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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BELOVED - Part Five (Harry Styles)

a/n: ahh idk why but writing this part took me forever! but its finally here and i can’t wait to see your thoughts on it! i was debating for a long time if part 5 should be the last one, but then i decided to add another part, bc there are two more things i want to include in the story and i couldn’t squeeze them into this part, it’s already the longest so far, so we have one more part left of the story! also, a little warning that part 6 might take a little longer than the prev parts bc im a little behind with my schedule but it’ll try my best!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce, sexual content

word count: 12k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

You’ve been feeling like a teenager sneaking around her parents these past weeks. Only that you’re an adult and the parent you are trying to keep your secret romance hidden from is a four year old little girl.

Your birthday was a turning point in your evolving relationship with Harry. Like a wall has been brought down and he finally started reaching out to you. It feels like with every passing day you’re getting closer to him and you can see the progress he’s been making thanks to his therapy sessions and how much he is trying to make a change himself as well.

Stolen kisses and tiny touches have been a usual in your every days whenever Izzy was out of sight for the shortest second. You’ve realized that Harry is an affectionate person, he likes to keep you close and he never fails to bring passion into the tiniest kisses.

With Izzy around 24/7 it’s been hard to find time when it’s just the two of you, but you’ve been waking up early in the morning just to spend that twenty minutes alone with Harry while he drinks his coffee. Sometimes you just sit in silence, trying to wake up for the day ahead of you but sometimes he talks your ears off about anything and everything. In the evening, when Izzy is already sleeping the two of you usually wind off together in the living room or watch a movie in the entertainment room, just enjoying some alone time. It’s not much, but more than nothing and you’ve grown very fond of these little moments with him.

Nothing more has happened than just kissing. Despite the progress Harry has made so far you can tell he still has quite a few conflicts buried deep inside him and you definitely don’t want to rush him into anything he is not ready for. Some cuddling on the couch or short but passionate make out sessions in a corner while Izzy is not paying attention, you haven’t gone further than this.

Now it’s the last day before Izzy leaves to Harry’s mum for the week. He is dropping her off Sunday afternoon and it will leave the two of you alone for seven full days. Well, Harry still has to work during the day, but from the moment he’ll get home, it’s just gonna be you and him.

You had to make a few phone calls so you’ve been locked in your room for a while now. When you come down you find your favorite father-daughter duo on the couch, some kind of Barbie movie playing on the TV, but Izzy is busy with something else. She’s got her water based flooring pens scattered around her, Harry’s tattooed arm laying across her lap as she is coloring the patterns as if it was her favorite coloring book. Before they could notice you, you run back to your room and grab your polaroid camera and returning you snap a picture of the adorable scene. The shutter of the camera makes Harry’s head snap in your way, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Hey,” he softly greets you. You put the camera and the photo aside to the cupboard near you before joining them on the couch.

“Hi Y/N! Look!” Izzy beams happily, pointing at Harry’s ship tattoo that is now fully colored with yellows, pinks and blues.

“It looks better this way,” you smirk down at her before your eyes meet with Harry’s over her head, smiling at you softly.

Making yourself comfortable next to them, you watch Izzy work on more of his tattoos and you find it such a heartwarming scene, you want to remember it forever. Harry Styles, such an influential, successful and serious businessman, sitting on the couch in his loungewear while his daughter is using his tattooed skin as her personal coloring book. He really is a wonderful human being and the best dad to his daughter.

“Y/N, do you have any tattoos?” Izzy asks, turning to you with curious eyes.

“I actually do,” you answer and you see Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“You really do?” he asks, his head resting on the back of the couch, turned to face you.

“Yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

“Where?” Izzy asks perking up at the new information.

“Um, it’s right here,” you tell her pointing at the side of your hips, covered with your sweatpants.

“Can I color them?” she asks innocently, but Harry is quick to react.

“Izzy, you’re being a little too nosy,” he warns her as always, and she looks at you with a pouty look.

“It’s fine. Um, yeah, you can color it,” you nod.

Sliding lower on the couch you roll down the waistband of your pants until the tattoo is revealed on the side. You catch Harry’s eyes wander over the skin you are now showing and you can see a slight blush tinting his cheeks. He hasn’t seen this part of your body uncovered yet, he hasn’t even seen you in a bathing suit so far so it’s quite the new thing.

(reference for the tattoo)

The tattoo on your side is a simple yet meaningful one, dedicated to the special bond you and Trevor share. It’s a minimalistic yet beautiful piece of two koi fishes swimming in a circle, one is left blank as while the other one is black so their formation resembles the yin-yang symbol. You got it when you turned twenty, when Trevor was just in middle school, but he promised you he would get the same design when he turns eighteen that will happen in the fall.

“That looks beautiful,” Harry breathes out with a shy smile and you notice how he doesn’t ask about the meaning behind it. Not because he is not curious but because he is insanely respectful and he doesn’t want to ask something that’s too personal.

“Thanks,” you smile at him as Izzy grabs her pens and starts coloring the blank fish.

The rest of the day goes by uneventfully, Harry is clearly trying to spend as much time with Izzy as possible before her week with his mother, but you also notice that he seems to be keeping something away from you, like he is trying to bring up something but he is not entirely sure how to start the conversation.

It’s not until Izzy is put to bed that he joins you on the couch, turning to you with a serious expression on his handsome face.

“What’s up?” you ask with a soft chuckle.

“I was thinking…”

“I could see that,” you tease him, giving his knee a playful squeeze. “I’m listening.”

“Actually there are two things I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not sure which one to ask first.” He purses his lips before sighing and moving his eyes to meet your curious gaze. “So we’re gonna be alone for the next week.”

“Mhm.”

“And I thought that… if you want to, but we don’t have to, it was just an idea—so feel free to—“

“Harry,” you cut his stuttering off, moving closer with a reassuring smile. You caress the side of his face and you notice how you lean into your touch, breathing out through his nose. “Don’t be nervous, alright? Just tell me what’s been on your mind.”

“Would you go out on a date with me?” he then asks and it’s the purest thing you’ve ever seen and heard from him. The hopeful but still nervous look in his eyes makes him appear like a little boy who is asking out his first crush in middle school, afraid of rejection, when that’s the last thing he has to think about when it comes to you, but it’s still cute.

“I would love to,” you smile at him and leaning closer you peck his lips softly. “And what’s the other thing you wanted to ask?”

“Well, I’m driving Izzy over to my mum’s early in the morning and I’m staying for lunch and… if you don’t feel like it’s too much, you could… maybe come with us.”

“You want me to meet your mum?” you ask surprised.

“Well, she wants to meet you as well, but I want you to meet her, yes,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. “Gemma has told her about you and my sister likes to be nosy so she might have added a little spice into the story about us when nothing was really going on.”

“Oh my, what does she think?” you ask with wide eyes.

“Nothing bad, don’t worry,” he assures you quickly. “She just made it seem like we are… dating and all,” he adds with a nervous smile. “But I told her that it’s… I mean that we are not there… yet.”

“Oh, okay. Well, if you really want me there, I would love to go with you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would love to meet your mum.”

“I was afraid you’d find it a little early for this,” he admits truthfully and you can see that rationality in his thought. “We haven’t really… discussed what we are and I didn’t want to put the pressure on you.”

“Well, do you want to talk about us?” you ask softly, giving him the chance to decline if he feels like the conversation might be a little too much for him.

“I do, but I’m not sure… what to say,” he hums, knitting his eyebrows together. Last time I had this talk I was in my early twenties and I don’t even know how to start,” he chuckles shaking his head.

“Okay, then let’s just agree on some things,” you suggest and he eyes you curiously. “Neither of us is seeing anyone else, right?”

“Is that even a question in my situation?” he snorts, making a joke out of his issues clearly and you’re happy he is able to take it so lighthearted.

“Just clearing the air,” you chuckle. “So we are…exclusive.”

“Seems like it,” he nods.

“And you just asked me out on a date,” you point another detail out.

“I did. And you said yes,” he smiles, an excited shine in his eyes glimmering through his green irises.

“Yeah. So we can say we are dating? Seeing each other?” Harry chews on the terms you offered, tastes them before nodding slowly.

“I guess we could say that.”

“Okay. So… that’s what we are,” you smile at him, giving his knee another squeeze. This time, his hand finds yours and he runs his thumb across your knuckles.

“I think… I’m okay with that,” he breathes out and though it’s seemingly such an insignificant thing, you know how huge steps he has just taken forward.

“I liked the blue one better. With the white sweater,” Heather hums, watching you through the video call. You have your phone propped up on your dresser as you’re trying to figure out what to wear today.

Though you seemed completely unbothered last night when Harry invited you along with them, but now you can feel the slight panic. It’s not even because you and Harry are a thing now, you’d feel this way if you met his mother just as Izzy’s nanny. Grandmothers can be so protective over their grandchildren, you’ve met with quite a few problematic ones while you were working at the daycare and you just want Anne to like you, to trust you with Izzy as much as Harry does.

“Okay, blue it is then,” you sigh, pulling the yellow sundress off of yourself before putting the blue one back with a white sweater.

“So you guys are now official?” Heather grins at you through the screen. “Meeting his mother and all that?”

“Define being official,” you chuckle softly.

“Like, boyfriend-girlfriend?”

“Not yet. But we agreed to be exclusively dating.”

“I still can’t fucking believe that you’re scoring the hottest dad I’ve ever seen. You lucky bitch,” she sighs, sipping on her morning coffee.

“Me neither,” you scoff.

“I’m pretty sure if the mothers who got you fired knew, they would explode. Basically every woman was in love with the man and now you are the lucky woman actually getting him.”

“I guess this is karma for what they did,” you chuckle shrugging. “Alright, I gotta go, because we are leaving soon, but I’ll talk to you soon.”

“You better be! I want a detailed essay about how it went!” she grins, kissing the camera.

“Alright, bye!” you smile before ending the call.

When you get downstairs, Harry and Izzy are already down there, Harry is zipping up her bag while she is dancing around humming to herself.

“Baby, your backpack is still in your room. Can you please get it?” Harry asks her, Izzy nods and runs towards you, stopping in front of you.

“Hi Y/N! I like your dress!” she beams at you.

“Hi! Well thank you!” you smile at her before she runs past you up the stairs. “Hey,” you greet Harry and his eyes snap up to you, his pink lips stretching into a warm smile as he leans closer and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“Hi. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you. So, any tips for meeting your mum for the first time?” you ask, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. Harry reaches out and takes your hands between his so he stops the motion.

“You don’t need tips. I know my mum will like you, she is already so excited to meet you, so don’t worry.”

“If you say so,” you breathe out.

Harry puts Izzy’s stuff in the Rover and soon buckles her into her seat before the three of you hit the road. Harry has a whole playlist for Izzy’s favorite songs so you obviously listen to that along with Izzy’s performance of all the songs, filled with misheard lyrics, but that’s what makes it even better. The car ride is about three hours, which is not that horrible. You need just one bathroom break sometime in the middle and Izzy sleeps through the last hour in the car, allowing the two of you to finally listen to music that’s not from a kids’ show.

“Do you have a song request?” you smile over at him, scrolling through his phone since it’s the one connected to the car, but he has given you permission to play whatever you like.

“Not really.”

“You don’t have songs you like to listen to in the car?”

“Not specifically. Do you?”

“Oh, I have a whole playlist for songs to blast in the car,” you chuckle.

“Really? And what songs are on it?”

“Well, I can just show you.”

You search up your user on Spotify and find the playlist in talk before putting it on shuffle. As the first song starts to play, you peek over at him to see his reaction and you spot the smirk on his lips.

“Black Eyed Peas?” he asks glancing at you shortly.

“Yeah, you don’t like them?” you smirk at him.

“I do, I just didn’t think you listen to them,” he admits with a soft chuckle.

“Are you kidding me? They give me the biggest nostalgia! I listened to them so much as a teenager.”

“So teenage Y/N gave a concert in her bedroom, singing I Gotta Feeling?” he teases you grinning.

“Not just a concert, a whole world tour.”

There’s a short silence, just the two of you listening to the song, you watch the trees and fields rush by you as you drive down the country road. The song changes to another one and you’ve already forgotten about what you talked about, but apparently not Harry.

“What were you like as a teenager?” he asks. You turn to face him and your eyes meet for a second.

“Um, like a normal teenager,” you shrug, not sure what to say.

“There’s no such thing as a normal teenager,” Harry smiles. “What did you do, what were your favorite things?”

“I was… pretty plain, if I might say. I wasn’t a rebel or too much of a geek either. I had like three good friends, we used to hang out a lot by the little lake near our neighborhood, that was like our spot. I liked going on hikes and I watched a lot of documentaries,” you admit with a small smile.

“What kind?”

“I don’t know, anything that was on,” you shrug. “My mom had this phase where she was trying to act like she was just like all the other mom’s from my school, but they were all at least a decade older than her. She was trying to prove that she was this mature, very serious woman who had her shit together and all that.”

“And she didn’t?” Harry asks peeking at you shortly.

“I mean, she did. She turned thirty when I was twelve. Most women barely just got married and started their family at that age but she had been married for eight years and had a middle schooler and a baby already. She really was mature but I could tell that she felt like she lost her twenties because of… me.”

Sighing you think back to the years when you often felt like a burden to your mom. She gave up a lot of things just to give you the life she imagined for you. She worked her ass off to raise you and later Trevor as well, have a career and do all the works around the house. Your dad was working a lot of night shifts, there were entire weeks when you barely even saw him. You don’t blame him, he was trying to provide for his family, but it’s pretty clear he and your mother grew cold over the years and it had a huge part in it.

“Do you… blame yourself for it?” Harry asks softly.

“No,” you shake your head. “It’s not like I had anything to do with being born,” you chuckle. “I just didn’t like seeing my mom struggle so much. So when Trevor was born I was trying to take over a lot of tasks around the house and with him as well. I babysat him a lot, took care of him in the mornings, I picked him up from daycare and later from school… I tried to make it easier for my parents.”

“So this is why you grew so close with him?”

“I guess so,” you nod. “I mean, I surely spent the most time with him,” you add with a short chuckle.

“And do you think this is why you’re so good with kids?”

“What is this, a therapy session?” you ask arching an eyebrow at him, but he just rolls his eyes.

“Just… trying to get to know you. Is that a problem?”

“No, I just… I’m not used to talking about myself so much. It’s been quite a few years since I’ve been in this… talking stage,” you admit with a sigh. “But to answer your question, it might have had some impact on me. I mean, I loved taking care of Trevor. It’s like I had my own baby doll, only that it wasn’t just a toy, it was a real baby I could play with.”

“Did you play dress up with him?” Harry smirks at you.

“I did,” you admit laughing. “I used to dress him as a princess a lot and he seemed to like it! My dad wasn’t really a fan of it.”

For the rest of the ride you listen to your playlist and talk about not just your but Harry’s past too. He tells you about his friends, what he was like in school and the mischiefs he did growing up, that drove his mum crazy sometimes. As you get to his hometown and he points out different places he used to go to when he was younger, you feel so much closer to him, like you’ve just gotten to see another piece of him that was hidden before.

He pulls up to the driveway of a simple townhouse and as you get out of the car you see the front door open and a woman rushes out, squealing in excitement as she runs up to Harry and hugs him tightly.

“Finally! I was starting to get worried!” she breathes out, rocking the two of them to left and right.

“Mum, don’t be dramatic. I texted you when we left and we got here perfectly in time,” Harry chuckles, holding his mum tight.

“You barely just arrived and you’re already picking on me? Typical,” Anne rolls her eyes, letting go of him. You round the car, feeling nervous to meet her. When her eyes finally fall on you, her smile grows even wider as she takes a step closer to you. “And you must be Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you!” she beams, pulling you into a warm hug as well.

“Nice to meet you too,” you chuckle, hugging her back.

“I’m Anne, but I listen to all versions of mum and grandma,” she tells you chuckling.

“Alright, noted,” you nod smiling.

Harry opens the car door of the backseat and unbuckles Izzy who has already woken up from her little nap and the moment her feet are on the ground she runs up to Anne.

“Grams!” She giggles before throwing herself into Anne’s arms who picks her up happily.

“Hi baby, you grew so much! I missed you!” she sighs as the little girl cuddles into her neck.

“Missed you too, Grams. I brought my new toys, do you want to play with them?”

“Of course! We’ll have all the time to play this week,” Anne smiles down at her. “Alright, come on in. Lunch is almost ready.”

Harry grabs Izzy’s things from the car and you all head inside. The house smells good from the cooking food in the kitchen and it’s such a cozy home, you can definitely see Harry growing up here. Above the fireplace in the living room there are a bunch of photos framed on the wall, most of them are from Harry and Gemma, but there are some more of other relatives as well, cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents. It seems like Harry has a big family.

Harry unpacks Izzy’s stuff in her room that used to be Gemma’s apparently, he is telling Anne all about everything she needs to know about Izzy’s routines and she is listening patiently, though you’re sure she is more than capable of taking care of her. After all, she raised two amazing children already.

While Izzy shows Anne all her toys she’s brought with herself, Harry takes your hand and pulls you out of the room just to go into another one. Walking in you immediately realize that it must have been his once upon a time.

“You know, I can see your younger version in here, the one I saw in the photos downstairs,” you smirk at him, looking around. There are some old posters and pictures still littering the walls, stickers are covering the side of his wardrobe and dresser, some of them are partially ripped off already, he probably tried to get rid of them once he got older, but miserably failed.

“Yeah? I was pretty cute, right?” he smirks, so full of himself.

“I liked the curly Justin Bieber hairstyle,” you tease him and he gives you an “are you for real?!” look to which you just start laughing.

“Justin Bieber had nothing on me.”

“Yeah, sure,” you laugh before he grabs your hand and pulls you against his chest, wrapping his arms around you. “Your mum is in the next room,” you whisper against his lips as he leans down, teasing you with them just lingering on yours.

“So what? You never sneaked around your parents before?” he smirks down at you.

“I did,” you admit.

“Oh, nasty,” he comments before finally kissing you. However it doesn’t last long, because you hear footsteps coming from outside so you’re quick to move away from each other, just in time when Anne walks in.

“Lunch will be ready in a few, would you two mind setting the table?” she smiles, oblivious what was happening just a moment ago.

“Sure,” Harry nods, rubbing his nose as his other hand finds your waist and he ushers you out of the room.

Izzy helps Anne in the kitchen while you and Harry take care of the table. When everything is done you all sit down and start the feast Anne was so kind to make for you. It doesn’t take long to see the snickering but loving dynamic between Harry and his mother. Anne likes to pick on her son, call him out for basically anything and though Harry talks back, he mostly just lets her tear him to pieces. With love, of course.

“Izzy, please don’t get whipped cream all over the place!” Harry sighs when it’s time for dessert. Anne has made apple pie, one of Izzy’s favorites and she is going generous with the cream on top of her slice.

“You didn’t have problem getting cream all over you when we were making cupcakes, daddy!” Izzy sasses back, making both you and Harry drop your jaws while Anne starts laughing at her boldness.

“That was an entirely different situation, Izzy,” Harry shakes his head as he helps her with the scream before passing it over to you.

“Grams, you should have been there! Daddy, Y/N and I made a mess in the kitchen, but daddy started it!” Izzy giggles, digging into the pie.

“Is that so?” Anne smirks.

“We were just… playing,” Harry explains.

“Oh, I know how you can get when you’re just playing,” Anne chuckles. “Y/N, how do you put up with two kids in the house?”

“I used to deal with fifteen at the same time, so two is not a trouble,” you smirk at Harry who just rolls his eyes, but you see the hiding little smile on his lips.

After lunch Izzy insists on showing you the dollhouse Anne has set up for her in the backyard while Harry helps his mum with the cleaning up.

“We both know your sister likes to exaggerate stories, so I didn’t believe everything she said about you and Y/N,” Anne speaks up as she is washing the dishes and Harry is on drying duty.

“I’m glad you don’t fall for Gemma’s vivid imagination.”

“But there’s one thing she got right.”

“And what would that be?” Anne turns the tap off as she faces Harry, sighing in relief as she smiles at him.

“That you look happy.”

Harry opens his mouth to say something, but then just closes it. He does feel happy, even if he is still struggling to accept it. Anne dries her hands and reaching up she cups Harry’s face in her palms.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you like this for a long time. And I know you think you don’t deserve to feel this way, but you do. And Y/N makes you happy, clearly.”

“Mum…”

“No, honey, just… listen to me, okay?” she asks and he nods, giving all his attention to his mother. “It broke my heart to see you so… lost after what happened to Maggie. And I know that it was the hardest thing you ever had to go through, but you need to move on. She would want you to do the same thing.”

“How do you know, mum? You didn’t even like Maggie when I first brought her home,” Harry points out mumbling under his breath.

“That doesn’t change the way you felt about her. I know you loved her and I would have never wanted anything to happen to her. She made you happy and that’s all that mattered to me,” she smiles with a tired sigh. “And I just want you to be happy again. Whatever you two have going on… don’t let go of it, alright? She is making you happy and you deserve that.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just nods before Anne pulls him into a tight, motherly hug that he returns gladly.

“I’m trying, mum. I’m trying,” he whispers into her hair, giving her a squeeze before letting go of her.

You stay a little longer, Anne makes you tea and Harry soaks in the last minutes with Izzy before he is forced to be away from her. You know he is looking forward to spending some time away from his daddy duties, but it’s clear that he’ll miss her terribly too.

“Alright, baby. Be good and I’ll call Grams to talk to you every day, okay?” Harry tells her, giving her one last hug. Izzy wraps her arms around his neck tightly, her face squished into his neck.

“Okay, daddy. I love you,” she mumbles with a pouty look.

“I love you too. Have a good time with Grams.”

“Thank you for everything, Anne,” you tell her, giving her a quick hug.

“Oh, you’re welcome. It was so nice to meet you,” she smiles, feeling a little touched by the goodbye. “Come back soon!”

“I will, thank you.” “Bye mum, call me if anything comes up,” Harry tells her, hugging her as well.

“We’ll be alright, don’t worry. Tell Mitch and Sarah that I wish them the best!” Anne smiles as you and Harry head out the door.

“I will! Bye!”

Izzy stands at the front door with Anne, waving after you as Harry backs out of the driveway and eventually, they are out of your sight.

Harry falls silent and you don’t have to be a genius to know that he is already missing Izzy. You can imagine what it feels like to not see her every day like he always does, when he is so used to having her around all the time.

“You alright?” you softly ask, giving his arm a short squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s just… It’s the third time I’m doing this, but it never gets easier. The first year we did it I ended up driving up here four times that week,” he admits with a chuckle.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal to miss her.”

“I know, it just makes me emotional,” he admits, flashing you a short smile before he turns his gaze back at the road ahead of him.

The drive back home is a lot quieter than the way to Anne’s. You play some music again and Harry hums to it sometimes, but he is mostly just deep in his thoughts and you don’t want to bother him, knowing well he probably needs some time to settle with the thought of an entire week without Izzy.

You get some takeout for dinner before arriving home and eat together before putting on a movie to watch in the entertainment room. One movie turns into another and before you could realize it, you’re dosed off on the comfy couch, cuddled to Harry’s side near midnight.

When you wake up something entirely different is playing on the screen since the original movie has ended long ago. Harry is passed out, his head resting against the back of the couch, one arm curled around your shoulders while the other is resting on his stomach. Rubbing your eyes you check the time and decide it’s better if you both just go to bed before you end up spending the night on the couch.

“Hey… H,” you softly caress his cheek before you brush his unruly curls back from his forehead. He scrunches his nose adorably before his eyes flutter open, taking in his surroundings. “We fell asleep. Why don’t we call it a night?” you ask in a soft whisper. Harry sighs, nodding his head, squeezing you to his side before his arm falls from around your shoulders. You peck his cheek before pushing yourself up from the couch. He shuts the TV off and the two of you head upstairs. For your surprise, his hand finds yours on the way up the stairs, lacing his fingers together with yours.

You pad your way up to the second floor and walking past Izzy’s room Harry stops for just a heartbeat before he follows you down the hallway. When you’re about to let go of his hand to head into your own bedroom, Harry pulls you back gently, making you look at him with slight confusion.

“Do you… Maybe you could… sleep at mine, if you want to? Just a thought…” he breathes out, clearly nervous to speak what’s been on his mind.

“I would love to, but only if you’re sure about it.”

“I’m sure. It would be nice to… wake up next to you,” he adds with a shy smile and you notice how he didn’t say waking up next to anyone, he wants you to be there.

“Alright. Why don’t we both just go and shower separately and then I’ll come back to yours?” you offer, giving his hand a squeeze. Harry nods and leaning down he places a chaste kiss to your lips before letting go of your hand, going your separate ways.

After doing your usual nighttime routine you put on a pair of soft pajama pants and a simple shirt before heading back to Harry’s bedroom. The door is slightly open, the lights are still on. You knock on the door before pushing it open carefully. You’ve only been in here a handful of times and it’s strange to come here with the intention of staying.

Harry is standing by his dresser in a pair of sweatpants and a white shirt, his hair is slightly damp from his shower. As his eyes fall on your figure a small smile tugs on his lips before he glances towards the bed.

“Which… which side do you like sleeping on?” he asks and you can’t hold back a chuckle as you walk to the side that’s clearly not used by him usually.

Harry huffs with a smile before going to his side. You put your phone to the nightstand before getting under the covers, making yourself comfortable in Harry’s silky sheets. He sits to the edge of the bed, checks something on his phone before dropping it to his nightstand and he then joins you under the covers.

It’s a tiny bit awkward at first, neither of you really finding your place in such a new situation, so at first you just lie on your sides facing each other. Harry is clearly about to say something, he is just looking for the right words, so you give him all the time he needs.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he softly speaks up. “Not just because… I would be awfully lonely now without Izzy,” he adds with a cheeky chuckle. “I meant it generally. I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“I’m happy to be here too. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you smile at him. Breathing out through his nose he closes his eyes for a few seconds before his green irises meet yours again. Leaning closer he kisses you softly, just another way to tell you the same thing he just said with his words a moment ago. Pulling back he settles his head on the pillow and he pulls you into his arms, making you cuddle to his side similar to the way you fell asleep on the couch earlier.

“Good night, Y/N,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Good night, Harry,” you hum back, nuzzling your face into his shoulder, making yourself comfortable in his strong arms.

Harry grumbles lowly when his phone’s alarm goes off in the morning. He might be off from his daddy duties this week, but he is still the CEO of his company and work is calling his name. Sometime during the night the two of you got tangled up in each other. Unlike last night, now Harry is the one snuggled up to you, his heavy arm lying across your stomach, his legs mingled with yours under the sheets as you gently scratch his scalp with one hand, running the other up and down his arm across your stomach. You’re not gonna lie, waking up in a bed with Harry is far more blissful and satisfying than you imagined. Even early in the morning he has such an aura that sweeps you off your feet, the man was surely crafted by the gods.

“You’re gonna be late,” you hum, eyes still closed when he hits the snooze button and snuggles back to you.

“It’s set to when I have to get Izzy ready. We still have some time,” he mumbles against the fabric of your shirt.

You stay in bed a little longer until it really is time to get up. Harry’s morning form is so soft yet still breathtaking, even with his hair tousled and his puffy eyes, he still looks gorgeous and you find it slightly unfair how little effort the man needs to be this perfect.

Harry heads to take a shower and in the meantime you decide to start making breakfast while the coffee is brewing.

“Oh you shouldn’t have,” Harry breathes out with a thankful smile when he arrives downstairs and sees the almost ready breakfast and the smell of coffee hits his nose.

“I have all the time in the world this week,” you chuckle as you fill a plate with eggs and veggies before you slide it over to him on the kitchen island. You fix a plate for yourself as well and join him on the stool beside him.

“So… are you still up for the date?” Harry asks shyly, glancing over at you.

“Didn’t really change my mind since yesterday,” you chuckle.

“Would you be up to do it today?”

“So, eager, huh?” you tease him, nudging him with your shoulder and he just shyly shrugs, trying to push down his smile. “Today works fine for me. What do you have in mind?”

“I’m not ruining the surprise,” he smirks at you, sipping on his coffee.

“Alright, then just tell me the dress code.”

“Wear that lilac dress you wore to that birthday party the other week.”

You know exactly what dress he is talking about, but it stuns you that he actually remembers what you wore two weeks ago. He only saw you for a few minutes before you left, yet he still remembered the dress.

“Alright,” you smile to yourself before turning back to your breakfast.

Though you have a few extra sessions booked for the week, your Monday stayed empty and without Izzy roaming around the house you have to realize that you can easily get bored without her. You got so used to being with her all day long that now being home on your own is so weird.

You spend the first half of the day lounging at the pool, something you’ve been dying to do, but you were too busy with a certain little girl. Then you have a nice lunch and after reading the book you’ve been putting away for weeks, you realize that you’ve run out of things to do. So you text Trevor if he wants a ride home after school and of course he does, so after fixing yourself up you drive down to his school.

“Hi there, how was your day?” you ask when he sits into the car, throwing his backpack to the backseat before he buckles himself up as you back out of the parking spot.

“Fantastic, as always!” he fake cheers, making you laugh.

“Want to get ice-cream?”

“You know I always want ice-cream,” he snorts smirking at you.

You haven’t met Trevor ever since things become kind of… romantic between you and Harry, and you didn’t want to tell him over the phone, so now is the perfect time to break him the news. When the two of you are sitting on the terrace of your favorite ice-cream place, your paper cup filled with chocolate and strawberry ice-cream while he chose mango and cookie dough, you finally start the conversation.

“So, I have news for you.”

“Oh my God,” he breathes out, closing his eyes for a second. “Are you leaving the country?”

“What? No! Why do you think that?”

“I don’t know, but last time you said you had news for me you moved out from home. Figured it might be something similar,” he shrugs, returning to his ice-cream.

“Well, no, I’m not leaving the country.”

“Okay, then what is it?”

“I’m kind of… dating Harry. You know, my boss.” You have no idea why you felt the need to add the last part when he has already met him, but you feel a bit nervous. Trevor is like your best friend and he had a bad feeling about Keith when you started dating him, but you ignored it. If he has a similar feeling about Harry now, you are definitely considering them this time.

“Oh!” his eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean kind of?”

“Well, we haven’t had our first date yet, it’s happening tonight, but things have… changed.”

“So you slept with him?”

“No, I haven’t,” you chuckle nervously. “We kissed. A few times and… we talked about where it’s heading and we both think it’s going to turn into something… more serious.”

“That’s great!” he smiles at you and it seems completely genuine. “See, I told you it’s gonna happen sooner or later,” he smirks coyly, before he licks his spoon off.

“You were just drawing random assumptions because of his looks and wealth, Trevor. But it’s not about that.”

“Oh, I know you’re not a gold digger,” he teases you, making you roll your eyes at him. “So your first date is tonight? What are you guys doing?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t tell me,” you shrug with a small smile.

“Mysterious,” Trevor wiggles his eyebrows at you. “So he is finally ready to get back on the dating scene, huh?”

“Um, he is working on it. It’s a little hard for him, but he’s been changing for the better.” “That’s great. I’m happy for you,” he smiles at you. “Really, you deserve it after that asshole.”

“Yeah, I hope it’ll go well,” you smile back at him with a sigh before you return to your ice-cream.

After dropping Trevor off at one of his friends you head back home. For your surprise, Harry’s car is already parked on the driveway with another one that doesn’t belong to him when you pull up and walking in you find him with Niall in the kitchen.

“Oh, hi boys!” you greet them.

“Y/N! You are stunning as always!” Niall beams, pulling you into a tight hug right away.

“Thanks,” you chuckle patting his back. “What are you guys up to?”

They share a look and it tells you right away you are not supposed to know whatever they were talking about so you just nod smiling.

“Alright, got it,” you chuckle.

“How was your day?” Harry asks, hoping to change the subject smoothly.

“Great! Met with Trevor, just dropped him off.”

“Oh, how is he doing?”

“He is fine, struggling a little with math lately, but he is doing great,” you chuckle.

“So you have a brother. Do you happen to have a sister, maybe?” Niall asks with a coy smile and while Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, you can’t help but laugh.

“Sorry, no,” you tell him the bad news. “But… I have a good friend and I think you’d like her.”

“A friend? Do you have a picture of her?” Niall beams, already excited about it. Pulling your phone out you show him a picture of you and Heather so he can have a good look at her. You actually think that Heather and Niall would be a good match, she might even be the girl Niall would give up his bachelor life finally.

“When are we having a double date?” he simply asks, making you and Harry laugh at the same time.

“I’ll see what I can do for you.” You let the boys finish whatever they were doing before you arrived so you go to your room, unwinding a little before you have to start getting ready for the date. Around five there’s a soft knock on your door and as you call out, Harry pops his head inside.

“Hi,” he smiles nervously as the rest of his body walks into your sight.

“Hi!” you smile back, putting your book to the side.

“I just realized I never told you the time when you should be ready tonight,” he chuckles nervously. “Is six good for you?”

“Yeah, that’s great.”

“Alright. Then… see you soon, I guess,” he smiles nodding before he walks out of your room. You can’t help a small chuckle at how nervous he seems about tonight, as if he wasn’t still sure about your feelings for him, when you’ve made it clearer than daylight.

You get the best kind of jitters while getting ready for the date. It’s like you’re in high school again and your crush has finally asked you out so you want to look your best. Since Harry already suggested you what to wear, you don’t have to spend an hour standing in your closet, trying to find the right choice. For the makeup you go for a little smokey look and you do a loose bun styles for your hair, remembering the words your mother always told you when you were a teenager.

“A woman’s greatest and most secret weapon is her neck. Men go crazy if you show them your neck and they don’t even realize it!”

You spray some perfume on yourself and put on a pair of nude heels before packing your necessities into a purse that matches your outfit. You finish with everything just in time, a soft knock signaling that Harry has returned. Checking yourself one last time in the mirror you open the door and reveal him standing at the door, wearing a pair of fitted purple dress pants with a crispy shirt on, matching your dress perfectly. And the cherry on top is the bouquet of red roses in his hands.

“Hi,” he breathes out with a nervous smile and his gaze travels down your figure, a blush tinting his cheeks.

“Hi!”

“You look… beautiful,” he smiles shyly and your heart is fluttering in your chest. It’s really happening, you are going on a date with Harry!

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly.

“These are for you. I know it’s weird that I’m picking you up from your bedroom and I’m not giving you this at the front door, but…” he chuckles as he hands you the flowers.

“It’s really nice, thank you,” you smile, taking the flowers before moving into the bedroom to put them in a vase quickly. Harry takes just about two steps into the room and stops with his hands hidden in his pockets as he eyes every movement of yours before you finish with the flowers and let him know that you’re ready to do. He holds out his hand and you take it gladly as you head out of the house.

He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, not even when you try to annoy him and bully him into finally hinting something, but you should have known that he wouldn’t break. He has a four year old daughter who is constantly bugging him, he has endless patience.

When he parks down in front of a modern apartment complex you kind of get really confused, because nothing around seems like the location you’d choose for a date.

“Are you gonna kidnap me and keep me hostage in one of the apartments here?” you ask him with narrowed eyes as the two of you head inside, taking the elevator up.

“It’s not kidnapping, you came willingly,” he smirks down at you.

“That I did.”

When you’re at one of the apartments you are really lost about what he had planned and he finally breaks your suffering and tells you what’s gonna happen as he keys the two of you into the apartment.

“This is Niall’s place, he let us use it tonight. My mum always says that cooking together is a good first date, because food brings people together and you can easily get to know each other,” he explains as you walk into the modern, but definitely very manly home. “I didn’t want to do it at home, because we are always there, so… Niall was nice enough to lend us his place for our date.”

You see that there are two full grocery bags on the kitchen counter and the table is already set for two, you wonder if Harry was here earlier, or Niall did the work for him. Either way, it’s such a thoughtful gesture and a perfect first date.

“Where is he tonight?” you ask with a small smile.

“He is visiting his mother, for a change,” Harry chuckles, knowing well you thought he would be out with a woman probably. “He said he won’t be back until later tomorrow so we can even sleep here, but I thought it would be better if we went home.”

“So what are we making?” you ask curiously as you peek into one of the grocery bags.

“We are going to attempt to make gnocchi with some killer tomato sauce. And brownies for dessert,” he adds with a small smile.

“That sounds great, what can I help with?”

“Let me just quickly pack everything out and then we have to peel the potatoes, yeah?”

“Alright,” you nod, your gaze wandering over to the spacious living room. “Can I look around?”

“Sure,” he nods while he is already elbows deep in one of the bags.

Niall’s place looks like it came right off the pages of an interior design magazine, the furnishing is modern and more on the dark color range, but not too much to make it appear depressing. Right next to his huge TV there’s a floor to ceiling bookcase filled with books mostly about music and art and you realize you don’t even know what Niall does for a living. It just never came up between his heavy flirting sessions.

“I never asked, but what does Niall do?” you ask calling out to Harry.

“Oh, he is a freelancer music producer. Tried to offer him a permanent spot at my company, but he prefers his freedom, like with everything else in his life,” he chuckles. “But he is a good one, we used to make music together when we were younger.”

Just as he says that, you spot a picture of the two of them on the shelves and your lips part in a bit of a shock when you realize that Harry used to have long hair. Leaning closer you inspect the photo better and you feel like you’re looking at two entirely different people. Niall’s hair was bleached blonde which is already enough to make him like another version of himself, but Harry is definitely the biggest shocker. He was rocking some loose shirt with the top buttons left undone, his necklace with the cross pendant peeking out and though the photo ends somewhere above his knees, you can tell that he is wearing skinny jeans, something you never thought you would ever see him in.

“You had long hair?” you ask joining him in the kitchen. Harry’s eyes shoot up to him, then he looks in the direction of the living room, a smile tugging on his lips as he probably remembers what photo you must have just seen.

“Uh, yeah. Yes I did, when I was about 21 or 22.”

“I could hardly believe that was you in the picture, with the long locks and the skinny jeans,” you tease him.

“Yeah, I was a lot different then, but after all, it’s been an entire decade since then,” he sniggles.

“Why did you cut it?”

“Um, I was pretty new in the business back then and had a few assholes telling me that it’s not too masculine and all that. It was a time when I cared more about others’ opinion than I should have so I kind of gave in and cut it.”

“I’m sorry they ruined it for you. But I’m glad you don’t care about others that much now,” you smile at him softly. Harry’s eyes flicker down to his painted nails and ring-clad fingers and you just know what he is about to ask before he even speaks up.

“Does it… bother you? That I paint my nails and stuff?”

“No,” you shake your head confidently. “Not at all. I mean, I never saw you without them, but at this point I think it wouldn’t even feel right,” you add with a small laugh that brings Harry’s smile back as well. Stepping closer you kiss his shoulder softly before turning your focus on the food in front of you. “So, let’s peel these bad boys!”

It’s the first time you and Harry actually work together in the kitchen for more than just five minutes. He is always in control at home, taking over everything with Izzy and you know it’s a good bonding time for them, so you never even tried to push your way into it without their invitation. But now the bonding is all about you and him and so far you’ve been a great team. The cutest thing is that he brought you matching aprons to protect your clothes and you look like you are in some cooking show for sure.

You keep asking questions from each other while working on the food, Harry asks you some more about your childhood and teenage years and he shares stories from college where he had this friend group of five. Niall was part of the group as well and he said he is still in touch with the other boys, but they all do very different things now, the other three are already fathers themselves and live far away, so they don’t get to see each other that much.

You are making the little dumplings while Harry is on duty for cooking them, relentlessly fishing them out of the boiling water once they swim up to the top. When that’s done, Harry starts making the sauce while you take care of the brownies. It all works out well, everything gets done easily and while the dessert is in the oven you start eating what you just created.

“Mm, this sauce is really good!” you hum when you take the first bite.

“It’s my mum’s recipe,” he smiles proudly.

At the beginning of the evening you could tell that he felt nervous, not essentially about being with you, but probably because of the thought of going on a date in general. But as time passed by and he got more and more comfortable in the situation, you could see him loosen up and calm his nerves, so now that you are eating the dinner you made together and drinking a glass of fine wine, talking about anything and everything, you feel like he is actually enjoying something he was probably terrified from before.

When the brownies are done the two of you take advantage of the nice evening weather and Niall’s amazing balcony, moving out to the lounge chairs, munching on the dessert with the skyline of the city in front of you. At one point you start playing a game of would you rather, and after a while you ask each other the most random things, cracking each other up continuously. You don’t even realize and it’s already past ten, you completely talked the evening away, but you don’t regret any of it.

You clean up Niall’s place, leaving it just the way you got it, putting some leftovers into his fridge for him as a thank you for lending you his place before you head out.

Harry keeps a hand on you at all times on the way home, he is either holding your hand over the console, or rests his palm on your thigh above your knee, but either way, he just keeps the physical touch up always. Not that you mind, you are doing kind of the same, enjoying his closeness.

Arriving home you can feel a kind of tension growing, but not a bad kind. You want him. Your desire to go further than just kissing has grown immensely tonight, but you have no idea how he feels about taking it further and you don’t want to push him past his boundaries.

“Want to… sleep with me again?” he shyly asks when you’re going up the stairs.

“Yeah, I would love that,” you smile at him, giving him a quick peck on his cheek.

When you part ways in the hallway he probably expects you to do your night time routine, but you have other plans. Grabbing your polaroid camera you pad your way over to his room, knocking on the door, hoping he is not in the shower yet. When he calls out for you, he is standing at his dresser, the first few buttons of his shirt are already undone, but he is still dressed.

“I just thought that… we could snap a picture as a nice memento of our first date,” you shyly explain to him, holding the camera up.

“Oh, yeah! Okay, how do you... how should we…?” he looks around the room and you step to his dresser, placing the camera to the top of it.

“It’s got a timer,” you explain as you set it up and tell him where to stand so you can check if he is in the frame. When it’s all set, you glance back at him. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” he nods shyly. You push the button and step back to him. “What should we…” he starts, but you already know what you want the picture to be like.

Cupping his face in your hands you pull him down and kiss him sweetly, for the first time tonight. You’ve noticed he hasn’t tried to kiss you all night, being a gentleman, but you’ve been craving it since he showed up at your door with the roses.

He hesitates for a moment, but eventually curls his arms around you, kissing you back softly. The timer goes off and the flash indicates that the photo has been taken. Pulling back you smile at him before taking the photo from the camera, setting it to the side to develop. Harry steps behind you, his arms coming to curl around your waist and you turn in his hold to face him.

“Hi,” you smile at him giddily. “Thanks for today.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he answers softly, making your heart flutter. You press your lips at his, kissing him hard and passionate, like you wanted all evening. He is quick to return the kiss with just as much passion as you put into it, his hands finding your waist as he slowly pulls you with him until the back of his legs hit the bed. He sits down and pulls you with him so you sit on his lap straddling him, never breaking the kiss as you settle in his arms, his hands roaming up and down your back.

Your kisses move from his delicious lips to his chiseled jawline and down his neck, your fingers working on the buttons of his dress shirt. You want him, you need him, he is all you can think about and the taste of his skin on your tongue is making you lose your mind.

His hands move up your thighs right to your bum, giving it a good squeeze, making you moan against the crook of his neck.

“Fuck,” he growls, throwing the two of you to the bed, getting on top of you before his lips attack yours, kissing you with a demand heatedly. His lips move smoothly against yours, devouring you with every suck and lick, making you dizzy in the head with such little effort.

He starts kissing down your neck, through your collarbone and whatever is showing in your dress on your chest. Your fingers lace through his messy curls, keeping him close to you as you try to control your moans and gasps. His fingers hook under the thin straps of your dress and he is about to pull them down when he stops, breathing heavily against your skin.

Harry lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours as he is panting through his parted lips and you cup his cheeks in your hands.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” you tell him softly, knowing well his mind is probably racing right now.

“I just…” he starts quietly. “I haven’t been with anyone since… Maggie,” he admits in a whisper and your gaze softens on him.

“And I haven’t been with anyone since Keith,” you admit truthfully. “We don’t have to do anything tonight. I’m fine with just sleeping if that’s all you want to do.”

“No, I want to… I want to do things, I just… I’m not used to it, I guess,” he breathes out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“It’s okay. We can take it slow. Whatever you feel comfortable with,” you assure him pecking his lips softly.

“Is it… Is it okay if we just… touch?” He is clearly feeling a bit embarrassed to ask, but you will not make him feel bad for asking for whatever he wants. Pulling him down for another kiss you smile up at him.

“Touching is perfect. It’s all up to you,” you tell him and see the gratitude in his eyes right away.

Removing yourself off of his lap you climb back on the bed, pulling him with you until he is holding himself up above you. Your eyes meet for a second again before leaning down he kisses you slowly, taking his time with you. He is holding himself up on one arm while his other hand finds your hip, gently squeezing it when his tongue slides into your mouth through the kiss. Your hands move down his chest and you start unbuttoning his shirt until it falls open and he shimmies it off with a soft chuckle.

“Let’s get rid of the dress too,” you breathe out, reaching down for the hem of your dress, pulling it up until it’s off, leaving you in only your underwear. You’re wearing a matching set with a strapless bra and as you lie back on the bed Harry’s eyes basically devour you, his gaze running up and down your body several times.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he breathes out before leaning down and kissing you again, his hand cupping your side before wandering over to your stomach and up to your chest. He runs his hand over your chest, gently squeezing it, making you moan into the kiss.

“And you’re wearing too much clothes,” you grin as you reach down and start undoing his purple pants you ogled him quite often tonight. Harry chuckles as he holds himself up for you to work the button and the zipper on his pants before he takes over the task and gets rid of them himself, leaving him in only his boxer briefs and you have to hold yourself back from gasping when you see the growing bulge between his legs.

You don’t get to eye him for too long, because he is back to kissing you, his body pressing up against yours as you let your hands roam his strong back, his skin burning under your touch. His lips travel down the line of your neck to your chest and his hand snakes behind your back, but he stops before he could do anything with the clasp of your bra. Glancing up at you he gives you a questioning glare, asking for your permission.

“You can take it off,” you softly tell him nodding. His fingers are quick to undo it and a moment later you’re lying with a bare chest underneath him. His hand moves to your chest again and he kneads your breast again, this time with nothing between your skin and his palm. You whimper under his touch, you’ve been so starved to be touched this way and now that it’s happening, it’s hard to control yourself, but Harry doesn’t seem to mind seeing you react to what he is doing.

His lips return to your mouth and while he kisses you with so much passion, he slowly lays himself down next to you, so you’re facing each other sideways on the bed. He pulls you closer to him until you’re flushed against his hard chest and while your hand roams around his shoulders and back, his palm slides down your spine, over your waist until he calms bum, pushing you even closer to him. His clothed erection presses against your thigh and you can’t help but whimper his name at the feeling.

His kisses slow down and his touch loosens on you until he pulls back, seemingly just for air, but you can tell his head is starting to race again, spiraling thoughts taking over his mind.

“Do you want me to take over control?” you softly ask him, pushing his unruly curls out of his forehead. His gaze softens and he nods shortly with gratefulness lacing through his look.

He watches you intently as you push yourself up into a sitting position, he rolls to his back and keeps his gaze on you as you hook your fingers into your panties, getting rid of them before doing the same for him with his boxers. He lifts his hips up as you pull down the elastic material, revealing his hard cock to your greedy eyes. You want nothing more than to taste him, but he said he just wants to touch so you don’t try to overstep his limits, leaving this desire of yours to another time. Instead, you lean down, capturing his lips in a sweet, reassuring kiss that everything is going fine to calm his nerves as much as you can, while you place your palm to his lower stomach, moving down slowly until you find his hard cock, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a few gentle stroke.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your parted lips and you can’t push a smile down.

You kiss his lips, his cheeks, his jawline, everywhere around his face while you keep pumping him, spreading some of his precum down his length to help your hand move smoother. Your actions awaken something in him, he grabs your face in both his hands, kissing you hard before he pushes you to your back, becoming the one on top. He parts your legs with pushing a knee between your thighs and while you keep up with your motions, he gets down to action as well. One of his large palms runs down your abdomen, stroking your lower belly gently before it moves to your inner thigh, spreading you even more for him before you feel his touch on your heated and dripping wet core. First, he just teasingly runs two fingers through your folds, testing how wet you are and when he realizes that you are more than ready to whatever he has planned, he moves his thumb to your sensitive clit, drawing circles with the pad of his finger, sending a wave of pleasure up your spine immediately.

“Harry!” you moan his name, running your thumb over the head of his cock that makes him gasp and stop his motions for a moment before he returns to pleasuring you.

He buckles his hips into your touch while his fingers move down from your clit until he is teasing your entrance, just circling around it but not pushing into you. Rolling your hips you signal him that you want the teasing to end and he luckily gets the hint, slowly sliding two fingers inside you, curling them gently and it makes your eyes roll back immediately. He rests his forehead on your shoulder as he starts moving his fingers in and out of you while you try your best to keep up your pumping motion as well, moving your other hand to his balls to give him some of that extra pleasure and he seems to be liking what you’re doing, because your name keeps falling from his lips as keeps fingering you, curling his digits just the right way inside you from time to time.

“Fuck, Y/N, I won’t last long,” he pants, his lips brushing against your neck before he kisses the soft skin above your collarbone.

“It’s alright. Just want you to feel good, H,” you assure him, though you’re getting closer to your release as well.

“Are you close?” he asks out of breath, still holding himself up above you, leaning onto his other arm next to your head.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” you nod, turning your head so your lips could meet for a kiss again.

You can tell he is trying hard to hold himself back, to stretch it out as long as he can. A torturous look tugs on his face and you kiss his temple, wanting nothing more than to see him finally reach the peak.

“Let go, H. It’s alright,” you whisper against his skin and he whines at your words before you feel his cock jerk in your hand and he cums under your touch.

You keep stroking him as he rides his high, gasping and panting your name while he spills his semen onto your naked stomach. His fingers stopped moving inside you as he found his relief, but as soon as you feel him recovering from his orgasm, he goes right back to where he left it, desperately wanting to pleasure you as well.

“Harry!” you moan when he hits a specific spot inside you, tingling your nerves just right, your hands come to clasp onto his broad shoulders.

“Cum for me, babe. Let me see you feel good,” he whispers before his lips occupy your mouth again, kissing you with so much passion and vigor, your senses are starting to overload.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you gasp feeling your toes curl and Harry picks his pace up, his thumb coming in contact with your clit as he tries to make you reach your high.

And then it finally happens. You stop breathing for a moment, the intensity of it washing over your whole body. It’s been so long since you felt this good with anyone, and just the thought of doing this with Harry probably adds a lot to the equation.

He slows his fingers down, but makes sure to curl them inside you every time he pumps them in, and you repeat his name over and over again until you finally catch your breath. Your gaze meets his, and you see a happy and satisfied shine in his green irises as he leans down and kisses you sweetly, pulling his fingers out of you gently.

“M’gonna get a towel,” he murmurs, pecking your lips one last time before he gets up from the bed and walks into the bathroom while you lie on his bed, totally gone and worn out from your orgasm. Harry comes back with a damp washcloth and cleans up the mess he made on you before gently moving to between your legs, taking such good care of you. He drops the cloth to the floor, not wanting to leave the bed again as he pulls the covers over your bodies, pulling you into his arms.

“How are you feeling?” you softly ask, pecking his toned chest.

“I’m good.”

Lifting your head you search for his eyes, wanting to make sure he didn’t regret any of it, but he seems calm and rested for a change. Smiling up at him you push yourself up a little so you can connect your lips before you snuggle back to his side and let yourself slowly drift off to sleep, listening to his steady heartbeat under your face.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

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heywardsarchive · 3 years

Text

Before You Go - [Harry Potter]

Warnings: angst, grief, death, insecurities, anxiety, sadness, alcohol, if I missed any pls let me know!

Summary: Harry lost his lover to the second wizarding war and his mind is uneasy and filled with regret and sadness as he goes through the last of her belongings.

a/n: Letters are in bold and italics, memories are in italics

Word count: 2.3k+

Based off of ‘before you go’ by Lewis Capaldi for @iliveiloveiwrite‘s songfic challenge! I hope you like it:)

Pairing: Harry Potter x female reader

*****

Harry sat on the sofa of his apartment, nursing a bottle of beer in one hand, staring, dazed at the television screen, not paying attention to the movements of the characters. His mind was wandering. The war was over but he was still reeling from the effects of it. He lost so many people he loved, it wasn't his fault but he couldn't help but blame himself. If only he was quicker, smarter. If he didn't let voldemort in he could have stopped sirius from dying. If he just surrendered himself to the dark lord, he could have stopped Fred's death, remus' and tonks too. So many others would have been saved.

The deaths of Fred, Sirius, Remus, Hedwig and others killed him inside but none hurt him as much as hers did. Y/n l/n. The only woman he truly loved. He loved her with every inch and fibre of his being. There was no part of him that didn't ache for her touch. He didn't want her to die. He would have done anything to stop her death, but he couldn't help it.

He tried convincing himself that he hated her. Hated her for leaving him, hated her for saving his life giving her own instead. Hated her for putting his life over her own, which in Harry's eyes was a hundred times more worthy then his. He tried, but he knew he was just kidding himself. How could he hate someone as perfect as her? She put everything above herself.

Every memory of her faded in his mind. All harry could think of was what he should have said when he had her in his arms, feeling her touch on skin. Staring into her (e/c) eyes. Shining with love looking into his emerald green ones, her fingers in his unruly raven hair. If he thought hard enough, he could still feel her lingering touch. But it wasn't enough. He thought of everything he could have said to her. How he could have told her that he loves her, how he wanted to marry her one day, have children of she wished, how he would give everything and everyone to the devil for her. But alas, there were many things that were left unspoken.

Regret. That was all Harry felt. No other emotion but sadness, grief and regret filled his body. He didn't know how much you were hurting inside, too wrapped up in his own head, forgetting the one he loved. Y/n took care of him although she herself was broken, beyond repair with the heartache she had suffered. Losing her older brother and parents to a death Eater attack wasn't easy on anyone. She smiled like nothing was wrong, it was as if everything was okay in her life, as if no pain filled her heart . Her smiling face plagued Harry's mind. They said time can heal, but that was a would that Harry doubted would ever heal.

Harry wished that there was something he could have said to her before she died and left him and all others behind, going to a happier and safer place, or so Harry liked to think. In his eyes, she deserved nothing but love and support. He wished he was more present in her life, wishing he could have done something to ease her pain.

He took another swig of the beer in his hand and closed his eyes. He thought that her death was worse than anything in the world, but in reality it was the idea that she died hurting inside, completely broken and with the thought that she was alone was what killed him more.

He walked to his room clumsily, not really drunk but a bit tipsy. He walked to his dressing table and removed a box from the drawer. He lifted the lid and went through the contents. It was the last piece of y/n that he possessed. Having no kin left behind, she left all her belongings to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

In the box Harry pulled out a few letters addressed to him. He opened the first one and read it for the tenth time since he got it. It was dated 1994, their fourth year. As he read the contents, his mind flashed back to the day the incidents occured. He remembered it clear as day, the Yule ball. He was clumsy and didn't know how to dance, but with y/n as his date, how could he not have fun?

Dear Harry, I know I will never have the guts to send you this letter, but maybe one day you will get to read this.

Today you took me to the Yule ball, we went as friends, I guess we'll never be anything more than that. I guess that's ok though, atleast I can still be around you. Wait, that's creepy. But you get the picture right? I really like you Harry. I want nothing more than to be your girlfriend but I don't know if you even like me that way. Maybe I'll confess to you one day, who knows? You looked really good today Harry. In the green dress robes, they really bring out your eyes. We matched too! Mother sent me a dark green dress which I love. I hope I get to wear it soon. Hermione is calling me to sleep now, I will see you tomorrow Harry. Lots of love, Yours, Y/n.

Harry closed his eyes and a tear fell from his eyes onto the paper, blotting the ink. He missed the way you smiled when you read a good book, or danced along to sweet music, or how you convinced him to make a snow Angel when it snowed back in 5th year. The memories filled his mind, he didn't know if he was happy about it or if it was too painful to remember.

It was 4th year, the Yule ball was in a few days. Harry still had not got a date. There was only one girl he had eyes for but he was tok afraid to ask her. He saw multiple boys her out but she seemed to decline all of them. He gathered his gryffindor courage and walked up to y/n. "Hey, y/n do you wanna go to the ball with me?" She was about to reply when Harry's nerves kicked in and he quickly added, "as friends ofcourse." He noticed her face fall but he didn't think much of it. "Yes Harry, I'd love to." She smiled and walked to her next class. Harry stood there happy that she agreed but also internally slapping himself that he asked her as friends when he wanted more.

Harry then remembered the time her asked her out, it was their fifth year and y/n had stood up for him against the toad face umbridge. He had to resist the urge the urge to kiss her then and there during class.

Harry stopped y/n outside class. He grabbed her hand and pulled her aside. "Harry, what's up?" She asked him, cocking an eyebrow. "I actually have to ask you something." She gestured for him to go on. "Willyougoonadatewithme?" Harry looked hopefully. "What did you say?" She looked confused. Harry took a deep breath. "Will you go on a date with me?" He repeated, slowly. "Yes." She grinned. "I have potions now, but I will catch you later." She kissed Harry's cheek and left. Harry watched her retreating figure with a smile on his face and his hand on the spot where she kissed him.

Harry was now lying on the bed rummaging through the box, finding y/n's belongings. His breath hitched when he found the pendant that he gave her in their sixth year for their one year anniversary. All their memories filled his mind and all he could think of was y/n's face, which in his opinion was the most beautiful face in the world.

He closed his eyes, dropping the box in the process. He bent down to pick up the contents when he saw a picture fall out of a book. It was a picture of him and y/n. He smiled at the sight of the picture. It was taken in their sixth year after he told her he loved her. He missed the old days when things were a bit better.

He opened the diary and flipped through the pages. It had notes on y/n's life, some random pictures here and there. Harry then reached the date may 25th 1997. It was the date she lost her whole family. He read the words written with blue ink. Each word on the paper was a gaping wound on his body issuing life blood.

I lost everything today. I don't know why I am writing this down but maybe it will help me cope. I can't break down now. I need to stay strong for Harry. For Ron and Hermione too. They're counting on me. I have to fight with my life against that horrid dark lord. I have to. To avenge the death of my family.

I can't be weak. Not now. I can deal with my own problems later on, after the war. I can't let my anxiety and insecurities take over my mind. Not now. Not now.

Once the war is over, things will get over. I know Harry can defeat him. I belive in him. He's so strong, faced so much loss at such a young age. I could never survive that much trauma. I admire his strength, I wish I was that strong. No point dwelling in my faults now, we have a war to win.

Harry shut the book, unable to read further. He didn't understand why y/n felt that way. She never showed it. He couldn't comprehend how someone so strong and brave could put themself down like that. She called him brave, when he was far from that. He kept lashing out, removing his anger on everyone. But she didn't do that, she didn't cry, kept everything inside for his sake. She was the strong one in the relationship not him. Harry felt guilty once again, like it was his fault. He felt he didn't do enough to help his love out of her cage of insecurity.

Harry wished he had done more, said more and stopped her hurting, or reduced it. He wished there was a way for him to reach her once and ask if he could have stopped her pain. He blamed himself for being distracted, leading her to let herself be taken instead.

Harry was dueling a death Eater, not paying attention to what was happening around him. Another death eater snuck behind up behind him and blasted the wall he was standing in front of. Y/n saw him and pushed Harry out of the way, taking the brunt of the falling bricks herself.

"No!" Harry cried, pushing the bricks away from her frail body. "No no no." He whispered. He finally freed her from the bricks and cracked her in his arms. A few tears rolled down his cheeks. "Don't cry Harry." This only made the tears fall faster. "I'm not worth your tears haz." She weakly reached up and wiped the tears off his dirty face. "Why?" Harry croaked. "You didn't have to die for me. I don't want you to die for me." He cried. "Oh Harry, I'd give my life a thousand times over to save yours. I'll love you forever and always. No matter what, I'll always watch over you."

"Don't leave me." Harry pressed a feverish kiss to y/n's lips, forehead, hair , cheeks. She was getting colder every minute. "I'll always be with you. In here." She placed her hand on his heart and smiled. Her hand become limp and dropped down. Her last breath of life taken. Harry freely cried over her dead body.

When voldemort called Harry to his death, he freely went, knowing it was right. He had to avenge the deaths of all those who were killed in the war. But a small part of him yearned to see y/n's smiling face again, and he hoped that he would see her again when he was no more. So he went, went with a brave face to the one he loved most.

Harry sat down on his bed, leaving the box aside. As he closed his eyes he wondered if there would have been a different outcome, a butterfly effect of sorts, if he hadn't been so closed off. If he let his walls down, been vulnerable around y/n, maybe she wouldn't have felt so alone and weak. If he let her in fully he could have let her know that he too was weak in a way, he too needed to let out his emotions. But it was too late now. She was gone and there was nothing Harry could do about it.

He drifted of to sleep, one thought lingered in his mind. If there was something he could have said to make it all stop hurting her. If he could have eased her mind before she went. It truly killed Harry how y/n's mind could make her feel so worthless.

But she was gone. There was a gaping hole in Harry's heart, one that could only be filled by love from y/n. But she was no more with him. He would never hear her voice again, never feel her touch, all that was left in him was guilt, regret and sadness and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. *** A/n: I am so sorry for the angst, I hope I didn't break y'all too much;) I will be posting a new year fic tomorrow!

It's new years eve y'all! I hope you guys have a fantastic new year and here's to hoping 2021 is better than 2020!

#harry potter x reader #iliveiloveiwrite3.5k #harry potter angst #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader angst

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marjansmarwani · 3 years

Text

tender-hearted sadness pulls me through the day

7.9k || ao3

Carlos is hurt, badly, and TK is faced both with the awful possibility of losing him and the fact that his parents still don't know about them. He promised Carlos he could tell them in his own time though, and he doesn't intend to break that promise for anything. Even if it means he can't be there, even if it means he has to hope from a distance. He would do anything for Carlos, after all.

aka that Carlos’s parent’s fic I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. It’s finally done and since @officereyes was the one who insisted I write it in the first place and it is her birthday, it feels only right to offer it as a part 2/on the actual correct day gift (surprise). I hope you enjoy it Jamie!

This idea was also requested by @noxsoulmate after I had already started writing it so I also hope you enjoy, and that it was worth the wait! This was started around the same time that 2x04 aired so it is definitely no longer canon compliant, though I did tweak a few things as the season progressed. Thanks to @justaswampdemon for reading through it last night to tell me if any of it actually made sense or not because I wasn’t sure after working on it for so long!

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

TK couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

They were shaking and though he had nearly scrubbed them raw he could still feel the memory of the blood that had coated them only a half-hour before. It was Carlos’s blood and the reminder sent his hands trembling all over again. The sight of the accident was still so fresh in his mind. It was everywhere, trapped in all of his senses — the fear of realizing just who it was trapped in the crushed vehicle, the overwhelming scent of the blood stuck in his head, the sound of the heart monitor flatlining and his own desperate pleas for Carlos to stay with them, the helplessness of Carlos’s life leaking away under his fingers — he couldn't shake it. He knew he wasn’t likely to until he saw Carlos, until he had proof that he was okay.

But he was also a medic and he knew that the alternative, the thing he was trying so hard not to think about, to not put any energy into, was just as likely an outcome as any.

His anxiety spiral is interrupted by the sound of frantic footsteps that pause as they grow closer to his seat.

“TJ?”

He sat bolt upright at the sight of Carlos’s parents, expressions tense and eyes full of fear, before him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Reyes,” he stammered, standing up and shoving his shaking hands into the pockets of his pants, “hi. Uh, have they told you anything yet?”

“No,” Mrs. Reyes said fearfully, “we just got here.”

TK nodded, anxiously twisting at the interior of his pockets, “I’m sure someone will be by soon,” he assured her, “he’s only been here for about an hour.”

“And how long have you been here?” Carlos’s father asked him, studying him with a piercing gaze.

“About an hour,” TK repeated, “I was on shift, we responded to the accident. I rode in on the ambulance with him and since it was the end of my shift anyways and my Captain knows Carlos and I are...close, she told me just to stay.”

He met Mr. Reyes’s gaze, refusing to look away and hoping desperately that he hadn’t noticed his falter. It wasn’t a lie, but the omission weighed on him. Never once since their start had he denied his feelings for Carlos. He had made that mistake once, in the very beginning, and it had nearly prevented what they had become. But he had no other choice; he had made Carlos a promise. And he wouldn’t break it, not for anything.

The other man’s father nodded, eyes zeroing in on the paramedic badge on his shirt. “I thought you said you were a firefighter?”

“I was, the paramedic thing is pretty new. We lost one at our station, during the volcano, and I was already dual certified from New York so…” he trailed off with a shrug, his gaze drifting from the parents before him to the doors of the trauma wing Carlos had been wheeled into upon their arrival.

“You treated him?”

TK snapped his gaze back to find Mrs. Reyes looking at him with wide eyes. He swallowed, and nodded, “I did, ma’am,” he confirmed, voice soft with repressed emotion.

“And?” she asked him desperately, eyes shining with unshed tears, “How is he? How is my boy?”

How did he tell them? How did you tell your boyfriend’s parents that not even an hour ago you had been scared out of your mind that he was going to die in your arms even as you and your team worked desperately to save him? How did you do all of that without showing the emotion, how did you do that when they don’t know — when they can’t know — that his presence is what allows you to sleep soundly each night, that his smile is the thing you most look forward to seeing each and every day?

They were both looking at him as if he held all the answers and to be fair, he did. In terms of what had happened, at least. He was just as clueless as anyone else as to what would come next.

“He was involved in a very serious accident,” he settled on. “He lost a lot of blood but we managed to get him stabilized in the field. That’s all I know though. If I knew more…”

He trailed off but Carlos’s mother shook her head, reaching out to place a warm and trembling hand on his arm, “Thank you,” she told him, “for telling us, and for saving him. Carlitos is so lucky to have such a wonderful friend.”

“Of course,” he said without hesitation, even though her well-intentioned words stung, even though he had to swallow what would have come next: he would do anything for Carlos.

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

It’s another few hours before his dad and the rest of the 126 show up. He may have been exaggerating when he had told Mrs. Reyes that his shift was ending when they arrived at the hospital. The reality was that Tommy had told him to stay. She had said that she and Nancy could handle the last few hours without him and that he would be too distracted to focus for the remainder of the shift so he may as well just stay. She had been right, but that meant there had still been a shift to be finished before anyone else was available to join his vigil.

A doctor had come by, a short while ago to give them an update. The surgery had gone well and while they had repaired the damage, they cautioned them that he was not out of danger yet, that the next several hours would be key. The knowledge had settled like a lead weight in TK’s stomach, the dread seeping through his veins. He saw his own fear clearly reflected in the eyes of Carlos’s parents and knows that they are all connected by it, even if they don’t know it.

When the doctor told them that Carlos was being moved to a recovery room where he would be closely monitored and that a nurse would be by when he was settled to let them know, TK realized a whole other layer to this nightmare. He won’t be able to be there. There is no way he can justify sitting by Carlos’s bedside to his parents as a “friend from work.” In order to be there for Carlos, he would have to tell them the truth, and he can’t do that. Not when he made Carlos a promise.

That’s how his team finds him: alone in the waiting room, leg anxiously bouncing against the floor as he stares in the direction of the recovery rooms, wanting nothing more than to be able to be beside Carlos, to have concrete evidence that he hadn’t lost him.

He allowed himself to be pulled into hugs and subjected to comforting pats before anyone asks the question he’s been dreading. It’s Marjan that does, her unwavering and empathetic gaze studying him as she speaks the words: “Is he still in surgery?”

“No, he’s in recovery now.” TK assured them, allowing them a moment to take a breath of relief before he continued, “The doctors said that the next few hours will be crucial, that those will be what really makes the difference. So we’re just...hoping for the best.”

They all nodded, but Paul’s piercing gaze studied him, “If he’s in recovery, why are you out here and not in there?”

TK bit his lip, turning his gaze downwards. He and Carlos hadn’t exactly shared their conflict about his parents with their friends. If TK was being honest, he had been hoping they wouldn’t ever have to, that they would cross that bridge before it ever became an issue. Clearly, the universe had other plans.

“His parents are in there,” he replied, hoping that maybe they wouldn’t push, that maybe they could just leave it there.

But these were their friends, and they wouldn't be so easily satisfied.

“Is he not out to them?” Marjan asked gently, taking the seat beside him.

“No, he’s out to them it’s just...complicated.”

“How complicated can it be?” Judd asked as he settled into a seat across from them, “he’s out and you two are solid. Seems pretty uncomplicated to me.”

TK didn’t know how to explain it, exactly. “They don’t know he’s in a relationship,” he settled on, “and he’s not ready to tell them. We...talked about it a few months ago, and I told him that was fine. That we could move at his pace. I mean,” he broke off here with a shrug, meeting the eyes of his teammates, “it’s the least I can do for him, right? Extend him the same understanding he gave me?”

The others exchanged glances that TK couldn’t read. Judd looked in the direction of the recovery rooms, “This ain’t right kid,” he said softly, “Carlos would want you there. You should be there.”

TK shook his head firmly, “I promised him he could tell them on his own terms, Judd. I told him I would wait as long as he needed. I can’t make that choice for him, and I won’t. I made him a promise.”

There was silence in the wake of his words. The others exchanged glances and TK looked away, not wanting to see their pity. He knew he was making the right choice, but that didn’t make the reality of it any easier to face. Carlos had nearly died in his arms just a few hours ago. The cold fear of losing him was still fresh in his mind, he still hadn’t been able to shake the chill from his bones. And now he was in a room just down the hall and TK couldn’t be there. Of all the challenges they had faced, this might just be the worst one yet.

Paul let out a low breath and shook his head, “I hear you man, and it’s admirable. I get you wanting to respect Carlos’s wishes, but you’ve got to think about yourself too. Maybe it would be easier for you to not be here? Sitting here and not being able to be with him has to be hard. You could go home, wait there instead. We’ll let you know if there are any updates.”

TK gave him a tight smile, “I appreciate it, but no. Even though I can’t be with him, I can’t imagine not being as close to him as possible. I’m not going anywhere.”

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

His friends come and go, but TK simply waits. He assures them that he’s fine when asked, but otherwise, he is not great company. All he can manage to do is sit quietly and wait. And hope. He takes a turn around the waiting room, he bounces his leg anxiously at his seat, he fiddles with his necklace. He does everything he can to keep his body busy while his mind is fully occupied.

He knows that right down the hall his boyfriend, the person who he might just love more than anyone else on this planet, is in a medically induced coma. He knows that he can’t be there, and he knows why.

That doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

That also doesn’t mean that the last image he has of Carlos — bloody and crashing on a gurney being rushed to a trauma room — is going to leave his mind any time soon. He needs to see him. He needs visual confirmation to cancel out the nightmare image running through his head. He knows that he can’t, not right now, but he won’t leave until he can.

The waiting room empties and fills again several times during his vigil. The daylight he had entered in had faded long ago and the dark night sky was visible each time the hospital doors slid open. It was still a few hours before he saw Mr. and Mrs. Reyes leave from his corner of the waiting room. They stepped through the hospital doors hand in hand, Mr. Reyes rubbing comforting circles on his wife’s back as they headed back to their car, presumably to go home and get a few hours of sleep.

TK, who had been coming close to dozing off in his seat, was suddenly wide awake. Carlos’s parents were gone, he could go see him. He was out of his seat in an instant, his feet carrying him towards the door he had been staring at all day before his head could properly catch up. It wasn’t until he neared the door that he slowed, that he processed.

It felt almost wrong to be sneaking in. He felt almost guilty for waiting for Carlos’s parents to leave, for jumping on the opportunity the moment it presented itself. But he needed to see Carlos. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to settle until he did. He could not have the last image of him in his mind be what he had looked like when they exited the ambulance. He may have gotten the same updates from the doctor but that did nothing to ease his fear. He had nearly felt Carlos die under his hands all those hours ago. He needed to feel him breathing too.

He stepped in quietly, though he knew there was no danger of waking him. He had barely made it over the threshold before he froze, nearly toppled by the wrongness of seeing Carlos so still. To the casual observer, he probably looked like he was sleeping. But TK knew Carlos Reyes. The man was an energetic sleeper. He moved constantly in the night, always shifting and reaching out to pull TK closer when he felt he had strayed too far away. Always striving to press his body against his, always keeping them close; even in sleep. But it was more than that. His face was all wrong. Carlos’s face was expressive, even in sleep. Whatever he was thinking or feeling or dreaming was always laid out in full display for TK to read but now his face was blank. That more than anything struck TK as so foreign, so unusual.

He took a deep, wavering breath as he crossed the room, running his eyes over him as he drew closer. From the outside, he didn’t look too badly injured, but TK knew with a cold certainty that most of the damage was hidden by bandages under the blankets. He knew that there was so much more to this than met the eye, that as wrong as Carlos looked in this bed it was a far sight better than the alternative — than what he had feared from the moment they arrived on the scene.

“Hey babe,” he said softly as he reached the side of the bed, reaching out to run a hand through Carlos’s curls, “you look better than you did earlier. I hope you’re feeling better too.”

He paused here, taking another moment to study him up close now. He bit his lip against the tears that wanted to come. He didn’t know how much time he would have here, he wasn’t going to waste any of it crying.

“I know it’s going to take some time,” he said instead when he managed to steady his voice, “and I want you to know you should take all the time you need. We’ll be fine until you’re ready. I’ll be fine. I just,” he broke off, took a steadying breath, and started again, “I just want you to know that I probably won’t be here a lot, just in case you ever wonder why you can’t hear me, if you can hear any of us. I need you to know it’s not because I don’t want to be here or that I don’t love you. Because I do, so much. And there is nowhere I would rather be than right here with you at all times. But I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it. It’s…” he trailed off, taking another breath as he leaned forward, taking Carlos’s hand in his own, “it’s the least I can do,” he finished softly.

He lapsed into silence then, savoring in the sight of his chest lightly rising and falling with each breath. Not so long ago he thought he might never see that again. He had never realized just how much he had taken the concept for granted. He vowed that he never would again.

He leaned forward now, resting his head on the arm not intertwined with Carlos’s. “I just need you to come back to us,” he said quietly. “I need you to come back to me. I don’t want to face life without you. Don’t make me, please.”

Even though he knew there would be no reaction, even though he knew the other man was heavily sedated, he studied his face for any hint of recognition, any glimmer of hope he could sustain himself with. There was none and it was that truth and the weight of Carlos’s hand in his that saw him off into a fitful sleep.

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

The sound of footsteps woke TK, causing him to sit bolt upright and glance around frantically, heart thudding in his chest.

“Relax,” an unfamiliar voice instructed, “we definitely don’t need a cardiac patient on our hands, on top of everything else.”

It took several tries to blink the sleep out his eyes before he could make out the scene in front of him. He was in Carlos’s room. He must have fallen asleep here. He pulled himself fully upright, stretching and rubbing at the back of his neck with a grimace as he studied the nurse checking Carlos’s vitals. She glanced over at him with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning.”

“What time is it?” he croaked out.

“Just past 6, so I’d imagine if anyone were to come back after going home to sleep for the night they’d likely be back soon.”

“How’d you…”

She shrugged as she checked Carlos’s IV, “Call it an educated guess. I mean, I know you paramedics are pretty dedicated but I have yet to see any of you spend an entire day in the waiting room for a patient. Figured there had to be a bit more to it than meets the eye. That, or I have to call security on you.”

“He’s my boyfriend,” TK said softly, reaching out to take Carlos’s limp hand in his own, tenderly rubbing his thumb across it, “but his parents don’t really know. It’s...complicated.”

The nurse’s eyes softened as she studied him, “You probably have almost an hour before anyone else shows up, visiting hours don’t officially start until 7 anyways. After that, you should try to get some sleep. You’re starting to look like you should have a bed of your own.”

TK shook his head, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, sounding wholly unconvinced. “Well if you are around later and want an update feel free to ask for me at the nurses’ station. My name’s Becky.”

“Thank you, Becky,” he said with a small smile, “you have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

She waved off his thanks as she headed towards the door. She paused on the threshold, turning back to study him again, “Hey, Paramedic?”

“TK,” he provided.

“TK, then. If I find out you’re lying to me and that I should have called security…”

He gave her a grin and a tired laugh, “Then you know where I work,” he reminded her, gesturing towards his uniform, “pretty sure you’ll be able to track me down.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I hope everything works out for you two and for what it’s worth, he’s doing okay.”

“Thanks, Becky,” he said softly, turning his gaze back to Carlos’s still form before Becky smiled at them from the doorway and stepped quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

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

“This is an intervention,” Paul announced.

TK looked up sharply to see his team gathered around him several hours later. He had slipped back into the waiting room around 6:30, heedful of Becky’s warning. It was now just past 10 and he was currently being stared down by his team. He furrowed his brow in confusion and was just about to ask exactly what the hell Paul meant by that when Marjan continued.

“You’ve been here for over 24 hours now, TK. You’re still wearing yesterday’s uniform, you haven’t eaten and I doubt you’ve slept much.”

“I got a few hours!” he interjected but faltered when he was met with 4 equally unimpressed looks.

“And while I’m sure that was adequate sleep,” she continued in a tone that made it clear she did not in fact believe that, “you need more than that. Preferably in a bed. Preferably in your own bed.”

TK looked down and Judd continued, voice gentle, “You need to take care of yourself, kid. You can’t be there for him if you keel over. Let us help you out.”

TK bit at his lip. He knew they were right, logically. There was only so long he could keep this up. Soon enough his body would start protesting. He could already feel the effects of little sleep and no food in his sluggish thoughts. Realistically he knew they were right, but he couldn’t stand the thought of leaving Carlos. He wasn’t out of the woods yet. The thought that something might happen when he wasn’t there was enough to keep him rooted to his spot in the waiting room, consequences be damned. “I can’t leave him,” he choked out, “if something were to happen…”

He trailed off, but Paul simply shook his head, “Nope, you’re coming with us. Judd and I are going to take you home. You’re going to shower, change, eat something and get at least 4 hours of sleep. Then - and only then - we’ll bring you back. Marjan and Mateo will stay here and let us know if anything changes. If it does we’ll bring you right back, promise.”

TK scanned the faces of his friends. They wore matching looks of determination, and he knew that this was not an argument he was going to win. He nodded, pulling himself out of his seat and throwing another glance in the direction of Carlos’s room. He felt a hand on his arm and looked over to see Marjan giving him a sad smile, “Don’t worry, we won’t let you miss anything.”

“Yeah dude, we’ve got this!” Mateo assured him as he plopped into an empty seat.

TK gave them both a grateful smile. He wished he could have offered more, but he couldn’t find the words. Nothing his mind produced seemed adequate enough to express the level of gratitude he felt for each and every one of them. He hoped they knew.

He allowed himself to be led to Judd’s truck and as they pulled away from the hospital, his mind began to wander. Logically, he knew Carlos was in good hands, that leaving the hospital did nothing to hurt his chances. But not being there just felt wrong, as if he was tempting fate. As if his desperate hope could only have an effect from within the same building.

TK was so lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice how close they were to their destination until the truck came to a halt outside of the condo. He froze as he looked at it, the thought of stepping foot inside their shared home without Carlos washing over him. He knew he was being too quiet, he knew that the other two had noticed that something was wrong. Judd eyed him in the rearview mirror.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I can bring you to your dad’s if you’d rather, but I figured all your stuff is here so…”

“No,” TK said, voice too soft. “No,” he tried again, voice a little more sure this time, “you’re right Judd, all my stuff is here. It’s fine, really. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah, we’re not just going to leave you,” Paul told him, pushing open the passenger side door and climbing out, “we’re staying with you to make sure you actually do the things covered in our bargain. Plus,” he added in a gentler tone as he opened TK’s door and met his eyes, “you don’t need to be alone right now.”

TK swallowed and nodded. He slid out of the truck without a word, crossing to the front door and pulling his keys out of his pocket. He inserted his key into the door with trembling hands and pushed it open, holding it open behind him for Judd and Paul. Once they were all inside he shut it behind them, the sound of the lock clicking into place the only sound. They stood in silence as TK looked around, trying to take in the once familiar surroundings that now felt so foreign. The clutter of day to day life was scattered throughout the living space, left waiting for them to return home and resume their lives. It was a cruel reminder of just how sudden this had been; of how much they stood to lose.

Paul gave him a gentle shove towards the stairs, interrupting his reverie, “Go and get showered and changed, we’ll work on the food. Come back down when you’re ready.”

TK nodded and ascended the stairs without a word. He entered their bedroom without really looking at anything, making a beeline for the dresser so as to avoid the sight of the haphazardly made bed; left rumpled when they had both decided on a late start the previous morning, abandoning their usual morning routine in favor of other pursuits. He grabbed the first pants and hoodie he found, pulling them out and heading to the bathroom without even a glance at the garments in his hand.

Several minutes later he was forced to admit that the hot water felt good. It revived him in a way the restless sleep at Carlos’s bedside hadn’t, and it allowed him to peel back the layers of everything to find some of the positives. Namely that Carlos had survived surgery, that while he wasn’t out of the woods there had been no changes for the worst (or for the better, but a hot shower was a place for optimism.)

He stepped out feeling renewed. As he reached for his towel he reminded himself that it hadn’t even been 36 hours. In the grand scheme of things, that was practically nothing. For injuries like those, it was perfectly normal. There was no reason to expect the worst, not yet.

He pulled on the clothes he had grabbed, soft joggers and one of Carlos’s APD hoodies that he had claimed as his own months ago and tried to keep focusing on the positives, but his optimism faded along with the lingering warmth of the shower. Maybe the worst hadn’t happened and he was certainly grateful for that, but where they were was a world away from “good.”

He made his way down the stairs, turning the corner to find Judd and Paul in quiet conversation in the kitchen. They looked up when he appeared, Judd answering the question on his lips before he could even ask it: “No, no updates from the other two. Seems like all’s quiet there.”

TK nodded gratefully and slid into the seat across from them. Judd slid a bowl of something that TK knew objectively should smell amazing in front of him, but all he could do was stare at it.

“Thank you, but…”

“No,” Judd cut him off firmly, “you need to eat. Unless you want to be the one to tell my wife that you wouldn’t eat the food she sent over for you?”

TK sighed and picked up the fork pointedly taking a bite, and Judd huffed out a laugh, “Smart choice.”

The other two returned to their own bowls and they ate in companionable silence. TK appreciated their understanding. He was beyond grateful to his friends for everything, but even the thought of any conversation right in this moment felt like torture. The only thoughts he could manage right now were of Carlos, and the checklist of tasks required by his team before he would be allowed to return.

He finished his food in silence, getting up and crossing to the sink to rinse it out and place it in the dishwasher. He had just reached the sink when a hand stopped him, taking the bowl from his grasp.

“I’ve got this,” Judd told him, “you need sleep.”

“4 hours,” Paul reminded him from the counter, “in a bed.”

“If there are any updates…”

“We’ll let you know,” Paul assured him.

TK swallowed and nodded, turning and heading back upstairs with a soft thanks. He entered their bedroom again, this time unable to ignore the queen-sized elephant in the room. He lowered himself onto his side of the bed, muscle memory guiding him to lay on his left side, giving him a full view of Carlos’s empty pillow.

The sight of him hit him harder than anything else and suddenly he felt as if walls were closing in around him. All the feelings he had been pushing back, holding at bay so he didn’t fall apart at the wrong moment breached his tenuous barriers. The catalyst grew harder to see as his vision was clouded with tears. He rolled over, turning his back to the reminder as his body shook with sobs too long repressed. He let 36 hours of pain and fear and panic out as he lay in their bed, hoping desperately that the aching emptiness beside him did not become his new reality.

Eventually, he drifted off into a fitful sleep; head resting on his tear-soaked pillow and clinging to the desperate hope that when he woke up, things would look better.

————-

Things didn’t look much better when he woke up, but his head did feel a little clearer.

He woke with a jolt at the sensation of someone lightly shaking him. He sat up quickly to find Paul standing next to him, hands raised in a placating manner, “Easy man, it’s just me.”

TK could feel fear creeping through his mind. If Paul was waking him up then…

“What happened?” he choked out. He knew he shouldn’t have left. He should have fought them more, he should have insisted on staying, no matter what.

“Nothing,” Paul assured him, voice even and soothing, “everything’s fine. It’s just been a bit over 4 hours and while personally, I would love to let you sleep longer I figured it was only fair to wake you up and let you decide. There are no new updates and no one is going to judge you for taking the time to get a little more sleep.”

TK took a shuddering breath, willing his heart rate to go back to normal. He shook his head and pulled himself out of the bed, “No, I should be getting back. Thank you though,” he added to Paul, “for waking me up, for everything, really.”

“Of course man. We meant what we said: we’re here for you. I can’t imagine how hard this is, especially given everything, but you’re not alone in this. Don’t forget that. We all care about Carlos too, and we care about you.”

TK looked down, not sure quite how to respond to that. Thankfully, Paul knew him well. His friend put a hand on his shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. TK looked up and gave him a smile that Paul returned, “Take some time to get ready, Judd and I will be ready to leave when you are.”

He nodded again and watched as Paul stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He then took a breath to steady himself before he surveyed the room, actually thinking about what he might need this time around. He grabbed his phone charger and shoved it into his pocket but couldn’t think of anything else he might need. All he could think about was getting back to the hospital as soon as possible. He met the other two downstairs and at his nod they head out without a word, TK only pausing on the threshold for a moment as he glanced back at the empty condo. Soon he would be coming back here, with Carlos. He was sure of it; no other option was acceptable.

He shut the door behind him, turning his key in the lock until he heard the telltale click, and climbed into Judd’s truck for a silent ride to the hospital. When they arrived, he went to climb out but was stopped by Judd’s voice as the older man turned to look at him from the driver’s seat.

“I know you’re worried about him brother,” he said softly. “I can’t even imagine what it must feel like and what a mess I would be if it were Grace, but you still need to take care of yourself, remember that.”

TK swallowed down the emotions that rose up as he met Judd’s eyes.There was so much understanding in them and he knew that the other man knew what he was going through more than most. He gave him a nod, and a promise: “I’ll try.”

Judd nodded in satisfaction and TK climbed the rest of the way out of the backseat, giving his two friends a wave before he stepped out and headed back inside. He immediately headed to the nurses’ station and was about to ask for Becky when a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“TJ? What are you doing back here.”

TK froze at the sound of Mrs. Reyes’s voice. “Hi, Mrs. Reyes,” he began, “I was just checking in to see how Carlos was doing.”

The older woman’s expression softened and she reached out a hand to lay on his arm, “You are such a good person, my son is so lucky to have you as a friend.”

TK swallowed down the bile at the word, at the reminder of why he couldn’t be in there with Carlos. “How is he?” he managed to ask in a normal tone, “Has there been any change?”

Mrs. Reyes shook her head sadly, “No, but the doctors say that is to be expected right now. They say that if things remain as they are they will likely start weaning him off the sedation soon, so I guess that’s a good sign.”

“It is, he assured her, because despite everything she looked worried and he didn’t want her to suffer. “It’s a very good sign. Normal means that nothing is wrong, that things are healing. Paramedic,” he reminded her with a shrug when she shot him a curious glance, “I’m no doctor but I do know a decent amount about traumatic injuries.”

She smiled at him and squeezed his arm, “And I am so glad my Carlitos had someone like you working on him. I know it couldn’t have been easy to see someone you care about hurt like that but you helped to give him a fighting chance. I’ll never be able to thank you enough for that.”

“No thanks needed,” he told her softly, “it’s my job.”

“Still,” she insisted, pulling him into a hug. “I am so glad you are my son’s friend. He deserves wonderful people like you in his life.”

TK stiffened in the hug, her words hitting wounds she didn’t even know existed. He cleared his throat as he gently pulled away. “Thank you for the update,” he told her, “I appreciate it.”

She nodded, “Would you like to come sit with him for a bit? We don’t mind, there is plenty of room.”

The thought of being so close to Carlos but not being able to hold him, of having to stay distant so as not to blow their secret in front of his parents was too much. He was certain he wasn’t strong enough for that.

“Thank you,” he told her, “but I should get going. I don’t want to intrude and I just wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Of course,” she told him warmly, “but if you change your mind, feel free to stop by.”

He nodded and with one last hug she let him go and he stepped away, heading towards the doors. He didn’t know where he was going, there was nowhere else for him to go. He needed to be here, but he couldn’t be in there with them. He couldn’t be so close without revealing their relationship and he refused to do that to Carlos.

He stepped outside into the late afternoon sunlight, trying to decide what to do next. Trying to tamp down on the tears threatening to rise. It was too much. He had thought he was strong enough to handle this but he wasn’t. He couldn’t do this.

“TK?”

His name, said like a question from a familiar voice, caused him to turn to see Marjan heading towards him, a tray of coffees in her hand and a frown on her face.

“Hey Marj,” he said, hoping his voice sounded normal. Judging by the look on her face, he failed.

“What happened? Paul said you just got back. Is there any news? Mateo and I have been keeping an eye out but we didn’t see…”

“No,” he assured her, “no, you didn’t miss anything. Things are still fine. I just…” he trailed off, took a breath and started again. “I just ran into Carlos’s mother. She was very pleasant; offered to let me sit in the room with them. Told me what a good friend I was to her son.”

Marjan’s face dropped, “TK,” she said softly, but any response he could have given was swallowed by the tears he couldn’t stop. He thought he had gotten them all out a few hours ago as he lay in their bed, but clearly he was wrong. There were still plenty more. He felt arms wrap around him as Marjan pulled him into a hug, simply holding him as he cried.

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

TK was thumbing through the book Paul left him when Becky approached him. His heart was immediately in his throat and he was about to ask her what was wrong when he noticed that she was grinning.

“He’s awake,” she informed him, “has been for a little bit now. The doctors are running some tests right now so his parents have stepped out, but they should be done shortly, if you want to go see him.”

“Yes,” TK said immediately, “of course. Thank you.”

Becky gave him a warm smile, “It’s the least I could do. I do love a happy ending, after all. Give it about 5 minutes and then the doctors should be done.”

TK nodded, hardly daring to believe that this was real. Carlos was awake. He was okay. “Thank you,” he called out to Becky again as she walked away, “really.”

She gave him another smile before she disappeared around the corner and he was left to wait. He pulled out his phone to send a quick update in the group chat: Carlos was awake and he’d give them more details when he had them. There was a flurry of enthusiastic responses and well wishes before TK realized the 5 minutes were almost up and pulled himself out of his seat, heading towards Carlos.

He crossed to the door almost hesitantly, not quite able to shake the fear that maybe Becky had been wrong, that maybe he was somehow imagining this whole thing. But when he stepped inside and was met with a warm, exhausted gaze from familiar brown eyes, he almost staggered in relief.

“Carlos,” TK breathed and the weak, tired smile he received in return was without a doubt the best sight he had seen in days.

“What are you doing way over there?” Carlos asked him and TK was across the room in an instant, skidding to a halt at Carlos’s beside and placing a tender kiss to the top of his head. He blinked away the tears threatening to fall as he studied Carlos. There was so much he wanted to say to him, so much he needed to say. He just wasn’t sure where to start.

“Hi,” he settled on, and winced. As bedside greetings after a traumatic injury went, it wasn’t a good one.

Thankfully, Carlos chuckled, “Hi to you too. How are you doing?”

“Me?” TK asked incredulously, “Carlos, I’m not the one who nearly died.”

“No,” Carlos agreed, voice growing more serious as he studied him, “but my mom spent some time going on about how my friend ‘TJ’ saved my life. If that had been me and it had been you, I don’t think I would be okay.”

TK shook his head, “Can’t you just worry about yourself for once like a normal person,” he gripped, but there was no heat in his words. Carlos raised an eyebrow at him before he sighed. “It’s been rough,” he admitted, “it wasn’t easy and definitely not an experience I am ever looking to relive, but if it meant saving you I would do it a thousand more times.” He held Carlos’s gaze for several long moments in the wake of his words, making sure that his boyfriend understood just how much he meant it. Any amount of pain or suffering on his own part was acceptable long as Carlos was alive and well at the end of it all.

“But you’re awake now and you’re going to be okay,” he concluded after some time, “nothing else matters.”

“From what I’ve heard, there might be one more thing that matters.” At TK’s questioning look he explained, “My parents. They referred to you as my friend. Did you…?”

He trailed off but TK shook his head vigorously, “No,” he said firmly, “of course not. I promised you you could tell them on your own terms, that I was fine with being the friend as long as it took. I meant that.”

“Ty,” Carlos said softly, squeezing their linked hands and giving him a sad look, “babe. You could have said something. I wouldn’t have been mad. Thinking about you going through this by yourself is worse than any possibility of my parents’ reaction.”

“I wasn’t by myself,” he reminded Carlos, “I had my team. Our friends. I was never alone in this.”

“Remind me to thank them.”

“Oh don’t worry,” TK quipped lightly, leaning into this new topic in an effort to leave talk of his parents and the endless waiting behind, “I am sure they will be here the moment you are allowed more visitors.”

Carlos laughed lightly until he broke off with a grimace of pain. TK leaned forward anxiously, “Are you okay? Does it hurt too badly? Should I get a nurse? Do you--”

“Ty,” Carlos said firmly, “it’s okay. I’m okay. I just jostled things a bit, stop worrying.”

“I don’t think you are ever going to make that possible, Carlos Reyes.”

“Look who’s talking.”

TK opened his mouth to fire a response back but any retort he may have made was interrupted by the arrival of Andrea and Gabriel Reyes in the doorway. TK froze and went to pull his hand out of Carlos’s grasp, but Carlos held tight.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, out of here?” TK answered, though it came out more like a question, “To give you some time with your parents?”

Carlos shook his head, “You’re not going anywhere. You belong here.” He turned to his parents, who were watching with curious gazes from the doorway, “Mom, Dad, there’s something I need to tell you.”

TK leaned in closer, voice low in Carlos’s ear, “Maybe waking up from a medically induced coma is not the time for major life decisions, babe. You don’t have to do this now.”

Carlos turned his head to meet TK’s dubious expression with his own, “If not now, when? You said it yourself: nothing ever stays the same.”

“Are you sure?”

Carlos smiled at him and squeezed their still intertwined hands, “Yeah, I am.”

He turned his gaze back to his parents, who were watching the proceedings curiously, “I know you’ve already met TK,” he told them, “and I told you he was a friend from work. But I lied to you, he is so much more than that. I’d like you to formally meet my boyfriend, TK Strand.”

TK anxiously watched their reactions only to see that while there were many emotions playing out on the Reyes’ faces, surprise was not amongst them.

“You knew,” he blurts out, unable to help himself.

Gabriel Reyes shrugged, “We were pretty sure after we met y’all at the market, but when you didn’t say anything when we got here we weren’t so sure and we didn’t want to press,” he began. “But seeing how worried you were, and how often you were here, I figured there was something we didn’t know. Plus, you’re wearing his shirt.”

TK looked down at the old APD sweatshirt he barely remembered grabbing on his trip home sheepishly and he could feel Carlos laughing light beside him.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Andrea asked him, eyes wide with sympathy, “All that time you spent waiting by yourself…”

“I made Carlos a promise,” he said simply, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand even as he spoke to his parents. “I promised him he could tell you on his own terms in his own time, and I would never break a promise I made to him for anything.”

The next thing he knew Andrea’s arms were around him again, squeezing him in a bone crushing hug. He nearly staggered back from the force of it, shooting a bewildered look over her shoulder to Carlos, who is smiling fondly at them.

“I was hoping we were right,” she told him softly, “all that time you were, how deeply you cared for him. I am so glad we were, and so happy that my son has someone to love him as much as you do.”

She pulled away to give him a teary smile that he returned. Gabriel stepped forward to wrap an arm around his wife’s shoulder and lean forward to offer TK an outstretched hand.

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you, TK,” he said warmly. TK smiled at him before taking the offered hand.

“Likewise, sir.”

They ended the handshake and TK looked back to Carlos to see him beaming at him. He shifted over in his bed to make room for TK to perch on the edge beside him. TK did, happily, readjusting the grip of their joined hands so they could rest comfortably in Carlos’s lap.

“I always knew they would like you,” Carlos told him with a grin, raising an eyebrow at his parents, “but I didn’t know what detectives they were.”

“I am a Texas Ranger son,” Gabriel deadpanned, “in case you have forgotten.”

Carlos rolled his eyes at his father, earning him a lackluster admonishment from his mother and TK let the warmth of this moment settle around him. He could tell Carlos’s parents still had questions, he knew there would be some hard conversations to be had in the coming days. But for now they were all here together, and Carlos was okay. Their secret was out and TK didn’t have to hide the love he felt for this man for anyone ever again. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to the top of Carlos’s head, savoring the ability to do so and the way Carlos leaned into him in turn.

Things weren’t perfect but at this moment they were pretty close, and that was more than enough.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tarlos #tarlos fic #my writing #userkimmy #userjilly #userac #usermaximus #userbones #tuserpaige #laeipoo #maizsnex #buckybarnesalways #immortalstrand #reyeslonestartag #hierophvnts

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atruththatyoudeny · 3 years

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Happy 28th! Here are all the 14 fics I read and enjoyed this month. As always, all the love for all the amazing authors in this fandom! ♥

In The Still Of The Night | jacaranda_bloom | Dirty Dancing AU - a/b/o - prejudice - gender stereotyping - class divide - angst - pining - smut - 69k In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love. In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance. When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together? OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

Plant New Seeds in the Melody | 28sunflowers | enemies to friends to lovers - miscommunication - misunderstandings - emotional hurt/comfort - Original Character Death - grief/mourning - slow build - smut - 58k After losing his husband in a tragic car accident, the last thing Louis needs is to keep running into popstar Harry Styles, who David was quite fond of. Obviously, that’s exactly what keeps happening. But as their unlikely friendship blossoms, Louis realizes that, maybe, having Harry in his life was the only good thing that came out of his adverse circumstances. Harry could be just the right person to help Louis find trust and intimacy in someone new.

take my hand, wreck my plans | amomentoflove | Cinderella AU - a/b/o - royalty - Minor Character Death - emotional abuse - magic - 38k Louis meets the man in the center of the room, feeling every eye on him. “Mr. H,” he whispers. The man smiles brightly and laughs as if he can’t believe his eyes. “It’s you,” he says breathlessly. “I didn’t think I would see you again.” “Nor I you, especially under these circumstances.” “Even so,” Mr H says, his eyes bouncing from Louis’ eyes to his lips. “Will you do me a great honor and join me in leading the first … um…” “Dance?” Mr. H laughs and nods. “Yes, that’s the one.” Louis bites his lips and doesn’t hesitate before whispering, “Yes.” Mr. H beams and reaches for Louis’ hand. Sparks fly at the touch and a zing of excitement shoots through Louis’ body. His face heats up as he’s afraid his scent would give away his feelings towards the other man.

One More Taste of Your Lips | Canadianlarrie & MsHydeStylinson | canon compliant - reunion tour - angst - internalized homophobia/biphobia - cheating - smut - Coming Out - 80k It had been eight years since the hiatus began, and Louis had spent that time writing and recording music, touring and making it safely through the pandemic. When the opportunity arose to go back on tour with One Direction, Louis knew he'd be a fool not to take it. Sure, life on the road would be different after all this time apart, but he was looking forward to experiencing that comradery again. What he hadn't realised was that living the better part of nine months in each other's pockets was bound to dredge up issues from his past. And when one of the pockets belonged to Harry, who he'd had a rather unconventional friendship with that drifted apart during their last tour, life on the road again would upend both their lives in irrevocable ways. * Harry wasn’t that sixteen year old boy anymore. Nor was he the young man in his late teens who was on the cusp of conquering the entire world. But some traits seemed to remain the same; his vibrant green eyes, the dimples set deeply in his cheeks whenever he laughed earnestly, or his curls that were the same shade of cocoa that Louis remembered fondly. And yet, Louis had absolutely no idea who this man that stood a mere twenty paces away was today.

Old Photographs & Times I'll Remember | jaerie | time travel - Eroda - period-typical homophobia - anxiety - depression - discussion about suicide - self-discovery - post-break up - 54k Carefully he set that negative down and lifted the paper to see there was another beneath. This one again was a young man, this time posed against an antique car. He lifted a few more negatives out one by one, each a portrait of the same man with various backdrops. The man in a meadow, in an office, leaning against a doorframe — even one in his underwear grinning at the camera. On the edge of each negative printed in slanted, handwritten characters were the initials and date. H.S. 1924. He quickly but carefully packed them back into the box and buzzed with excitement. He couldn’t wait to develop them to see exactly what had been captured in the images. It was a find that felt like a puzzle to piece together. H.S. was likely the man in the photographs as well as the owner of the suitcase. Who was he? Why had his suitcase found its way into Niall’s attic? Was he still alive and well somewhere in the world? A camera, a suitcase, and a relationship forged through time.

Know a Trick or Two | SadaVeniren | Harry Potter setting - mpreg - magic - kid fic - - genderfluid character - smut - intersex - 44k The night before Louis is scheduled for a Portkey to begin training with the Vratsa Vultures in Bulgaria he heads into Muggle London for one last night of fun. A few months later he finds out he’s having a child. Eleven years ago Harry had a one night stand and now there’s a strange man on his doorstep telling him his daughter is something called a wizard and she’s got a place at the British wizarding school Hogwarts. Aka the one where Muggle Harry and Wizard Louis have a one night stand and get more than they bargained out of it.

come away with me | suspendrs | Minor Character Death - friends to lovers - sexuality crisis - emotional hurt/comfort - anxiety - smut - 80k Louis had such big plans. He wanted so much out of life, and so did Amy. Now Bridget is going to grow up without a mother, and she’s always going to wonder what it would be like if this hadn’t happened. He wonders if she’ll blame him for her mother’s death as she gets older, or if she’ll understand that this is just as painful for Louis as it is for her. Louis doesn’t know how he’s going to raise her on his own, because he’s a fantastic father, yes, but he’s always been the fun parent, and Amy was in charge of the rules. He doesn’t know how to make sure Bridget has everything she needs all the time, doesn’t know how to make her favorite meal or how to do that one braid she loves to have in her hair or how to teach her to be the best person she can be. He doesn’t know how to live without Amy, he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Or, Louis has to pick up the pieces of his and his daughter's life after his wife dies, and Harry is a beautiful stranger that just wants to help.

we made our promises (we said our vows) | millsx | Military AU - established relationship - kid fic - angst - hurt/comfort - mentions of PTSD - mentions of depressions - mentions of anxiety - injury - long-distance relationship - 21k Fairy tales always end with the Happily Ever After; the princess escapes her evil stepmother and gets married to the knight in shining armor. It turns out real life doesn’t care about Happily Ever Afters and sometimes problems appear when you don’t expect them to. Harry sure didn’t, not after years of being married.

Love, Ever After | jacaranda_bloom | a/b/o - farmers markets - soulmates - pining - miscommunication - fluff - banter - smut - 21k One would assume that the charismatic omega in charge of the local matchmaking service would have found a mate and settled down ages ago. His clients, in fact, are always a bit surprised when they come to learn that Louis is still single. But Louis doesn’t mind, not really. His standards are just high; he is happy holding out for his alpha, his soulmate, and chooses to not waste his time with anyone else, despite what his friends might think. That is, until his best mate from uni drags him out of bed far too early on a Saturday morning after a night of drinking to go to a farmers market, of all places. It’s there that he proceeds to make an utter fool of himself in front of the hottest alpha he has ever laid eyes on. There’s truly no coming back from that, is there? OR The one where omega Louis makes love matches, alpha Harry makes cheese, and meddling friends might finally make their dreams of finding their soulmate come true.

Hometown | allwaswell16 | High School - College/university - driving - heartbreak - memories - friendship - happy ending - angst - 2k On the day Harry gets his driver’s licence, he drives through the suburbs, heartbroken that he can’t drive home to Louis.

fever dream high | wildestdreams | friends to lovers - childhood friends - a/b/o - fluff - angst - smut - mutual pining - High School - 30k "Excuse me, what?" Harry licked his lips, carefully looking him in the eyes. "I will spend your heat with you so you're ready by Monday to play your game." "Harry," Louis began, suddenly at a loss for words. "I couldn't ask you to do that." "Why not? You just said you trust me." "You're my best friend. There's no one I trust more than you." "Then what's the problem?" "Well, friends don't usually help you through your heats or ruts, so excuse me for being a little skeptical." or A High School ABO AU where Harry and Louis are best friends and nothing more until things start getting a little complicated and they're faced with feelings they never wanted to confront.

We are the same, you run in my veins | 28sunflowers | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o- soulmates - wolves -pack dynamics - 4k When the time for Louis to become the Alpha leader of his pack comes, he can’t rise to the occasion for not being yet bonded. A series of trips to neighbouring packs in search of his soulmate is fruitless until he meets one of the other packs’ Alpha heir. Harry. The world seems to stop turning for a second and then it shifts, clicking into its axis. All the distress and wrongness he felt until that very moment suddenly disappears. Louis is finally whole. But two Alpha leaders from different tribes soulbonding is something unheard of before.

Divinely Blessed | thinlines | a/b/o - non-traditional a/b/o - established relationship - PWP - 17k “I heard you, Ni. But what do you mean?” “What do you mean what I mean?” Harry rolled his eyes as he shoved his alpha friend down onto a seat. “Did you mean you lick someone out or…?” “Nah, mate! It was me! I got licked out!” Harry could only stare at Niall in horror. Alpha Harry prides himself on having the bravest and most caring omega who might or might not just fulfill his sudden curiosity.

This chemistry like candy to me | CuckooTrooke | a/b/o - kink discovery - mpreg - male lactation - smut - 8k "It's just... Are you aware, that, uh... You're- You're kind of leaking." Harry feels his blood run cold. The heart that was thudding so loud and fast drops to his stomach, and his shoulders hunch in embarrassment. "Excuse me?" Harry asks once he manages to gather himself and recover from the shock. He automatically steps back but since he's already squeezed in the corner, it doesn't do much to put any distance between them, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" "Wha- No. Oh my god, I wouldn't- No," The man says as he realizes the misunderstanding, and wildly gestures to his chest, "I mean your- Your chest. Is leaking." OR Harry is 8 months pregnant with a poor balance and traitorous nipples. Unfortunately for him, that is precisely when he meets a beautiful alpha in a packed London Tube. Fortunately for him, the said alpha might just be the best thing he has ever come across.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #my reads #monthly fic rec #monthly reads #completed fics #larry fics

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chalkrevelations · 3 years

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So, Word of Honor Ep 23, and LISTEN. This is going to be another long one. We are in it, now.

(Clearly, spoilers, so if you’re thinking you might want to start watching and don’t want to know everything up front, scroll away and come back after you watch the ep.)

Look, I’m just gonna talk about this first because I can’t even process anything else, or function, until I get this out of the way: I came for the bl and the pretty boys, but at this point, I have to reiterate what I said after Ep 22, that I am so grateful Zhou Ye got her fingers into Gu Xiang and absolutely refused to let go of this role, through everything. She’s going on my actors-to-follow list, and I’ll also be following scriptwriter Xiao Chu into whatever she writes from now on. A little bit, I’ve come out of Ep 23 thinking, did anything else even happen, other than That Scene with A-Xiang and Wen Kexing? (Oh, yeah, That Other Scene with Wen Kexing and Cao Weining about Gu Xiang.) The show is going to have to work to top That Scene for me. The first time watching, I couldn’t even really focus on how the Gu Xiang/Cao Weining and Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu relationships continue to reflect each other and how everything A-Xiang expresses during this conversation is exactly what Wen Kexing feels/fears about himself but cannot say out loud. All of that was there, and I mentally picked through it and unpacked it some more on a re-watch of the scene, but the first time through, I was too busy being legit distressed about Gu Xiang’s fear and pain and how desperately she wants this new thing and how afraid she is, not only of fucking it up or having it fucked up for her, but of getting it. Last night at dinner I compared this storyline to a kind of reverse Persephone story, where she’s being pulled by her lover OUT of the land of death, but is nevertheless having to leave behind everything and everyone she knows and is familiar with, including her beloved brother/parent figure. And all this after being told for essentially her whole life that what she’s doing is forbidden and unworkable, that the human world and the world of Ghost Valley do not mix. (We just saw Wen Kexing have his own little mental stall over this, just so the show can make sure we don’t forget.) And Gu Xiang is so unprepared for all of this and so terrified by it, despite the fact she wants it so badly, that she literally cannot do anything - this shining, clever, fierce girl who will stab you if you look at her the wrong way because she’s been taught to survive above all else - she can’t do anything other than sit down with her arms wrapped around her knees pulled to her chest so that she’s the smallest target possible, protecting all the tenderest, most vulnerable places, and weep. Y’all, it is killing me even thinking about it. I might have to take a minute.

So, then they come at me with the second hit of the one-two punch, which is the scene between Wen Kexing and Cao Weining, where Wen Kexing talks about how this little girl not only saved him, but he calls her meimei, and at that point, I’m done. I’m just. There’s nothing else I need right now from this show. I realize this is supposed to be a story about Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu, and up until now, my ride-or-die has been Zhou Zishu, but whatever. Fine. I WANT TO LIVE HERE AT LI MANOR FOREVER, SHOW, WHY MUST A-XIANG AND CAO-XIONG GO BACK TO HIS SECT? Listen, I think it is a far, far better idea if Cao Weining marries in to Four Seasons Manor, and Gu Xiang’s paternal figure is the ... lol, I almost just called him the Ghost General ... he is who he is, so frankly, I don’t know why he should be so concerned about following social conventions, like having daughters of the house marry out. (I know you think you’re protecting her, Lao Wen, but YOU ARE BREAKING UP THE FAMILY. I need them to stay with the rest of you forever. I need Zhou Zishu to continue to call A-Xiang a “good girl,” because I suspect that hasn’t happened very often in her life, and she needs more of it.) Then, as a last kick in the ribs, once I’m down, the show has WKX tell A-Xiang that she’s not a wild girl because she’s his girl. Thanks, show, I didn’t need my heart for anything like pumping blood to oxygenate my brain or any of my body parts. It’s OK. I can do without it.

Anyway, going back and looking at multiple story-telling levels of all this, there’s the additional issue that during That Scene, A-Xiang is also a proxy for Wen Kexing, saying things that he can’t. (For emotional and psychological reasons within the show, and for practical reasons because they probably wouldn’t pass censorship.) Maybe some things that he can’t even let himself think, at this point. So every time, from here on out, when Zhou Zishu asks Wen Kexing about his past and Wen Kexing momentarily freezes with that trapped look on his face, we can think back to this conversation with A-Xiang and realize that Wen Kexing is terrified by his relationship with Zhou Zishu, despite how desperately he wants this new thing. He is so afraid of fucking it up, but he’s also so afraid of getting it, and he’s so unprepared for it that he literally cannot do anything - this fierce survivor, this ghost king, who will crawl over corpses and skin a guy alive and kill you if you look at him the wrong way because almost (almost) all he’s known is to survive above all else - he cannot do anything except mentally and emotionally curl up so that he’s the smallest target possible, protecting all the tenderest, most vulnerable places. So thanks, show, for what promises to be a repeated exercise of stabbing me in the heart.

Just a little bit more about these scenes: I also think we’re getting at least one, maybe two other foils in the story-telling, which are more about the Wen Kexing-Gu Xiang relationship. Maybe less supported but nevertheless intriguing, I have to wonder if, when he took on that little girl despite (or maybe because of) still being essentially a child himself, Wen Kexing was trying to re-create - even subconsciously - something of the shixiong-shidi relationship he experienced for that brief time with Zhou Zishu as a child. Yes, she saved him by making him keep his heart, because he had this actual nurturing relationship to at least try to model their relationship on. I also think that we’re maybe supposed to be seeing them as a foil to Xie Wang and his AWFUL yifu, who appears to have taken on a kid and turned him into a murder weapon not in any effort to help him survive, but to use him as a tool in his quest for power. Both Wen Kexing and Zhao Jing have produced Poorly Socialized Murder Babies Who Love Them Very Much, but I think Wen Kexing actually had his kid’s best interests at heart, as he understood them, and tried to do the best he could with the extremely broken tool box he had to hand. Also, he loves her back. All that doesn’t mean she’s not fucked up or necessarily any better prepared for the “human” world than Xie Wang, but it may have made the difference between an amoral murder baby who can learn better and an actual sociopath.

In other comparisons, that first convo of the ep between Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing - when ZZS says that he doesn’t want to see more sins on WKX’s hands - is essentially the same convo that Cao Weining had with Gu Xiang in the previous ep, when he tells her that he wants her to be more careful because he knows she actually will feel bad for killing innocent people. This is the same conversation because these two relationships are the same relationship. (Note, I don’t think they started out like this, or that their beginnings were all that similar. Cao Weining was much more of a pursuer and initiator than Zhou Zishu was, in the beginning. But I think the courses of the two relationships have converged, at this point, with Cao Weining and Zhou Zishu knowing what they want and being all in, while Gu Xiang and Wen Kexing also want it but are too fucking scared of it for practically the same reasons.)

Meanwhile, speaking of Xie Wang - what are you up to Xie’er? Do you want the Water of Lethe so you can drink it and get over your awful yifu? Are you finally at the point that you’re doing some critical thinking about this relationship? Or do you want the Water of Lethe so you can slip it to your awful yifu, so that he’ll forget about his obsessions with power that prevent him from focusing on YOU? You call Beauty Ghost an idiot, but I think you may be empathizing (though not sympathizing) a bit much with the women of the Department of the Unfaithful.

Finally, that brief little moment of Zhou Zishu’s face when Wen Kexing spits out his wine after stealing it from him ... Oh, god. You didn’t realize how bad it tasted, did you? Your sense of taste is going.

#zhou ye #gu xiang #wen kexing #zhou zishu #cao weining #xie wang #word of honor #little and broken #but still good #word of honor episode reax

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imperiuswrecked · 3 years

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To me, it doesn’t make sense to make Magneto the main villain because it has been done so much before and it would connect it so much to the Fox Films. Also I think there is a GREAT laziness in writing Magneto especially in films. He generally didn’t want to kill all humans, subjugate them yes because he doesn’t trust them. Which isn’t a ‘good guy’ move in itself and he slips in and out of.

He legit murdered genocide I think when he was going to kill all humans. Like no.

I also think that the average cinema goer likes Magneto too much… or maybe that is me. It would also require them to recast the most famous faces of the franchises?

Like is anyone going to care if they recast Jean, Scott, Iceman, Rogue, Kitty, Beast even Mystique but Magneto? I don’t know. I have long been a fan of an actual Jewish actor playing Magneto but following Ian McKellan would be difficult for the casual fans to accept. I don’t think Fassbender left such an amazing impression.

Even my most average MCU fans friends (and god they love the MCU 😤 but I see past it) still talk about how much they want to see a Magneto solo film.

To me I would put the focus on their reveal and sentinels. Then again I thought they’ll go through Krakoa stuff. Like it turns out the mutants have been living on this Island etc

With the ‘simpler times’ comment I have to for the sake of my sanity have to think that it was because Pietro knew where he was. Things were clear to him, as much as it hurt he had his sister. The following trauma had not occurred. Again I don’t think this is true but I am trying to reason bad writing. He didn’t doubt his morality but was indebted and controlled. Shitty actions were out of his control.

I don’t read Avengers so I didn’t know he was shelved for so long.

I think the Trial of Magneto is trying to ride on the coattails of Wandavision because even though she’s not a mutant a lot of the internet was wanting Magneto to show up. So what is the best way to get those fans who wanted to see that? Set up a family comic book where they establish the family again because I guess the MCU fans heard they’ve changed their background and themselves didn’t like it.

I see the Trial of Magneto as something poorly thought out as they saw what the audience was interested in. The timeline kind of clashes uncomfortably with Inferno. Which makes me think it was wedged in there to ride the Wandavision train and undo the retcon on the side of the main storyline.

Thank you for reading my essay/rant

Ok so I'm going to first say you have a lot of great thoughts and great on picking up the whole forced feeling. You are right, it does feel wedged in there and it does feel forced because that's exactly what Marvel did.

The Trial of Magneto was supposed to be an X-Factor plot, it was Leah Williams next arc, here's an article link talking about her podcast: link (yes I know it's bleeding cool but I don't have time to listen to the podcast)

Leah Williams tells us that X-Factor was canceled because Leah's pitch for the Magneto/Wanda story for X-Factor, now called Trial Of Magneto, became such a popular pitch at Marvel but they thought the reader numbers for X-Factor wasn't big enough for this story, so they wanted it as a separate comic. And canceled X-Factor #10 rather than seeing it run as originally planned, with the Trial beginning in X-Factor #15. Williams says she only learned about the cancellation of X-Factor when she was writing #9, so as she had to finish the series quickly, squeezing six issues worth of story into those last two issues, calling it "cramped and rushed".

So I'm not a fan of Leah but the way Marvel treats it's writers has always been terrible so this cancellation doesn't surprise me. Could this be about W*ndaVision? It's likely, but it's more likely this has to do with Hickman bowing out. It's no secret literally everyone hated the retcon and I always knew it would be undone but I didn't think it would take 6 years but here we are.

Hickman leaving is a bigger thing, he stated in an interview ( link ) that he had planned Krakoa and X-Men to be a 3 arc story, and he wasn't allowed to move onto the 2nd arc because the clowns at Marvel liked the idea of Krakoa too much and I'm so mad because that's exactly the kinda behavior that annoys me with the fans, them thinking Krakoa is just a fun playground for the mutants to mess around with.

"Oh, plans have changed entirely," Hickman says. "When I pitched the X-Men story I wanted to do, I pitched a very big, very broad, three-act, three-event narrative, the first of which was House of X. And while this loosely worked as a three-year plan, I told Marvel upfront that I honestly had no idea how long the first part would last because there were a lot of interesting ideas that I had seeded that other creators would want to play with, and so, we left this rather open-ended. I was also pretty clear with all the writers that came into the office what the initial, three-act plan was so no one would be surprised when it was time for the line to pivot." Hickman continues, "However, I also knew that I was cooking with dynamite, and it was very possible that what I had written in House of X, and the ideas contained within, was not actually the first act of a three-act story, but something that resonated more deeply and worked more like Giant-Size X-Men, where it would represent a paradigm shift in the entire X-Men line for a prolonged period of time. So, during the pandemic, when the time came for me to start pointing things toward writing the second-act event, I asked everyone if they were ready for me to do that, and to a man, everyone wanted to stay in the first act. It was really interesting, because I appreciated that House of X resonated with them to the extent that they didn't want it to end, but the reality was that I knew I would be leaving the line early."

I'm so MAD because the thing I was predicting, that Hickman would have it come crashing down and everything would be revealed to be terrible and Mutant Death Sex Cult Island wasn't a paradise is never going to happen because the fucking CLOWNS at Marvel don't want him to move past it. I may have my personal gripes about some of Hickman's writing but we can't deny the man wrote one of the best if only the best Marvel Event with Fantastic Four/Avengers/Secret War.

As for the simpler times comment, like I have my theories that I wrote out here, and that's what I think is most likely but I do think Pietro's life has never been easy or simple once his adoptive parents died. Pietro could be drinking to a time before the Brotherhood.

I would love for a Jewish actor to play Magneto and any other characters who are Jewish. I would love for a Jewish writer to be able to write them too. However Ian's performance literally set him in the minds of the people as Magneto, not even Fassbender's bleh one note Magneto could compare. Imo the only reason people liked the younger Magneto was because he was young, handsome (? ig idk i dont simp for him) and they could ship him with young professor X (cowards. where is the old man ship???) But I feel like a new actor could definitely fill the role if they are Jewish and the writing was good.

Magneto's writing in comics... well I just wish we could have a Jewish writer for him. There's some great stuff for him but I feel like characters like him and Doom could be written better by non white/american writers.

Although by today's standards the og X-Men trilogy doesn't hold up I will defend the first two movies with my life simply because after Blade these movies opened up the idea that a good serious, non campy version where characters called Magneto and Cyclops were taken seriously. X2 in my mind was the definitive X-Men movie. Was it totally comic accurate? No, but it doesn't do what the MCU does, it doesn't treat the watcher like they need to have their hand held through all the military propaganda and "hints to the comics". Also side note; the reason no one cared about any of the other X-Men being recast is because all through most of the X-Men movies the focal story point has been Professor X vs Magneto. If they really want people to care about those characters/actors then we would need stories that focused on them. Not like how Storm barely had any character growth or plot in the og X-Men and even young Ororo got mishandled by the script. This is why I feel we should have "origin movies" for the X-Men that don't do what Wolverine Origins did and try to make a whole new cast but instead should use the stories as they are. If it was Kurt's story then we would see him join the X-Men, and have the other actors revolve around that. Same with each of the others, the X-Men work best when they are working off each other and each given enough screen/page time to shine. Unfortunately we all have our favorites, even movies and writers, so those are who are going to be pushed for fans to love.

Thank you for your long rant and sorry for my own long rant/reply.

#xmen #x men #comic talk #xmcu #magneto #erik lensherr #imp answers

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desiredmalfoy · 3 years

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Your Sweater

Character: Pansy Parkinson

Theme: Angst; one-sided pinning

T/W: Self-hate, body image issues please be careful when reading if this triggers you. Please let me know if there is another trigger I forgot to mention.

Note: Takes place during sixth year. No Voldemort in this universe. Just for the purpose of this story, Remus is the permeant DADA professor (no curse).

This deals with a lot of heavy stuff that has to deal with self-hate. This idea came to me randomly one morning and I just wrote and came out with this.

Song Inspiration: Heather by Conan Gray

It would be no surprise to anyone that Pansy Parkinson had a crush on Draco Malloy. Unfortunately for her, her younger self had made it painfully obvious to everyone that Draco was her crush. But as they grew older, she toned down her public affection for the boy. Opting that it was better for her public image to not be seen as the girl obsessed with Draco Malloy. Going as far as to joke with her friends that she’s glad her silly crush on Draco was over. If only they knew that her crush for him only grown and that it took all her strength to keep it hidden.

Pansy Parkinson no longer wanted to be seen as pathetic. Pathetic for chasing a boy who was never going to love you.

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater.

It was freezing and Pansy had stupidly forgotten her sweater in her dorm room. She forgot to grab it as she rushed out the door. She was in a rush to get to the Care of Magical Creatures class that was held outside by Hagrid. Normally she wouldn’t care about being late to such a pathetic class but she had received an owl from her parents. They had told her that they had been informed by her constant tardiness to this particular class. Her mother made it clear that no Parkinson should ever be displaying such behavior. And now she’s stuck outside running the risk of freezing to death.

She shivered as she attempted to keep herself warm with just her robe. It wasn’t bloody helping at all.

She hadn’t noticed that Draco was watching her as she slightly bounced in place to attempt to keep warm.

“Here”, Draco mumbled to her as he handed her his sweater. “Your shivering is distracting.”

“Thanks, Malfoy”, Pansy said with a slight eye roll. She took the warm sweater from his hands and tried to put it on as quickly as possible. “I’m surprised you want to hear anything Hagrid has to say.”

“I don’t”, Draco stated with an eye roll.

It didn’t matter why he had given her his sweater. All that mattered to Pansy is that now his entire scent engulfed her. She longed for the moment he felt the same way she did.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty

Pug face

She hated that nickname with a burning passion. No one dared to say it directly to her face. They were scared of what the young girl would do to them if they did. But Pansy heard as students uttered that idiotic name when she passed by. The first time she ever heard someone call her that was Potter and his little followers. These words stung her a bit but she quickly morphed her face back into a stoic expression. She acted as though she hadn’t just heard a bunch of Gryffindor's insult her about looks. Ever since that first encounter with it, it became more prominent in her head that quite a few people called her that.

That horrid name is what had her in such a bad mood currently. It wasn’t helping that Draco was now walking towards their regular spot with you.

You. The girl that magnified Pansy’s insecurities to a maximum. The girl who made Pansy realize every imperfection she had. The girl who had basically stolen her best friend.

The girl that was now wearing his sweater instead of Pansy.

The girl who had soft green eyes with specks of brown, contrasted Pansy’s boring brown eyes. She hated that everyone thought everything about you was better compared to her. Because if it wasn’t the truth, Draco would be by her side and not yours.

You were the girl that had long beautiful brown hair that reached your waist. Hair that shined under the light and looked so soft to the touch. Your hair flowed with each of your delicate movements. While Pansy had the same brown hair but hers was short and plain. It was nothing special. It was cruel how the universe had gifted you both with brown hair yet it had cursed Pansy with plainness. While it gifted you the beauty that anyone would envy.

And that envy was eating her up inside.

Kinda wish she were dead

Pansy wished you had stayed in the shadows of (y/house). She had wished you had stayed a nobody to everyone. Just like you had previously before you waltzed into Draco’s life in sixth year and unfortunately Pansy’s life as well. But fate had cruelly paired Draco with you for DADA. Well... Professor Lupin had paired you with him. She loathes Lupin for deciding to ever pair you up with Draco. While she got stuck working with the git Goyle.

She felt the anger boil within her as she saw Draco attempting to walk you through the wand movements of a simple defense spell. You were probably just pretending not to know so you could get close to him.

Angered burned in her chest when she attempted to make fun of your pathetic excuse of magic use during DADA. Draco actually had the audacity to sneer at her for making fun of the pathetic girl.

“Leave her alone Parkinson. She’s never done anything to you.”

Funny how the boy who never had a problem with making fun of anyone suddenly saw wrong in her actions.

Those words burned in her brain as she saw your friendship with Draco begin to bloom. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.

That friendship eventually blossomed into a relationship.

She wished you would just disappear. Disappear from her life and most importantly Draco’s.

Holding your hand. Put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder.

“Why are we waiting again”, Pansy asked annoyed that they hadn’t left yet for their trip to Hogsmeade.

“We’re not even late”, Draco scoffed at her. “You can all leave and I’ll wait here.”

“Wait for what”, Pansy asked him again. Annoyed at the fact that she had once again been left out of something.

“Are you really that dense Parkinson”, Blaise rolled his eyes at her. “He’s waiting for the (y/n).”

“Yeah it’s not like he hasn’t been fawning over her for the past weeks”, Goyle laughed.

“Well, my life doesn’t revolve around Malfoy’s love life. So how would I know?” Of course he’d be waiting for her.

“Hi sorry I’m late”, (y/n) said as she ran running down the hall toward the group of Slytherins. “ I couldn’t find my favorite sweater.”

“Hi everyone”, she said sickingly sweetly as she waved to the group. They boys returned her greeting with a small wave. Pansy simply rolled her eyes.

“I would’ve let you borrow mine”, Draco said as he grabbed her hand. This caused a frown to form on Pansy’s lips. Could you be any more annoying?

“Let’s go already. I’m getting cold just standing around.”

“You’re so impatient Parkinson,” Blaise said with an eye roll. “Next time bring a better coat.”

Draco was no longer paying attention to her. His full attention was on you.

But you like her better, wish I were HER.

Pansy sat down at the table waiting for her date to return with their drinks. She had stupidly hoped Draco would gain some sense and ask her to the End of the Year Ball. But she was extremely naïve to even expect that much. She knew he was still dating (y/n) but deep down she wished he would’ve asked her.

She didn’t understand why Draco failed to pay attention to her. She was everything his parents wanted for him. A pure-blood that came from a good family with money. She was his perfect match.

But even she knew that Draco’s parents adored (y/n). Her mother had written her letting her know that Narcissa did nothing more then brag and fawn over your relationship with Draco. Her mother had rudely written “Maybe if you tried to be better Draco would actually notice you. Maybe if you were prettier.”

She watched from the edge of the great hall to the center of the dance floor where you had your arms placed around Draco’s neck. He stared deeply into your eyes, intoxicated by you.

She just wished that was her. She wished she was his whole world.

Important: I know I described brown eyes in a negative light (because it’s supposed to be self-hating). Just know that brown eyes are beautiful! I have brown eyes too. Please love your brown eyes and don’t look down on them. I know that generally, people tend to look down on their brown eyes so that’s why I wanted to write this little note at the end.

Note: Pansy is one of my favorite character and I absolutely adore her.

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weishenbwi · 3 years

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A Heavy Price to Pay, Ch. 4

Group: NCT

Pairing: MarkHyuck

Chapter: 4; 7 Deadly Sins (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

Words: 2823

CW: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (click on ao3 link for all tags & triggers); Read at your own risk

Summary: Not at how Mark f*cks Haechan's face on a resume paper and then goes to church and gives a Sermon on the 7 Deadly Sins. The idea came to me to include Johnny in this mess. I'm not sure how yet but JohnMark is too religious of a ship name to pass up in this blasphemous fic. 😔🙏 Read AO3 tags first!

Note: The "Amen." is the congregation saying that because they really do that so much in church, like after every sentence. 😂😂

“Good evening, Brother Mark? I trust the Lord finds you in good hands today?” Brother Johnny Suh. Or, the friend that smiles and waves and who he only talks to inside the church. He hasn’t been here long but he’s easily excitable and friendly with everything under the sun. It surprises Mark how Johnny doesn't have more friends in the church, although he has seen him drive off with various groups when service ends to go out for some food or late-night coffee. It seems to Mark that Johnny is sociable but not quick to make friends, perhaps a trust issue.

“I’m doing quite well Brother Johnny. And you? Are you ready for this evening’s sermon?“ Mark motions for Johnny to walk with him to his office while he gathers some notes he wants to highlight during tonight’s guidance.

“Yes sir, Brother Mark. I’m eager for all of tonight’s counsel, especially yours.” His smile is wide and bright. It reaches to his eyes and shines with a wholehearted display of faith and loyalty. It warms Mark’s heart to know someone as enthusiastic is among the flock now.

Mark shakes his head and acknowledges Johnny, which makes him smile - shy but earnest. He notices Johnny smiles at almost everything and that every time it’s sincere. A wonderful gift to the flock indeed. He’ll do well in the house to house ministry encouraging others to join with one beam of that charismatic and sincere smile. Mark finishes gathering his things and leaves to the main hall, Johnny at his heels. They shake hands and hug those who come inside, handing out pamphlets and other material to newcomers until the music starts and it’s time to find their respective seats.

“Have a wonderful evening Brother Johnny. I’ll see you after the meeting.” The older nods and makes his way to his parents who are sitting beside Mark’s own; he waves discreetly and takes his seat.

“... For this bounteous blessing, in Jesus’ name, we pray. Amen.” A resounding Amen from the church and it’s Mark’s turn to get on the platform and speak from his heart. He smiles once more at his parents and then he begins.

“Tonight, I thought we’d start a journey through the Seven Deadly Sins. Many of you know them by heart, memorizing them to avoid them and never get caught in a snare that the Devil would place before your feet.”

"Amen."

“For those of you who are new here or coming back to the fold, they are Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, and Sloth. Now the actual definition of many has changed over the courses and it might surprise some of you to know that they were not always as they are now. But God does not change. It is our understanding of his word and intention that changes."

"Amen."

“Today we understand them in a modern context and that is what I will do my best to convey and counsel... Through this 7 week journey, we’ll go through each Deadly Sin one by one - starting with Pride. But before we do that, an overview wouldn’t hurt. An intro for some and a refresher for many. These seven sins are as slippery as they come. Slippery like Haechan’s mouth against my heat, the younger's head bobbing up and down. Desperate. Eager. They entangle and ensnare before you realize they’ve done so and that is why we must always be on our guard against the devil, his demons, and their machinations. Please feel free to write down as many notes as you’d like. There will also be a recording of this that brother Suh can send to you upon request.

Now Pride. The original and most serious of the seven deadly sins. It was pride that made God cast Lucifer and a third of the angels from Heaven into Hell. Lucifer’s pride that he was God’s equal, that he didn’t have to submit. God loves us, it’s true brothers and sisters, but he is our maker, the creator of all life and of all things. We are not equal to him. Lucifer was guilty of pride when he put his own desires and urges before the welfare of everyone else. The same as Adam and Eve, the original sin. It manifests itself with humans in a similar way when people think are they better or superior, more important than others. A grave case of this has been the many genocides throughout our history. We are all equal in God’s eyes, from the smallest of us and beyond. Mark figures if there's one sin Haechan hasn't committed it is Pride. He wonders in what ways he can make Haechan commit it so that he could take his hand or a belt and punish until Haechan is crying, nose full of snot and despair. Perhaps subtle praises in class that turn into subtle jabs and doubt. We will explore more on this later and may God guide us in all our decisions.

Greed. We see this with politicians in every country, who hoard wealth and do not give to their people. Their time is coming and God’s Justice will prevail.”

"Amen."

"But Greed can also be as little as not donating to the Church when you have extra. Ah, I guess now’s a good time as any to pass around the Collection Plate.” He laughs and the congregation laughs with him. “Tonight more people will give of their wallets to the Lord. And he will bless you so sweetly. Amen.”

"Amen."

“Lust. Well, who here doesn’t know what Lust is? The pop stars and celebrities make it easy to see every day, don’t they? From Hollywood to Bollywood, everyone sells sex because it works to make their pockets richer. The devil works to fill you with sexual desire through these means. You cannot go without seeing someone show more of their skin than the Lord, our God, ever intended. That’s the wicked way of the world. And God he hopes to see Haechan, bare and naked, see him naked and exposed under the light of God and Mark’s control. We cannot succumb to the control of the Devil.”

"Amen."

“Envy… Do not covet the same pop stars and celebrities that sell you lust. For God said that our Kingdom and our riches are with him in Heaven, not the false riches that thieves break in and steal or that moths and rust destroy. Do not covet the new car your neighbor bought or his wife. Insatiable desires lead to fornication if they remain unchecked. Only pride weighs down the soul more than envy. It is a slippery slope, brothers and sisters.”

"Amen."

“Yes Amen. Our Lord promises us everlasting life and that is more than anything this world can offer. Now Gluttony… this one sneaks in just as easy. An all you can eat buffet? That is pure Gluttony brothers and sisters. I see some of you with shocked or confused faces but let me guide you… Gluttony isn’t just drinking too much alcohol. It can be found in Buffets and portion sizes from restaurants - and it is a Deadly Sin. Please be cautious brothers and sisters. Do not let the Devil get even an inch or he will take a mile.” And Mark couldn’t control his thought or how it gravitated toward the idea of a bent-over Haechan, bare and naked, tan skin on display and shining with sweat under harsh lights. Bent over beautifully with his ass sticking up just for Mark. And Mark bending down, a slap against flesh that makes Haechan grip the floor tighter, Mark circling around like he’s a lion that’s cornered his meal. Bending down and licking, sucking, making the younger boy mewl and moan, whimpering at the feeling of Mark’s tongue against his ass. Spreading. Sweating. All for Mark.

“Gluttony can be found in many ways. You can always pray to God, the Father, and ask him to make you stronger for him. Giving in to any sin is giving in to the Devil and he will possess you if you let him. And we will never let him. Isn’t that right brothers and sisters, not with the grace and mercy, the strength that God has given us. Can I get an Amen?!”

"AMEN!"

“Wrath. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord. Do not seek to make retribution to those who have wronged you. That is not your position or calling. Impatience and huffing when someone is taking too long in a line or when you’re waiting because some poor soul is not walking as fast as you. I’ve seen it, brothers and sisters. A poor old woman will take coins of her purse, her old and tired body failing, and people will grow impatient when all they are doing is waiting to pay for groceries that cost too much. I see some of you are laughing and nodding. You’ve seen it too, haven’t you brothers and sisters?” And by God will Haechan feel his wrath, his hands on Haechan, turning tanned skin swollen, red, purple, bruised. Vengeance is the Lord's but the Lord will work through Mark in ways the younger can't even imagine. It is God's will.

The congregation nods with an Amen and Mark continues.

“Wrath is self-destructive. It harms you and your loved ones and unsuspecting frail women and men at the grocery store. If you have the means and see something like this in front of you, offer to pay. As many of our older brothers and sisters know, they are living on little and although they deserve so much more, the government isn’t willing. If you see a situation like that, do not succumb to wrath. Pray to God and give of God. If you can, that is paying forward what God has already given you. And that is the way of the Lord Jesus Christ.”

"Amen."

“Sloth. Sloth is the desire to take the easy way out. It means not doing the will of God because the alternative is easier.” Sloth is what Mark witnessed Haechan do when he took the easy way out of sucking Mark’s dick instead of finding an “honest living”. It’s a sin Mark is going to make sure Haechan repeats. The boy is desperate and Mark has an abundance. Isn’t this helping the least of the lost sheep? “The one guilty of sloth is unwilling to do God’s will because of the effort it takes to do it. This can be in the form of not helping one’s neighbor or even the homeless on the side of the street. Most parents probably think it means not cleaning your room… And they’re right. If we are to obey our mother and father, then it does mean to do your chores. I imagine the parents are relieved at that.” Mark chuckles and the rest of the Congregation laughs.

After his Sermon, the members of the congregation go up to shake Mark’s hand and hug him, thanking him for an enlightening evening, one they’re sure to come back for next week. He thanks them and says all the praise goes to the Lord for speaking through him and allowing the Holy Spirit to reach those who came. He makes sure to thank everyone who listened and especially those who handled the sound equipment and collection plates. After Mark finishes helping one of the Brothers put their final touches on a study, he quietly dismisses himself. He still has to buy that burner phone and a lock for his office door.

He has his keys in the door to his car when he sees a tall figure running in his direction. “The Sermon was wonderful Brother Mark,” Johnny says, out of breath but having caught up. “The Seven Deadly Sins is kinda terrifying!” Johnny’s eyes are wide and he can tell the man is alarmed by the prospect.

“They are the Cardinal Sins, brother. They are meant to be alarming so as not to break them. This is why we study and pray and refuse to participate in anything the devil would trap us with.” His smile is kind and resolution firm and Johnny thinks that’s how he’s going to be one day. He’ll be just like Brother Mark, steadfast and loyal to God and His Word.

“It’s just… I think I’ve broken some of these, Brother. I… I don’t know who to tell. I would tell a priest but that’s not exactly my religion.” He laughs again but it doesn’t go unnoticed to Mark that Johnny clutches his Bible tighter. “I was wondering... “ He hesitates but Mark doesn’t interrupt. “I was just wondering if maybe you would… you would let me talk with you about this. I-I’m not really sure how to… I don’t know if I’m doing this right and I need someone to help guide me… umm... If you will. I mean... If you want to. I know you’re busy.”

Mark reaches out to Johnny's shoulder with a smile as wise and innocent as Timothy himself. “I would love to help Johnny. Let me just make sure I understand you correctly first. After the knowledge provided by this evening’s Sermon, you’ve come to think you’ve broken your loyalty to God by committing one or more of the Seven Sins and you want me to help you overcome whatever urges are making you sin so that your loyalty and faithfulness to the Lord will increase?”

Johnny’s eyes light up and his smile widens “Yes, that’s exactly it Brother Mark!! You said it much better than I could! Will you please help me overcome these urges so that I won’t give in again. I want to be as sturdy as a boulder, unmovable and devoted as possible. I know we’re only human but after your sermon, I just know I can do better!”

“It would be my pleasure, Brother Johnny. Let me work out my schedule and get back to you. I will talk with the other Brothers inside to see if they can help if I’m ever too thinly stretched with work and everything. How does that sound?”

“Oh. Well, I was hoping it would be only you, Brother Mark. I’m not as close to the other Brothers and they’re kinda.. I mean they’re from an entirely different time period so they… I don’t think they’ll understand me as much and I… I’ve just had some thoughts and stuff and I worry that they’ll judge me for it. But I know you won’t. I know I can trust you, Brother Mark. I think that’s why my gut is telling me that is has to be you.”

Mark can see the guilt swimming over Johnny and that was not his intention so he takes him by the shoulder once more and says “You can count on me, Johnny. I’ll be there for you. Let me give you my number and we can figure something out. How does that sound?”

Johnny shakes his head excitedly and calls Mark right away. “There! Now it’s settled! Thank you so much, Brother Mark. I know you're busy but thank you to the moon for agreeing to help me. I won’t let you down. I promise!”

It’s with a polite nod and smile that they part, Mark getting into his car and Johnny into his own. Mark’s never noticed before but Johnny must come from some type of wealth because his car is brand new - yet still humble. Everything looks pristine and he wonders if Brother Johnny on all fours would still look pristine with a ball gag, uncontrollable spit making puddles as he whimpers and learns all the many lessons that Mark is willing to give. That would be a way to break his urges. If Johnny succumbs to everything Mark throws at him, he’ll be ready to take on anything in the future and overcome it. That is a time for later after he can gauge what kind of mentoring Johnny wants and will accept.

For now, Haechan has his class on Tuesday and he needs to make sure everything is installed and in place by then. He plans on teaching Haechan the Seven Deadly Sins personally. Mark is intelligent and he often uses this gift for good, but there’s something about Haechan that begs for Mark to abuse it. Maybe it’s the sinner in Haechan. In the older days of Christianity, they would flog sinners and beat out the demons. He thinks about flogging Haechan and asking him how many sins he’s committed and if Haechan thinks all his demons have left after Mark is finished with him. He already likes boys and that is one depending on who you ask. He’ll pray about it tonight. After all, as his father told him, he shouldn't feel guilty over natural urges. He'll just be private about these affairs and let God carry the rest.

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bamfdaddio · 3 years

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X-Men Abridged: 1978

The X-Men, those take-me-to-the-ballgame mutants that have sworn to protect a world that hates and fears them, are a cultural juggernaut with a long, tangled history. Want to unravel this tapestry? Then read the Abridged X-Men!

(X-Men 109 - 116) - by Chris Claremont and John Byrne, Tony Dezuniga

Yes, the plan here is to toss Kurt at Magneto and yes, it’s objectively the best panel of 1978. (X-Men 113)

If the X-Men were a tv-show, the Phoenix mending the M’Kraan Crystal would probably have been the finale of season 1 of X-Men: the New Generation. Now that we’ve had this big finish, Claremont takes his time to sow new plot seeds and navigate his team of merry mutants in new directions. Compared to 1977, 1978 is a lot more laid back, with smaller arcs and more character moments.

Take the first two issues of the year, for example. The victorious X-Men come home from their space capers and for a moment, all is well. Ororo is a plant mommy, Kurt is a grade-A cutey and Jean comes out to her parents as the Phoenix. (Intrigued? Read more here.) And, because Moira going back home to Scotland, the X-Men say goodbye to her through… a baseball game! (Which, I guess if you’re comic book character bound by the comic book code, is the next best thing to just getting drunk together.)

It’s all very straight-edge wholesome.

Lilandra is very absent: I’m assuming she is sleeping off the space jetlag somewhere. idk

Sure, there’s still a few action-packed B-plots: a fight scene is mandatory in a comic book, after all. Weapon Alpha tries to claim Wolverine in the name of the Canadian government and some nobody named Warhawk sneaks into the mansion as a phone repairman to rig the Danger Room into a Death Trap.

(Look, you have a danger room. Why are you calling phone repairmen? During breakfast, did Charles go around the table, asking anyone if they wanted to fix the phone and everyone was like “nnnnnno, I am le tired”.)

Anyway, how would you unwind after a baseball game? Scott has an awesome idea! (I'm betting Scott would have embraced the Comics Code.)

This is the one issue not drawn by John Byrne this year. Dezuniga does a fine enough job, but Jean using her powers looks like she’s barfing psy-energy all over the place. (X-Men 110)

Warhawk traps the rest of the X-Men in the Danger Room. Wolverine gets a moment to shine as the team’s rogue, finally getting a win after getting knocked on his ass lately. Also, Kurt calls Warhawk Krieghabicht. (Hee.) Jean, meanwhile, is startled because despite her phenomenal powers, she was taken out so easily. She makes the formal choice to rejoin the X-Men.

And the next time we see them… THE X-MEN HAVE VANISHED? (yes, i know this sentence contradicts itself, shut up)

We find Beast at a circus in Texas, investigating their disappearance while on a sabbatical from the Avengers. See, Lorna called him because Havok was kidnapped in Scotland and the X-Men did not pick up, so she called good ole Hank McCoy. We know Charles is honeymooning with Lilandra, so where are the X-Men?

Cerebro leads Hank to a circus and, dude, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you draw the conclusion that these are the brainwashed X-Men way too slowly.

I by no means wish to belittle Storm’s situation, but Wolverine is in equally skimpy clothing while chained the fuck up, Beast. Can’t spare a little sympathy for him? (X-Men 111)

Beast continues being the worst detective mutantkind has ever known: even Jean, who’s currently a cigarette smoking trapeze artist named Miz Destiny, barely convinces him that these are the X-Men. When Beast finally confronts the Ring Leader, it turns out to be… Mesmero!

This pose: appropriate for a super villain or suitable for a Harlequin novel cover? Especially with all this talk about enthralling? (X-Men 112)

Apparently Mesmero doesn’t give a fuck that half these X-Men aren’t the same X-Men that fought him before. Revenge is a dish best served cold and to the wrong table, apparently. Beast fighting ole Messy causes Wolverine to spring free from his hypnotic influence. Wolvie proceeds to slap Jean out of it (literally) and they free the rest of the X-Men. But when they come and confront Mesmero in his little circus wagon, their villain is knocked out…

By Magneto.

dun dun DUN

Magneto proceeds to kidnap them, like this:

Magneto, who has no patience for narrative baggage, also yeets out Mesmero over the Andes, no big deal (X-Men 112)

Just like Mesmero, Magneto wants misplaced revenge. Instead of exacting vengeance on Charles, Moira and the Defenders involved in (literally) infantilizing him - no, seriously, he was a baby - Magneto comes for these All-New X-Men. (Look, logic has never been one of Magneto’s super powers.)

He takes the X-Men to his secret base below the South Pole, tucked away under a literal volcano. (He really should be on the tourist board for Amazing Antarctica, this is his third base there.) The X-Men, after they have safely landed, attack him, but they are tossed around like rag dolls, falling one by one - even the Phoenix.

Jean does have the right idea, though: it’s my theory that the key to defeating Magneto is being equally dramatic and hammy. (X-Men 112)

Somewhere on a cruise ship, Charles loses contact with the X-Men and proceeds to do absolutely nothing about it. Damn, but Elizabeth Taylor Lilandra must have some pretty choice moves in bed.

YOU COULD TRY FINDING OUT, CHARLES. (X-Men 113)

When the X-Men wake up, they're bound by Nanny, a robotic… uh, nanny! And Magneto unveils his revenge: he has scrambled the X-Men’s brains: they are fully conscious, but are trapped, powerlessly in their bodies, which won’t follow the instructions of their brains. It’s as if they’re the minds of adults, trapped in the bodies of infants - just like Magneto was. (He does not succumb to an evil laughter, but he’s definitely drifting into Evil Overlord territory.)

Look, a lot of this is very silly. Magneto hasn’t really been codified by Claremont yet: he’s still very much the sixties super villain and he doesn’t have his Holocaust-past yet. His motivations don’t make much sense: it’s never made clear why he needs the base, for example, or why he doesn’t just kill the X-Men. And yet, he seems more menacing than he used to be. Might be because these X-Men actually have a hard time beating him.

A lot of this era works like that. There’s the occasionally very silly trappings of a superhero comic, but there’s also glimmers of exceptional writing. Take the following scene, for example, which I’ll just include in its entirety, because fuck it. Storm is trying to break free, on the flimsy premise that she was a highly advanced baby who had the motor skills of a toddler. (I’ve met babies. They basically eat, sleep and poop. They can’t really do this.) And yet? This scene kind of works.

Like, the fact that this scene works despite the fact that Magneto thought to give his Nanny-robot a sixties copper bob-cut and a aluminium French maid headpiece is a testament to effective writing. (Also to Magneto’s attention to detail.) (X-Men 113)

No worries, Storm succeeds the second time she attempts this.

Together, the now free team manages to almost defeat Magneto, but Phoenix grows a little too zealous, destroying precious machinery. It proves to be their undoing: the roof to the base cracks open, letting lava in. Things grow dire and Magneto gets the nope out of there.

The lava turns on the heat and the team gets split up. Phoenix escapes together with Beast, and they both collapse into the freezing snow in the Arctic. A helicopter saves them, but what about the rest of the team? Are they dead?!

They’re dead enough for Professor X, and I really have questions about the effectiveness of Cerebro. After a brief mourning period, Beast rejoins the Avengers. But what really happened to the X-Men? Well, they fled into the Savage Land!

So, are we getting a sexy costume change with every new locale and/or story arc? What is this, Charmed? (X-Men 114)

The Savage Land plot is… kind of messy and confusing? First, Storm is attacked by Sauron (yay!) and he even hypnotizes Wolverine and uses his love for Jean against him (ew!), but as soon as Karl Lykos gains control again (boo!), he explains how he

Did not fall to his death;

Is suppressing his pterodactyl side (ain’t we all);

allied himself with the Savage Landers.

Then Ka-Zar, Marvel´s discount!Tarzan, explains how someone named Zaladane transformed a hapless innocent into Garruk, the Petrified Man, who is some sort of… living god? Who stopped some sort of interdimensional invasion by mending some sort of… portal rift? And then he set up shop in the swamp and built some sort of futuristic city? And he wants to enslave all of the natives of the Savage Land? And he built his city on the geothermal fissure that heats the Savage Land, so now the jungle is being choked out by snowy tundra?

Such a mess. And I know Zaladane gets important later, but, ugh, the socio-political tensions in the Savage Land is generally not what I’m here for.

One of the few Savage Land scenes I do like is also messy, but the emotional kind of messy. See, the X-Men on their part believe Jean and Hank are dead, and Scott takes it rather… lightly? When Storm confronts him about it, he confesses he does not mourn Jean as much as he thought he would, as if she were a different woman ever since they crash-landed the shuttle. Storm rejects this confession, always solidly in Jean’s camp, and basically tells Scott to man up. Scott has a point: Jean has changed and it’s not like people have fallen out of love for less, but there’s something to be said for Storm’s firm “for better or for worse”-argument. The scene ends unresolved, and I like that.

Anyway, there’s some X-Men fighting dinos and flying lizards, so there’s at least that. Oh, and Colossus develops a suddenly intense bond with a Savage Lander with a mohawk, which is a detail that becomes important later. Another significant detail?

There’s a lot of weight to that snikt, bub. (X-Men 116)

The implication is that Wolverine simply kills the guy in cold-blood. It’s a little weird that both Storm and Kurt are so okay with this, especially because Storm tries to save Garruk later. This, however, also marks an important direction in which they’re taking Wolverine, becoming the most ruthless of the X-Men.

In the end, Cyclops blasts the foundations of the citadel to smithereens, solving everyone’s problems and putting a neat bow on this tangled plotline. Also, all of a sudden? The X-Men are monthly again! (yay!) And they’ve upgraded from All-New, All-Different to Uncanny on the cover, though the name of the comic won’t officially change until issue 142.

Best new character: Like Hell I’m giving this to Weapon Alpha! So instead, it’s going to the two stylish, mohawked ladies who “show the island” to Piotr. (Again. They’ll be relevant later. Sort of.)

What to read: X-Men 109, for the denouement of the Phoenix Saga (or the first part thereof). The rest is rather inconsequential.

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yikesharringrove · 3 years

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(( Soooo Pokemon AU? Idk if you’re a fan of Pokemon but given all the cool snippets and stuff you’ve written I figured I’d return the favour in a way and write this and submit it to you! I included some notes at the end! ))

– Unstable Genes –

Billy knew Steve would have a preppy, rich boy Pokemon. He just knew it. Granted he expected it to be something more powerful and less, cute.

The Eevee was always at Harrington’s side, matching brown doe-eyes observing the school. It didn’t shy from the larger Pokemon that approached it, nor did it act sickeningly sweet. It stood it’s ground, head held high, matching Steve’s general disinterest in the bustle of the school or the gossip around it. It was so weird to see such a small ball of fluff regard bigger, tougher Pokemon with such little concern. Billy didn’t know a lot about Eevees but he knew Steves was… off. For one thing, the aloofness. For another, it was (apparently) strong as fuck according to Tommy and half the school. Tommy in particular wouldn’t shut up about the battles the little Eevee had won, helping to secure old King Steve’s crown before he lost it. The other thing was that it hadn’t evolved, despite Steve apparently having it since he was ten.

Billy knew an Eevee’s DNA was extremely fucked. They evolved if you so much as looked at them funny. Buy some expensive stone and shove it in your Eevee’s face? it’ll evolve. Take them aboard to some fancy place and rub it on a stone in a specific place? It’ll evolve. Give it a ton of cake and pet it a bunch? It’ll evolve. It’s not hard to get those things if you can afford the Eevee in the first place. There were no wild Eevee’s anywhere; they were all from breeders and cost far more than anyone should pay for a Pokemon, so if you could afford the Eevee, you’d evolve it. If you weren’t keeping it for a pet.

It just made Billy all the more curious. Curious about the once King Steve and his un-evolved Eevee. And Klaus - his Luxio, the only Pokemon he had managed to keep from Cali - was equally curious. It wanted a decent fight. It saw the little Eevee, heard the stories, and licked it’s teeth, eyes gleaming. Klaus always looked for that Eevee, always trying to catch it’s gaze, caught between growling for it’s attention and purring, letting eelctricity crackle in it’s fur with every step. Billy couldn’t blame Klaus. He saw Steve and ached for the fight. To see his eyes focus on them and them alone, take charge of the battle, hear him issue commands to that Eevee. To get Steve’s skin under his fists, under his hands, to scratch, to grip, to grapple. To feel him sweat and bleed. To press him down with his body.

Then came the Night. Billy got to face King Steve, staring him down after being sent on a bullshit mission to find Max. He’d wanted this for so long but not like this. Not when it was backed up with the shit from his old man. Not when he saw Max peered from the window. Not when Steve fucking lied to his face about his sister being there with a bunch of weird boys. Klaus snarled, and Steve’s little Eevee puffed up, digging kitten claws into the earth.

It was criminal Billy couldn’t remember the fight that followed, thanks to the drugs Max had shot into him (that shit was crystal clear - the rest of the tape, the good shit, was covered in static and fuzz). He remembered throwing a punch. He remembered getting punched back. He remembered smashing a plate. He remembered feeling a pair of canines sink into his ankle as the little furball bit him, evading his attempts to kick it off. He remembered Klaus lunging, electricity crackling in his teeth as he lunged at the Eevee. And then, jackshit. But he saw the results of it the next day.

Steve was bruised, deep purple splotches darkening as his body worked to recover. On his pale skin they were beautiful, vivid proof that Billy had gotten his hands on King Steve and left a mark. Steve glanced over and for a moment, their eyes met. Billy didn’t look away. Steve didn’t either. Billy resisted the urge to lick his teeth. To make it another challenge. It was when his Luxio gave a deep, rumbling noise beside him, caught between a growl and a purr, that Billy turned, following his Luxio’s gaze to the Pokemon at Steve’s side. Billy wanted to punch something. Steve’s Eevee was no longer an Eevee. Steve’s Eevee had evolved, during or just after their fight, and he couldn’t remember it.

Billy didn’t know a lot about Eevee’s aside from them evolving at the drop of a hat. He didn’t know what it was, but it was not a preppy little furball anymore. It’s fur was sleek and black, with yellow rings on it’s legs and forehead, matched by bands around it’s ears and tail. The doe-like, black eyes were gone, replaced by knowing, red eyes. It looked directly at Billy. For an eternity, Billy stared at it as it watched him. The yellow rings glowed and dimmed in a hypnotic pulse rhythm. Yellow on black, like every caution and warning sign Billy had seen. Finally, it turned, following Steve down the hallway.

It didn’t take long to find a book on Eevees in the library, to find out what the hell Harrington’s Eevee had become. He found the page with a picture of the Pokemon, reading through it and freezing, ignoring the dirty look from the libraian as Klaus stood on his hind legs to look at the book, as if he could fucking read (Really, he was just staring at the picture).

“Umbreon, the Moonlight Pokemon. A well trained Eevee with a strong bond to it’s trainer can evolve into an Umbreon under the influence of the Moon.

A nocturnal hunter, it blends in with darkness by dimming the markings on it’s body. When excited and ready to strike, the markings shine brightly, startling it’s prey. It’s possible that it uses the glow of it’s markings to communicate with others… Not much is known about this Pokemon; Umbreons (and Espeons; see page 196) are unknown in the wild, and few trainers evolve their Eevees this way. Most cite that it is easier to evolve their Eevees through other means and train them appropriately according to how they evolve, rather than spend the time to attain these forms and then hone their training. Fewer still are willing donate their Pokemon for research on this elusive species…”

Billy looked down at Klaus, snapping the book shut. He knew Max had told him to stay away from her little weirdo friends. Which apparently included Steve. Which was still extremely fucking weird. But he wanted to know. He wanted to know what the fuck happened that night. Why Steve was there. What the fuck Max and those kids were doing. How Steve’s Eevee had evolved from some little bundle of fluff into a literal Pokemon of the night. “Klaus. We got some training to do.”

—

(( Steve’s Pokemon is an Eevee! It’s a rare Pokemon; in earlier games it couldn’t be found in the wild at all, and you’d only get one given to you. They can evolve into a total of eight different Pokemon, depending on what method you use, and each evolved Pokemon is a different type with different stats and abilities. So it’s very popular! It feels like the kind of thing Steve’s parents would give him and think “yep, we’re good parents, back to work/never being at home”. And given how listless Steve generally is, he wouldn’t have decided how to evolve it. Until it evolves in response to…well, the everything happening! Steve’s evolved into an Umbreon, a dark type, which has high defensive stats. Eevee evolves into Umbreon when it had a strong bond with it’s trainer and levels up at night-time - I feel like the events of Stranger Things would cause Steve to develop a very real bond with it and cause the evolution. And I can’t decide what he would name it or if it would be a boy or a girl (girls are much rarer than males - it’s like a 1/8 chance of obtaining a female Eevee).

>>>

Billy’s Pokemon is a Luxio! It’s essentially a teenage lion, and an electric type. They’re not super rare but they look extremely rad and channel electricity into their claws/fangs when they attack! They also develop the ability to see through walls when their eyes gleam a golden colour, which they use to trakc prey or lost cubs of theirs… It evolves from a Shinx (a cub basically) and then evolves into a Luxray (the adult lion). It feels very Billy to me! I imagine he had another pokemon that was a water type/fish, so he had to leave them in the sea when he ended up going to Hawkins. I also took the name Klaus from the lead singer of the Scorpions cos I am not that good at coming up with names.

God this ended up being massive, I completely understand if you don’t post this. I don’t really know how to sign this off cos this is literally my first contribution to the Harringrove fandom despite lurking for a while. But again, thank you for all the stuff you write! I hope that even if you don’t like Pokemon, this makes ya smile. I guess I should leave a name or something, URM

- that guy who made the stupidly long Pokemon AU submission

I LOVE pokemon this is so fucking good. I’ve definitely thought about Steve having an Eevee before, and I love it evolving That Night, especially into Umbreon, that’s so GOOD and POWERFUL. I also love the idea of Steve with Mimikyu for,,,, angst reasons. And I love Billy with Luxio. I totally see him with electric or fire types because he would really like the strength and energy those types bring. I’ve thought about him with Cubone (also for angst reasons), or even Growlithe/Arcanine mostly bc I’m more familiar with gen 1 and 2. Seriously, I love this SO MUCH and if you ever wanna write more 👀👀 I would LOVE to read it.

#submit to yikes #submission #this is the fucking best think ever #thank you for the submission #harringrove #not my writing #steve harrington #billy hargrove #pokemon au

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rataltouille · 4 years

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BONFIRE, BONFIRE!: A COLLECTION OF FLASH FICTION + POETRY

so i’ve decided to compile all twenty [these will be split into two so that the post isn’t super long] of the writing pieces i’ve done for my random celebration into one post so that it’s easier to read / access share!! you can also find it here, all put into one work, on wattpad, because i feel nostalgic about that website and decided to just post it!!

NOTE: i know that this shouldn't need to be said, but these 20 pieces belong to me so please don’t copy/repurpose it for your writing!! i plan on using these somewhere in my own writing and either way they’re stuff i’ve written so don’t use them!!

1. cooking + destructive + purple from @andiwriteunderthemoon [also i kind of cheated with this prompt and asked my sis @dreamscanbenightmarestoo for ideas and so the base idea’s from her!!]

I didn’t mean to set my house on fire, alright?

Let me set the scene: I’m sitting in my room, watching the infomercials that blur together, and suddenly there’s a bright purple flash on the glitching screen: /grapes/. They’re shiny, plump, and oh? A recipe for fine wine? Don’t mind if I do. So I pop into my kitchen and cut the grapes, dice them up, finally using the knife after years of not cooking— /mother, are you proud of me now?/— and stick the soft, luminescent fluid into a glass bottle. Following each step of the recipe.

The recipe didn’t mention an explosion.

Destruction rained around my house like a meteor shower. The bubbles from the fluid, frisking up at contact with metal, swam across my shoes and into the living room. It touched the TV, which still flashed the recipe, which I was still cursing at. And then, you know, it burnt up. The couch scorched first, I think. So that was fun. I later realised that I’d used my reserve of petroleum, which I’d put in my kitchen cabinet, instead of vinegar. I think I’ve got to move back in with my mother again.

2. running + quiet + sky blue from @kryskakikomi [i have no idea what this is i drafted this in a fever dream state]

Summer crawled up his skin like a worm. He was seated at his dining table, crosswording his way through the sticky morning, when it struck him that the humidity was new. He’d been caught in summer before, of course, but this year was different. His parents had whisked away to their hometown, and he still didn’t understand why he wasn’t allowed to go. He loved their home— he could have been running on beach sand and waves could have cruised over his feet, and his face would reflect sky blue under palm trees. Instead he sat doodling and scratching at cement walls in a quiet that nagged at his ears, grappling his flesh like a fishing hook, reeling him in. Boredom, him sister told him, before she also left for someone’s home. What would you know? he whispered once the door latched from the outside. Maybe /she’d/ like to sit on the same wooden chair, all the pink paint worn out, and scratch out squares of empty text until the pen poked through the other hand. He scoffed. At least he knew the number of scars on the wood; he could hold that over her when his parents returned.

3. hallucinate + hazy + violet from @chloeswords [i wanted to write something dreamy and ethereal but everytime i look at your url i’m reminded of church mud and indirectly my religious trauma so here we are 🤡]

We hold the book in our arms and chant for God. We don’t know what he looks like. They say that he’s sharp, never pixelating or blurring or showing through, like a hazy image would. No, children, our family says, he will come clothed in gold and velvet— the colour a deep and rich crimson, or chartreuse. And of course, he weaves a violet into his hair. Because he is just that humble. Just that gentle. Loving.

We’ve almost understood now. Pray, clasp our palms together into a transient equinox, and pray. Maybe he will shine down on us. Maybe we will speak so loud and chant so long that our lips will chap. Maybe we’ll simply hallucinate him to salve our bones. Our family says, he will bless you. And so he will.

4. halcyon + pluviophile + beige from anon [i was yearning for cats i am a cat person i love cats]

I remember my life before I moved to London,

Those halcyon days that I spent scooping up cat litter and brushing warm fur,

Being a mother to beige and white and black little felines.

They keep better company than humans.

Now I’m a self-proclaimed businesswoman, artist, influencer, pluviophile,

Even when I’ve barely stepped foot outside during the rain,

[But it needs to be said that when it rains in London, it pours].

I think I’d like to open a cat cafe;

I’m rich enough to pull it off.

5. sing + vulnerable + olive green from @occiidens [this was actually super fun to write because it’s a break from the typically unhinged stories i gravitate towards]

You watch from the highest hill of your town, hand wrapped around the serrated wood of a red oak tree. The bark pokes into your flesh, drawing blood that shouldn’t have been taken from you. You scowl. Just another thing that lives to cause you pain.

Three storeys down is a young man, short and smiling and lovely. He has dark skin and darker hair, walking with the stride of a deer, and he’s smiling; the joy reflects onto your face, even though you can’t hear him. He wears a cotton shirt, the olive green stark against the fire-blue sky. You call out, sing his name, three times in a row.

When he finally looks up, squinting as you silhouette under the sun, the smile widens. A wave. You’re suddenly overcome with embarrassment. Your palm digs into the bark until the wound is freshly dug again, the skin supple and vulnerable. You want to wave, but your hands would look so awkward, and the blood wouldn't help. So you turn on your heel and run— why are you so awkward?— and the grass around you is brighter. This is now a tomorrow issue, you conclude. You’re still smiling.

6. dislocate + ostentatious + blood red from @oasis-of-you [this got really unhinged really fast. TW: body horror]

If you take a turn at Finn Avenue,

Rogue your way down a blood red river,

[It’s not actual blood, do not worry. The colour’s a pigment and it’s saturated enough to give you the texture, the touch, the taste of blood, but I repeat, it isn’t true blood. You might think that it’s ostentatious of us to make you cross a river like that, but you’ll understand why.]

And if can stick your fingers inside the fluid,

You’ll find a bone.

Don’t pull it out fully! Only observe.

[This is a real bone, most likely animal. We may be ominous, but we don’t hurt humans. Not yet.]

So what do you do now? You want passage into a better world.

You came here because you saw the brochure, the flyer,

Radiant Idyll, home for love, but you also saw the jutting anatomy that leads to the city. The pictures were rather clear.

Why do you look so surprised? We’ve put this on the brochure— don’t you ever read the fine print?— to avoid this exact situation. That you would cross a body, a skeleton, pooled over in a fluid that we don’t name, but it’s probably alive.

It’s watching you right now.

So what do you do now?

Hurry up, unhinge your arm, dislocate the elbow, drop it into the blood, forgive me, false blood, and pay for your passage.

Oh! Excellent; that’s record time. We do hope you enjoy your stay!

1. @noteaboy [i’ve interpreted your url as ”note, a boy”]

There’s an orange tree. It’s spring, and there’s an orange tree, and it brims with fruit and citrus perfume. Point your lens flare downwards, and note, a boy. A young man, perhaps, because he combs his hair, uptight and firm, and he wears a tie. A long suit. He doesn’t look up, because his hand holds a book. /He/ holds the book, not the hands— tenderness doesn’t translate through anatomy, I’ve taught you this before. He’s waiting for someone. There’s only the rustle of leaves. He drops the book onto the lap of the tree, crushing the apple that had fallen down. Orange, not apple. Take note better. You only have one chance to get this right.

2. @eatingjupiter [your url is so beautiful omg]

The goddess had said this before she died: you need to watch over him. He needs your sentry to survive. The goddess’ words weren’t heeded. Little baby Jupiter tottered on lava as him parents small-talked with their kingdom. Well, it must have been small talk, because nothing seemed to happen afterwards other than his mother’s face collapsing in agony, anger, annoyance. He knew not to touch them then. He’d fly off into the sun one day, but if his hands were but and charred, he wouldn’t survive even a third of the journey.

The prophecy was simple: the firstborn to the kingdom will metamorph into a celestial, purify themselves so that only stardust remains. Live in the sky forever. The astrologers were baffled; you don’t just become a star. They should have heeded the goddess.

Jupiter was sixteen when he expanded and collapsed all at once. He still lives, they say, and the astrologers /were/ right, in a way: people just don’t become stars. They become almost empty space. Nobody knows if his hands were burnt when they left earth’s orbit forever.

3. @laughtracksonata [your name gave me slight horror vibes idk why!!]

Hahaha. The Horror Movie (don’t ask me for a name, I’m not good with those), with its cymbal crashing and plastic sounds, it’s so loud and scary that it hurts, father. Please turn it off.

Father doesn't listen. I shiver on the couch. The screen flickers like radio static and reflects off our wide eyes. What kind of a home is this anyway? I don’t want to fucking listen to a laugh track or a horror VHS tape or watch the bass crescendo as the serial killer jumpscares the watcher. I don’t think that having hour pupils glued to the same blood-splattered movie, with the same recording looping in his eardrums will help him. He laughs along, sometimes. It’s scary. Father needs a new hobby.

PART TWO COMING SOON!!

anyway this got REALLY long so i’m posting the third prompt group, the one based on songs, as a second part in some time. i hope you enjoy this, and PLEASE do boost!! i spent a lot of time writing these pieces and am pretty proud of them :’)

general taglist: @lovingyou-is @guulabjamuns @andiwriteunderthemoon @coffeeandcalligraphy @melonmilk @silentlylostwriter @charles-joseph-writes @eklavvya @eowynandfaramir @bitterwitchwrites @laughtracksonata @whatwordsdidnttouch @indeliblewrites @thenataliawrites @summersguilt @illimani-gibberish @sarahkelsiwrites @writing-in-delirium @shaelinwrites @sienna-writes @chewingthescenery @jennawritesstories @chloeswords @aelenko @keira-is-writing @cherylinanika @infinitely-empty-pages @jmtwrites @august-iswriting @freedelusionbanana @beetleblue88 @mistercaleb @iwannawritepls @hanwatchingmovies @mortallynuttyqueen @idratherliveinnarnia @maisulli @thegreyboywrites @ahowlinwolf @ravens-and-rivers @oasis-of-you @yanittawrites @chazza-writes-sometimes @skyfirewrites @lovebenders @treybriggsthewriter @themidnxghtwriter @ash-karter @queen-devasena @a-procrastination-addict @gaymityblight @beyondthebracken @madmaxst26 @adielwrites @moonpixxel @hollow-knight-dnd @keep-looking-here @overlap @ashleygarciawrites @ryns-ramblings @wordsbynathan @novaemlynlewis @sophiewritingstuff @howdy-writes @occiidens @nsanelyawkward @viawrites-andacts

#writeblr #am writing #flash fiction #poetry #wtwcommunity #ofcolourtracking #crabappletracking #anyway part two probably in a couple days #i still have to start writing them 🤡✌️#bonfire bonfire

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everythingthemoontouches · 3 years

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Hi lovely soul! How are you doing? I was wondering if I could get spiritual insight on regards to my actual major. I am contemplating on quitting it but I don't know if I should do it because of my dad. I am studying architecture but my parents are infatuated with this idea more than I am, and I've think is that because of their pressure that I want to quit or I don't know if I should stick with the major, really is a complicated case I have here and is to short to write here but hope for urhelp

To start off, your ideal major / career

The King of Pentacles is a card of tradition, his power derived from his lineage 👑 I don't think it would be a bad idea for you to continue in this line of work. Moreover, he has the ability to generate massive income through earthy fields. Taurus being a fixed earth sign is all about things that endure.something that you can touch and is beautiful to look at. 🥝🍇🫐🥭Just like pretty seasonal, exotic fruit is. The Wine making 🍷imagery is hard to miss. Having said that, since the 7 of pentacles also turned up, I believe your interests may lie more in horticulture or cultivation. Cash crops, sustainable farming practices, etc. Perhaps even garden / landscape / exterior design? Plants are definitely involved since a lot of Virgo(mutable earth) related cards turned up later in the reading.

Do you have a Taurus midheaven?

Challenges you'd face if you kept to this major :

Death + 8 of cups

You can't keep doing the same thing over and over. Have to adopt some new patterns. There's a constant challenge of reinventing things, keeping them fresh. The same plans won't always work. Maybe take up a computer oriented design course. There are some tried and tested truths if the industry taht you would have to accept. Lots of new beginnings. And what do we say about new beginnings? Something must end first. So if you're someone who does not like being challenged to grow, take on the new, adapt, then thus is not the field for you. In this line if work, you may face a lot of rejection. Why? Because it's a service based industry and your clients have a lot of options. A lot of times when people go shopping they are not quite sure of what they want. They want to survey a bunch of options, potential make, design, material before they finalize their purchase. This could be a little disheartening. You must be prepared for some to walk away and not let it wound your pride. Stay true to yourself, keep a good work ethcu and know what your values, rates, style, modus operandi is. Go with the flow. Major Scorpio energy here. And a bit of Pisces with the man walking into the forest. You may also feel like there is something better out there for you. Also as the King of Pentacles, you don't wanna be told what to dooooo 🙄😅

#amiriteoramirite like the 9 of swords is just there like, nuuuh, I gotta fix everything, and definitely take their work to bed, brainstorming how they're gonna do so well in the morning.

What are your skills that shine through in your ideal line of work?

Need for things to be perfect. Overthinking. Attention to detail.

Creativity. Femininity.

Ability to experiment and look the fool

9 of swords | Queen of Pentacles | The Fool

Planets : Mercury (Virgo primarily), Uranus, Venus

You have this incredible ability to think outside the box, use your imagination to create something of value and beauty, as well as the work ethic to stress over it and burn the midnight oil. You are careful, don't miss the slightest detail, adding small finishing touches taht others would miss.

The King of Pentacles and Queen of Pentacles both came up in your reading so I'm bound to think you'd generate wealth anytime you work on building something tangible. This could have to do with designing a garden, to landscaping or architecture. Perhaps even something along the lines of wine making or Vinyard management. The Queen of Pentacles is super fertile and, along with her male counterpart has the ability to help others make money. You do this in a work environment where you're allowed / have the freedom to think for yourself and bring your unique personality in to work. Kind of like a ' I have a baron, so let me use it' I'm not saying you have issues with authority, just that you work better when you're trusted to do it right on your own. Your bosses have to give you some creative autonomy and trust in the decisions you make. I understand that you are second guessing your major because of how high your families' hopes and dreams are. But love, if we take all that out of the equation, give you your own firm, would you be happy to take charge?

Correct me if I'm wrong, I feel like in a sea of calm, it would be something you'd treat quite reverentially. As I was meditating before your reading, connecting with your guides I felt myself tearing up a little as I thought of that calm centre, 🌪️👁️‍🗨️🌪️ eye of the storm, within you that knows your strengths, skills and desires. I think she'd want for you to take a moment to lean into your inner voice, removed from what everyone else wants and expects of you. You don't have to do anything you don't like. Just don't miss out on something that you would love.

Have you wtached atypical? Casey transfers to Clayton on an athletes scholarship, and then freezes during a track meet due to a panic attack. She stops running because of what a chore the prep school turned it into. She finally goes back to her old school because running is soemthing she has always loved and she didn't want to stop. She wanted it to bring her joy the way it had at her old school.

I'm thinking of someone who works with communities in beautiful hilly towns on holiday and vacation homes /inn/ resort. As Taurus and virgo are both earth signs, I really think the soil/ plants itself could be a good field for you to work in. Or fresh produce.

So should you stay in architecture? What path should you take?

I mean. It looks like it's made for you. There was also temperance so, perhaps take up a dual degree or an allied subject in an adjacent field? Something that compliments it?.

Honestly, I feel if you were to drop the course and take up something that's close to it but that you're more allied with, it could be a time of healing. The rainbow lies behind her though, signifying that you could be ignoring a possibly beautiful thing.

It's your decision at the end of the day and the cards can only say what good can come of certain paths you take. The fairy of the Divine hand urges you to think, connect with your deeper wisdom. Decide whether you will join in with what was tempting you,the easy way out, or will you watch a little Longer and make the wise decision instead?

Hope this helps. All the best 💖

Please let me know what you decide?

#Acceptance #Transformation #Old must give way to the new #Death card #Go with the flow #Venusian earth #Mutable earth #Mercurial #Mercury career #Architecture #Landscaping #Winemaking #Vinyard management #Tarot readings #Education tarot #Career reading

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romanceboys · 4 years

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(interview) vogue korea april issue 2020 - perfect taemin

1. superm was another chance for taemin’s ever-evolving performance to be showcased. i thought a lot about how to create synergy with these exceptional performers. to put it simply, i wanted us to come off as energetic. but these days i’ve had a change of heart. our identity is definitely important. rather than just working hard, for superm to show off their colours well we need to show our personalities; we should be seen as one team. to be able to formulate a solid and clear colour is our homework. that’s why it’s regrettable. we couldn’t come up with a novel choreography to carry our new identity. we tried a lot in the practice room. superm seems to have found its musical identity but hasn’t gotten a hold of its performance character yet. the stages are too vague. 2. now that you are finally promoting with your best friend kai in one group, you two must’ve shared your concerns. since this friend is someone who has a lot of passion and ambition, he talks about various things. for instance, this style is pretty good, this choreography is quite trendy. thanks to him i’ve learned a lot. he is also very knowledgeable about the latest ‘hottest’ genres. we talk about these things often and even watch videos together. kai gives off ‘popular’ vibes. compared to him, my interests are quite unusual. nowadays kai is interested in music while i am into science. 3. is it science fiction? these days we’ve been watching videos on the theory of relativity and quantum mechanics together. 4. what aspect of it interested you? originally i was very curious, after seeing a recommended video on youtube i learned about quantum mechanics for the first time. i couldn’t understand the explanation, even those who were explaining it said it was a difficult concept. that was very fascinating to me. kind of like magic. 5. are you reading books on the subject too? the subjects of the books i read are different (laughs). there’s a book that was published long ago called ‘regarding the pain of others.’ it is a pessimistic book that gathers contradictory opinions of people for instance ‘people find joy in the pain of others, it is instinctual.’ as a celebrity, there are times when you are criticized but there are also times when you receive comfort from people. rather than blaming others, while reading this book, i began to think ‘people are like that, at most i shouldn’t behave like them.’ my interests are all over the place. 6. what makes you and kai click? we converse well. our opinions almost never clash and we respect each other. moreover, we fully understand our own roles in superm. 7. what position do you hold in superm? since i can’t ask if it’s the main dancer. in pictures and interviews, i’m the center. baekhyun hyung is the leader (laughs). 8. when the conversation wasn’t flowing well during the talkshow interview, i saw you neatly concluding it. that does happen. nct and wayv are still in the learning phase. that’s why i first listen to all of their thoughts during interviews then flesh it out with details later. 9. compared to when you set out abroad as shinee then promoting overseas as superm now, the status of k-pop has changed. looking at how superm was able to start off with an arena tour in the us and europe made me feel that k-pop is a ‘hot’ topic. in the past, we’d use venues of this scale for smtown concerts. even if you promote mainly in asia, seeing the audience section will make you realise the perception of k-pop has changed. 10. though k-pop’s scope has expanded and diversified, its definition has become simple. what are your concerns? my first concern is language. after i was able to communicate via language during my japanese activities, there were so many advantages. though each country overseas has its own language, i felt that i needed to learn english first. there are many international fans who want to experience the chemistry between our members, they’d feel much closer to us if we communicated using (a common) language. k-pop isn’t one dimensional. it’s not only about the music, there is music video, style, etc. included. people would make dance covers in the past, now they even emulate the styling. all of this is korean pop culture. 11. superm were on the ellen degeneres show and jimmy kimmel live. before we went on the ellen show we really rehearsed the interview a lot. america’s atmosphere is different so you receive questions that are never asked in korea. they don’t disclose the questions in advance either. we were also worried because the emcee could ad-lib. we came up with the most probable questions and practiced, we also received lessons from american comedians. compared to that, we went on jimmy kimmel live without any prep. 12. what went according to plan and what didn’t? the questions were not as intense as expected, ellen was well aware about k-pop culture so it went smoothly. 13. is there a dance genre you’re into these days? contemporary, lyrical hiphop, in the future as superm i think i’ll be able to show more, not the kind of dancing that you do after learning a given choreography but the kind that is full of emotions. it’s about giving meaning to your gestures. it isn’t out yet but my concert vcr features lyrical hiphop. in it i think i’m dancing alone with a giant full moon as my backdrop but get confused when there are two of us, either it’s another person or a shadow. a choreographer with a body type similar to mine had to dress in all black to come across as my shadow. i wore an oriental outfit with smokey makeup. 14. how do you usually come up with your ideas? i get inspired by the choreographers and creative directors. i imagine it as we converse then the idea develops. 15. was there a time you were inspired by fashion? of course. art begins with the five senses. what you see with your eyes, the things you can feel, clothes, food, perfume, music that you listen to are all sources of inspiration. i create private accounts to follow fashion brands. 16. having debuted at the age of 16, you are still young but your work experience has been long. i was in certain situations because of this. it doesn’t happen as often now but even in my early 20s, i completely belonged to the senior category at broadcasting stations. they are my juniors but many of them are also hyungs, i’m their senior but i’m also the youngest. now there are even staff members who are younger than me. they’re too formal with me (laughs). 17. are there juniors that ask you for advice or help? the superm members! especially ten, he is very curious. when we come out of a company meeting, he’ll get surprised and say “wow, hyung everything you said was right.” i even hear things like ‘veteran’ and ‘seer.’ apparently my predictions come true. but i try not to advise them as much. taking the initiative to say something feels overwhelming. 18. born in 1993 between millennials and gen z, do you share any characteristics with those in your age bracket? we’ve picked out a few of their traits. the first one is ‘they don’t eat fast food.’ me too! i took care of my health well ever since i started out with shinee. i was brainwashed from home to avoid foods that harmed the body. not even ramyeon, snacks were also banned. and just like that in my 20s i started carrying out the regime on my own. it’s become a habit to look after my health ever since i moved out. i always eat things that are good for my body, if the hyungs are taking vitamins, i’d ask for one too. 19. i suddenly recall a variety show where you were the only one who skipped the sauce and ate the meat on its own! one should not eat irritable foods. my mother’s words. 20. how about ‘they watch videos on youtube rather than tv. even the ads don’t particularly bother them.’ that’s right. i watch youtube more often than tv, while watching the ads i'd even marvel at their production quality. i’ve signed up for the premium package now so i don’t see the ads anymore. 21. ‘marrying or wanting to buy their own house.’ i currently live alone and i have no interest in decking out my house. at first, i didn’t think like that but a month later my interest dissipated. i’m lazy. it’s not like my house is for others to see, i’m fine with the incomplete feeling for now. 22. and finally ‘they avoid investing in financial companies.’ i don’t do that. my parents manage that, if there’s a good tip i’ll just let them know. 23. hiphop musicians tend to express their success through music. as an idol musician how have you been using the wealth you accumulated all these years? i invest in food instead of saving up (laughs). honestly, i don’t spend much. i don’t have anything i want. though i do spend on others a lot. 24. what kind of household did you grow up in? what gifts did you inherit from your family as a musician? i inherited my body type. all of my cousins have model-like physiques, they’re taller and slimmer than me. my mother sings well. my father plays instruments as a hobby. oh, and my paternal aunt used to be a ballerina. so perhaps i inherited such genes? 25. you’ve been doing the same thing for more than 10 years. what is the purpose behind creating music and showcasing it? in the past, i would think i should do well, i need to be number one, these days i’ve become ambitious for other aspects. i take pride in the fact that my work supplies others with positive energy. i feel a sense of accomplishment when fans like my music, i want to make them as happy as i am. everyone’s profession is different but i hope this synergy gained from mutual dependence leaves a good impression. 26. are you still composing songs? i used to but now i only participate in lyric writing. it differs with each song, at times the lyrics are emotional or talk about abstract love. it seems like my next solo album will include a song i wrote the lyrics to. sometimes songs composed by overseas composers might prove too difficult for the general public to understand. so i participate a lot in the arrangement or mixing phase. i point out the parts that should be added to the composition and those that are unneeded. teacher lee soo man does give advice but it often feels like i do the producing of my own solo album. 27. taemin’s originality is the clearest when he promotes as a solo artist. which song has best represented your identity? i worked hard on all of them but there was a turning point. at first there was ‘danger’ then ‘press your number’ was a conceptual performance, the transition to ‘move’ turned out well. i wanted to break out from the typical choreography routine and create my own identity, the resulting performances were ‘move’ and ‘want.’ my next solo album is again different. i’ve been making a lot of changes these days. 28. you seem to have high standards when it comes to composing music. was there ever an occasion where you absolutely refused to compromise and gave others a hard time? everyone is used to it (laughs). it’s something i learned from the head manager hyung who’s been with me since debut. the belief that ‘there is nothing that can’t be done. there is no such thing as impossible.’ another team manager hyung would tell me ‘you remind me of our head’ (laughs). honestly, the staff around me work beyond their given roles and with affection. normally work timings are from 9 to 7, they stay back till 10-11 pm for me. they don’t hold it against me, and when things do well, they too feel a sense of fulfillment together with me. 29. the new unreleased song must be quite different from the original then. there are already 12 versions of the song. when i thought we were somewhat done, we recently started arranging it again (laughs). 30. you hold your body to specific standards for the best performance outcome. i don’t ‘bulk up.’ previously, i used to work out when i ate a lot but my body would feel weighed down, it wasn’t what i wanted. if i gain a lot of muscles or become thick, it hampers my dancing form. that’s why i don’t put on weight. i train my stamina and strength and avoid bulking up my shoulders and arms. 31. by the way, do you do neck exercises as well? i was touched looking at your long neck in the vogue photoshoot. i had been noticing this too, now i know the reason! i think it’s because i dance. a lot of resistance goes into the neck when you dance. our head is the heaviest and it’s the neck that supports it. it goes away when i rest for a few days. we’re shooting amidst the superm tour maybe that’s why it looks thicker now. 32. an editor who has been watching you closely for a long time said that you’ve become extroverted. could it be that experience and relationships have made you comfortable and secure? i’ve lowered my guard. i couldn’t reveal my current self to others before. as a child i used to be so introverted that i’d hide behind my mother when strangers would get into the elevator. i changed with time. 33. is your ever-present smile a product of your personality or just business decorum? i’m always smiling. i even laugh at things other people don’t find funny (laughs). 34. shinee members are currently serving in the army. when they’re on break what kind of advice or nagging do they subject you to? i wish they would do that. we have a group chat on kakaotalk and i always revive it by asking “what’s up” “happy new year.” but as soon as the conversation picks up they only talk about the army. when i inform them about an issue at the company they say “really?” then it’s military talk again. when i feel left out and tell them to stop, they reply with “you’ll understand when you get here.” 35. in your career as a musician, when do you feel the best? when it’s time to reveal all that i’ve been preparing for so long! it feels different from finishing it. the first stage after debuting, shinee’s first concert, performing at tokyo dome, receiving the award... these are the moments that come to mind. 36. watching taemin grow for the past decade has been a huge source of strength. what are your dreams now? there are many. first of all, once shinee comes back again, i want the entire group to give off a feeling of revival. usually after getting discharged, it’s hard to keep up with the next generation, i want to avoid that. i’ve imagined it all when the shinee members return. second, i want to perform a lot on various stages as a solo artist. superm topped the billboard 200 album chart, it’d be nice to enter the top 10 on the hot 100 digital chart as well. 37. you are really talented at setting goals. i’ve gotten greedier. it’s just not for myself but i want to do it for the fans and members, even the staff. they become my driving force. i really am lucky. everybody works hard but i even get the recognition for it. come to think of it, i was given many opportunities and i worked hard to make the most of them, i’m really happy my efforts paid off in the end. i’m surrounded by good people. shinee, superm, many people fill in the gaps for me that i can’t solve on my own. 38. superm’s concert title is ‘we are the future.’ when you hear the word ‘future’ what are you reminded of? first, it’s h.o.t. (laughs). future-oriented things come to mind like artificial intelligence, drones, 3d hologram concerts. then again, in the future, though people might be able to watch concerts through holograms, i think humans will not give up on the tasks they themselves can do. my work will still be the same in the future. 39. the reason you don’t write anything on instagram. i don’t have anything to say yet (laughs). i don’t know if i should make my instagram cool or approachable. when fretting between writing a caption or using an emoticon, i just end up leaving it blank. actually i signed up after my manager hyung suggested that instagram would be good. so i’ve made one but i still don’t know what to upload. i get teased by the people around me for putting up selfies. i even took lots of pictures especially for instagram but... 40. did you not post the pictures? the point of instagram is real-time communication. is that so! i didn’t know (laughs).

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#shinee #taemin #p:taemin #vogue korea april issue 2020 #interview #translations #e:superm #enjoy!

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