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salsadips · 3 years

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If You Love Him - Harry Styles

This is based on the song If You Love Her by Forest Blakk

This song breaks my heart every time I listen to it, and I just thought of this idea. It honestly made me so sad to write and I really got in my feels, so I’m sorry beforehand if it’s too sad, but I’m actually really proud of it so I hope you enjoy<3 (Olivia Wilde appears in this, and it’s in no way meant negatively towards her)

Summary: you have a hard time living without Harry, and when you find out he’s seeing someone else it breaks your heart and you write a song to his new lover

Warnings: none, it’s just sad:’(

Not my gif, so creds to the owner

You sat in front of the piano, fingers brushing the keys, just barely touching them. You've been crying all day it felt like, and now you just felt numb. You were absolutely drained of all your energy and you felt like you could fall asleep on the spot, but every time you tried closing your eyes, old memories flooded your brain a thousand miles per hour and prevented sleep from taking you with it.

You missed him, fuck you missed him so much. It was so hard just breathing without him and it felt like climbing a mountain just getting through one day without Harry beside you. You barely slept, just the thought of waking up and not seeing him in bed next to you, was enough to start a waterfall of tears streaming down your face. Every day you were in physical pain too, your stomach was in knots, your head was pounding from all the crying and your body had gotten so used to just laying in bed that your muscles had started hurting too from lack of use.

Every day was a hell to go through, but today had been the worst without a doubt. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling you'd felt when you’d checked Twitter that morning and saw rumors that Harry had found someone new. It had been all over the internet after a picture had been caught of him and someone else from the night before. Even though your brain had begged you to stop looking at the pictures and just turn off your phone, you'd spent the entire morning reading articles and fan theories. Eventually, it had hurt more than you could bear and you'd put down your phone and spent the rest of the day soaking your pillow from your unstoppable fountain of tears.

Now it was some time in the middle of the night, maybe around 3 a.m? You honestly didn't know. You hadn't touched your phone since you'd tossed it away earlier and you hadn't moved from your bed until an hour ago when you'd made your way to the piano in your living room.

One time what felt like an eternity ago, Harry had found you absolutely devasted after you thought a heavy argument with one of your close friends had led to the end of your friendship, and he'd told you: "some times emotions are easier to feel if you express them through music" and he'd made you sit down on the same piano bench you were sitting on now, listening while you wrote a song about every emotion that you'd felt. You remembered how he'd been right, that the feelings had actually been more bearable after you'd sang the words. Maybe it would work that way this time too? Honestly, at this point, you were willing to try anything to minimize the painful aching in your chest.

You'd just been staring at the piano in front of you for the last hour though, no words coming to mind that could express exactly what you were feeling. You kept thinking of Harry with this new person: was he with her right now, lying next to her in bed? Were they cuddling? Did he pull her tight to his chest while his head rested atop of hers as he'd always done with you? Were they having deep pillow talks till far into the night, like the two of you used to? Did he touch her the way he'd touched you? Did her entire body ignite whenever he kissed her, as yours had always done?

You knew who she was, Olivia Wilde, the director of the movie Harry had worked so hard on the last couple of months. You remembered the day he'd come home, so excited that he'd gotten the role in the movie, and you'd been equally as excited for him and so fucking proud. Not once had you imagined that you'd be sitting here now, while Harry was starting a new relationship with her. Was she treating him right? You fucking hoped so. Even though you wanted to hate her with your entire being, you couldn't seem to be mad at her. Maybe she was giving him what you couldn't, maybe he was happier with her. God, he deserved to be so happy.

Suddenly a thought formed in your head and the fingers that had only been lightly touching the piano keys now pressed down to make the instrument play out a soft melody.

Take it If he gives you his heart Don't you break it

Your voice was weak as it escaped from your lips. You hadn't spoken to a lot of people the past couple of weeks, having barely used your voice and you couldn't even remember the last time you'd been singing. Losing Harry had made you shy away from your passion for music and writing, too many memories.

Let your arms be a place He feels safe in He's the best thing that you'll ever have

You kept going as the words formed in your head, directing the song to Harry's new lover. Even though it brought you so much pain to see Harry with someone else, you were willing to let him go if she was for him what he needed. All you wanted was for him to be happy and complete, you wanted him to have the world and you'd never been able to give him that.

Memories started appearing in your head like flashbacks behind your closed eyelids. Memories that you and Harry had shared, memories that made you smile slightly even though it shattered your heart to know that you would never share moments like them with him again. While being with Harry, you were the happiest you'd ever been and maybe you were never gonna feel that again, but it was okay as long as he was happy.

He always has trouble Falling asleep And he likes to cuddle While under the sheets

You'd spent many long nights next to Harry in bed, running your fingers through his hair and speaking softly to help him find sleep when it had been so hard for him. He'd always told you how there was no feeling that could compare to being curled up to you in bed, holding you so close to him that you could hear his heartbeat. The most peaceful moments you'd ever experienced with him were these intimate moments where you never wanted to move out of his embrace, praying that you could just stay in his arms forever.

Reality hit you now, that those moments were long gone, but you just wished with all your heart that she would hug him just the way he loved it and that she would be there for him during those sleepless nights he had when adrenaline wouldn't stop running through his body after working too much, or whenever a storm of thoughts in his head was keeping him awake.

He loves Pop songs And dancing, and bad trash TV

Harry's taste in music had always been something else. It was so wide, almost every genre of music was presented on his playlist, but you remembered you'd been surprised when you found all the cliche pop songs on there. You knew, of course, that Harry had spent five years in a boyband, singing pop songs, but to you, he just hadn't seemed like the type to listen to Ariana Grande and Katy Perry, but you'd been so wrong.

You couldn't count how many romcoms and shitty reality shows you'd watched with Harry during your time together. He'd always found them very enjoyable, and you would be lying if you didn't enjoy the times you'd been cuddled up to him on the couch while watching Love Island and discussing all the people you voted for and all the people you absolutely couldn't stand with each other.

He loves love notes and babies And likes giving gifts

A single tear escaped your eye and ran down your cheeks at the thought of all the love notes Harry had given you in the past. After you'd started dating, you'd worn his clothes so much, just because it smelled like him. His hoddies, shirts, sweatpants, jackets, you'd stolen it all from him, you're excuse being that it was more comfortable than your own clothes. Harry had never minded though, in fact, he'd always loved to see you walk into the kitchen in his shirt in the mornings or walk out of the house in a pair of his sweatpants paired with something like a white tank top.

At some point, he started putting little notes in the pockets of his hoddies or pants, knowing you'd put the items on the next day and find the sweet notes he hid. It was just small things like I love you or have a great day, love or excited to see you tonight, but they had always melted your heart, making you love him just that more.

Has a hard time accepting A good compliment

Harry had always showered you with compliments, every chance he got, always making you smile. You'd always made sure to tell Harry what an amazing person he was and how talented he was, how beautiful his music was and how absolutely gorgeous he looked, and every single time a sweet comment like that had left your mouth, Harry had blushed slightly while looking down at his feet. He would start making excuses, saying that it was nothing special every time you were amazed by a new song he'd written, and telling you he didn't know what you were talking about every time you'd told him how good he looked.

Knowing that he'd never been good at receiving compliments, you'd made sure to attack him with them all the time, and even though he never admitted it, you knew he thought about your words with a lot of consideration, eventually, you hoped, he started believing them.

You just wanted her to keep telling him those sweet things every day because he needed to hear them.

He loves his whole family And all of his friends

You thought of Harry's family and how he'd been so proud when he'd introduced you to them for the first time. He always put his family above everyone and though he didn't see them as much as he wanted to, he made sure that they never questioned how much they meant to him.

You'd admired the relationship he had with his family, especially his mother and sister, you could just tell how much he adored them. You'd never really had a home with that kind of love. You were an only child, so no siblings, and your mother had passed away while you were still young, leading your father into years of alcoholism and depression.

You'd never felt safe and loved until you met Harry, he was your family. That was probably the hardest part for you to let go of, the feeling of safety you'd had whenever you were wrapped in his arms or from simply being in the same room as him.

He was such a giving person, never asking for much. He had a lot of friends and they all adored him, how could they not? He had this ability to make you feel so special and he was such a good listener too, giving you all his attention whenever you told him something, not letting anything distract him.

So if you're the one he lets in Take it If he gives you his heart Don't you break it Let your arms be a place He feels safe in He's the best thing that you'll ever have He'll love you If you love him

You sang, and god, the words hurt. It felt like your chest was being pried open and your heart ripped out and shredded into pieces. You had to mov eon though, for your own good. You never wanted to forget Harry, he would always have a piece of you, but this grieve that you were feeling had to decrease, you could barely live a life when it hurt so bad.

If Olivia was the one for Harry, then so be it, if she made him happy you couldn't argue. Obviously you hadn't made him as happy as he'd made you, but you hadn't realized that until he'd walked out the door and it was too late. He had let go of you and now it was time for you to do the same, you just wanted, no needed her to treat him right.

On days when It feels like the whole World might cave in Stand side by side And you'll make it He's the best thing that you'll ever have He'll love you If you love him like that

You always thought that Harry and you could get through anything, and your relationship had been put to a lot of tests throughout your time together but never had you thought that one of these obstacles would actually get the better of you.

You remembered that day so clearly. The day your whole world fell apart slowly with every step Harry took towards your front door, and it all crashed down on you when he sat down in his car and drove away without even one last glance in your direction. You hadn't talked to him after that, but still, he remained the single thing on your mind 24/7. It hurt you how quickly he had moved on, but you couldn't be mad because you felt at blame for your relationship ending in the first place.

Harry had always said that as long as you stood together, then absolutely nothing could come in the way of you two, and the only time you hadn't been side by side, that's when you fell apart. You'd always appreciated him so much, sometimes you'd thought it was impossible to care so much for another human as you cared about Harry.

Your hands started shaking a bit and you could feel the tears slowly appearing in the corner of your eyes. You would never stop caring about Harry, he had such an impact on your life, what were you supposed to do without him? God, would this pain ever stop? As you started the second verse, the tears escaped your eyes and silently ran down your cheeks.

Kiss him with passion As much as you can

You missed kissing Harry. Just his touch had been such an essential part of your day and now that you didn't get to feel that, you needed it more than anything. When you thought of it, it was as if you could still feel his lips on yours, kissing you softly.

You'd kissed a number of guys before you met Harry and you'd thought all of them had been fairly good, but that was until you kissed Harry. You'd shared your first kiss one day while you'd been chilling at Harry's and he just couldn't stop himself as you'd stood in his kitchen and looked so beautiful. You knew Harry had experience, but you remember being completely taken aback by how comfortable the kiss was. It wasn't too wet, but not entirely without his tongue roaming your mouth either. He'd grabbed your waist while your arms snaked their way around his neck, and he'd tasted good after the smoothies he'd made for the two of you earlier that day. You hadn't been able to get enough and he had seemed to have the same problem because you'd barely taken your hands off each other for the rest of the night.

Harry was a very affectionate person and he’d loved holding you, kissing you, just touching you in general. It had made you feel so loved and now where that feeling had belonged in your chest, was just emptiness. You were certain no one could ever make you feel the way Harry had, he could make your entire body feel like it was on fire just by holding your hand.

Run your hands through his hair Whenever he's sad

It wasn't often Harry had been sad in front of you, let alone cried, but it had happened a couple of times, and many times he'd come home and you'd been able to see that something was wrong, but he would deny it. It wasn't because he’d been embarrassed to be sad in front of you, but he’d often pushed it away because he didn't want to burden you. You knew him well though and you could tell the second he would walk in the door, that something was wrong. If he didn't want to talk about it, mostly you'd just put a romcom on the television and pulled him into your arms while you'd cuddled on the sofa, gently running your fingers through his soft curls. You would do anything to brush your fingers through his hair right now...

And when he doesn't notice How amazing he is Tell him over and over

So he never forgets

On the outside, Harry had always made a great effort to appear confident and independent, but when you'd managed to get to know him behind that exterior, you'd discovered that he had a bunch of his own insecurities. He always questioned if his music was good enough, if his performances were good enough, if he was a good idol, if he deserved everything he had, if he was good enough.

Once you'd found out he felt this way a lot of the time, you'd always made sure to tell him how absolutely extraordinary you thought he was. You hoped that she would tell him too, help him build a better image of himself in his head.

You managed to get through the chorus again before your feelings became too overwhelming and you had to stop. Your fingers halted on the piano while your tears had become slightly more uncontrollable.

You couldn't help but think that you were pathetic for sitting here when Harry had clearly moved on with someone else. You'd realized how much your joy had depended on him, but you had to be able to live a life without him. How could you move on when Harry had completed you though?

It was cliche, but you felt like you were missing a part of you and without Harry, you would never be able to get it back. It was like he'd been too good for you, so he had been taken away from you. You had always known you didn't deserve him, but you'd tried your very hardest to be worthy of his love, but you weren't and now someone was making you pay for those years where you'd been granted his affection without actually deserving it.

What were you supposed to do? How the fuck were you supposed to live a life when your source of happiness had been taken away from you?

With tears still in your eyes and your body shaking, you removed yourself from the piano and went back to bed, hoping that maybe tomorrow would be the day he would come knocking at your door, because moving on from him clearly wasn’t an option...

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A/n: I've got a bunch of requests that's been sitting in my inbox for so long and I'm sorry I haven't gotten around to them. A bunch of them are with JJ and I just haven't been in the mood to write for him lately, I've just kinda been diving deeper and deeper into my Harry obsession (when am I not), but I'll get around to them at some point. Again I'm really sorry, school is just really stressing me out too, so I haven't been writing much at all, please don't stop requesting though<3

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leotssukinaga · 4 years

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Out of Reach- Mattsun x Reader, Makki x Reader

Chapter Four: Makki’s Ending

Series Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been friends with Mattsun, Makki, Iwaizumi and Oikawa since first year, and you guys are an unstoppable team. But your crush, and Makki’s, might just bring everything tumbling down A/N: I couldn’t get the sad ending to work on paper I literally spent like 3 hours trying and it just wouldnt. So this has two endings now, sorry! Both of them are gonna have an epligoue too. Those are gonna hurt you.

Watching you and Makki grow closer, as you drifted away from him, hurt Mattsun deeply. There'd been a time when it was him you asked to proof read your essays, him you baked good luck brownies for when he had an exam or a game. A time when you called him when things were bad and you needed a shoulder, or when it was raining and you forgot your umbrella and needed someone to bring you one. He'd never have imagined a day when that changed, and yet it came. He watched out the window of the library as Makki made his way towards you, umbrella in hand, and slung an arm round your shoulder as the two of you began to walk home. Maybe Oikawa had been right about this one. He hated to think it, but he couldn't deny that the evidence was there.

He'd never know that you thought Makki was just being a good friend, nor that the reason you'd drifted away from him was because you felt like you were drowning every time his girlfriend came up.You'd noticed, though, that slowly things had gotten easier. Nishiyama's name no longer made you feel sick, but Makki's hugs made butterflies bloom in your stomach. You hated your luck. Why couldn't you fall for a guy who wasn't your best friend?

• • • • • • • • • • "Okay, what's wrong?" "Nothings wrong, Makki." "You know I can tell when you're lying, right?" You sighed, looking up from your books and meeting his gaze. "I'm just thinking, is all." "What about?" You. "Nothing important." "You'd tell me if something was up, right?" "'Course I would." That's a lie, you thought, I'm catching feelings for yet another guy I can't have and this time it's you. Something had to be wrong with you. First Mattsun, now Makki? And it wasn't like you had anyone to go to, this time. Iwa was focused on school and volleyball right now, bothering him would be a shitty thing to do, and Oikawa would just be insufferable about this. Mattsun had been your first friend in high school, and going to your first crush to talk about your new crush felt wrong, especially considering you weren't entirely over Mattsun anyway.

But there was so much you wanted to tell Makki, so much you could never say, that you had nobody to relay to. You could never admit that it'd been a while since you'd felt the need to run away when Nishiyama came up, but that you'd still made excuses because the times when you and Makki sat alone in a classroom, eating together and talking about anything that came to mind, made even your worst days bearable. You could never admit that the framed photo of you and Mattsun on your desk was now a photo of you and Makki (the Mattsun photo was still in your room, but it was on the wall with all the other photos of you and the squad now. You considered the desk sacred ground, where you put your most cherished memories,) or that you hadn't actually forgotten your jacket for a while now, you just liked when he gave you his. You couldn't tell him that every playlist you'd made in the past month had him as the icon, that every character in every book you read bore his face when you imagined them. He'd never know that when you stopped writing in class to stare out the window, you hoped you'd see him walking by, despite knowing that he was in class too. Nor that every poem in the notebook you kept under your pillow was written for him, that you'd bought a new one especially for that.

Likewise, there were things Makki could never tell you- though both your secrets could be spilled if even one of them left your mouths. He'd never tell you that he had alarms set for the middle of the night, just in case you needed company; that his favourite hoodie was only his favourite because it was the one he always gave to you; that he didn't even have a favourite colour until you told him yours in first year and suddenly it was his, too. Nor that he had an album on his phone of pictures he'd taken of cats to send to you when you were upset; that when his teacher asked him to write about love he wrote about you. You didn't know that if he never got into heaven, he'd still spend eternity happy enough, knowing that he got to hold you in his arms just once while you slept (you'd gotten the flu, and he got it too because he refused to leave your side.) How could he ever tell you that he understood now, why people gave up everything for love, because he would pull the stars from the sky and arrange them around you if only to see you smile for a moment? That he'd never felt closer to understanding himself than when you looked into his eyes? You both had your secrets, and neither of you knew that they converged on the same path. But perhaps, one day, you'd find out.

• • • • • • • • • • "Hey, Y/N?" You turned to see Mattsun jogging to catch up with you, and waited. "Oh hey, whats up, Mattsun?" "I need to ask you something." He couldn't help but think how cute you were as you cocked your head slightly in curiosity. "What is it?" "Are you and Makki together?" Your face flushed, and you looked away. "I-ah...no. We aren't." "But you want to be, right?" "H-How'd you know?" "You're not good at hiding when you're flustered, Y/N." You smiled a little. You remembered why you'd fallen for him, how could you forget? Even as the feelings faded, he'd always hold a place in your heart. "You should tell him." It broke his heart to say it, but he wanted you to be happy. Makki could do that. "I can't, Mattsun." "Why?" "Because, I'm tired of falling for guys that don't like me! If I ignore it maybe it'll go away." "You know it won't." You groaned and buried your face in his shoulder. Things were so much easier when you liked Mattsun, because you knew he didn't like you. With Makki, you had no proof, just your own insecurities. That just made everything worse. "What do I do, then?" "You know what I'm gonna say." "I hate this." "I'm about to be the worst friend ever." "What d'you mean?" "He likes you." "Mattsun..." "I'm serious. Middle of first year, on a training camp, he told me he thought he was in love with you.Honestly, I thought he was kidding, but looking back I don't think I've ever seen him that serious. And it makes sense, you know? Just... you should tell him." "You're sure he meant it?" "Yeah, I'm sure." He hoped Makki wouldn't be too mad at him for telling you. This was for the best, right? You'd date Makki, he'd move on from you and be happy with Nishiyama. Things would be good. Yeah. Things would be great.

• • • • • • • • • • Makki rounded the corner, excited to see you. At least, until he actually saw you, and you were talking to Mattsun. You were blushing, and his heart broke a little as you buried your face in his shoulder. Of course you still liked Mattsun He was stupid, really, letting himself dream. Letting himself hope that you didn't, that you'd developed feelings for him instead. He should've learned, back when you first told him about your crush. Why hadn't he learned?

• • • • • • • • • • When the doorbell rang that evening, Makki ignored it. His parents had late visitors pretty often. When someone knocked on his bedroom door, however, he couldn't ignore that. He hadn't expected you, though. Honestly, you looked like you'd run a marathon, and you were biting incessantly at your lip. You were still perfect, but he wasn't sure you could ever not be. "Y/N... somethings wrong." "No there's not... I need to talk to you. Can I come in?" "Always." He stepped aside and you walked into his room. You immediately began to pace. "Whats got you so worked up?" "I must be going insane, I'm not actually gonna do this, am I?" "Do wha-" You interrupted him, certain you’d never get the words out if you didn’t say them right there and then. "I stopped liking Mattsun like, a month ago. At least." That piqued his interest. "Why didn't yo-" "Because you're the reason. I don't know when I started to like you but God, everything I feel for you is so much stronger than any thing I've ever felt before. Every poem I've written has been about you, every thought I have has you buried in it somewhere. Mattsun was- I don't know. Maybe I was infatuated with him? I genuinely don't think it matters anymore because all I fucking think about is you, Takahiro. And I wasn't gonna tell you, I was just gonna pine for you for eternity because I couldn't handle the idea that you might not feel the same. But I'm just tired, Makki. I need to know. So could you maybe get a readable expression on your face before I have an anxiety attack, please?" And he did. His mouth dropped open. "You..." "Yes." "Christ alive." "You know, that's so not helpful." "Sorry I just... I spend nearly 3 years convinced you'll never like me and you wait a month and decide to tell me anyway?" "I'm impatient." "Well, I know that.” "Wait- 3 years?" "About that, yeah." You smiled, and reached out to take his hand. It was warm, and rough- calloused from years of volleyball- but he was gentle as he slipped his fingers between yours. "You know, I like it when you say my given name." "I'll have to do it more often then, Takahiro." The smile he gave you could've melted your heart. Everything about him could, if you were being honest. You didn't mind. It was his to melt.

#my writing #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagines #matsukawa #matsukawa issei #mattsun #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #mattsun x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki #makki #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader

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katelynnt · 3 years

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Strawberry Fields

Chapter 4

The plane ride was quite boring, I mainly slept. Our plan is to spend the day going through the main tourist attractions and then get on a train to Liverpool, which is what we did. We went to Buckingham Palace, Big Ben (which fun fact is actually called Elizabeth Tower, but the old bell inside was called Big Ben... Anyway). The British Museum, Natural History Museum, St. Paul's Cathedral...

I was most excited to go to Abbey Road...

My mother on the other hand hated the whole trip, I keep pointing out spots I knew The Beatles had been to as well as just talk, and talk, and well talk.

Both Cassandra and I were exhausted, at the end of the day, we made it to King's Cross, cause you know Hogwarts... Anyway, we got tickets for Liverpool.

My feet hurt...

The train ride was tiring, my mother went on and on about how she met this man at the hotel. Let's just say she is up $100, as to how she got it I don't know nor do I care.

I zoned out listening to music as I do. Elton John's Sacrifice came on I couldn't help but get lost in my mind. I thought about Thomas, even though I'm young and have no clue what love is, I know I didn't love him. And if he's honest he doesn't love me, we're just a show for our parents, nothing more.

Hopefully by the time I'm 18, in what, 2 years? I'll leave him and mainly my mother behind.

I don't hate her... she's my mom, after all, but she's difficult. She is, as Madonna says, a 'material girl.' Does that make her a villain, no, does it make her distant and cold... yes. She's no whore, of course, she wouldn't stoop so low. She just can convince others to do what she wants, which has helped us in the past. It scares me I may have that ability, given her comment about my father... whoever he may be.

In school I was good at speaking, working with others, being a 'leader' as my teacher called it. How I do it is beyond me, maybe it's my father in me, maybe he's a leader, a politician, CEO, lawyer, or hell a really smart homeless man. Mom has never talked about him, only that he gives her money for me. Most likely he was a one-night stand with a wife and my mom put him under her spell as she does. I know I'll never know who he is, and I've made my peace with that fact. However I do get curious at times, think of what could be, what he would be like if he's sweet... or a dick.

"Wednesday morning at five o'clock As the day begins Silently closing her bedroom door Leaving the note that she hoped would say more"

I knew immediately what song this was, I smile, its as if my phone knew exactly how I was feeling

She (we never thought of ourselves) Is leaving (never a thought for ourselves) Home (we struggled hard all our lives to get by) She's leaving home, after living alone, for so many years

The song didn't make me feel sad, instead, I felt safe, its almost like John was speaking directly to me telling me it will be ok that I wasn't alone. I know its a silly thought but I couldn't help but think, what made him write something like this, why did it represent everything I knew?

This is why I love music, and why I'm here. Music can speak to millions of people make them feel something, helps them cope with life. It's a made my hell feel a bit more bearable.

I looked out the window and I notice we are arriving at the station, I chuckled, I spent close to 3 hours thinking about The Beatles and my mother. If that doesn't sum up my life I don't know what does.

I grab my luggage and walk down the aisle with my mother in the toe. I step off the train and feel the wind picking up, it wasn't cold but it wasn't warm either. England weather was going to take some getting used to, right now back home it's probably hot as balls. It was late 9:30-ish with the only source of light being the lights on the station and roads.

My mother comes up from behind me turning as she states, "Valerie, get the Uber would you." She looks around the platform as if someone was going to mug us if she took her eyes off the area. "Yes, Cassandra." I joked. She turned to face me with a raised eyebrow. I put my hands up in surrender, she rolled her eyes and gave me the name of the hotel.

After a good 15 minutes the car pulls up at the entrance we get in and I look out into the night. I didn't hear my mom until I felt her pinching my arm "Ow what the hell?" I yelped. "Language" she scolds, "Sorry but what did you expect." I realized we made it to the hotel, I thank the driver and grab my book-bag and small dark blue duffle bag. I look to see the hotel in front of me. It was quite modern with glass surrounding it, and the view around was gorgeous with the ocean just a few yards ways. With more tall buildings and a large walkway nearby.

We walk through the doors and are greeted with cold air blasting, most likely the AC but damn it was cold. As I look around I see the front desk, it was again very modern, the desk itself was a grey with black stone on top, next to it was a glass staircase going who knows where a wooden couch stood in the middle with the wood making a light "C" in its shape.

I slumped down on the said couch as mom walks up to the lady behind the desk. I pull my phone and headphones back out and get my playlist going, looking through my phone seeing if anyone has texted me (No one did). I look through my social media see the comments left on my latest post of the train before I boarded. I don't use social media often, I find the people on it too snobby for their own good. It's mainly for me to put things I want to see later in life, like a time capsule in your pocket.

Cassandra looks back at me with an annoyed face, I know that face, its the "get your ass over here" face. I gathered my things and look over my shoulder to see her walking towards me with a key card in her hand.

"I'm starving and they don't have food here, I need you to go out get and something." She stated very bluntly going through her phone. I swear shes on that thing more than I do.

"Where? I didn't see anything places nearby" I questioned, I didn't like the idea of walking around in the middle of the night in a place I didn't recognize. My mom didn't even look up, "You'll be fine, go ill take the bags" She then handed me a key card and two $20's, or should I say pounds, I don't know... she then shooed me away.

I walk out of the hotel, it was surprisingly warmer than expected with the dry air blowing slightly. I started walking to my right, I had no idea where I was going I just let my feet carry me where they wanted hoping they'd lead me to food.

As I looked around I saw buildings left, right and center, I pass a cafe that was closed. My phone was close to dying at only %2, so it would be of no help. I walked for a bit longer looking at the headlights of passing cars and street lights before a knot rose in my stomach... I'm lost. I make a left at a stoplight watching the cars pass. My mind went to my mom, "She's probably sleeping" I muttered to my self know she wouldn't have been helpful anyway.

I continued walking until a reached a stone wall, it was covered in graffiti and was maybe 5 feet tall. I looked and saw a few words written on the walls but didn't stop to read them.

Then I saw it, the red gates of Strawberry Fields. "Holy shit" I yelled to no one.

I read the sign and I was right, it was Strawberry Fields with a few words under it like "Forever", "Paul is DEAD", and a few signatures. I couldn't help but laugh, I was smiling like crazy forgetting completely about my previous predicament.

Looking around I didn't see anyone, peering inside the gates it as well seems vacant.

An idea forms in my head, one I know will get me in huge trouble. However, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Gears start to turn in my head, I look around once more.

What if I do what He did? What if I jump the gate and walk around? This was a safe place, a second home. Maybe I could see what it was like. Maybe I could see where the amazing John Lennon spent his time.

God, I sound like a creep... Well, when it came to The Beatles I was, I mean I knew everything about them, it kinda scares my friends and family. I know everything they did to the date. If that didn't count as creepy I don't know what was.

"Ok, That's it! "I yelled out of nowhere, making up my mind.

I looked at the walls I couldn't climb over them but maybe if I found something tall I can jump over. I walked around to see a raised part of the ground like a small hill at the back end of the wall. It was just high enough to jump on the top of the wall and look over a large garden.

I jumped down and land on my hands and knees, slowly I got up and cleaned off the dirt from my hands.

A huge tree if the first thing I see, it overlooks the street and sidewalk. I walk past it to see a small path with small plants along with it. I was somewhat taken care of, but it still had a wild feel to it. Flower and bushes all around hiding the wall I just came from, it was like I entered a whole new planet.

"Hm, I can tell why John came here." I thought. It was peaceful you couldn't hear the cars passing by now and then, only the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet.

I continued on the path until I came upon a bench it sat on a hill slightly overlooking a large part of the garden. I sat down setting my phone and headphone out of my pocket to sit comfortably. Sitting down I noticed a building that was quite modern looking, mostly the store/museum for the place.

I sat for what felt forever humming "Strawberry Fields Forever", then "I will", "Till there was you" until I closed my eyes. I have never felt more relaxed, I started to get drowsy (I wasn't surprised I was humming myself to sleep).

Soon I laid down on the bench eyes still closed...

HIIII I loved writing this way back when, just before high school started. Any way I hope you liked it as much as I do!

#the beatles #john lennon #ringo starr #george harrison #fanfic

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fanficparker · 5 years

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Faking, Falling > Part 2

Harrison Osterfield x Reader (Fake dating! Unrequited love switcheroo!)

Word count: ~2.3k words

Warning: Swearing, Angst, Fuckboy attitude

Summary: Harrison has some walls he wants to break but ends up repairing them again & again.

<< PART 1 [ MASTERLIST ] PART 3 >>

Ting

The light sound of clinking wine glasses, followed by soft laughs filled the room, a lot less busy than it was on weekends.

"You are really late Harrison, we were expecting you to flake out!" Claire chuckled, walking towards Harrison, her smooth tanned legs shimmering in the yellow light. Before Harrison could remove the wine glass from his lips and answer, she snatched it from his hand and sipped the liquid. It didn't even take her a minute to throw her legs over Harrison's and sit on his lap.

"Sorry babe, I was thirsty," she simply said, ignoring her old question and Harrison was no more bothered to answer it as her sitting on his lap was more of a headache for him.

"I will get myself a beer then," he tried to move but she pushed him back.

"Please babe take me home..." She whined like a child wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Harrison's friends scrunched their nose giving him the 'no PDA' look. He nodded ignoring the beautiful girl whose presence was mentally strangling him. To be honest, he wasn't interested to go anywhere with her. Claire was already drunk much before Harrison joined them in the pub, he was sure she had already undressed and dressed twice with some other guy or guys. Her dress was creased and her hair looked like sex hair. He didn't want her hands on his body, who knows if she even washed them after whatever she did. The thought of Claire's maybe dirty hands made the bile rise up to his throat. But he didn't want to look disrespectful or create any scene. It isn't like Claire never slept with him before, but he didn't want her anymore.

Slowly and slowly he felt drunker than any of the days he was actually drunk. He hasn't even properly taken a sip of alcohol but his head was already spinning. He could no more tell what his friends were talking about or hear the music. Maybe it was because of the pair of boys standing at the corner, their backs facing him. Both were shorter than him and had brown curls. Just one of them had thicker curls than the other and maybe his shade of brown was much closer to red. Damn, he wanted it to be Tom and Harry. They must be Tom and Harry. He hasn't met any of the Hollands or Tuwaine for a long time. He wished with all his heart that they were them. He waited for them to turn to face him. He felt weird. He felt hopeless yet hopeful. He never shifted his gaze from the boys. Maybe, maybe someone told them of his weird gaze because they shifted and turned, finally.

No.

It wasn't them. They were someone else, just had similar hair. They squinted their eyes making Harrison turn to the other side only to face his new friends.

Friends...

Sometimes he asked himself why he was even considering them friends. They weren't anything like Tom or Tuwaine or the twins. But the latter were now no more his friends. The spinning in his head was no more alone, his throat and chest were burning too. He tapped Claire's shoulder but she still didn't move.

"Get up. Get the fuck up!" He whispered in her ear with gritted teeth, almost threatening her. Claire didn't say anything else and removed herself from him. He ignored the questions his 'friends' were asking and walked out of the pub.

No one followed him, and he didn't expect either.

At least he could breathe air. Instead of getting in his car, he decided to walk along the pavement. He shoved his hands inside his jeans pocket, he felt the chill breeze touching his cheeks but it only made the burning sensation bearable. He kept walking until he saw the café, the café he had spent the most time in. It was small and closed but one of the finest in London.

He peeked through the glass, the lights from the street lamps showed the setup. His head drifted back to memories... The memories... The memories when he and Tuwaine would tease Tom and Harry with the breakfast pouring their least favourite syrup on their waffles or pancakes while Sam was the one shaking his head at the stupidity. No one cared if people watched them, made faces for their nuisances, all that mattered was they were friends, more like brothers enjoying in their typical 'div' manner. Sometimes Harrison's sister Charlotte used to join them, but she had her head inside the phone, Sam's girlfriend joined frequently, sometimes more friends and sometimes Shelly used to join them too...

Shelly...

He puffed air remembering her face making the fog stick to the window panes. He rubbed it off with his palm, but this time instead of looking inside he focused on his own reflection.

He looked different. The mirror could tell he had changed from outside, but what it couldn't tell was how much he had changed from inside.

He thought he hated the old him. But he was wrong. He hated what he has become. He closed his eyes and breathed through his nose, calming his heart rate. He didn't want to go to his lonely flat. It's been a while he slept in his family house or ate with them. He missed how much he wanted to pat his dog Monty, how much he wanted to play with him or smile at the breakfast table when his mom made him breakfast accompanied with a little smiley she drew using ketchup or honey.

He checked the time. It was already 1:30 am. The new Harrison would never call his family at this time, he hated when they asked too many questions. But he missed the old him. He didn't waste any time and called his mom telling her that he was coming home and that there was nothing to worry about. He didn't care his family home was the complete opposite of where he was right now, he just drove there and it felt comforting.

* * *

You exhaled deeply, sipping your coffee.

"Is that Harrison's car?"

Yes, it was his car. You saw him through the open window. You instantly checked the time on your phone.

8:20 am...

Wasn't he supposed to reach there by six?! That's the only reason you had to stay late yesterday...

The curiosity in you got you up and you found yourself following him behind in your car.

All you remember was searching for the perfect opportunity when he was vulnerable. You were ready to roll your dice. You parked your car just behind him and followed him slowly as he hurriedly rushed inside the building.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

George wasn't yelling but he surely sounded frustrated.

"I just got... stuck in the traffic." Harrison moved his hand through his unruly, uncombed hair, something he did when he knew his excuse was scarily dumb.

He just felt too comfortable and safe sleeping in his family home. He knew he was already an hour late but still waited to eat breakfast with his family and petted his dog. But his mom didn't make that smiley with ketchup on his breakfast this time... Nor his sister talked about any new meme she stumbled across or about her new friends or a crush or something hilarious that happened in a party she attended. They did smile at him and were nice to him. But they weren't them... Maybe... maybe because he wasn't himself.

"It's two and a half hours past six. The photographers were really pissed. It's dangerous for my reputation. How am I supposed to face them again? Should I shut this project?" George slid into the chair, hands on his face. Harrison was always a bit late, but a 'bit' and this time it was literally too much especially when George had invited some prestigious photographers for magazines and advertising.

Harrison could see everything taking a worse turn, his own reputation seemed to be in danger right now. And then he saw you through his peripheral vision. He didn't care whether he considered you stalking but the fact that you were always punctual (and hence trustworthy for George) was something he could use.

"My car first stuck in the traffic and then got punctured, Y/n was right there. You can ask her!" He pointed at your direction as George's head shot up.

Harrison made a pleading expression with his face. Lips shut tight but a bit pouted, eyebrows bent and focused in the middle. He knew you were someone who would literally help anyone in trouble and he was shameless about using you.

But what he didn't know was you were into a game and were ready to help anyone maybe, expect him.

You gave him a smile and he felt assured. He straightened his posture and a proud smile tugged on his lips.

"Is it so Y/n?" George looked at you and you walked to both of them.

"I mean I would really help Harrison with his punctured car if I was there. I got out of the home after 8 myself and found him speeding. I have no idea. And basically, Cath drives via highway and is still on time, I don't know how Harrison got stuck in the traffic. Is it so Harrison?"

All this time Harrison looked at you wide-eyed, jaw slack. He was sure you would say yes, but wow... He had no idea what to say back, he kept shifting his gaze from George to you and you to George.

"Well, I gotta do my work so excuse me." And you moved away from the drama with a smirk on your face. Smirking was no more his thing now.

* * *

You were relaxing at your table when Harrison stormed in.

"Are you possessed or something?" He said with an annoyed expression. "You really could have simply said yes and you said---"

"The truth?" You raised your eyebrows.

"Uh-ah" He was once again devoid of replies, mouth slightly open. Still, he tried his best to defend himself.

"But-but... You could have lied. Now George will think I am a liar." He was unsure of his own words, he threw his hands to look justified, to hide how much your words were able to manipulate him, make him look weak.

"Become a liar myself to save your lying ass. Sounds fair." You pretended as if his presence or absence didn't matter making you read the magazine than looking at him.

"It affected my self-esteem." He said quietly which made you look at him.

"Like you cared for mine at Rick's party. I didn't ask you to lie, to pretend as if... as if you like me. And how did you treat me?"

This time you weren't acting...

"It's old Y/n. No one remembers---"

"I remember! Wished someone did that to you. You would know how it felt." You made your way out, not noticing how your little words completely swept away all the colour from his face.

***

Days went by and you were happy that you were really not at all giving Harrison any of your attention, although after the little conversation he didn't actually bother you much. Maybe your little plan was working. But you weren't satisfied with your work, you wanted all your venom for him. You wanted to hate him utterly and wanted him to know that you hated him.

Maybe you could do something terrible like he did?

But then won't you both be the same?

But what he did, is it worth to be forgiven or for god sake forgotten?

You thought about it all weekend, reaching no conclusion in specific.

There's isn't just any article available on the internet to teach you how to hate someone.

The more you thought about it, the more you asked yourself the question, is your goal is to show him hate or make him realise what he did deserve the hate?

There weren't many days left for the shoot to get over. You won't have to deal with him anymore. Why waste this precious time thinking about him? But you really can't completely get him out of your mind at the same time.

And then it hit like a switch. Simon who is also your assistant had a good fight over something with Harrison. And Simon was also the one who just a week ago asked you on a date. Why don't you date your enemy's enemy? Especially when Simon is nothing like Harrison...

***

All-day during the work you tried your best to be near Simon and when finally, in the lunchtime he looked relaxed you decided it was the best time to talk.

"I really thought about what you said. I mean I really thought about you..."

He gave you a confused look.

"Thought about what exactly?"

"I mean you are really nice and sweet and I think I can manage my time and think about... You know that... date?"

Fuck. This wasn't supposed to be this direct. What if he's no more interested. You sank on your seat, about to die from embarrassment when Simon chuckled... More like happily giggled.

"I am really really happy that you thought about it. I will love to follow up."

There was the biggest smile on his lips which in turn made you smile.

Fuck that time when Harrison made you smile with his fake ones. Fuck him.

"So tonight?" He asked.

"Tonight." You replied almost trying not to smile more.

Now all you have to do is go on this date and also in some way make Harrison know how much his enemy was better than him...

_________________________

I love you & your feedbacks... But idk if you love me...

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#harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield fic #haz osterfield imagine #haz osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield oneshot #peter parker x reader #harrison osterfield series #haz osterfield x reader #haz osterfield fanfiction #Harrison Osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #haz Osterfield x you #haz Osterfield x y/n #faking falling

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hollandroos · 6 years

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Apocalyptic Pt.2

Part 1 - Peter Parker X Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU/ This has a walking dead feel to it. Peter saves the reader from being killed but she doesn’t exactly react as he’d expected.

Summary: After Peter saves the reader again, neither of them want to be alone again (even if neither of them will admit it) this means they have to learn to deal with each others presence all while trying to stay alive.

Words: 1468

You woke up a small, pained groan. Your head was still thumping, probably from hitting the gravel and your eyes burned due to the sudden change in contrast.

To say you were shocked to wake up was an understatement. Seconds before you’d passed out you’d thought that you were either going to be killed by the stranger- Peter, or left to be zombie food.

You looked around, taking in the room. The walls were painted a dark grey, though it was hard to see from the amount of blood and grime. It smelt like death too, did you really want to imagine how many people died in here? All in all a part of you was relieved to be indoors, not out with them. The other part was telling you to get up and run.

You noticed now that his hair was longer than you had originally thought, extremely knotted too. But the bags under his eyes were the most noticeable feature. It looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, this wouldn’t surprise you.

He sat only a few meters away going through a fresh bag of supplies. You saw Canned food ranging from peaches, beans, corn, soup and even a can of pears. There were water bottles, first aid supplies, a fluffy coat or two to help with the raging cold. They were items that were scarce and if seen by the wrong people, could cause a fight to the death.

You sat up slowly, feeling the blanket bunch around your waist.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask the long awaited question, he had every advantage right now. While you tried to hide the fear in your voice you couldn’t stop the way your hand shook slightly. Not having a weapon in hand was now a foreign feeling. It made you feel anxious and vulnerable.

“No, unless you try to kill me then i’ll have no choice” He says it so blankly, almost as if he’d had the same question asked before. His eyes were cast downwards for a moment before he looked up. His eyes looked softer than the last time you looked into them. There was no longer that almost deadly looking fire they held when he struck his knife through the skull of those walkers. No, this time they held concern.

It didn’t take long for you to notice your jacket and gloves lay next to you, torn shoes on the floor besides the makeshift bed.

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments before he lifts his head, noticing your wandering eyes. “I had to check for bites. I hope you don’t mind, I just didn’t exactly wanting you turning into one of them and trying to ya know… kill me”

A part of you wanted to yell at him but the other part understood his actions.

“It’s okay” You say, your voice rather quiet and hoarse. Your throat was sore and scratchy, probably from the dehydration. Through It was almost like you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak after only mumbling the odd word or two to yourself for weeks on end. “Thank you for saving me, once again”

“While you may not believe it yet, there are still a few decent human beings out there and I happen to be one of them” He says, a little too harsh for your liking.

“Can you blame me? I’m sure we’ve all been through things in the last couple of months, lost people we thought we’d never lose. People have changed” You reply, sitting up completely but keeping the blanket wrapped around you tightly.

Neither of you wanted an argument right now, you were both to utterly exhausted.

“While you were out I found a small bakery with little supplies left- but some none the less” He hands you a bottle of water and a bar, one that your Mom would’ve put in your lunchbox when you were a child. When the world hadn’t turned to shit. “I hope you aren’t allergic to nuts”

You wanted to turn down the food, refused his help and leave but you were starving, your head was thumping and the possibility of passing out again soon if you didn’t get some kind of substance was high. Plus the bar looked good, slightly expired but after living on plants and road kill your mouth was watering at the sight of packaged, pre apocalypse food.

“When do you want me gone?” You ask, swallowing your first bite of the bar. You knew your stomach would kick you in the ass for this in a few minutes, it's been awhile since you’d had something so… normal. “I can be gone in a few hours, half an hour at the least”

“What? You can’t go yet, you’re still recovering, you did hit your head pretty bad after all” Peter was quick to reply, his eyes wide. “Stick around for a few days, just until you feel better then we can go our separate ways”

You found yourself considering the idea. It sounded wonderful to have an actual person to talk again even if it was just for a few days. You wouldn’t allow yourself to get attached to someone in a time where any one was expendable though. All it took was one bite and you’re as good as dead.

Letting your guard down was a fear nowadays and by considering the idea of sticking by his side for a bit was a way of letting your guard down, and letting your guard down often meant getting killed.

But something about him was so alluring. Maybe it was the fact that he was around the same age as you and had been surviving on his own too, or how he’d bought you back to his safe haven when he could have just left you for dead, it could’ve even been he worry in his eyes when you were getting set to leave.

“I guess I could stick around for a bit, but this isn’t permanent though” You remind him. He sends you a small, but broken smile and finishes organising his supplies. “So how’d you get so good at this, I mean you have more items than most of the scavengers i’ve run into plus you can fight like a pro- I’ve only seen moves like that from the Avengers” You laugh lightly at your last comment, but still you’re interested in hearing about where he learnt what he knew.

Peter remembers the people he called his friends, the people who taught him everything. The Avengers weren't dead that’s for sure, but simply split up after being attacked by a herd. “Before all of this I was friends with a pretty cool group of people. They taught me everything I know from fighting to searching for necessities. We became sort of like a family”

For the first time ever, he misses the days back at the compound when he’d be pulled out of bed at 5am sharp for a training session with Cap, sometimes Natasha. He’d be hurting for days after getting his ass kicked by Nat.

“Where are they now?” You tilt your head.

“Why does it matter to you?” he snaps.

Your face hardens, all sign of pity and remorse gone from your features, though the feelings remain. For a moment you assume they had all been killed.

“They’re alive, I know that much” Peter finishes, noticing your sudden change of appearance. “How about you? You must’ve had someone at the start, where are they?”

You look down, clenching your teeth and refusing to look Peter in the eyes.

In the short span of a couple hours, maybe a day depending on how long you were out for you’d felt all kinds of feelings for the boy in front of you. Anger, Gratefulness, Pity, Now Frustration.

“I don’t want to talk about it”

Peter scoffs, standing up and grabbing his knife and for a second you think he’s going to finally kill you but that quickly changes.

“I’m going out to look for more supplies, I saw a day and night around the corner and wanted to check it out before someone else does, I’ll be back soon”

“I’ll come to” You offer, standing up and sliding on your coat. He pain in your head has gone down to a dull ache, one that’s bearable.

“You just woke up after passing out from dehydration, are you sure you’re up to it?” He asks, quiet rudely if you must add.

“I’m not useless Parker” You take a look out the window, checking for any of the dead before slipping out the door, Peter right behind you, prepared to strike anything that threatens the two of you.

After everything, why did you still crave his company?

Request part 3 here!

Read more of my work!

Tags: @pammy17 @beauluver-blog @villainessqueen @rainbowhunny @kaeling @ajestic @kittykat101ary

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natasha-cole · 7 years

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Ready Steady Part 16

This chapter is shitty and I apologize, I was stuck on where to go with the story, but the next chapters will be better.

Summary:

Rob and Reader return home. They finally have time to catch up on what happened in each other’s lives while they were apart. They begin to come to terms with the idea of being parents.

Word Count: 4047

Warnings: just a lot of domestic fluff, maybe some swears, slightly angsty singing

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

In this chapter, Rob sings “Fair” as a song that he wrote when the reader broke his heart. Nice job reader, I hope you’re happy.

Another Note: I wrote this while I was hungover. It might be terrible, but I tried. It’s just a little something fluffy before the real angst kicks back in.

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

You drifted in and out of sleep that night. Feeling much better than you had before visiting the ER, but still weak and unable to rest completely. The nausea hadn’t returned yet and honestly, your biggest fear was that it would return eventually. You were told that this condition could go on for some time, and future visits to the hospital were a possibility. Perhaps this underlying fear of having to feel that way again is what was bringing you out of your sleep throughout the night. The only thing that made your restlessness bearable was realizing that every time you stirred, Rob was right there with you. He too would wake each time you did; placing gentle kisses to your forehead and mumbling soothing words to you until you relaxed again. Even as the sun began to peek through the blinds in the early morning hours; he was still there, tracing circles along your back, until you were eventually able to rest again.

The next time you woke up, it was because a slight twinge of nausea had returned. You whimpered, realizing that it wasn’t over yet. This time, when you looked to Rob for support, he wasn’t there to console you. You felt your heart race when you realized he was not next to you, wondering what you had done this time to make him want to leave you. You reached for your phone to check the time and when you realized it was late in the afternoon, you felt the panic begin to fade. You knew he was here somewhere, he just didn’t sleep in as late as you had.

You forced yourself from bed; your legs shaky and body still weak. When you stood, you felt your stomach turn even more and you couldn’t help but whine a little at how sick you still felt. You trudged your way to the other room in search of him and found him sitting on the couch, phone to his ear, talking quietly to someone. You waited for a moment, not wanting to interrupt, but he glanced up at you almost immediately.

“Hey, I’m gonna call you back… I’m sorry to bail on everyone last minute, but I hope you understand.” He explained to the person on the other end of the call. He paused for a second, listening as his eyes still watched you.

“Ok, take care. I’ll see you all real soon.” He ended the call and quickly stood up to make his way to you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you in, kissing you lightly on the lips.

“Hey, sweetie… are you okay?” he asked. His blue eyes looked you over as if he were searching for a sign that you weren’t well.

“I’m okay. I’m feeling a little sick again though.”

“Oh shit, yeah. You slept for a long time, I didn’t want to wake you,” he took your hand and pulled you toward the couch, encouraging you to sit. “The doctor said you need to eat multiple small meals throughout the day, it could help with the nausea. You haven’t eaten anything since we got back last night, I’ll make you something.”

“Oh,” was all you said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

He was gone for some time. You could hear him moving things around in the kitchen, and eventually you could smell the aroma of chicken soup which caused you to freeze for a moment. You hoped that the smell wouldn’t send you running for the bathroom like it did the last time. But, the scent didn’t leave you feeling worse this time; instead, you felt your stomach grumble at how hungry you were.

Rob finally returned to the living room, carefully carrying a tray with a bowl, crackers, and a mug. He placed the tray in front of you on the coffee table proudly, “Lunch is served.”

“Thank you,” you said with a smile, mouth watering as you looked at your meal. Your disappointment in the lunch Rob had made for you must have been obvious, because he explained to you quickly why it was not what you were expecting.

“The doctor said bland food… so I just went by the list. Broth and crackers are probably the best way to go considering you just left the hospital. Also, the tea is ginger, I guess it’s supposed to help with nausea.” You stared at him for a moment as he took a seat next to you. You really appreciated how attentive and caring he was being right now. It felt really nice to have him help you through this.

“You actually read the list?” you asked as you carefully took a sip of the broth. So far, so good. It wasn’t making you feel worse.

“Y-yeah. I’ve been reading a lot about pregnancy in general actually,” he explained, motioning to a stack of books on the coffee table. You shoved a cracker into your mouth and began to move the books around to see what he was reading.

“When did you get these?” you asked as you picked up one of the books, mindlessly flipping through the pages.

“The day after you walked out.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I figured… no matter what happened between us, I was still going to be a dad. I wanted to be prepared. I’ve never been a dad before.”

“Oh… yeah. Well, I’ve never been a mom before…” you suddenly realized how unprepared you were. Even Rob had been doing what he could to not only help you get through this morning sickness, but he was also taking the time to learn about what happens during pregnancy. You couldn’t help but admire the man. Even though the two of you had fought and his reaction to you waiting so long to tell him the news was not what you had expected, he had come to terms with the prospect of being a father very quickly.

“How far along are you anyway?” he asked, “everything kinda happened so quickly, we didn’t even have a chance to actually discuss this.” He moved his hand to your belly with those last few words. He let his hand rub circles along your stomach as his eyes met yours. You had to admit; each time he did this, it made your stomach flip a little. Just knowing that he was accepting the fact that the two of you were having a baby was sort of surprising, but this sweet little gesture that he kept partaking in really had you sort of excited about having a baby.

You worked at doing the math in your head, “I guess about 11 weeks now…”

“Wow, so you’re already near the end of the first trimester?”

“Uh, I guess so,” you smiled at him, “you’ve really been reading up about this, huh?”

“Yeah, like I said, I want to be prepared.”

“Well, I’m the one carrying this baby, and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out together, okay?” He said reassuringly, running his hand along your leg.

“I know we will.” You felt relief by his statement. You had been so scared about this before, that you really hadn’t even tried to figure things out. During the weeks after learning that you were pregnant, you did all you could to take your mind off of it; losing yourself in songwriting and recording. For once, you sort of felt like the two of you would figure it out.

You continued to eat your meal, grateful for the tea which actually helped to ease your queasiness. Rob watched you, almost as if he were making sure that you would be okay after having your first meal in days. He looked relieved when you were able to finish your food without having to run to the bathroom afterwards.

“Hey, looks like the medication is helping,” he mused, leaning back against the couch and pulling you into him. You relaxed into his body, feeling content for the first time in months.

“Who were you talking to on the phone?” you asked, genuinely curious as to who he had been talking to earlier since he mentioned bailing on them.

“Oh, it was Billy. I had to back out of the convention this weekend, so I was just making sure that things were squared away with the band and everyone else.”

“What happens when the lead singer bails on the band during convention weekend?” You asked, concerned that he was cancelling his appearance in the first place.

“They just kinda fill in for me throughout the con. The band still plays, but the guys can sing as well… they can handle it.”

“And the concert?”

“It’s a good thing the show has a cast made up of super talented people who can sing.”

“Why did you cancel?”

He cocked his head, looking at you as if you were crazy, “because of what’s going on with you.”

“Me? Why would you let me keep you away from work?”

“Y/N, you were just in the ER… you’re obviously still feeling pretty miserable. I’m not going to leave you knowing what you’re going through.”

“I’m fine. I feel pretty much okay.”

“Still… I’m not going anywhere right now. Besides, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. That was a long two months.”

You nodded, “Yeah it was. A lot happened when I left.”

The two of you sat there, talking about what life had been like while you were away from each other. You told him about the restraining order and how you had to face Chris in the court room, and how in the end, it worked. You hadn’t had any type of run-in with him since the day you saw him at your house. You told him about how you had been breathing a lot easier since then, not having to worry about him for the time being.

You told him about working in the studio, writing and recording songs, and the show that you had done.

“But, you already knew about the show,” you stated, referring to the night when he showed up.

“Yeah, regardless of the situation and how hard it was to see you, it was a really great show. I’ve been amazed with your talent since I first heard you sing. I’m just glad you finally did it.”

“Well, I had someone who actually encouraged me. And, all of those songs were so personal, I understand now why you said you could never give your lyrics away to anyone else.”

“I wrote a lot as well…” Rob said, trailing off.

“Oh yeah?” you sat up to look at him, “I’d like to hear some new Swain stuff.”

Rob chuckled uncomfortably, “You probably don’t.”

“Ouch, I was that bad huh?” You weren’t really hurt by his statement. After all, you had broken the man’s heart. You knew that if someone was willing to break the heart of a musician, you’d better expect at least a few hurtful songs to come out of it.

“Well, it was tough, and I tend to vent my anger into my music. There’s one song in particular that you might not like.”

“I get it. I really do. Still, I’d like to hear it sometime.”

You continued to catch up, this time explaining what you had went through and what you had been feeling when you realized you were pregnant. Rob just listened. You had expected some interjections over the sensitive topic, thinking he might still be feeling a little hurt over how everything had happened. But he only listened, arm draped over your shoulders, holding you as you told him how scared you were to not only being pregnant, but also how scared you were to tell him.

“I was so afraid… I knew I hurt you, and I couldn’t imagine springing that on you to top it off. I just felt like I kept fucking things up… and I didn’t want to do that to you.”

He watched you as you explained everything to him, not interrupting, not getting angry again. It was nice to have an actual conversation with the man, finally being able to discuss everything that should have been brought up a long time ago.

“I have to ask,” he said finally, “you said you left because of your ex, you were afraid of having me in the middle of all that… but after you got the restraining order, why didn’t you call me?”

“Because it’s a piece of paper. It’s a piece of paper that supposedly protects me. There’s no guarantee that he would stay away from you, there’s not even a guarantee that he will continue to stay away from me.”

“Y/N, you’ve got to stop thinking about protecting me. Especially now. Just let me take care of you.”

He was right. The entire mess that was the last few months should not have happened. He had been willing to stay with you even when he learned about Chris and what he was doing. Rob had always been there for you. The problem was that you had never let anyone be there for you. You had learned early on in life how to take care of yourself. You had learned how to not depend on anyone. You knew now that you were in no position to get through this pregnancy alone, much less be a single parent. You realized how lucky you were right now. You had an amazing man who was still by your side and he was going to go through this with you.

“I just realized something,” he stated, running a hand through your hair.

“What?” You nuzzled into him, not wanting this moment to end. There was something so calming about just sitting here with him, finally talking instead of yelling at each other.

“You said you’re about 11 weeks along…”

“Yeah?”

“You got pregnant while we were in Nashville.”

You laughed at him, “well, we certainly had a good time in Nashville, and we weren’t exactly careful.”

“It’s just… sort of crazy isn’t it?” he asked, staring off at the ceiling. You glanced up at him again, a little worried that he might be feeling as overwhelmed by all of this as you were.

“It is. But, this is just where we are. Things happen.” You wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him in as close as you could.

“I’m just glad it happened with you,” he said, placing a kiss to your forehead. You smiled at his sentiment.

“Me too, it makes me feel less afraid.” In hindsight, a situation like this would send any other person into a panic. Having just met someone, break up with them a couple of weeks later, and then finding out you were carrying their child; it would be a lot for anyone to get through. It had of course been stressful. But you knew that you loved Rob and you knew that you could be happy with him. The idea of having a child with him so soon didn’t scare you anymore.

The only thing you worried about was how other people would react to knowing what had went on between the two of you. You thought of his friends who you had started to grow so comfortable around. You knew Rich was supportive of you, at least he didn’t freak out too badly when he heard the news. He had apparently worked hard at trying to help Rob find you to fix things. Not to mention, the ride to the hospital. You couldn’t help but wonder what everyone else would think. You honestly didn’t know how much they even knew. Had Rob told them about how horrible you had been to him? Did they know about you keeping your pregnancy secret for so long? Did they know about the pregnancy at all? It was a lot to think about. You knew that they would find out eventually, you just didn’t want the judgement about how fast you and Rob had moved into this and how stupid you had been to not be careful.

The two of you remained in silence for some time; still holding each other, until you broke the silence.

“Play me that song you were talking about.” You knew it was going to be painful, but you were genuinely curious.

“No, you’ll hear it some other time.”

“Come on, I really want to hear it. I get that it’s probably not going to be nice, but maybe I need to know what I put you through. I mean, you heard all my songs about me leaving you at my show…”

“That’s different,” he argued, “you weren’t writing from the perspective of having just been dumped for no apparent reason.”

“I know, but I still want to hear it.” You stood up and headed towards his collection of guitars where you chose an acoustic. You brought it back to him with a smile.

“Please don’t, I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” he said.

“You won’t. Maybe it’s better that I hear it now, while we’re still trying to fix things between us.” You sat across from him in the chair on the other side of the coffee table, being certain to see him as he played.

“Okay, fine,” he said, beginning to tune the guitar, “just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” When he was finally in tune, he took a deep breath and began to play the music. You could sense that he was uncomfortable with playing the song, but he went along with it. Perhaps he agreed that it was best for you to hear it now. When he began to sing, he averted his eyes from you, focusing on his hands on the guitar.

Goddamn this affair, It's taking me there It's taking away a life of you The vows gone astray, Just for the day Heart so betrayed once tried and true And you, I can't stand what you put me through And you, I can't stand what you put me through This house is a home, But I'm always alone I always atone, But my sins aren't real If I'm wrong then you're gone, If I carry it on If I write it in song, Will my heart still heal Already, the lyrics caused your heart to wrench. You had asked for it… to hear the song. You knew it was going to be difficult right away, but something told you that you needed to hear it. You and Rob shared one very important thing in common, and that was music. You knew that the only way most people would ever really know you, was by listening to your music. That’s where you put your heart and soul. Rob was the same way. He had talked about how he felt when you had left and what that was like for him, but you knew he would say so much more through his lyrics. At this point, you needed to understand fully what he had gone through.

And you, I can't stand what you put me through And you, I can't stand what you put me through My heart's in despair I'm already there I can't stand what you put me through

Mountains are broken to year,s Nippin' at my heels Rippin' at my seams, How do I feel Can we just wait and see, You be you and I'm me You be true and I'll see If it gets me through

He still didn’t look at you as he moved into his last refrain of the song. You could feel yourself tearing up, only now fully understanding what the breakup had been like for him… the breakup that he never wanted in the first place.

Love isn't fair But I'm already there I can't stand what you put me through My heart's in despair But I'm already there I can't stand what you put me through Love isn't fair But I'm already there I can't stand what you put me through My heart's in despair But I'm already there I can't stand what you put me through

You watched him intently, as he finished his song. It wasn’t until he was done that he even looked up at you, blue eyes finding your own.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “it’s just how I was feeling at the time.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you choked back tears that you felt coming on, “That’s a great song… I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Instead of finishing your sentence, you got up from the chair and moved toward him. He placed the guitar aside as you reached him, and you leaned down as you took his face in your hands. “I love you so much, and I’m so sorry I did that to you.”

“I know,” he replied, moving his hands to your waist, “I really don’t blame you for anything anymore. At the time, I just didn’t understand.” You leaned in further, taking his lips with yours, making sure to show him that you were sorry. You kissed him steadily, as your fingers traced along his jawline. He kissed you back, sighing into your lips when he realized that you weren’t angry by the song, just understanding. You pulled away from the kiss, straightening yourself as Rob wrapped his arms around your waist again; this time, resting his head against your stomach. You ran your fingers through his hair as the two of you just stayed that way in silence for a moment.

“I don’t think either of us understood much,” you replied.

“Maybe we’ve still got a lot to learn.” Rob let go of your waist and looked up at you, a hopeful grin crossing his face.

You thought about his statement, and he was right. Despite each of you thinking that you were doing things in the best interest of the other, it had been a rough road for the two of you. Looking back, you knew that most of this mess could have been easily avoided had you just talked to each other. It was all, in large part, your own mistakes. You had never had a healthy relationship before. You honestly didn’t know how to behave. You had spent so much time learning to just survive, you never learned how to actually be partners with someone. Throughout everything that you and Rob had went through, you knew that you wanted to try with him. You wanted to learn how to be with someone who loved you as much as you loved them. You wanted to give this a shot. You were ready to learn how to be happy with him. And most importantly, you were ready to face parenthood with this man, despite how afraid you were.

“Well,” you began, “we’ve got just over six months to learn all we can about each other. After that, we’ll have a baby who’s going to take up all our time.”

Rob chuckled at your words, “That’s so wild, I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“Are you scared?” The words fell from your lips. You had to ask, feeling like you needed to hear him say that he was as scared as you were.

“Sure, of course I am,” you felt a little better knowing that you weren’t alone. “But, I’m also really excited. Like, all of my friends have kids… and they’re so great. I’ve always wanted a family, it just didn’t happen in the past.”

“Speaking of your friends,” you cut in, still curious as to who knew about your situation, “do they know what’s going on.”

“I think most of them know that we are back together. Aside from Rich, no one knows about this yet,” he said, referring to the pregnancy.

“When do we tell them?” You wondered out loud.

“I don’t know, I figured… the next con, that way I could just tell them all at once.”

You took a deep breath as you realized how quickly this was all becoming so real. Soon, everyone would know, and you could only hope that they would be as accepting of this as they had been of the idea of you and Rob in the first place.

Tag List: @tas898, @wolfyangel-is-a-pluviophile, @narisjournal-blog, @dont-hate-relate-pls, @waywardswain, @nerdyforyourbooks, @perksofbeingafangirl26, @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll, @pepperwoodatnight, @idk-fandom, @please-stop-killing-dean, @b-northington, @sclerafantrash, @itsilvermorny, @jannalionheart, @feelmyroarrrr, @capital-eyyyy-ohhh, @prlncess-nuala, @nekodresden85, @thebookisbtr, @internationalfandomgirl, @smoothdogsgirl, @chantelle-c333. @emilywells19 @laffytaffyhumor @lucifersxvessel @thefelinemedia78 @onlyanothersocialcasualty @typicalweirdbookworm @littleshone @a-queen-and-her-throne @fandooomqueenforyou @spnackleholicswainer @omgitss0y @girl-next-door-writes @destielschild @fangirl1855 @your-not-invisible-to-me

#ready steady #rob benedict fanfiction #rob benedict x reader

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artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Of oil paints, monologues, and 36 questions (2/3) - Sashea - Silver

A/N: part 2! This is quite long (6.5k) but I hope you enjoy it! I’d just like to say thank you so much for the lovely feed back on part 1! It’s much appreciated ♡

Part 1 can be found here

Dust settled. The sun rose to its hazy pinnacle, birds chirping, perched on windowsills and balconies. Curtains were pulled open, untarnished beams of sun intruding through the glass windows of the room, illuminating the once dark abyss of fantasy and surrealism. Sounds of harps and ukuleles had disappeared from the speaker, a morning radio show having taken its place. The cheery voice of the anchors fled to ears, grounding them.

The room smelt like a dangerous mix of popcorn and smoke; neither a pleasant scent. Specs of ash were littered across surfaces, lifting and swirling in to light breezes that flew in through the ajar window.

Shea blinked away the sleep from her eyes, the space on the couch next to her dented and warm, yet void of any presence. She squinted her eyes, adjusting her barely awake orbs to the astonishing daylight. Raising her gaze, acknowledging Katya pottering around the minute kitchen area, she sat up straight. Stretching the tense muscles of her back and elongating her arms towards the ceiling, knuckles clicking and bones cracking satisfyingly, she stood.

Her feet were clothed in comfortable fluffy bed socks, which made the walk to join Katya bearable. Kind of. The frigid coldness of the hard wood made her shiver as she walked, environment having yet to heat up sufficiently, irregardless of the summer weather outside.

Trixie was sat on a bar stool near to Katya. Her hair was wet as she ran a brush through it, untangling any knots delicately. Smiling lightly up towards Shea as she approached, Trixie began braiding her hair loosely.

“Morning sunshine”. Sang Trixie, the high pitched noise making Shea shiver slightly. Lifting herself to perch on the counter top, Shea rubbed at her eyes, remnants of mascara nearing her cheekbones and glittery eyeshadow transferring on to her fingertips.

“M'morning”. She grumbled in response, garnering Katya’s attention. The dark blonde skipped over, her mood unreasonably - uncharacteristically - cheery for such an hour of the day. Eight in the morning, her watch told her. It was an hour that Shea hadn’t greeted in weeks. Stuck in a cyclonic routine of drifting off into a turbulent sleep at well past midnight, and rising more than halfway in to the average persons typical day. She shook her head. Maybe I’ll get to class today, instead of only turning up to rehearsals, she mused. It could happen.

“You look rough”. Trixie deadpanned, Shea smiling gratefully when Katya thrust a plate of toast in to her hands and mumbling a low eat, bitch. Scoffing, Shea pointed vaguely towards Trixie’s dishevelled morning appearance.

“Take a look in the mirror, Trix-”. Retorted Shea, focus travelling around the room. It seemed emptier, somehow, the small amount of clutter that had gathered doing little to compensate for the feeling. “-I feel fine, shockingly, I had a decent sleep”. She finished, biting in to the warm toast, melted butter glossing over her lips.

“See, that couch isn’t as bad as everybody says it is”. Gloated Katya, sipping from a glass of orange juice in one hand whilst smoking a freshly lit cigarette in the other, sun creating a halo around her head of dishevelled hair.

“Oh no, it’s definitely bad, my back feels like I’ve slept on a bed of nails for years-”. A line appeared between her eyebrows, frowning at the ache still apparent in her spine. “-plus we have dance rehearsals tonight, I feel like I might die”. Exaggeration. Trixie giggled.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t remind me about that, I didn’t get much sleep last night and-”. Trixie paused, words halted by Katya’s hand flailing against her shoulder. Shaking her head, albeit to herself, Shea set her plate down on the counter top next to her, body still asleep.

“I don’t want to know what the both of you got up to, thanks”. Shea’s voice dripped with sarcasm, eyebrows waggling knowingly. Katya groaned and Trixie cackled, leaving Shea none the wiser about the dynamic of their relationship. Always strange.

“You really don’t-”. Elaborated Katya, eyes darting between Shea and Trixie. “-never mind us, what did you and Sasha get up to last night? You were both out cold when I came in at like - midnight”. The corners of Shea’s mouth twitched, smile threatening to break out. She quelled it immediately.

Sasha.

“We just talked”. Shea exhaled nonchalantly, tilting her head backwards, hand rising to rub at her neck soothingly. Katya sniggered, eyes rolling and short fingernails tapping irritatingly across the kitchen surface.

“Because talking normally leads to cuddling?”. Katya grinned, pride streaking across her face as she realised she had cracked Shea’s façade. The dark haired girl squeezed her eyes shut, before flickering them towards Trixie. Help, she pleaded silently, eyes hopeful. Shrugging her shoulders, Trixie mouthed a sincere sorry, dismounting the bar stool and making her way to the coat rack where she’d left her floral patterned pink jacket; an item of clothing that was Trixie embodied.

Sasha.

“Where is she, anyway? Did she leave?”. Shea pondered, question directed towards Trixie. The blonde shrugged her shoulders, tossing Shea’s shoes to her. Shea smiled gratefully, Trixie’s organised instincts a welcome addition to her drowsy thoughts. She busied herself with twiddling her thumbs.

“She has class at nine, so she left early enough to go back to her place and get ready-”. Katya intervened, reaching in to the pocket of her pants and retrieving a folded up square of paper. “-she did leave you her number, though”. Winked Katya, a teasing grin becoming a permanent fixture on her features.

“Yeah, she did, that’s great-”. Dismissed Trixie, although not without a piercing look that told Shea it - Sasha - wasn’t a topic that would be that easily avoided. Ushering Shea to pull her shoes on in addition to her jacket, Trixie signalled to the clock on the wall opposite. “-but if we don’t leave soon then we’ll be late for class too”. Trixie threw her bag over her shoulder, giving herself a once over in the mirror.

Admittedly, she didn’t look great, wearing the same outfit that she’d arrived in the day previously, and with her hair in damp braids. Shea looked worse, granted, makeup dissolving and wavy hair dropping. Both were thankful that their own dorms were only a ten minute walk away.

“This morning is just music theory, right?”. Shea attempted to recall her schedule, weeks of having avoided all classes and commitments leaving a void in her mind, in her recollections. Slipping her feet out of her furry bed socks and in to her shoes, she felt the muscles in her lower back spasm and seize. Trixie gave a slow nod, observing the pain circulating throughout Shea’s being.

“Will you be alright for practice tonight?”. Trixie’s words were tentative, cautiously optimistic. The prominent frown on Shea’s face diminished, a convincing tight lipped smile taking its place.

“I’ll be fine, I’ve just slept awkwardly, don’t worry about it girl”. Shea discarded quickly, diverting Trixie’s attention away from the possibility of not being able to practice as efficiently as possible. Eyeing the other girl suspiciously, Trixie gave in, allowing Shea to finish preparing herself to leave whilst she walked elegantly back over to Katya’s side.

“Call me later?-”. Trixie breathed quietly, Shea just out of earshot, intending for only Katya to hear her low octave words. Katya smiled timidly, teeth tugging at the corner of her swollen bottom lip. “-please?”. She emphasised, arms slinking securely around Katya’s waist, pulling her in closer.

“I’ll call you-”. Hummed the shorter girl, flicking her eyes across Trixie’s shoulder in order to observe Shea, who had pulled on her jacket and thrown her hair in to a loose high bun. “-make sure you give this to Shea though, I know she’s already behind schedule with finding a costume, and Sasha’s amazing at what she does”. Katya slipped the folded up piece of paper delicately in to Trixie’s hand, the girls pink manicured fingers closing tightly around it.

“You’re the best”. Murmured Trixie, eyes sparkling. Placing a fleeting kiss to the corner of Katya’s parted lips, she pulled away from the embrace, Shea’s mocking faux gagging noises on the other side of the room leaving her to roll her eyes. Sauntering over towards the door, Trixie beckoned Shea who followed quickly, mouth gaping and eyes watering as she yawned.

“Bye ladies”. Katya called jokingly, waving both Shea and Trixie away from the arch of her doorway, the extravagant hallway in front of her gleaming with sunlight. Shea gave a halfhearted wave in return, already rounding the corner to the staircase, whereas Trixie blew a dainty kiss, her pupils dilating.

“Could you be anymore disgustingly into her?”. Shea teased, platform shoes clicking on the concrete steps as she descended them, high ceilings floating above and Trixie to her right in her salmon pink ballet pumps. A saturated blush flew to Trixie’s makeup free cheeks, flaming embarrassingly. The artificial blonde shook her head.

“I’d kill you right here, right now-”. Trixie held up an accusatory index finger, pointing at Shea with a flush of denial. Shea shrugged her shoulders noncommittally, leading Trixie to huff and groan in frustration. “-but we have a class to get ready for”. Trixie dropped her gaze to the floor, eyes travelling across the pathway that her feet met as she exited the dormitory building.

Shea grinned, shifting Trixie’s attitude aside in her mind. She felt light, weightless, carefree and unrestrained. It had begun to warm up outside, breeze atmospheric and the summer sun drying the dewy grass and making the trees glow, leaving flowers blooming and bumble bees navigating their ways gracefully around them.

Her jacket felt too heavy, though she knew if she removed it that her shirt underneath would be too thin, the woven navy fabric an undoubtably questionable choice. She felt tall in her platformed shoes, taller than Trixie and yet, the grandeur and elevation of the buildings, structures and skyscrapers alike around her had her feeling akin to nothing. Like a molecule of water being dropped into the ocean, a spec of dust in a derelict attic.

Shea mused herself with the similes that she conjured up in her mind, contentment running through her veins and bloodstream. Trixie’s face had softened next to her, eyes flickering as she prepared to start up a conversation that Shea knew Trixie had been planning since they left Katya’s dorm. Inevitably.

Eyes moving toward the clouds above, Shea acknowledged that for once, a rare occurrence, she didn’t have any qualms about listening to Trixie’s ramblings. Happiness, maybe.

Talking about Sasha didn’t seem like it could be a bad thing.

*****

Tamborine and acoustic guitar music played from the speaker in the background, the tinny sound permeating eardrums and relaxing subconsciouses. Air grew thicker and darker as flames roared and burnt out, leaving behind enlightenment. The plush couch felt like a boat, floating on a tepid Mediterranean Sea, waves not crashing or shaking, but flowing seamlessly. Relaxingly.

Sasha traced her finger along the edge of her phone haphazardly, the bright screen irritating her sensitive eyes. She turned down the intensity. Shea swivelled to face her further, crossing her legs underneath her body and pulling a grey pillow from the floor in order to nestle it close to her chest. Sasha smiled, hesitation apparent on her face.

“Ready?”. Questioned Shea, her gaze intense. Sasha responded only with a singular nod of her head. “Yeah - there’s three sets so-”. Sasha drawled, the blunt in the hand that wasn’t holding her phone and Shea’s intense glare already too much. “-question one, given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?”. She finished, her words stuttering.

“Probably Naomi Campbell, her confidence amazes me, you?”. Answered Shea, without missing a beat. Sasha’s forehead creased, observing in confusion. “Maybe Judith Butler, or Van Gogh, he’s a huge inspiration for my art. Two, Would you like to be famous? In what way?”. She continued, irregardless of the psychedelic glimmers in her eyes that she couldn’t decipher; wether they were cause by the drug or the person. Shea. “I think I would, I’d love to be on broadway at some point in my life”. Shea smiled shyly at the thought, a significant juxtaposition to her earlier demeanour. Her passion a weakness in her own eyes. “Same here, only for my art and not acting and singing. That’s something I’ll never be able to do. Next, Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?”. Joked Sasha, before asking the next question.

“Not really, I tend to just go with the flow. That goes for most things”. Vagueness. Sasha arched an eyebrow. Shea said nothing. “I definitely rehearse, phone calls are my nightmare. Four, What would constitute a “perfect” day for you?”. The Russian confessed, reading out the fourth question with bleary eyes.

“Right now? I’d like to spend a day just in bed, being the laziest I can. Maybe order a pizza. How about you?”. Shea chuckled to herself. I need a day off, she mused.

“Visiting art galleries and museums, it never gets old for me”. Sasha recalled the numerous days she’d spent trailing around New York visiting every gallery and museum in sight, spending hours fixated on unique artistic creations. Getting lost in centuries past and the many yet to come.

“What’s the next one?”. Shea dragged her back to the present. Shaking her head to herself, Sasha handed the joint over to the other girl. Too much. Shea grinned, though she thought the same.

“When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?”. Sasha squeaked out. “Myself, this morning. Somebody else? A few hours ago; theatre”. An obvious answer from a musical theatre student. Sasha chuckled. “I don’t really sing, like ever. The next one is, If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?”. Admiring the thought out question, Sasha mulled over her opinion whilst Shea projected her thoughts.

“Body, call me shallow, call me uneducated, but I like my body. You’d probably say mind, right?”. Confidence; again. Sasha was still attempting to work out wether she admired it or envied it. Both, she acknowledged. Both. Possibly.

“Yeah-”. The blonde wasn’t shocked that Shea had guessed correctly. Neither was Shea. “-seven is, Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?”. Shea shivered as she contemplated. Sasha didn’t blink, The thought having crossed the roads in her mind repeatedly.

“Peacefully, I think. In my sleep. Nothing exciting, nothing noteworthy”.

“I feel the same”. Both wished they could say differently. Wished that they could die under the remembrance of millions. Notable, even if the idea itself was more disturbing than they cared to admit. *****

Trixie’s smirk refused to leave her face as she turned towards Shea, barely a minute in to their walk to the block where both of their dormitories were located. It spoke volumes, volumes that Shea longed to turn down, to mute. Shea’s back ached with every step she took, with shoulders clicking and neck tensing, she began loathing Katya’s couch. Trixie seemed unbothered, drifting along in the breeze of the morning. Shea wished she could say that she felt the same, but she never liked lying.

“So, start talking”. Prompted Trixie, eyes locking with Shea’s and gleaming as if she knew. As if she knew every individual thought circulating and reverberating around Shea’s chaotic mind, like they were visible on her skin. Tattooed in midnight black ink across her hands and her face. Printed across her clothing in luminescent, vibrant colours.

“What do you expect me to say?”. Sighed Shea, pupils wide. Tossing her braids over her shoulders, Trixie focused all of her attention on the other girl. Her face switched from teasing to serious within milliseconds, priorities shifted and approach softened. Reaching out, Trixie placed a tentative, comforting hand on Shea’s forearm.

“Look, I know you’ve had a tough time lately, I get it. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel able to it’s just-”. The light blonde girl halted, words getting lost in the air, stuck in her throat and refusing to leave her voice box. Shea blinked, eyes threatening to well up. “-I feel like Katya had a point when she said just talking doesn’t normally lead to cuddling. I wouldn’t blame you if you did do anything with her I-”.

Shea groaned, pulling her jacket closer to her body. Armour. Protection, irregardless of the beads of sweat beginning to form on her forehead due to the humidity. The shorter girls eyebrows furrowed, confusion evident upon her face.

“We didn’t do anything, I swear. I’m not lying when I say we just talked about stuff-”. Shea sniffed, tears brimming around her deep chestnut, lilac glitter lidded eyes. “God, it was so stupid and-”. Shea hiccuped. Trixie’s face blazed with sympathy and empathy as she linked her arm with Shea’s, pulling the girl closer as they walked. Shea averted her gaze, keeping it trained on the ground.

“Please talk to me, you idiot. I don’t want my best friend feeling like shit all of the time, it’s not healthy, at all”. Soothed Trixie, voice light and words calm. Shea’s eyelids drooped, though Trixie’s words blasted a wave of refreshment over her subconscious. She smiled knowingly, gratefully, nodding in agreement.

“I know I haven’t been myself lately, and I so appreciate you being there for me. I’m working on it, I really am. Last night kind of just - fucked me up”. Reasoned Shea, beams of light blinding her sight and cobbled pathway beneath her feet pressing into the platforms of her shoes. Trixie simpered, humming her acknowledgment.

“In what way?”. Trixie trod gently, hesitantly questioning the dark haired girl.

Uncertainty.

“It started as a joke, a way to get to know each other, seeing as you and Katya abandoned us-”. Shea laughed, the sound bitter. Trixie mumbled a meaningful I’m sorry, though Shea shrugged. She was unbothered. “-we did the 36 questions thing, and oh my god - Trix I told her stuff I’ve never told you, never told anybody, and - she listened, she listened to every word I had to say and had the most thought through, perfect response to everything. Yes, I was off my face, I was off my entire god damn existence, but I felt safe. I felt so safe”.

*****

“Eight?”. Shea prompted, steering the conversation away from the previously solemn question answered. “Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common”. Sasha read aloud, pitch of her voice unstable and brow slightly dented. Shea snorted, the question amusing her. “Physically, were polar opposites so - artistic ways? Maybe? Friends, I guess you could say, and, I don’t know-”. Shea’s mind ran blank, with her limited knowledge of Sasha, she didn’t know. She did not know.

“I can’t think of anything else. I guess you could say denim shorts? But that would be pushing the question to its limit”. Sasha joked, sarcasm attached to her words, weaved in between sentences. Shea hummed in agreement, the question almost boring her. “Let’s move on to nine”. Dismissed Shea, smoke trailing from her lips, clouds forming the in the thick air around them. Sasha scrutinised her phone closely, lack of contact lenses or glasses in addition to the haziness of her being making her vision more blurred than she would have liked.

“For what in your life do you feel most grateful? Friends and I guess family for me, definitely, without a doubt”. Sasha answered immediately after she had closed the question, memories of a peaceful, happy childhood diffusing around her. “I’d have to agree, though also opportunities”. Added Shea, unable to fault Sasha’s foregone answer. Unarguable, she noted.

“If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?”. The blondes tone lowered towards the end of her sentence, a question of how to answer and what to answer with flowing freely around her conscience. “These are getting intense-”. Shea paused to chuckle, though her own answer was prepared; balancing on the tip of her tongue. “-I think I would’ve liked to have grown up here, and not in Chicago”. She concluded, fingers running seamlessly through the front strands of her hair.

“You grew up in Chicago?”. Squeaked Sasha, surprise clear and evident in both her startled facial expression and tone of voice.

“Mhm”. Shea inhaled what she told herself would be the last from the joint. No more, she convinced her lungs that wanted - needed - to inhale more of the toxic paradise. She passed the joint over to Sasha, their fingers brushing. Sasha’s calloused from the years of painting and Shea’s smooth. Contrasting. “That’s crazy, I did too-”. Confessed the blue eyed girl, accepting the joint with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. Preparation. Honesty. “-I probably would’ve wanted a better relationship with my father. We don’t speak, at all. Moving on, Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible”. Sasha glossed over her own response, aware that this thing, whatever they had chosen to do, involved honesty, yet unable to demolish and bury the wall she had constructed around herself.

“My god, ok, do you have a timer on your phone?”. Shea queried, four minutes seemingly an eternity in that moment. Forever. Too long. Too much to say.

“Four minutes are set, go for it”. Sasha breathed, settling her side against the back of the couch relaxedly. Eyes almost slipping closed, Shea’s velvety voice filling her ears, she kept breathing in. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Shea started.

“I was born on February the 8th, making me an Aquarius, to honestly the best parents I could have asked for. My moms worked in theatre all of her life, so I guess that’s where I get that from-”. Shea spoke slowly and laughed jokingly, eyes flickering to the phone in Sasha’s hand; four minutes remaining. Sasha’s eyes were closed, though she let out vague noises of understanding when she felt they were appropriate. Don’t interfere, she told herself. Keep to yourself.

“-My dad is a business man, way too serious for me, and I have two younger siblings - one brother one sister. They’re amazing, both are still in high school. Oh!, school - pretty basic, elementary school was a bit strange, being the only black girl in your class can be a learning curve, but from there middle school and high school were great-”. Rambling. Slowly, Shea gathered pace, facts about herself, her life, and her childhood reeling out and in to the world, in to Sasha’s head. The blonde had loosened the grip on her phone, moving it to rest on the couch in front of her, between herself and Shea; one minute remaining. She proceeded.

“-I moved here at eighteen because I got a scholarship for the college in musical theatre, and I think it’s the best decision I’ve ever made. In terms of myself? I live for the colour purple, the actual colour, not the book. I-”. Chuckling to her own unintentional pun, Shea enthralled herself in the way Sasha’s cheeks puckered as she grinned, seemingly faultless teeth gleaming back at her, dimples arisen. The phone vibrated. End.

“Times up”. Sasha sighed, eyes flickering open, the dimness of the candlelit room seeming too bright for her orbs. She wanted to close them again. To close them and have Shea’s melodic voice permeate her ear drums and infiltrate her thoughts. Sasha wanted to hear her sing. She’d sound good, she knew that.

“That went a lot quicker than I thought it would. You go next”. Shea brushed off, embarrassment tugging at her furrowing forehead. Sasha listened. She liked that. The girl opposite her nodded, resetting the timer on her phone. Four minutes.

“Right - seeing as you started with start sign, I’m a Cancer, my birthday is June 25th. I was actually born in Russia, yes I’m Russian, in this tiny village just outside of St Petersburg-”. Sasha halted, Shea’s mouth agape. Russian, Shea mused to herself. Russian. The slight twang that lingered in Sasha’s accent unnoticeable until brought to attention. Shea enjoyed how it sounded like a blanket of warmth. The phone read two and half minutes remaining. Shea wanted more time to listen, to wrap herself up in Sasha uninhibited speech. She hugged the cushion closer to her chest.

“-I moved to Chicago when I was 8 with my mom and my father, but they got divorced a couple years later. My mom passed away when I was 17 and I don’t speak to my father because he doesn’t really approve? Of me?, But that’s for another day I guess-”. Sasha’s eyes saddened, glimmer disappearing and replacing itself with something that Shea couldn’t pin point. Something akin to disappointment; regret. She persevered promptly, ignoring Shea’s hand that outstretched and came to rest on her knee, thumb brushing comfortingly across the expanse of her paint splattered skin. Thirty seconds.

“-I was always artistic, but my mom really pushed me in to academics. It wasn’t until I started thinking about colleges that I really started taking art seriously. I moved here at eighteen, too, and from there I’ve just kind of-”. The buzz of the vibration ended Sasha’s sentence, Shea’s hand leaving with the sacredness of the four shared minutes.

“Time”. Called the dark haired girl, face reading intrigue. Interest.

“That does go quicker than you expect it to. Next one is, If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?”. Sasha sprinted over to the next question, eager to hear Shea’s answer, to hear her voice. To know more about her.

“I’d love to be able to fly. I can’t drive so it would be a great help”. Shea’s lighthearted tone returned, Sasha’s grin joining. Shea allowed the corners of her mouth to upturn, too, teeth biting at her plump bottom lip. Shea liked it when Sasha smiled. She wanted to make her smile more.

“It’s a bit juvenile but I’d like to be able to dance”. Confessed Sasha, blush rising to her fair cheeks, eyes meeting Shea’s sporadically before flickering away to stare at the glowing embers between her fingertips. Sasha was glad not to be sober.

“Anybody can dance. End of set one?”. Shea spoke with a confidence that was undeniable, the same confidence that she had owned when they had began the set of questions. Sasha admitted to herself that she liked that, too.

“End of set one”. *****

“So basically, me and Katya getting the both of you to meet so that Sasha could help you with your costume, ended in-”. Trixie halted, Shea’s rapid shake of her head cutting off her words.

“I have no idea. Something”. Sighed Shea, clinging on to Trixie’s arm that remained linked with hers supportively. Trixie understood Shea’s apprehension, how she seemed certain and yet unsure. Positive but tentative. Trixie pondered the question nagging at her tongue. She paused before continuing.

“-how did you end up-”. Trixie’s words drifted off, although Shea knew what she was insinuating. How did you end up so close and how did you fall asleep together. How did you end up in the warmth of each other’s arms even in the summer heart.

How did it all happen, unfold, becoming something under the influence of the burning wand of intoxication before it could even begin to exist as anything.

*****

“I’ll do the last set if you want?”. Sasha almost whispered her words, feeling if she spoke at her usual volume she would break the serene atmosphere around them.

Shea blinked slowly, nodding her head as Sasha’s words resonated. Passing over the phone so that it sat once again in Sasha’s grasp, Shea allowed their hands to brush for longer than she had previous. Their eyes remained locked, the rough tips of Sasha’s painted ladened fingers a contrast to Shea’s manicured ones.

“Yeah, that’ll be great”. Gulped Shea, Sasha so close to her than she swore she could feel every breath Sasha took hitting her face. Smoke would occasionally blow into her eyes, burning, causing them to puff and become bleary, watering.

“I don’t think I’m too keen on these type of questions either, Make three true ‘we’ statements each. For instance, ‘We are both in this room feeling…’”. Sasha trailed off, balancing the joint precariously between her lips, ash falling on to her legs every so often as she moved, burning just a little; noticeably.

“Could they not have been more inventive with these?”. Shea scoffed, tone cracking and eyes rolling. “You’re telling me”. Quipped Sasha, remaining silent and waiting for Shea to begin. She had a quizzical aura surrounding her, thoughts of why and I don’t know and how.

“We’re both high. Is that too obvious?”. Shea’s mind ran a blank, her thoughts empty with the exemption of right now. Of Sasha. The way she smelt like a combination of musky perfume, smoke, and a faint aroma of chemically paint, and the way her crystalline dagger eyes seemed incapable of dishonesty and deception.

“No, it’s true. We’re both doing this ‘experiment’ right now”. Sasha laughed, the response seemingly too obvious and too predictable; much like Shea’s, she observed. Candles flickered across the room as a gale breezed inward.

“We’re both female?”. Labels, they both recoiled. Labels brought a sense of confinement and restriction, conformity and the typical normality. Sasha nodded, though shook her head seconds later.

“Gender is a construct-”. She laughed at herself, Shea seeming taken aback. “-we both attend the same college”. Sasha thought she had finally discovered a legitimate answer, reading over the following questions quietly in her head whilst she waited for Shea to answer, the girls eyes crossing in concentration as she furrowed her sculpted eyebrows. Sasha found herself admiring the artistry. Eyebrows could be artistry.

“We both - girl help me out, I can’t think of any”. She whined eventually, eyes pleading with Sasha’s. “We both have really great eyebrows”. Sasha’s thoughts became words, projections. Shea’s grin widening and slightly crooked yet pearly white reflective teeth pressing against her lips. “You’re not wrong there. We both have the same bracelet”. Shea’s gaze focused on Sasha’s hand that had reached out to hand over the joint to her, barely less than half of it remaining. A delicate pastel rainbow; peach, lavender, mint, candy floss, aqua, sky. Colours interweaved forming a braid of pride and support. Sasha’s eyes gleamed as they watched Shea lift her own wrist, the large circle barely hanging on to her thin, agile bones.

“I didn’t even notice that”. Mumbled the blonde girl, rainbow illuminating the dark clouds. Unexpected and yet, welcomed. She reached out to touch, the identical bracelet adorning Shea’s wrist more worn, more weathered than her own, signs of living. “I only just noticed myself”. Shea moved her arm nearer to Sasha, resting it eventually on her knee, Sasha’s warm touch a simultaneously strange and pleasant sensation. “Twenty six is - ten left - Complete this sentence: 'I wish I had someone with whom I could share…’”. Sasha advanced, leaving go of the bracelet on Shea’s wrist. Shea neglected to move her hand, instead throwing the cushion that she was holding to the side and shuffling closer to the smiling girl, shoulders pressing against each others.

“I wish I had someone with whom I could share, my love of theme parks. Nobody ever wants to go with me, people are always scared of rollercoasters and everything else fun in life”. Shea kept her answer lighthearted, fun, airy and teasing. Everything else fun in life. Sasha agreed. She’d go to a theme park with Shea, have fun with her. Sasha hummed in agreement, flecks of light casting the shadows of her eyelashes across her high cheekbones.

“I wish I had someone with whom I could share my studio with. It gets really tiresome when you’re there all day everyday with only your paints for company-”. Sasha drew on her memories from the morning prior. Company would have been appreciated, greatly, during her landscape painting process. “-Next, If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know”.

“I’m a really annoying drunk”. Shea blurted, overly self aware and familiar with her drunken, inebriated misadventures. Sasha laughed, pictures of an even more intoxicated Shea flashing through her mind at lightening speed. Like a storm hitting waves in the ocean.

“I don’t drink, I can’t relate with you on that one. Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met”. Both were unprepared. Honesty was a virtue of morality they believed in wholeheartedly, but exercising it was undeniably different. Almost like the act of swimming compared to telling somebody how to swim. Riding a bike versus watching somebody else ride a bike.

Shea inhaled.

“I like how you seem unashamed of being completely authentically you. I like how you knew you’d be meeting somebody new that might by judgemental yet you turned up covered in paint anyway. I like that you’re serious without being afraid of letting yourself be funny sometimes. I really like your eyes too, they’re pretty. They’re blue without being blue, y'know? Almost grey”.

Sasha exhaled.

“They get lighter in the summer, it’s weird. I like how upfront you are. You don’t come across as if you’d ever be worried of rejection or being let down by people. I like that you’re family orientated, shows you have a good heart. I also really like your shirt and I’m 'gonna need to know where you got it from”.

“Thrift store”. Both smiled.

*****

Trixie blinked.

Shea said nothing.

Understanding.

Continuation.

*****

“Final question. Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how they might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen”. Shea extinguished the burnt out joint in the empty candle holder that they had been using for the entirety of the night. Specks of ash floating to the heavens as the embers dimmed, Sasha’s light smile that remained present on her face glowing enough to replace it. “How personal are we talking?”. Shea slouched further, head mere inches away from Sasha’s. “As personal as you 'wanna get”. Both of their breaths smelt like stale smoke. Unpleasant but unnoticeable in their close proximity, sharing the same air and embracing the same moment. Shea knew what she’d share. If she was doing this properly, if she was doing this right, then she knew immediately. She’d discussed it with Trixie, once, the pink loving girl telling her do it. They love you. They’re supportive. Do it.

Shea had dismissed her, unconvinced.

“Ok, so - you know I’m close with my family, but I don’t tell them everything, not by a long shot. I’ve been thinking of telling them, of coming out to them for years, but I’ve never had the nerve to do it. I sat them down a few months ago and tried telling them but I backed out and-”.

Shea’s breathing was deep, heavy, getting caught in her throat as streams of tears threatened to spill from her glassy eyes. Sasha panicked, consoling far from being her forte. She leant over regardless, tentative arms pulling Shea in softly. Gently. Wrapping her in warmth and comfort.

Her arms were strong, but the way they encased Shea’s seemingly fragile shaking being was far from it. Sweetly, sensitively.

“Shh, calm down, it’s ok, I get it. If your family are as loving and caring, and as devoted to you, their daughter, as they seem, then you have nothing to worry about. They’ll get it, Shea. People get it. They’ll get it”. Words came relatively easy to the blonde girl, recollections of what she’d wished for somebody to tell her years back when she’d been too far stuck in her own head, situation unreadable. “I know you’re right about that, friends have been telling me the same forever. It’s just one of those things. What about you, hm?”. Shea dismissed Sasha, too, albeit no where near as quickly as she did with Trixie. It was progress, maybe.

“Mines nowhere near as serious as yours, but I’ve been thinking for a while about getting a nose job. It’s something I’ve never like about myself, an now that I have enough savings to do it, I’m tempted”.

Sasha’s attempt to flip the tone of the conversation, the vibe, proved futile when Shea’s response was everything she didn’t know that she needed in that instance. It was reassurance and complimentary words, combined with an attitude that told her not to care or consider what anybody thought about her physical appearance, or her personality; essentially. Shea smiled unabashedly, touching her finger to Sasha’s button nose.

“Your nose is pretty. It’s you, I like it. But again, you really have to do what makes you happy in your life. If a new nose would do that, then by all means, do it for you. But don’t do it for anybody whose ever commented badly on it. Do it for you. Plus, contouring works like a dream. Try that before any serious commitments”.

Sasha cackled loudly. Humour. She liked it. She liked it all.

*****

Trixie reached into her jacket pocket, pulling out the folded up piece of paper that Katya had given to her - from Sasha. Handing it to Shea instantly, she smiled encouragingly, reassurance spread across her face. They were nearing their dormitories, approaching the high rise block. Shea had removed her jacket, her overly thin shirt underneath doing little to keep her covered from the light breeze blowing mystically and yet; she felt warm.

“Text her. Call her. I don’t care how you do it, but talk to that girl”.

*****

I think we’ll work amazingly together - text me whenever you’re free darling Sasha ♡ *****

Shea: it’s Shea, I got your note. About that coffee you suggested last night, how does tomorrow sound? xx Sasha: tomorrows great, come to my studio? We can work on your costume the same time xx

Shea: send me the address and I’ll be there xx

#sashea #silver #shea coulee #sasha velour #au #fluff #rpdr fanfiction #submission #of oil paints #college au #lesbian au #s9

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