaching for the giant stack of papers from where she’d left it on the edge of her desk.

For some reason, she was hesitant on giving him the pages.  It wasn’t like she’d struggled with this before.  As she held the manuscript out for him, however, she felt shy.  And Aelin damned Galathynius was not shy.  Mala above.

“Ignore what you don’t like,” she said, just as she always did.

“Thank-you,” Rowan said.  He tucked the papers into his arm and, finally, retreated for the door.

“Wh—” Aelin paused mentally cursing herself, “Rowan?”

He turned, hand on the doorknob.

“Where did Celaena’s character come from?” she asked, it was the one question they didn’t get into during the interview, but the one that intrigued her most. “She’s brilliant, strong, and has to be inspired by someone.  Who?”

A small smile quirked one side of his lips as he pushed the door open. “I thought it was obvious.”

And then he was out the door, swallowed up by a shout from Dorian calling him into his office.

Aelin could only stare after him.  And just like the night of that insufferable date—she was left confused and uncertain about what his words actually meant.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Tumblr is not allowing me to tag anyone right now, so if you could reblog to increase exposure, I would so very much appreciate it! <3

[bottlesofrouge]

on one condition.

harry styles x original character

part four.

word count: 15K (sorrrry)

warnings: talks of alcohol abuse, minor mentions of homophobia, hinting at a past abusive relationship, bleeding, i think that's it

23 JULY 2018

lynn wakes up late.

she slept through a total of three alarms, fifteen texts, and four phone calls from harry. his incessant banging on her front door was what finally got her out of bed, and by that time, she was already twenty minutes late.

so, she literally rolled out of bed, grabbed her belongings and ran to meet harry at his car. she was sporting old, ratty sweatpants and a t-shirt from her high school mathletes club. glasses replaced her usual contacts and she didn't even have time to brush her teeth.

harry's waiting with his trunk open. he's got on slacks and a stupid button-up top that matches his eyes, and she thinks his hair is slicked back in a way that makes it look a little greasy, but when she gets closer she realizes that it's just wet and also all chopped off. he looks so perfect and pulled together it makes her sick.

"rough night?" he's got his mouth turned upwards in a smirk so big, you'd be blind to miss it. it's annoying and obnoxious, and she makes sure at least one of her bags nudges him on the way into the trunk.

"3am manic episode haircut?" she bites back.

"alright," harry pushes the button to close the trunk. "let's go. we're already late."

the two don't talk for the entire car ride. lynn spends it knocked out with her face pressed against the glass, and she doesn't wake up until harry's shaking her shoulder in the parking lot of the westchester county airport.

he's got all of their bags out of the car already, and he doesn't let lynn carry anything besides her purse. really, there's so many bags. she's got three and he's got two of his own, yet he makes carrying all of them look effortless. like he could do it for ten miles without ever breaking a sweat.

once they've got their bags checked in, lynn drools at the sight of the tsa line. she's so tired.  she feels like she could fall asleep using one of the scanner belts as a bed.

she can't tell if harry could read her mind or if she just looked that utterly exhausted because he gently pulls on her elbow, letting her put all of her weight on him. he's got his arms wrapped around her center and his head's on shoulder. she thinks that if she wasn't so tired, she'd push him off. they look like the average teenage couple at an amusement park. how humiliating.

she felt so pathetic leaning on him like this, but lynn couldn't bring herself to move. last night was the first night in practically months that she slept for more than ninety consecutive minutes. it was like every hour of missed sleep was catching up to her all at once, and keeping her eyes open seemed like the most difficult task in the world. she was definitely not god's strongest solider.

"s'nice," she hums, opening her eyes enough to look over at him, "your hair. it suits you."

his face flushes, and she can't help the grin that spreads across her face. she loves making him blush. he'd stumble over his words and avoid eye contact while he spoke. it was cute.

he was cute.

she expects some kind of flustered 'thank you' to come out of his mouth, but it doesn't. instead he puts his palm out to her face, "maybe you should have a mint."

her eyes roll when she straightens herself back up, no longer leaning on him. she goes through the line first, and when harry's bag gets pulled, she slips away into the bathroom wanting to brush every square inch of her mouth before he could notice she was gone.

harry talks to the gate agent to get their seats switched so they could have two next to each other. lynn had asked her first, and the girl behind the desk said it was a completely full flight, but then harry went up there with that stupid grin and his shining green eyes, and came back three minutes later with two new boarding passes and a phone number on a scrap piece of paper.

"unbelievable," lynn mutters, and harry laughs, shoving the piece of paper in his pocket.

"sorry she didn't think you were sexy, blondie," he teases. "do you think maybe it's the stained sweatpants or the mathletes tshirt? personally, i'd say the glasses-"

"i'm not in the mood right now, harry. don't piss me off."

he hums, arms wrapping around her shoulders, "you look cute, lynn. very soccer mom."

she gently shoves him away, but not before he kisses her. it was nothing crazy, just a peck and she's not really sure why he does it, but when lynn looks over at the girl behind the counter, she's already looking back.

lynn knows harry was only teasing, but she pretends to be interested in the way the little car is pushing back a plane at a nearby gate to hide the way tears pool in her eyes. maybe it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe she was extra sensitive today, but the way he spoke about her reminded her of kathleen in the worst way possible.

harry asks to take the window since he was the one to get their seats changed after all, but lynn refuses. he was pissing her off so badly today. all she wanted to do was put in her airpods and go the fuck to sleep.

harry taps her shoulder, leaning in again to ask if they could switch.

"i'm not giving you head."

the flush returns to his face as one of the flight attendants passes by, eyes rolling at lynn's words. lynn watches as she looks up at the seat numbers, mentally making a note of where the two were sitting.

"fuck, lynn. are you kidding me?"

"stop bothering me," she replies, taking his sweatshirt off of his lap and shoving the balled up fabric between her head and the wall. "have a good flight, harry."

he scoffs next to her, opening his mouth to say something else, but lynn's already turning up her music and closing her eyes.

✮✮✮

lynn's family wasn't coming in until later. they were all originally booked on a flight at twelve in the afternoon, but once she saw harry's flight confirmation, she changed hers. it would be unfair to have him wake up so early just to sit alone at the airport for hours on end.

so, she forked over the money to change her flight and the time for the rental car reservation, and while she was at it, she put the car under harry's name so technically, he had be the one doing all the driving. it was just another thing to make this trip easier for her.

she's sitting in the passenger seat of a green kia soul, looking at the text from her mother that just came through.

'Selfish as usual Lynn.'

her parents owned a condo in the keys. they had bought it when she was the only child, so it was small, one bedroom and one bathroom. her aunts were supposed to take it while she stayed with her family in a bigger condo in the same resort, but now that harry was coming, aunt cece wanted lynn and harry to be able to have some alone time, and offered it up.

and who was she to say no? kathleen being completely against it was just a bonus.

"what made you cut all your hair off in the middle of the night?" lynn asks, eyes focused on the water outside of her window. she felt better. well-rested. it was like she was a new person.

"just wanted a change," he says. "probably a 3am manic episode or whatever you called it.

she hums, stretching in her seat before looking over at him. she meant what she said. short hair suited him. lynn might even go as far to say that it looked better than his long hair. significantly better, really.

"i dropped out of college," he says. it's random, but he says it with such urgency, like he's been waiting— itching to tell her. "that night you stayed over. i dropped out that day."

"nice!" she holds her hand up for a high five, but he just looks at her with furrowed brows and his lips slightly parted. "are you really going to leave me hanging?"

"sorry i don't want to celebrate me ruining my life." his tone is cold and sharp, and so different from how he's been towards her all day.

she can't help the way her eyes roll. "college isn't for everyone, harry. i'm a drop out, and look at me."

"my point exactly."

"excuse me?" her chest feels hot, and she sits up in her seat to fully look at him. "what is that supposed to mean?"

"mommy and daddy aren't going to fork over thousands so i can open my own art studio," he says. "you don't know what it's like to have parents who would never dream of supporting you. they're going to kill me when i tell them."

"you don't fucking know me, harry," she's cut off my another text coming through.

'Shouldn't have expected anything less.'

✮✮✮

"did you want something with jackie?" lynn's sitting on the couch of the condo, and harry's leaning back next to her in a recliner that probably cost more than the bakery's monthly rent. there's an end table between them which held lynn's nearly empty wine glass and a bottle of ibuprofen so big, it cost her a whopping thirty five dollars. "did i ruin that? is that why you're always so upset with me?"

the two haven't spoken since the car ride from the airport. harry wordlessly pulled in to a gas station, and lynn went inside while he pumped the gas. she came out with two bottles of white wine and her precious ibuprofen to find him in the passenger seat.

their bags were thrown in the single bedroom as soon as they walked in. lynn carried in her purse and gas station wine and by the time she figured out how to unlock the door, harry was behind her with all five pieces of luggage.

she hated how much of a gentleman he was.

"i don't date, lynn." his eyes never leave his phone screen.

"sure you do. if you found the right person."

"you think my right person is someone who screws her best friends boyfriend?" he looks up at her and pops the piece of gum he's been chewing since they got on the plane in new york. the way he's chewing should be a felony.

lynn thinks she's going to need more wine to finish the conversation, so she gets up to refill her glass. she feels a little light on her feet when she walks, and perhaps she should stop while she's ahead.

she contemplates it for a second in the kitchen, but she's had a rough day. lynn tips the wine bottle into her glass until it's empty.

"i get the feeling that you don't really like me," she takes her seat on the couch again. "and i know it's not all unwarranted. i've had my bad moments."

harry looks up, eyeing the way her finger traces the stem of her over poured glass of wine. "i think you should stop drinking."

she nods, not in agreement, but in a way that meant she knew harry would say something like that. "right."

he sighs and sets his phone on the table. "jackie was a friend." his shoulders move up. "she was hot so we slept together."

she brings the wine glass up to her lips, taking a gulp so big, harry could probably see the way it moves down her throat.

"our relationship is so different than that, lynn. you know parts of me that no one else does and i don't even know your middle name."

she waves her hand dismissively, "why don't you just ask?"

"because the one time i was vulnerable with you," he spits. "you threw it right back in my face."

there's so much anger laced in his voice, it makes lynn's stomach hurt. that hot feeling comes seeping into her chest, and she tries to hide the tears brimming in her eyes behind another hefty sip of wine.

"i'm sorry," her voice cracks, and she expects harry to soften up just a little bit. "i shouldn't have. i just-"

"you just what?" his eyebrow's are furrowed when he speaks and lynn looks down to see his fists clenched around nothing.

he was still so mad at her.

"i was jealous of the way that you were with her," lynn admits. they were rarely ever so honest with each other, saying it made her feel like she just stood up and stripped naked in the middle of the room.

"jealous that i was fucking her? because we can fix that."

her eyes close, and she brings the glass to her lips again. she loathes the way harry can turn what feels like the most innocent of conversations into something sexual. maybe one day he'd see her for more than just her body.

"you were kind to her," her voice is quiet and soft, like she was telling him her inner most secrets. "and i wanted you to be kind to me, too."

"because you have been so kind to me?" harry's mouth thinned and eyes narrowed with his words.

"yeah, well. i guess not," lynn laughs a little to hide the way a tear spilled over. "i mean i tried to be when we first met at that stupid barbecue and you hated-"

"i didn't want to be there," he interrupts. "i was having a horrible day and my mom trying to set me up just pushed me over the edge."

"how do you think i felt?" her eyes are pleading with him as she speaks. lynn's not really sure what she's asking for, but she thinks she gets it when he takes a deep breath through his nose and his shoulders fall with his exhale.

"if i hated you, i wouldn't have given you my bed," he speaks without breaking eye contact. "and i definitely wouldn't have spent hours making two different meals for you."

"why did you do that?"

he shrugs. "i wanted to."

"but why?"

"i don't fucking know, lynn."

it's falls silent, and she finishes her glass of wine. when she sets the empty glass down on the table, it almost tips over, but harry's quick to catch it and pull it away from her.

maybe he was being more attentive than she thought.

"my grandma paid for my bakery," she hiccups. "left me all this money in her will with a letter that said to spend it on something that would make me happy."

lynn watches as his face softens and his shoulders slouch over in the chair.

"i know what it's like to do it all on your own. my parents never supported me, harry. not once. and i guess i had the financial support, but it came with my grandma dying which is so fucking devastating because she was the only one to ever want something more for me."

the room starts to feel hotter the more she thinks about it. her jaw clenches and all she can see is red. it was so unfair.

"lynn, i didn't know."

"no one knows because i'm never in that bakery." she seethes. "i opened it because i love to bake, and now i sit an in office and do paperwork and payroll every second that isn't taken up by raising two kids that aren't even mine."

"you don't have to raise them. it wouldn't hurt to take a step back," he looks pained almost when he speaks, and lynn's jaw drops at his words, a stare of blank amazement written all over her face. how could he be so stupid?

"i've lived the life that doing that would give them, and it fucking sucks. i don't want them to ever feel like that."

she doesn't even realize she's crying until it's quiet between them and she can finally hear the quiet sobs that come bubbling up from her chest.

"my parents pay for everything," harry blurts. she's turned so she doesn't have to look at him, but she can hear the frantic sound in his voice. it's like he's scrambling to make sense of what just happened between them. offering her whatever reasoning he can to explain why he just acted the way he did. "i've been so stressed thinking about what's going to happen when they find out, and i took it out on you when i shouldn't have. i'm sorry."

"if you needed help with money, there's always a job for you at my bakery, harry. you have to get it through your thick skull that you just need to ask for help."

"i don't want hand outs."

lynn can't help the way she laughs out loud, "it's a job. you actually have to work for what you make. i know that's probably a foreign concept for you."

a knock at the door interrupts them, and harry stands up to answer it. when the door swings open, kathleen's already walking inside. she's got her sunglasses on and her arms are crossed in front of her and god, lynn knew this was going to break her.

"harry, hi!" she kisses his cheek. "i hope your travels were good. i know how lynn can be."

she hears them laugh, and lynn uses the tips of her fingers to push the tears back into her eyes. she was not going to give either of them the satisfaction of watching her cry. again.

kathleen walks past him, standing on the other side of the coffee table to block the window lynn was pretending to look out of.

"confining your poor aunts to a small bedroom, i raised you better than this, lynn adams."

"aunt cece insisted on trading with us, mom," her words were soft. if she spoke any louder, she knew her voice would waver. "harry would be more comfortable here, and silas would actually have space when he comes."

kathleen looks over to harry who is staring back at the two wide-eyed.

"it was an empty offer, lynn. you of all people should be familiar with those."

lynn wants to scream at her mom because what the fuck is that supposed to mean. she knows her mom's probably upset that she had to watch her own two children on a three hour flight, but lynn doesn't want to push it. instead, she just blinks. she's so miserable.

"breakfast is at 8 tomorrow. don't be late," she goes to leave but turns back after a step. "i hope you can pull yourself together enough to not look like you belong under an underpass."

"i've raised you to take pride in your appearance," kathleen takes a step towards lynn with every hateful word she spews until she's practically in her face. her fingers pinch the sleeve of the t-shirt the girl's wearing. "this is embarrassing for me, lynn."

kathleen stands up, clapping her hands together like she didn't just humiliate her daughter, and turns to harry with the biggest smile on her face.

"sorry, harry. i'm sure you're well accustomed with just how selfish she can be," she kisses his cheek on the way to the door. "we are so glad you could join us. see you tomorrow."

she walks out of the door, and harry stays frozen in place. he's got those same wide doe eyes, and his lips are parted. his eyebrows are drawn together, and lynn can't help but look away. she hated when people pitied her.

there's a watery smile sat on her face, and she forces a teasing laugh, "how's that for being vulnerable?"

"i didn't know she treated you like that," harry says after a moment.

"she's just having a bad day," lynn shrugs. the way she says it is almost convincing, but when lynn finally gets a good read on the look in harry's eyes, she breaks. nasty sobs, ones so big they take her breath away, fall from her mouth, and she buries her face into her hands, wishing nothing more than to never be perceived by the boy standing in front of her again.

harry doesn't say anything, and instead sits down next to her. she feels his hands pressing against her back and fingers squeezing her shoulders, and when it's not enough, he pulls her into him with such force it almost hurts. his lips press against the side of her head before he tucks her head under his chin and squeezes her as tight as he can until she feels like she can finally catch her breath again.

"i don't want to be here," lynn confesses. it's quiet and harry barely catches it, but when it registers, he presses his lips against her hair and rubs his hand up and down her arm.

"i know," she can feel the words vibrate in his chest. "i'd say we go home right now, but i don't think you'd want that."

she shakes her head. "i don't want to leave my sisters here without me."

"you've got me here," he offers. "we can have fun with them."

lynn snorts. "we can't go eight hours without ripping each other's heads off."

she says it like it's a scientifically proven fact. like nothing could ever change that, yet she's holding on to his shirt like he's the only thing keeping her all put together. if he were to let her go, she'd break into a million pieces.

"i'm sorry for earlier," harry says. "i was such a dick."

"it's okay," she hums.

"it's not," his thumbs rub circles against her skin when he speaks. "i never want me treating you like that to be okay."

lynn can't help herself, "i don't think you'd be saying that if you didn't see how my mother treated me."

"probably not," he admits. "i still would've been wrong, though. i don't want to be someone you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around, lynn."

lynn hums and leans into him more, and harry pulls her closer, his grip tightening. there's probably going to be bruises left behind on her skin from just how tightly he's holding her against him.

she wishes the marks would stay forever so she could always remember the way she wasn't left to put herself together all on her own for once. she'd probably press her fingertips into them every time she felt so broken and alone, desperately hoping to feel the way she does now.

"i should be the one apologizing," her voice is raw. "i've been just as terrible to you. probably even worse."

"you're kind, too," harry mouths against her temple. "especially when it matters, s'where i lack. i'm not very good at being kind."

she leans back, scoffing. "not very good at being kind? look at you now."

he loosens his arms, but they still stay around her like he's scared to let her go. harry's cheeks turn pink, and he brings one hand up to use the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe the tears from under her eyes.

"yeah well," he laughs lightly. "i don't like seeing you upset."

her eyebrow raises, and she looks at him skeptically.

"i hate being the one who upsets you even more," his fingers pull her hair away from her sticky cheeks and tucks the strands behind her ear. "i don't know. i think we should've spent some time getting to know each other a bit more before we started all of this."

"would've changed your mind after realizing just how much of a bitch i was, huh?"

she's got a teasing smile on her lips, but harry just frowns. "lynn, no. that's not it at all."

"i was kidding," she chews her lips, looking down to smooth out the collar of his shirt. "kind of. i was a bitch."

"and i've been been a dick so we can call it even. i just— i don't know. this was supposed to make our lives easier, and i feel like we're just constantly hurting or upsetting each other."

"yeah," she hums. "do you want to go home?"

"no. of course not. that's not what i meant." he sighs, and lynn leans back. his hands still loosely sit on her arms, but there's space between them now.

"i think we could use this trip to get to know each other," lynn says. "communicate more, set some boundaries. being more comfortable with each other physically wouldn't kill either. i know my mom would start to have some questions if she constantly walked in on us nine feet apart from each other."

"yeah, i agree."

"are you okay if we maybe just sit here for a minute?" she asks. "together? you know, to get more comfortable with each other?"

"yeah, let me just.." he moves so he's got his back against a pillow propped up on the arm of the couch. harry takes lynn with him, so she's curled up against his side, head resting on his chest. he's got his arm around her and she can feel like way his fingertips trail from her hip to her ribcage and then back down. "there."

they're only like that for a minute before she starts crying again. "m'sorry."

"don't be," his voice matches the intensity of hers. he takes a deep breath, and then, "i've got you, blondie. just like you had me."

"m'not usually this weepy," she says. "haven't been in a while."

harry doesn't say anything at first, and lynn can feel the way his heart beat quickens when he opens his mouth, "does your mom treat your sisters like that, too?"

"i don't think so," she hums. "she's not always that intense either. s'why i stay around so much. i'd rather it be me than them."

maybe it's the bottle of wine, or maybe harry's just made her feel that comfortable. "she's better with them. when i was a baby, i had an au pair. my dad had an affair with her, and moved out before i was even one. i think she blames me for that. like their marriage would be so different if i hadn't been born."

"lynn, i-"

she's quick to sit up on her forearm, pressing her palm to harry's mouth. "i think it's the wine that's got me spilling all my secrets. don't reply to that."

"i just wish you had better," he says, and lynn can't help the watery grin that spreads across her face.

"me too," she hums. he's looking at her in a way she can't really read, and she's looking back with old tears drying on her cheeks and fresh ones pooling in her eyes.

lynn sits up when all the glances and touches start to feel like maybe she'd like to be trapped underneath him, his lips pressed against hers until she couldn't breathe anymore.

she'd blame that last thought on the wine.

"we passed a chinese spot on the way in," she says.

"but we just had chinese."

"but chicken lo mein?" lynn's rubbing her belly like she's absolutely famished. "god, i'm so hungry."

harry laughs, and lynn can't help but stare. his eyes wrinkled at the sides and his dimples came out, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't find it cute.

"let me get the keys."

"perfect. let me go change."

"don't," he catches her wrist. "your mom has to be so fucking miserable. you look fine." he's looking at her with such intensity, it makes her stomach hurt.

"you're not embarrassed by this?" her voice is soft. she's still got her mathlete's t-shirt on, but she swapped the sweatpants for a pair of shorts.

"fuck no," he says. "i was just teasing you at the airport, lynn. you look pretty, really. you always do."

her cheeks warm, and she pretends to fix her hair in the reflection of the t.v. to hide it.

"maybe no more teasing about how i look."

"of course," he moves next to her, doing the same to his hair. "should've punched me in the face and told me to shut the fuck up. m'sorry, lynn."

"s'okay," she laughs lightly, catching his eye in the reflection. "i think we owe ourselves a fresh start.”

"i think so, too."

they share a two top table in the corner of a small hole in the wall chinese restaurant that took forever to get to. harry orders for them, swapping both of their usual meals for something a bit bigger. lynn got general tso’s chicken with lo mein as a side, and harry asked for beef and broccoli with a side of his usual fried rice.

they ate in silence for a few minutes, each being too hungry to talk, but once the hunger pains subsided, harry started to make a list in the notes app of his phone.

“touching’s okay,” lynn says around her fork. “but maybe we should ask before kissing. at least until it’s something we’re both really comfortable with.”

harry nods in agreement, making it the fourth bullet point in the list. it fell behind communicating better, no more sex jokes, and no more pushing each other too far.

lynn hums in contentment at the list. her brain felt fuzzy and focusing on coming up with another bullet point felt like the hardest task ever, so she moved her attention to the chicken in front of her until harry turned his phone around.

stand up for each other when it comes to our parents

lynn grins at him, “i like that one. maybe we can add no more labeling it as an open relationship if that’s okay with you. you can still see other people, just have to be a little more careful with it.”

harry types it out, and then turns his phone around. written under it, “friends are off limits.”

the two stay in the restaurant for an hour making the list. at the end, they’ve gone through six fortune cookies and three pots of green tea and have compiled a whopping forty five bullet points.

on the way back harry makes a wrong turn, or that’s what lynn thinks, and they end up in the parking lot of a 24 hour winn dixie.

"i thought i could get us more wine," he says. "and you could get some things to bake while we're here. we could make jane a birthday cake.”

"harry..."

he shrugs. "you don't have to. i just thought maybe you’d want to.”

she can't hold back her grin as they walk towards the aisle, and it makes harry smile, too. they stay in there for nearly an hour, and lynn can hear him muffling a yawn with his hand every so often, but harry never once complains.

when they’re finally back, harry carries all of the groceries inside while lynn unlocks the door. she changes into her pajamas and harry puts all the groceries into empty cabinets.

later, they’re both sitting in the living room, some random tv show playing quietly in the background. lynn felt like she has lived a hundred different lives today, yet the fact that the two are where they are now made every ounce of anger and every tear she’d worth it.

"drew," her voice is quiet when she speaks, a little scratchy from staying quiet for so long.

"what about him?"

"that's my middle name."

"you're kidding," the corners of harry’s mouth are upturned slightly, unsure if he should laugh or not.

she shakes her head. "my parents wanted a boy."

and really, they never wanted her. lynn was just the starting point of the biggest fuck up in their marriage. she held her mom back in her career, and was probably the only reason her parents even got back together in the first place.

"what's up, blondie?" harry’s looking at her with soft eyes.

"hm?"

"what're you thinking about?"

she hums for a second, debating if she should ruin this good place they just got to with her own mommy issues.

“just how badly i want to crawl into bed.”

harry stands up, and returns back with a pillow and blanket in one hand and a glass of wine in the other.

“go,” he pushes the wine towards her. “i’ve got the couch.”

“thank you,” she takes the glass from his hand, weakly smiling at him, and he returns it with one of those smiles he gave jane that night in her playroom. it's bright and beautiful.

and more importantly, it's all for her.

24 JULY 2018

lynn starts her morning with her face in the toilet bowl. she really shouldn't have had that much wine last night, but she couldn't help herself. she was so incredibly tired, yet nothing was helping her fall asleep.

there's a soft knock at door, and lynn groans. her face is sticky and she's got it pressed against the ceramic of the sink trying to cool herself down.

"come in."

"oh, blondie," harry's pushing the door open. he's got a large cup full of ice water and the container of ibuprofen in his hand. "i didn't think you drank that much."

"had more after you went to sleep," she groans, hunching back over the toilet. "finished the second bottle and maybe half of the third."

"you should've woken me up," he sits next to her on the floor. his hands pull down her shirt to cover her exposed skin, and then run across her back as she gets sick again.

"gross," he reaches up to flush the toilet.

she scowls over at him, "at least you aren't covered in it."

his shoulders draw together, cringing at the thought. "not my best moment."

it's quiet between them as lynn lowers the lid of the toilet. her arms cross on top of it, and she rests her head on her arms, sighing at just how terrible she feels.

"feeling any better?" he reaches for her face, pushing her hair off of her sweaty forehead.

she shakes her head, and harry unscrews the cap of the ibuprofen. a few fall into his hand, and he nudges them past her lips, bringing the cup of water to her mouth after.

"thank you," she takes the cup from him, gulping half of it before setting it back down on the floor.

"why don't you get back in bed?"

"that stupid breakfast," she mutters. "can you start the shower when you leave?"

lynn finds harry sitting on the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. he's wearing a pair of black swim trunks and a yellow button up top. his sunglasses pushed his hair away from her face, and the whole room smelled like banana boat sunscreen.

she sighs before sitting in the chair to slip her sandals on. "ready?"

"are you sure you want to go?"

she shakes her head, "but we have to. i just want to get it over with."

the two walk to the resort restaurant holding hands. it feels almost corny to lynn. to be doing this when she's pushing thirty, but maybe that's just because she doesn't think she's ever seen her parents hold hands. they never really show affection.

jane squeals when she sees harry, jumping up from her spot at the table and running to cling to his leg.

"oh, sunflower," he bends down to pick her up, letting her sit on his hip. "i've missed you."

"you saw me the other day," her arms cross like she's mad at harry for forgetting.

"i know," he pinches her side. "i still missed you."

harry wraps his free hand around lynn's back, resting it on her hip and pulling her closer to the two, "no hello, jane?"

the little girl huffs, turning away from her sister. "you left me alone yesterday on the plane."

lynn goes to reply, but harry beats her to it, "m'sorry. i needed lynn to come with me, janey." his voice lowers. "i'm scared of planes."

jane gasps, hand flying to her mouth in a way that's so dramatic it has harry and lynn giggling.

"you're late lynn," her mother is sitting at the head of the table, eyes glancing at her watch.

"that's my fault, ms. kathleen," harry's putting jane back in her chair. "i wasn't feeling my best when i woke up."

kathleen doesn't respond, and lynn wraps her arms around amelia's neck, bending down to kiss her cheek to hide her growing smile.

harry and lynn sit across from each other, with a sister on either side of them. lynn scoots her chair closer to amelia, engaging in conversation about anything her sister wanted to talk about. she felt like the girl was pulling away from her now that she was getting older, and lynn found herself desperately wishing to go back to a year ago when melia would sit under the covers of her bed, spilling her innermost thoughts to her older sister.

she tried to keep her attention fully on amelia as she spoke, but lynn couldn't resist the urge to steal a glance at the two across from her every so often. jane usually had her hand in the air, waving around a green crayon triumphantly while harry had his face in his hands, quietly weeping over another lost game of tic tac toe.

"ugh, you're gushing over him," amelia whines. "you're not even listening."

"am not," lynn brings her mug up to her lips. "you were talking about how mr. fielder was being unfair with your last geometry quiz. he gave you a 72 and you think you deserve an 80."

"it was algebra," she rolls her eyes, turning her attention to her phone.

harry's looking over with furrowed brows and lynn shrugs, not really knowing why her sister seemed so upset with her. the only part she had gotten wrong was the type of math class. sue her.

when they're finished eating, kathleen and peter leave without saying a word, and lynn realizes they're stuck with amelia and jane. it was so like her mother to invite her just to play babysitter.

jane decides she wants to go to beach, so the two older girls follow while harry stops back at the condo to get everything he needed.

lynn's sitting on one of the lounge chairs, rubbing sunscreen into jane's skin when harry joins them again. he's got an overflowing beach bag on his shoulder, two of lynn's water bottles filled to the brim in one hand, and a book from her carry-on and her pair of forgotten sunglasses in the other.

god, he was a dream.

"why don't you rest?" harry sits down next to her, pulling jane's life vest from the bottom of the bag. "i've got them today."

"it's your vacation, too, harry. i can't-"

"please," he says. "take a break. you deserve it."

"okay," there's a small smile on her lips when she speaks, and it grows even more when harry leans in and asks if he can kiss her.

he doesn't though, even when lynn says yes. instead, he focuses on clipping jane's life vest and pulling the tabs to make sure it's tightened properly.

"all set, sunflower. are you coming, amelia?" the girl shakes her head, moving to sit on the lounger next to lynn's instead.

harry leans in and presses his lips against lynn's, just like he did in the parking lot of jane's recital. it's short and sweet and he pulls back just a little before kissing her again. and again. and again.

lynn's leaning back against the lounge chair and harry's chasing her, kissing her face wherever his lips could reach. she's laughing the kind of laugh that pinches in her side as she pushes her palms up to harry's lips, stopping his scruff from tickling her.

he kisses her palms once. twice. and then looks at her over her finger tips, mumbling something about being safe, and then he's gone, running to the water with jane's hand in his.

lynn's palms press against her cheeks, wondering if they were as hot as they felt. god, she was blushing.

she's about to open the bag to see what else harry had packed, but she hears her sister scoff next to her, and when she looks over, the younger girl is glaring.

"something wrong, amelia?"

"you're drinking again," she states. "i can see it. you're hungover."

"i'm twenty seven. i can have a hangover," lynn bites back the snippy remark she has on the tip of her tongue because she knows that what she did to amelia will probably forever be burned into her brain.

after her last relationship, she dropped out of college and moved home. she sat in bed everyday, staring at the wall. all of her friends were states away, and it didn't really matter anyway. he had isolated her so badly, the only thing she had to keep her company were her thoughts.

so she drank. because she needed them to stop. because she'd do anything for a few hours of peace and quiet.

some nights she drank so much she'd sleep throughout the entire next day and other times she'd have to move her mattress into the bathroom. lynn hasn't made herself sick in forever. today being an exception.

however, on her worst night, she blacked out, only coming to the next morning in a hospital bed. she had passed out on the stairs in her parents house, leaving a nine year old amelia to find her.

so if amelia was upset about her drinking, she understood. but lynn wasn't twenty one anymore. she went to therapy, she did the work, and she was better. if she wanted to have a few glasses of wine to unwind she would. she deserved it.

"you've only started drinking after you met him," she points out.

"not true, and this has nothing to do with him, mels. it isn't like last time. i promise."

amelia doesn't say anything. instead, she turns on her side away from lynn.

25 JULY 2018

harry blindly searches for his phone on the nightstand in the dark, his palm sliding against the smooth surface to no avail. he groans and rubs his eyes trying to get the sleep out of them before moving to look under the bed.

he finds his phone plugged into the charger on the bathroom counter, not really remembering how it got there. being in the sun all day had him sleeping so hard, he felt like he was still in a dream.

harry splashes some water on his face and looks in the mirror, suddenly becoming aware of just how thirsty he is. cupping his hand under the bathroom sink wasn't going to cut it. he needed the biggest glass of ice cold water he could find.

he moves into the living area, finding lynn sitting on the couch. the dim glow of the television lit up her face as she focused on reading the subtitles that flashed on the screen.

"hey," his voice is low and scratchy, and lynn jumps at the sudden sound. "can't sleep?"

she shakes her head. "not really. what about you?"

"woke up just absolutely parched."

lynn laughs under her breath and pats the couch cushion next to her. "sit. i've got it."

she's already standing, and harry thinks the long twenty step trek to the kitchen seemed so far, so he sits. there's an old rerun of the office on, and lynn's got the volume so low he can barely make out the words. harry wonders if it's like that because she didn't want to wake or because she didn't want him to know she was awake.

he turns up the volume before she sits down, a glass of water in one hand and what he assumes is a mug of tea in the other. harry thanks her, settling into the comfort of the couch.

"go to sleep. you're tired," she says against the lip of her mug, and harry wants to because he is exhausted, but he knew he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about lynn sitting out here all by herself if he was went back into the room.

"and you're not?" he could tell she was just as tired as he was. probably even more. she spent the whole day soaking in the sun with a book in her hand. never once did he come out of the water to find her with her eyes closed.

"i am," her fingers reach for the remote to turn down the volume again. "i just have trouble sleeping sometimes."

"take the bed," lynn's quick to shake her head in protest. "i'm serious, blondie. i could knock out on the floor with a beach towel for a pillow. take the bed, please."

"m'not gonna sleep either way," she mumbles. "you might as well be comfy."

when she looks over at him, harry notices just how slowly she blinks. it's like she's in a daze, glassy eyes barely focusing when they're open. his hand rests on her ankle, thumb brushing over her skin, and she hums in response. he doesn't think she's slept since the plane ride two days ago.

"why don't we share the bed?" her eyes snap open, and she's looking at him like he's said something absolutely absurd. like he's crazy for even thinking the two of them could fit in the california king. "or we can sit out here and watch office reruns. i'm not picky."

"can we watch tv in bed?" she's got a lazy smile on her lips.

"sure," harry squeezes her ankle before helping her up.

when they get into the bedroom, lynn gets under the covers while harry goes to the bathroom to retrieve his phone and plug it into the outlet near the nightstand.

"shall we build one of those pillow walls or whatever they do in every rom com?" he's standing over the bed, stretching out his sore shoulders.

lynn laughs, head tilting back a little, and harry can't help the wave of satisfaction that washes over him because he has her laughing even though she's clearly miserable.

"are you saying you picture us as the two main characters in a rom com, harry styles?" she pats the spot next to her. "we've shared a bed before. shut out the light and get in."

harry's quick to turn the lamp off, wanting nothing more than to hide the flush of his face from the growing heat to his cheeks. he definitely didn't have a crush on her, but if she asked him to kiss her goodnight right now, he wouldn't really be opposed.

as soon as his face hits the pillow, harry feels his eyelids getting heavy. he's not sure if it was the sun or all the swimming around with jane clinging to his side, but he's certain he's never been so tired in his life.

"sorry, i just-" lynn's turning on her phone flashlight, illuminating the small room. harry hears her soft foot steps as she shuts the bedroom door, the click of a lock following right after. the light turns off, and harry feels the bed dip beside him again. "sorry."

"no reason to apologize, blondie."

it's quiet again, and harry feels himself dozing off even with the tv on. lynn keeps the sound down just like before, and opts for some subtitles instead.

"you can turn it up," he speaks with his eyes closed. "i could probably sleep through an explosion."

"s'for me. not you," harry's back is turned toward her, but he can hear the eye roll in her voice. "can't sleep with the sound on."

"right," because he definitely should've known that. how could he be so stupid?

harry doesn't mean to get annoyed with lynn. he really doesn't, but she is so fidgety. she's tossing and turning and rubbing her feet together under the covers. she bites the skin around her nails, and then drops her hands next to her in a way that has the entire bed moving.

and usually, harry would be able to sleep through every shake of the bed and every sigh that fell from her lips. during his freshman year, his roommate admitted to consistently fucking his girlfriend while harry slept soundly... on the bunk above them.

needless to say, he was a heavy sleeper. at least he thought he was. maybe he was having an off night, or maybe it was because lynn was the one sleeping next to him. he didn't really care to know which.

lynn gets up again. this time she decides to use the glow of the television instead of her flashlight. harry hears the click of the bedroom lock, and then shortly after the click of the deadbolt to the actual front door of the condo.

she comes back to the room, shutting and locking the door behind her, and then she twists the knob twice, ensuring it's locked.

he rolls over to face her, "got everything locked up?"

"yeah, i think so," she hums, and harry expects her to relax. maybe lean into the pillow and close her eyes. instead she bites the side of her thumb, and then, "maybe i should check again."

his arm comes out, pushing her back against the mattress. "i've got it."

harry stumbles out of the room, too tired to hold himself up properly. the weight of him has his shoulders slouching and his half closed eyes have him tripping over literal air. he checks the lock on the front door, and then goes to the kitchen to find the keys to it.

he slips them off of the key ring, and then stops before he gets back to the bedroom, running his fingers along the top of the door frame to search for the small key that usually sits on top of it.

he locks the bedroom door behind him, twisting the knobs twice, just like lynn did, and then he gets into bed and searches for her hand under the covers.

"here," harry presses the keys into her palm. "you've got the keys, lynn, everything's locked and no one's getting in."

"thank you," her voice is watery just like it was when she sat in his lap and fell apart the day prior. "the last time i was here was with him."

and harry doesn't really know who she's talking about. he assumes an ex, and feels a burn in his chest at the realization.

she missed him so much, she couldn't sleep.

he wonders if they've shared this bed before, too. if lynn clung to him with tears in her eyes on the couch. maybe he spent hours with her sisters, just so she could breathe for a second, just like harry did. kathy and peter probably loved the guy. harry bets he got more than a head nod when they all sat down for meals.

harry hums in response, too tired to try and form a sentence that doesn't come across like he's a little pissed off. there's no reason for him to be.

he stays awake for a bit longer, reading the subtitles off of the tv. when he notices lynn's breathing slowing, he looks over to see her eyes shut. harry closes his, melting into the mattress and finally falling asleep.

25 JULY 2018

harry thinks lynn is probably the heaviest sleeper in existence.

she's got her face pressed against the pillow, her mouth is open, and he is definitely watching her while she sleeps. it's not that he means to. really, he doesn't. he just doesn't think he's ever seen someone sleep so soundly in his entire life.

the truth is, if anyone deserves a good night's sleep, it's lynn. she was always so busy running between work and taking care of her sisters, and whatever time she did have left over was spent sitting at a dinner table with his parents or at a bar with gemma and drew. it was almost weird to see her without the little worry wrinkle that seemed to be permanently stamped between her eyebrows.

harry slips out of bed, making sure she's still tucked into the sheets in the process. he stops himself from leaning down and pressing his lips against the crown of her head because even his sleep-dazed brain knew that would be insanely crazy.

the coffee lynn had picked out a few nights prior at the grocery store is sitting on the counter, silently begging to be brewed. harry starts a pot for both of them to share, leaning against the counter as the machine hums and splutters as it starts to brew. a sigh pushes past his lips, and he decides that the ache in his chest was something more than leftover heartburn from last night's dinner.

he misses oliver so much.

maybe it's a little selfish, but he can't help but wish that it were oliver here with him instead. they'd probably spend lazy mornings in between the sheets before harry would reluctantly pull himself away to make oliver his favorite breakfast, hoping to get a hundred thank you kisses in return.

and then oliver would probably come out of their room freshly showered, with a smile so big sitting on his lips, it'd make harry's chest physically hurt just because he loved him so much. he'd press kisses to harry's shoulders and his neck and all the way up to his chin before finally kissing his mouth, parting with a quiet 'thank you'. oliver was always so appreciative, and harry thinks he’ll never love anyone as much as he loved the boy.

his daydream comes to an end when he sees lynn walking out of the bedroom with her hair all messy and pulled away from her face. she's still got her pajamas on and there's sleep in her eyes, evidently still tired from last night.

"how do you like your coffee?"

"just cream," lynn’s voice is raspy. "thanks."

she sits on one of the stools in front of him and he pushes the mug towards her before filling up another one with black coffee and setting it in front of himself.

he takes a sip, and then, "sleep good?"

"really good actually," she offers him a small smile. it's shy, almost like she's trying to hide it and stop it from growing any wider. harry’s decided that’s a tell that her smile is genuine. "i know you wanted to sit out today, but do you think you could sit with me in here for a bit after? just until i fall asleep."

"yeah, of course," he says. "yesterday wore me out. i could use a nap, too."

"perfect,” her mug sits at against her lips. “it’s a date, then.”

if it were up to harry, the two would spend the entire day locked away in the room and underneath all of the covers. he was exhausted, and he knew lynn was, too. she's sitting in front of him, eyes glued to her reflection in the marble counter, and she's not saying a word.

"your aunt cece is going to be at breakfast, right?"

lynn nods around a sip of coffee. "and aunt rosie. they got in last night."

"good," he says. "they're lovely."

"they are," lynn agrees. "it’s crazy to think that cece and my mom grew up in the same house."

and harry doesn't know if he should agree or not, but when they're all sitting at the beach after breakfast, he thinks he definitely does.

aunt cece is sitting on a lounger next to him while lynn plays in the water with her sisters. rosie is on the other side of her and peter and kathy are god knows where. it's quiet between the two at first, each just soaking up the sun, and then aunt cece turns her head to look at him.

"lynn told me that you're queer," aunt cece says. "sorry if that was forward of me."

harry doesn't really know what to say, or where exactly this conversation is going so he just nods and sits up a little straighter in his chair. "i am. it's not something i'm really open about though."

"if you don't mind me asking, i was wondering what your views on sexuality are," the older woman replies. "i'm a human sexuality professor. i'm not sure if lynn told you that, but i've been grading the last of these final exams, and i want to see what you think. would you say sexuality is black and white or more of a spectrum?"

"i think it would depend on the person," harry answers. "for me, i'd say more of a spectrum. when i'm with lynn, i feel more on the straight side. i don't know. it sounds stupid. my queerness is still there, but i feel like it's invisible almost to those around me and i think their perceptions affect the way i view myself, too. when i was with my ex boyfriend, it was the opposite. i don't necessarily think it's a bad thing. i don’t mind either way.”

"told you, cecilia," rosie says from next to them. she's looking at her wife with such fondness in her eyes, it makes harry a little jealous.

"whatever," the other woman rolls her eyes, pretending to be annoyed before turning her attention back to harry. "most of my queer students said the same. i was wondering if it was just an age thing."

he tilts his head for a second because he's the same age as aunt cece's college students, but before he can ask what he means, she's opening her mouth again.

"why aren't you open about your sexuality?"

harry's not embarrassed of his queerness, and it's not something he outright hides. he doesn't really like to use the term "closeted" to describe himself, but he did only tell people he was completely comfortable with.

"i'm not ashamed if that's what you think," he replies. "it's my family. it's just easier if i keep that part tucked away."

"i'm sorry to hear that," the older woman is so sincere when she speaks. "there's always room for you in my family, harry. rose and i will always be just a phone call away, even if you and lynn aren’t together anymore."

"it's been forever since she's brought someone around," rosie leans forward. "i don't see you going away any time soon."

there's a burning in the back of his throat, and he's trying so hard not to let tears pool his eyes, "thank you."

aunt cece leans forward to squeeze his hand, and harry thinks it's about to be the final straw. the tears are about to start flooding.

"what'd you do to my boyfriend, aunt cece?" lynn's sitting down on the edge of his lounger. the salt water dripping from her hair feels so good on his skin. "got him all teary eyed."

"your aunt was just telling him how much we love having him around," rosie speaks for her wife.

"we do love having him around," jane joins them, digging in harry's bag to look for her sand bucket.

lynn's thumb brushes away the singular tear he lets fall before anyone else can see, and presses her lips against his temple. "you feeling okay?"

and he nods, leaning his head against her shoulder. he feels more than okay. harry thinks he's never felt so loved in his entire life.

and yet, every part of it is fake.

✮✮✮

"wanna go make out in the water?" lynn giggles at the warmth of harry's words against her skin, and turns her head over to look at him. he's got a lopsided smile on his face, and he moves hand to rest on top of hers, squeezing once. "we don't have to. i'm just kind of bored."

"and making out with me is more exciting than ogling half of chi omega?" she tips her head back, alluding to the group of fake blondes all stretched out across the loungers next to them.

"i'm only looking at you, blondie," she feels his words deep in her stomach and prays to god they don't reflect in her face. the two were laying on their towels in the sand, inches apart. he'd definitely be able to notice if a blush made its way to her cheeks. 

she rolls her eyes, pulling her sunglasses down off of her head to let her hair try and hide her probably pink cheeks, and then she pushes herself up on to her knees, "are you coming or what?"

"can i come?" jane's moving in between them, her big, blue eyes looking up at harry. "please, harry."

"not today, janey," he squeezes just above the girl's elbow, the devastation evident in her face. "tomorrow, though. i promise."

jane sighs, but doesn't press further. instead she sulks back over to her aunts, stopping to pick up any seashells she could use to decorate her castle on the way.

they walk into the water together and lynn wets her hair, pushing it out of her face and moving her sunglasses back up to hold it in place.

"alright. how should we do this?"

harry laughs. he's got his sunglasses over his eyes, but the way his dimples pop out has lynn guessing that his eyes are shining, too. it reminds her of luke’s sunshine smiles. harry’s are different though. the warmth and happiness are so obvious across his entire face. he practically embodied sunshine. 

"you're making it sound like a chore, lynn."

"am not."

and really she wasn't. she was trying her best to not explode with excitement. she'd never tell harry, his ego was big enough as it is, but he was a good kisser, and she's been thinking about the way his mouth felt against hers ever since that night at his apartment.

"come closer," he reaches for her, pulling her into him. his lips press against her hairline, and then they disappear. "gotta warm up to it."

"i'm a bit out of practice," she admits. "don't laugh if i'm bad."

"never," she rests her head on top of his shoulder, feeling the words in his chest as he speaks. "this is just supposed to be fun, blondie."

"right," she hums. "just fun."

"just fun," he repeats it again, voice barely above a whisper. she leans back so she can look at him, and he's got a small smile sitting on his lips. he kisses her face, right next to the corner of her mouth. "this okay?"

"yeah," she hums, and he does it again. "s'good."

harry trails his lips down to under her chin, kissing along her jaw until he meets the skin just below her ear. then she feels it. the way his teeth gently scrape against the sensitive area.

"alright," her hand pushes his face away, but his arm still keeps her against him. "you're just teasing me, now."

"oh, yeah? bet you've been thinking about this since the last time. haven't you?" the words send heat right to her cheeks, and this time she doesn't care to hide it.

"whatever helps you sleep at night," she pinches his bottom lip between her fingers, soothing the skin with the pad of her thumb when she lets go.

his teeth nip at her thumb before she pulls it away with a giggle, "wait, don't i help you sleep at night?"

"oh whatever," she's grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. it reminds her of when she watched him playing with jane, and the way the little girl was smiling so big. she wishes they could've had this kind of relationship from the beginning.

"y'gonna kiss me already?" he squeezes her hip. "or am i gonna have to do all the work?"

"mmm," she hums. "i am kind of tired."

harry pushes her chin up with his finger before pressing his lips to hers. they're warm, and firm and harry always kisses her like he's trying to prove something.

she feels his tongue on her bottom lip, and she squeezes her mouth together for no other reason than to annoy him. "c'mon, lynn. don't be like that."

"y'taste gross," her nose scrunches, and it's true, he did.

harry opens his eyes, keeping his forehead pressed against hers. "i just had a beer."

"exactly," lynn hated the taste. (but if harry were to keep kissing her like how he is now, she would definitely look past it.)

"sorry my mouth can't be as sweet as yours," he drags his thumb across her lips. "all those rum punches, hm?"

lynn let's harry have his way with her mouth. he's sucking and biting and running his tongue  against hers, and she is just taking it. soaking it all up. it's been forever since she's been kissed like this and she feels a little selfish when all she offers him is a few lazy sucks on his lips.

his fingertips press into the back of her thighs, and she pulls away, shocked at the feeling. harry was a touchy person, but he seemed like he knew his limits.

"you're getting a little too handsy," she warns. "don't piss me off and ruin our fun just yet."

he simply lifts his hands, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

"m'not trying to feel you up, just wanna make it a little easier f'you,” he kisses her chin. “and for me. that angle fucking sucked.”

she rolls her eyes, arms coming to drape around his neck. lynn's looking down at him now, and she lets her lips lightly brush across his face just to tease him. harry's lips are red and swollen, and she runs her thumb across them, smearing the saliva into his soft skin.

"they're looking," she whispers, looking over at the group of girls they were laying out by before.

"your family? that's kind of the whole point."

"no," she hums. "your new friends."

"yeah," harry rolls his eyes. "and they're watching me put my tongue in your mouth. jealousy is not a very good look on you, blondie."

lynn closes the space between them, actually kissing him with effort. she works his mouth just like he was doing to her minutes ago. she sucks and bites and presses their lips so hard together she thinks that they're going to be bruised in the morning.

she feels a little confident when she lets her hands slide into his hair, tugging just enough to pull his mouth away from hers. there's a groan in his throat when she does, and he tries best to hide it, but lynn's already heard it and now her fun was ruined.

"sorry, what's not a good look on me?"

"marry me," harry breathes out.

lynn laughs lightly, resting over his shoulder and wrapping her arms and legs around him tighter. she sighs, and harry runs his fingers along her back while his lips press into her hair.

"ready for our nap?"

"showers and then a nap," she corrects, silently thanking whatever god would listen that harry could let whatever just happened between them go just as quickly as she could. "im not letting you get the bed all sandy."

"whatever you want, honey," he hums, starting to walk out of the water with lynn still in his arms.

"don't call me that," she leans back to look at him, drawing her brows together like she was annoyed. really, she was fighting whatever urge came bubbling up in her throat that had her wanting to ask him to say it again.

"why not? you're sweet like honey."

"i miss when you hated me," lynn sighs, letting herself fall limp against him again.

"never hated you, lynn." she tries to ignore the way his words make her feel warm all over.

"c'mon," she lets her legs down, standing on the dry sand. "let's just grab our stuff and go. they'll think we're going to have crazy sex and it'll buy us a few hours of peace and quiet."

✮✮✮

lynn wakes up to harry moving her hair away from her face. he's propped up on his elbow, fingers brushing over her skin just as lightly as the way her name leaves his lips.

"hey," harry murmurs. "sleep good?"

"so good," she hums, turning on her side to face him. "please tell me you're not eating crackers in our bed."

"m'eating them on my side," he says. "want one?"

"no." she tries to suppress a yawn, arms coming up over her head to stretch. "c'mon. we've got dinner. make sure there's not a single crumb in these sheets."

the two share the bathroom as they get ready together. lynn braids her knotty hair away from her face while she watches with jealousy as harry does nothing but push a pair of sunglasses into his. when it's time to change, he graciously gives her the bathroom, and waits for her to invite him back in.

he comes in wearing a pair of khaki pants with a blue shirt tucked into them, and lynn feels incredibly underdressed. he always looked so proper and pulled together when they had something to do, meanwhile she always looked like she grabbed the first thing she could reach in her closet and didn’t have enough time to check herself in the mirror before leaving.

she had chosen a yellow sundress tonight. she thought it was cute and flowy when she had bought it a year ago, but now she can't help but think that the way some of the fabric stretches around her body has her resembling what she would assume a freshly plucked big bird would look like after working a grueling twelve hour shift in a sesame street high rise.

lynn's stepping back, fingers smoothing down the fabric when she catches harry's eyes in the mirror. he's got a mouth full of toothpaste and his face is pulled together. "y'look beautiful, lynn," he mumbles around his tooth brush. "always do."

she's not really convinced, but her cheeks warm nonetheless, and she pulls her eyes away from harry's before offering him a smile and the sincerest of thank yous.

lynn moves to the living room to wait for harry to finish up and spends the entire ten minutes debating if she should change. she loves the dress, and really, if she were wearing it anywhere but here, there would be no second thoughts about it. lynn just knew that whatever kathleen had to say about it would be forever etched in her brain and the dress would probably find its way into a goodwill pile when she got back.

harry joins her changed out of his perfect outfit. he's wearing a pair of shorter black shorts and the yellow button up he was wearing the other day instead.

lynn isn't really sure what to say or if she should say anything at all, but he only smiles at her before slipping his shoes on and asking if she's ready to go.

"why'd you'd change?" she caves when they're inside the restaurant.

he shrugs. "thought we could match. i don't know. i felt over dressed in what i had on."

she hums in response, and harry wraps his arm around her waist as they get closer to her family's table. she feels his fingers pinch the fabric at her waist, and then, "plus you look like sunshine in this dress. it would've been a crime to ask you to match my blue."

"oh, knock it off," she bumps her hip into his. "you're so corny today."

lynn expects him to knock her back with double the force, just like he did the first day she met him. instead, he only tugs her closer to him, muttering something about just how serious he is against the shell of her ear before pulling her chair out for her at the table.

"new dress?" kathleen speaks, and the way she's look at lynn makes her stomach twist.

harry only hums, fingers squeezing her shoulders as he stands behind her. "looks absolutely gorgeous, doesn't she, ms. kathy?"

aunt cece coos at the pair, pinching lynn's knee under the white tablecloth, and harry's got his lips pressed against her temple, ignoring jane's pleas begging him to sit next to her from the other end of the table. instead, he asks amelia to switch with him so he can sit with lynn, and the girl is more than happy to, considering that all lynn seems to do is piss her off with nothing but her presence. 

aunt cece starts up a conversation with the two, but lynn only keeps herself involved with perfectly timed hums of acknowledgement while harry does all of the talking. she felt bad, but all she could think about was the fact that the boy that reminds her of sunshine happens to think the same about her in her new favorite dress.

26 JULY 2018

lynn’s sitting next to harry in a lounger while her sisters play mermaids in the pool. usually, amelia would do absolutely anything to get out of the game, but it was jane’s birthday and it happened to be her only ask. lynn would have definitely offered to relieve her sister of her duties, but jane currently had amelia sitting on the ledge of the pool while she threw a ball at her, calling it mermaid hunting.

so instead, lynn happily sits with a book in one hand while her other hand lightly traces every line and crease on the back of harry’s, only picking up her finger when it’s time to turn the page. she started doing it just to annoy him, but harry didn’t seem to care. he only reclined his lounger a little and moved his hand to rest on lynn’s so she didn’t have to reach across them. 

lynn woke up this morning with harry’s face pressed against the crook of her neck and his palm resting against her abdomen. she’ll blame the next part on the fact that she was still half asleep, but she laid there with her eyes closed, soaking up every second of their closeness before harry woke up and gently pulled himself from her. she thought about mentioning the whole thing over their morning coffee, but she didn’t want him to think she was crazy for letting it happen and more importantly, she didn’t want to ruin the chances of that ever happening again.

she was touch deprived. sue her.

“do you want kids someday?” harry asks. he’s got his free arm over his forehead, blocking the sun from his eyes as he looks at lynn.

“probably not,” lynn answers honestly. “i’ve got these two.”

“but you don’t want any of your own?”

lynn pauses for a second before answering, letting her book fall against her chest. it wasn’t that she didn’t want kids of her own because there is definitely a small piece of her that sometimes daydreams of white picket fences and tiny hand prints on glass doors, but that small sliver is overshadowed by the overwhelming fear of not being good enough. she doesn’t really know how to say i’m scared i’ll never learn to love my children the same way my mother never loved me without ruining their sunny pool day.

so, instead she settles for a, “it’s not really important to me. what about you?”

harry shrugs. “dunno. i’ve never really thought about it until now. i think i’m still too young.”

lynn can’t help but laugh at him for saying he feels too young. nearing thirty had her feeling everything but that, and it was crazy how harry felt the opposite. 

he tilts his head to the side as she laughs, and lynn’s about to ask why he’s got that look on his face, but the ball jane has been throwing interrupts them, hitting harry right in the mouth.

“oh fuck,” harry curses under his breath.

"jane!" lynn sits up straight, practically screaming at the little girl. "you have got to be careful."

"it's okay, lynn,” harry’s words are muffled by his hand. “really, i’m fine.”

"what do you say to him?" her jaw is clenched and her fists are balled so tightly in her lap. if she were to open them, there’d be little moon indentations on the bottoms of her palms.

"i'm sorry, harry,” jane looks away when her voice wobbles. “i didn't mean to."

"i know, sunflower. it was an accident, wasn't it?" harry speaks so softly as he gently rolls the ball back to the little girl. lynn can’t understand how he wasn’t absolutely seething.

jane nods as her tears spill over and harry’s quick to tell her not to worry about it. accidents happen.

"let me see," her attention moves to harry, catching the crimson trail that started to flow down his chin. "oh, harry. let me clean that for you.”

she doesn’t give him time to respond before pulling him up by his elbow. lynn makes amelia swear to not let jane out of her sight before she leads harry all the way back to their condo. he sits on the arm of the chair in the living room and waits while lynn retrieves a rag and an ice cube from the freezer.

"i'm so sorry, harry," lynn's voice is soft, just like her touch is when her fingers brush under his chin, tilting it up to get a better look at his lip. 

“you didn’t have to yell at her like that, you know?” and she knew harry was right. the contrast between her tone with jane and her tone now was like night and day. she knew it was an accident, but she was nervous that harry would be upset with her for not scolding her sisters when they did something wrong.

harry winces when she adds a bit of pressure to the cut, and when lynn feels him move away from her, she has to blink back the tears that are threatening to spill over.

the last time she was here, lynn had brought her ex boyfriend. their relationship has already been hanging on by a thread, and she thought that a romantic beach getaway was exactly what they needed to save it.

and it worked for the first half of the trip. he was so affectionate towards her. so gentle. lynn felt so loved, and so incredibly safe.

then amelia spilled a cup of water on his lap, and he screamed at her in a way that had his chest heaving and face turning red. he was so upset with her and with lynn. the whole trip was ruined and lynn went to sleep nearly every night with a raspy voice and a raw throat from hours of consoling amelia and crying so hard she couldn't breathe.

"hey," he pulls on her waist, bringing her to sit on his knees. "i didn’t mean it like that. what's got you so worked up over this, hm?"

"i'm not worked up."

"lynn," harry's hand covers her own, rubbing his thumb across her knuckles as she keeps the ice pressed against his lip. "you're all teary eyed and you're breathing funny."

"you're bleeding, harry. i don't know how you're not raging."

"it was an accident," his hands move to wrap around her middle. "and she's six. i wouldn't really care if she did it on purpose either."

"yeah? you promise?"

"i promise, lynn." he's looking at her with such sincerity on his face, it makes her shoulders fall with relief.

“i guess i was just scared that you’d yell at her,” she admits. “i knew she’d take it better from me.”

“i didn’t know you thought so low of me.” she can’t tell if he’s being serious or only joking with her, but she can’t stop the corners of her mouth from turning upwards. that would have been low of him, and she’s glad he agrees. 

“forgive me,” she decides to turn it into the latter, a teasing smile on her face. “how can i ever make it up to you?”

"hm,” he bends his finger, signaling for her to lean closer. "maybe a kiss."

lynn quickly decides she doesn't want to point out the fact that her family was nowhere near them. they were alone, and knowing that made her want to kiss him even more. maybe a little part of her wished it was real.

so, she gives in, pressing her lips gently to the corner of his mouth. "feel better?"

"i think the doctor prescribed two.”

"you're pushing it, styles.”

"i know," the pad of his thumb ghosts over her lips. "just missing your mouth."

the words make her stomach turn in way that has her leaning down to kiss him again in hopes of hearing them again. lynn can’t help but wish harry’s lip wasn’t bleeding because she’d definitely let him explore every inch of her mouth with his own.

what had gotten into her?

"consider me healed,” he hums.

"you are," she swipes the ruined rag across his lip one more time for good measure. "no more bleeding."

✮✮✮

"this is so unfair to her," harry feels lynn's words against his shoulder. when he turns to look at her, she's got her eyes focused on jane who's messily eating the chocolate cake he had spent hours decorating to resemble a sunflower.

when he placed the cake in front of her, a huge grin spread across her face, and harry was certain her eyes were glowing brighter than the six candles placed in the center. she pressed her palms to her cheeks, and an excited squeal left her mouth, followed by a hundred 'i love it and i love you's.

"what is?"

"this," her hand moves between them. "us. she loves you, harry."

"everyone loves me," he jokes, but the way lynn's looking at him lets him know that she's not in a joking mood after all.

it’s no secret that harry has an incredibly hard time reading lynn. he failed calculus twice in college, but the course was a thousand times easier than figuring out just how she was feeling inside. she was normally cool and put together, only letting harry see through the cracks of the walls she had built up when everything became a little too much for her to handle.

being here must be hard for her because she lets him see more and more of her everyday. the lynn he met two months ago wouldn't have sat on his lap and cried because his lip was bleeding. no, she would've told him to grow the fuck up and take care of it himself.

now she's sharing an oversized chair with him, knees draped over his. her eyes are misty, and the corners of her mouth are turned upwards into a watery smile as she watches her family from across the patio. he felt so fucking terrible for her.

"i'm not going to be able to walk away from them the way you think i am," his voice is quiet, and he's rubbing soothing circles on her knee. "you shouldn't be worrying about things so far in the future anyway."

"we never talked about any of this stuff, harry," the intensity of her voice matches his, but it’s laced with urgency. almost like the thought of so many unanswered questions has her on the verge of panicking. "when are we going to break up? why are we even going to? how? what's going to happen when jane-"

"blondie, take a breath," he reaches to smooth her hair away from her face, thumbs stretching to wipe away the overflowing tears under her eyes. "we can decide all of that later. why don't we just have fun now?"

"because this is just going to hurt the two people i care about most."

"we'll stay friends," harry decides. "i'll say i realized i'm only attracted to men, and you can get all of the brownie points that come with loving me and supporting me through all of that."

"you're not just going to walk away when all of this is over?"

"of course not," and he wouldn’t dream of it, but he can’t help but think about the fact that if she were to have asked him a month ago, his answer would've been completely different. he's not sure exactly what changed, but harry would be more than a little sad if he never saw lynn again.

"good," she rests her forehead against his shoulder. "i don't think i could handle you going. i care about you too much."

"is that the four dirty martinis from dinner talking?"

"probably, but it’s true," she looks up at him, a smug smile growing on her face. "they’re also telling me that it would be a fantastic idea to have a little kiss right here in front of everyone.”

"oh, we most definitely can’t say no to that, can we?"

nearly every time they've kissed, they've simply just gone for it. maybe they'd warm up with a peck here and touch there, but within a matter of seconds, harry was sucking on lynn's lips like his life depended on it. to be honest, he really couldn't help it. her mouth was always so sweet.

this kiss was different though. lynn had leaned in to him, her fingers pressing into the back of neck to get him close enough to feel her exhales fanning across his mouth.

she stopped there though, not daring to move a centimeter closer for a moment. her eyes fell to his lips before slowly trailing back up to meet his eyes, and then she giggled in a way that sounded so light and happy, harry felt it deep in his stomach.

her lips brushed against his delicately, and he wasn't really sure if they were even there. 

"blondie-"

"you've got a bad lip, harry," and then there was another soft kiss. "gotta be gentle."

harry had every intention of listening to her because she was right. the last thing he wanted was for his stupid busted lip to start bleeding and ruin all of their fun. he thought that maybe they'd share a few short kisses and then join the rest of her family before going to bed for the night.

and that is exactly how it starts. there's a lazy kiss, and then two, and then lynn's pulling away to meet harry's eyes before wrapping both her arms around his neck. he's leaning against her with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other pushing deep into the arm of the chair to support all of their weight.

their kisses are long and eager, and he can feel the warmth from the pit in his stomach travel all the way up through his chest and out to his finger tips with each one. his palms are way too sweaty and it feels like his heart’s beating fast enough to push him through the last four hundred meters of a marathon. god, it's been forever since someone's made him feel this way.

the whole scene is definitely far too inappropriate to be occurring in front of lynn's entire family, but he can't seem to stop and neither can she. she's even greedy with it. every time harry pulls away to catch some air, she immediately follows, bringing his lips back to hers. her kisses are messy and frantic, but harry doesn't think he's ever had someone be so soft and easy with him in his entire life. 

lynn breaks the kiss, but she keeps her forehead pressed against harry's, holding him against her like she’s scared he’ll run away. she keeps her eyes closed for a second, and harry shamelessly uses it to let his eyes sweep across her face. her lips are red and messy and kissed, and her cheeks are flushed and pink, matching the warmth radiating from her body. 

with a heavy breath, she looks up at him with her big, blue eyes, and the sight would definitely have harry collapsing at his knees if he were standing up right. he can feel the way her chest heaves against his own. the way her fingers slide from his neck to his shoulders. the little puffs of air that come from her when she giggles again. he was so fucked.

“fun, wasn’t it?”

"lynn," it's breathy. he really isn't sure how to word it, so he pauses for a moment, scanning her face for any indication that what’s sitting on the tip of his tongue will ruin the relationship they worked so hard on building. "i-"

"there's the birthday girl," both of their heads shoot up to see silas standing near the staircase to the patio with a duffle bag at his feet and a stack of neatly wrapped presents in his hand.

lynn jumps up to greet him, and silas rushes to her in a manner that seems a little more than friendly. he wraps his free arm around lynn's waist just like harry had been doing seconds prior, and lifts her off her feet to spin her in a circle.

"and my favorite girl," his voice is low and meant for only lynn to hear, but the words fall on harry’s ears, too.

harry watches as lynn grins and wraps herself around silas's arm before dragging him to the rest of her family. jane squeals, her sunflower cake long forgotten just like harry was in the garden chair. the entire family crowds around silas, hugging him and kissing his cheeks, and harry knew that no matter how many times lynn curled up in his lap with tears welling up in her eyes, he would never be able to compare to silas. 

✰✰✰✰✰

a/n: okaaay all reformatted :D part five will be posted sunday! (maybe monday)

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Honestly akumatization was turned into a joke at this point. Cause in the first 3 and half seasons it was treated as a corruption that was almost impossible to resist/break free of. Only incredibly strong willed like Chloe, Alya and Felix managed to do it. But by S5 they literally had Alix's Reddit conspirator brother, an AI and the teacher break free from the akumatization even easier than the previously much more plot important characters. At this point literally everyone except Adrien are capable of shrugging off an akumatization whenever they want to, even the literal background characters.

Also they had Kagami get akumatized over Lila's lies about Marinette and break free through the power of friendship ... just to then have Kagami get akumatized over Lila's lies about Marinette AGAIN but this time not even being able to break free, like what even was the point of that previous akumatization if you were just gonna have her character regress from it.

Every time someone breaks free of an akuma, I die a little inside because it's just such terrible writing on so many levels as you rightly pointed out.

The one that really gets me is the power of love one. Chat Blanc kind of worked back when we thought akumas couldn't be escaped. It was still a terrible idea to have any reality where Adrien could kill Marinette after they'd started dating, but at least it did kind of fit the lore.

Now that basically anyone can resist an akuma? I can not think of a better way to foreshadow the love square not being the end game than to have Adrien completely fail to overcome an akuma when the supposed love of his life was on the line. And then they repeated the issue in Ephemeral! Writers, is the power of love a joke to you? I really don't get how anyone can enjoy those episodes while shipping the square or why the writers ever thought they were good ideas.