#3 point perspective hm?

[mythvoiced]

Aeri can’t decide what she hates more - the way the bejeweled pin in the victor from District 8’s hair is lopsided, or the girl herself. Oh, what Aeri wouldn’t give to wear such an accessory again, or even wear the finery the victor has been gifted to wear to the viewing. That was her once, wasn’t it?

But now? She’s stuck here, watching this spectacle. The brat, who has no idea what privilege she’s been presented with, keeps on creasing the delicate threads of her gown and her stylists also clearly have no idea on how to do the brat’s makeup. And then there’s that damn pin- Aeri’s pin once upon a time- only in place because it’s tangled in there-

And Aeri can’t hold back. When the brat’s stylists are gone, she reaches into the girl’s hair and extracts the pin. Her fingers, callused from years of hard labor that still feels foreign to Aeri, are quick to untangle most of the obvious knots in the brat’s hair before shetwists the locks into a ponytail and then a bun. The pin goes back in.

Aeri glares at the girl through the mirror. Don’t you dare mess up my work.

( congrats lenlen!! you get....aeri, being really resentful, i hope marìa doesn't mind too much ^^' )

@stillresolved | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET HER BE RESENTFUL

---

There's a harshness to being dolled up when you are in no way receptive to it.

María isn't foreign to the roughness of life - she's a fucking Victor, after all, isn't she - she's started working in factories just about around the age even the most moral of District 8 people might turn their back in fear on seeing her walk in, pretending not seeing her would free them of the responsibility of working with a child.

Her hands and nose and palate and lungs had long gotten used and keep getting used to the aftermath of working with chemicals, of being so very intimate with garments and colours, with fumes and heat, with the hard work of surviving, with the hard work of fighting to be allowed a minimal chance at said survival, at figuring that there's little more for people from District 8 to fight for.

Still... it's not the same.

Being pushed around, dressed in things she would have never chosen for herself to serve a people, a man, because she's not stupid enough to not be able to tell what is Capitol and what is Snow and how Capitol is Snow, it's a kind of biting and harsh and rough that doesn't leave behind the usual kind of scars and memories and bruises.

Even surviving the Games had come with a desperately accepted sense of relief, one covered in blood and the humiliation of all she'd done and all she'd thought she'd get to accomplish, only for reality to crash in on her in a victory she hadn't wanted to partake in, hadn't wanted to make possible, when she'd wanted her Games to be victor-less in lieu of ending the Games themselves.

This... this is humiliation in the long run. This has hardly any hope attached to it, waiting for her on the other end of the line. Sometimes, on the worst days, it feels like the true brunt of the battle, walking with blood-stained soles and palms and sparkling as she does, wearing all that might make even the softest source of light appear like flames reflecting off her frame, covering her in fire that had not eaten her alive - much to a few people's disdain.

Picking at things, not holding still, grimacing, shifting her muscles, arms, face to make her stylists' life as difficult as possible, it was all she had to fight back.

The Arena came with death and violence, and living back at home had been physical labour upon physical labour, straining her young body until she could no longer tell if she was broken beyond repair or fitter than children her age should be - had they grown up privileged within the Capitol's safety.

Here she has only threads to tear apart and reflections to glare at.

And a new challenge behind every door.

She feels yanked back, an intensity of motion caused less by the avox suddenly in her hair and more her own stiffness that hadn't prepared her for submission to someone suddenly rearranging her.

After her stylists had left, she'd succumbed to the tension of not wanting to be there, without the added hard work of making sure everybody else does. Lost in her thought, somebody's hands suddenly returning on her had fortified, molten it into a newly forged blade, stiff and ready to strike, tensing everything within her and making a few fingers in her hair turn into a grappling hook tied to a moving mountain.

María is startled enough she can't remember how to glare.

A frown does accompany her widened eyes anyway, making her look... appalled, almost, an addition to her expression so unsuited to typically frightened features, youth tainted by the face of someone used to having to fight to stay alive.

It almost happens in a flash then. The reflection moves and adjusts and fixes and what had started as something that had María's lips split into something acid and trembling, turns into something unpleasant and acrid, but silent, as María sits and lets herself be mandhandled one more time.

That's when she glares. After the avox finishes up, after their eyes meet in the mirror and María sees none of the downturned gazes they're trying to make her accustomed to.

Seeing avoxes pisses her off.

Why take it out on them.

She understands what they are, what they're supposed to represent.

To her, an avox is a statement. No longer a person but rather someone rid of their innate right to be considered one. Even with the determination and life in this avox' eyes, María has come to understand them as tools Snow uses to assert his dominance, people from all circles of life, punished with the robbing of their words... and their detached tongue metaphorically forced to lick away at the tip of the shoes of people like María.

All a scheme.

Infighting.

Use the prey on the prey, make them take each other out.

It'd be easier to feel pity if María could sleep, if the avox hadn't adjusted her appearance, and if the avox wasn't staring her down as if she had any right to do so.

She's oddly beautiful.

She's oddly familiar.

"Why are you helping them?" she hisses, low, whispered, because she might never admit it, but she's... she's a little scared, isn't she? Lately? Devora's face swims before her inner eye, so stern, so wrong.

"I'm on your side more than they are," she adds, pulling a strand of her hair out of the freshly adjusted bun.

#stillresolved #the seeker;maria #the seeker;joan of arc;hunger games verse #CONGRATS INDEED I FEEL LIKE I WON A MAJOR AWARD HERE??? EXCUSE ME???????????????????? MX LISTEN- #EVEN IF MARIA WERE TO MIND I CAN'T FIND IT IN ME TO MIND THAT SHE'D MIND BECAUSE THIS IS MAJORLY EXCITING #NOBODY MOVE NOBODY MOVE NOBODY FRICKING MOVE I NEED TO FOCUS #not gonna lie Aeri's point of view here is so fking good it's so FRESH IT'S SO--- #NOT TO BE HYPER-FOCUSED ON MY DESIRES FOR MARIA'S ARC AND HOW IT DEVELOPS BUT #THIS IS VERY GOOD SGKLSDLFJGHGLKHGFKL sorry I just... #if somebody were to force me to figure out ONE thing to like most about this depresso verse #if i was being held at gunpoint about it basically and forced to pick One Thing #it's gotta be how brilliantly different perspectives come together #Aeri Patrick Devora Taiyang Maria Hyuk LISTEN???? LISTEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #getting an ask from Ferre from their new blog~ i'm holding my cheekies and blushing HEHEHEHEHE~ #also how do you still always win at urls care u lots MWAH ♥ i need to get this into the queue ASAP #gosh it being Aeri's PIN GOSH CAN YOU TELL I'M ALL OVER THE PLACE ABOUT THIS IN ENTHUSIASM #gosh María will simply truly... do the most to assign everyone sides hm? MARIA WHAT ABOUT THE NUANCES-- #i'm not quite sure what you and wonderful Lynnie have established but... if Aeri was well known as Deva's lover #do you think María might have seen her? in pr thingies? that would explain why she's familiar that's why i added that line~ #IF NOT then she's familiar because the look in her eyes would remind her of Deva IT'LL STILL WORK >:3 i went witty >:3333 #;queue

[cowboyhorsegirl]

i'll say it. i think 5x11 has some unforgiving portrayals of ppl w/ psychosis & serious mental illness

#this is NOT a defense of institutional psychiatric facilities #idk. idk. this isn't something i've ever personally dealt w/ so maybe i'm on some shit but. it feels mean #also like the plot of the ep itself. i can imagine how seeing that ep could exacerbate someone's psychosis #but again take all this with a grain of salt. i did like how we got to hear an outsider's perspective on sam & dean's relationship #i liked the way they inadvertently put themselves through some therapy to go undercover for this case #i just feel as though this episode could have focused more on those points of conflict (sam & dean Realizing things about themselves #and how they relate to each other) than having them both 'go crazy' #hm #evwatches #spn #also rip to my wife ellen :( gone but not forgotten </3

[lissomeingenuestuff]

CLARA BOW // charles leclerc - pt. 2

charles leclerc x figureskater!reader

part 1 part 3

summary: you're an aspiring olympic gold medalist who just wants to compete and have fun. on the way there, a handsome monegasque f1 driver slides into your dms and changes the trajectory of your life.

note: so i woke up to part one of this having over 300 notes?? what the heck you guys 😭 thank you so much! here's a speedy part two as a thank you 🙏🏻

capital indoor stadium beijing, china

"Annyeong (Bye), Hana!" Y/N called out, giggling as the little girl waved wildly, struggling against her babysitter who was trying to take her away.

"Bye, Y/N!!!" she yelled back, her English as unsteady and lisping as Y/N's Korean was.

The figure skater shook her head, smiling. Hana could be a handful and a little spoiled, but she really was a joy to be around, and a weight taken off Y/N's shoulders in the face of the upcoming competition. Even though skating with her had taken some of Y/N's precious rest time away, she couldn't help but be happy still. Going back to the Olympic Village early would've only meant that she would agonize over everything that could possibly go wrong tomorrow, and that was the last thing she needed with all of the tenseness and pressure that was already permeating the rink's atmosphere.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Rafael Arutyunyan, one of her coaches asked as she slid over to the barriers.

"Yes," she avoided looking at his face, knowing there would only be disapproval there. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Hm. Well, you know what I think."

"Hana's a sweet kid," Y/N defended, sliding to a stop in front of the rink's entrance.

"I never said she wasn't," Rafael pointed out, handing her her blade guards.

Y/N began putting them on as her coach continued, "Just that this is not the kind of distraction you need the day before the competition."

"It was either this or go to my room and mope. Which would you have rather I'd done?" Pulling her red Team USA jacket on, she continued, "Besides, Adam said it was fine."

"Adam's looking at it from a PR perspective," Rafael rolled his eyes. "You know that."

"It's good for my mindset." Y/N shrugged, ignoring the cameras clicking away from the media journalists by the sideboards. "If it's also good PR, then it can't be all that bad, can it?"

"I just don't want it to affect your performance, come competition day."

Y/N sighed affectionately and pat his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, Raf. If anything's going to hurt my skating, it's not going to be this."

cassievilleneuve

liked by y/n l/n, isabeau.levito, and 3,271 others

cassievilleneuve my companion, my best friend, my soul sister. words can't express how proud i am of you and your accomplishments. we've both wanted to go to the olympics since we were little girls, and i'm so thrilled that you made it there 🥹 know that i'm there with you in spirit, and go kill it out there tomorrow.

love, the wicked witch 🧙🏻‍♀️

view all 16 comments...

y/n l/n there would be no glinda if there weren't an elphaba 💙 ily so so much cass! next time, we'll both be doing it together, i just know it.

karebearsk8 ahhh look what you did cass, you've made her cry 😄

y/n l/n LIES

isabeau.levito so proud of both of you ❤️ ❤️ by y/n l/n

y/n l/n thank you issy 🥰

daniel3.jpg

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 375,187 others

daniel3.jpg caught in 4k 😳

view all 617 comments...

melisasimp how is Charles perfect in all angles😩😭

kimmiegrantxo Thank you for your service, sir 🫡

daphnemller I have been fed 😩

charles_leclerc MATE!?

landonorris he's so pathetic 😄

amyisawag asdfjhskfjd lando??? 😭

carlossainz55 where is the lie

oscarpiastri pathetic AND obsessed

charles_leclerc BLOCKED. all of you BLOCKED.

detectivelana guys guys i think we're focusing on the wrong thing here. charles is fine and all, but what's the common thread through all of these pictures? his phone. what else? his smile. in conclusion, who is charles smiling at on his phone and how do we get the grid to spill?

mellymellmell no no you're so right??

amyisawag @daniel3.jpg

daphnemller @daniel3.jpg

daniel3.jpg sorry, been sworn to secrecy 🤐

#charles leclerc #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 22 — HAND KINK

PAIRING: jeno x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, roommate au, fingering, praising, usage of nicknames.

WC: 0.9k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! here i have soft dom!jeno as requested by my lovee @lunalovesstories! i hope you like it :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“You’re staring, babe.”

His deep, soothing voice was enough to snap you out of your daydream, suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, and well, your eyes which were fixated on his fingers. 

Lee Jeno was your roommate, and it was normal for you guys to sit down and have a chat, or give each other company occasionally, yet you had never been invited to sit down next to him to do what, watch him play video games? 

The offer was sweet, considering you were bored out of your mind and had nothing better to do at the given moment, yet your whole perspective regarding the situation changed when you realized that you’ll be watching Jeno work his fingers on the keyboard to kill off the enemies. 

Now, the idea of staring at someone’s hands must sound creepy per se, however you weren’t at fault or to be blamed for staring when Jeno had such long and slender fingers. You were rendered speechless when you first encountered the said man in a sleeveless tank top, his muscles prominent, which was also the day when you realized just how buff he is. That same day, he helped you carry the groceries inside the apartment—the veins on his arms more prominent than ever. 

The realization of the fact that he had pretty hands only encouraged your mind to get indulged in the most lewd thoughts of him having his fingers buried deep in your cunt. It had you wondering just how heavenly it would feel if he’d let you suck on his fingers, if he’d pinch your nipples for being naughty and staring, if he’d wrap his fingers around your neck in a gentle squeeze. 

Jeno can’t lie, he’s noticed your stare on his hands quite a few times now, yet he hadn’t ever bothered to point it out before, until today that is, mostly because he found it cute how you had completely zoned out while your eyes were still on the keyboard. 

You panicked, wondering if he thought that you were crazy for staring, yet you only found him smiling at you with a gentle gaze, his fingers coming to caress your cheek, your heartbeat rising up at the feeling of his soft thumb pads on your skin. 

“You like them, hm?” He asked, voice deep and soft. 

You found yourself gulping and saying no mindlessly to prevent any more embarrassment, to which he chuckled, “is that so?” 

“Jeno,” you didn’t mean it to come out as a whine but it did, especially when his thumb brushed your lip, your mouth parting open on its own accord, mind fuzzy already. 

He only pulled you closer effortlessly, making you sit on his lap with a gasp, holding your waist and continuing his actions. You couldn’t help it, not when his fingers were resting on your lips, so you simply opened your mouth further, your tongue gliding along his skin before you started sucking on them. 

He looked at you, mesmerized. Firstly because he didn’t expect his roommate to be interested in him. Secondly, because you looked so beautiful just sucking on his fingers, your lips glistening with the saliva. 

“So fucking pretty,” he muttered under his breath, his other hand parting your legs, massaging your inner thighs, which was convenient for him as you had worn a skirt. 

The cool metal of his rings juxtaposed the warmth of your skin, and you fully gave up trying to conceal your moans when he started rubbing your pussy over the panties, setting your mouth free to hear your pretty noises as you hid your face in his neck. 

“Still don’t like it, baby?” He whispered, cupping your cheek with his free hand to make you look up at him. 

“I do,” you breathed out, “I really do,” you confirmed, making him pull you in a sweet kiss, your knees weak with how effortlessly he got rid of your panties before stuffing you full of his fingers, your back arching with the sudden stretch. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re taking it so well,” he praised, pressing butterfly kisses all over your neck, as you held on to his arm for support, squirming and shaking with how good he made you feel, thrusting his fingers and abruptly picking up the pace when you started rolling your hips to meet his two digits, clenching uncontrollably while doing so. 

“Shh, baby. Calm down,” he whispered, pecking the side of your lip when you felt yourself breathing hard, “take a deep breath, yeah?” He kissed you all over your face. 

It felt too good, the unadulterated pleasure which had your nipples hardened, a tear escaping your eyes, which he kissed away, wrapping his arms around you to squeeze and fondle your tits, veins visible on his hands as he did so. 

“Go ahead, princess. Make a mess on my fingers,” he holds you gently, helping you reach your climax, patting your folds softly, pushing the wet fingers in your mouth to clean him up, “that’s my good girl,” he whispered, hugging you close to him which made you smile. 

You couldn’t believe that your roommate had you falling apart on his fingers, and praising you through it all.

All you knew was you didn’t want it to stop, and neither did Jeno because soon, he was picking you up and helping you get on the bed, pulling his T-shirt up and removing it before he got on top of you with a smirk, “are you ready, princess?”

It was going to be a long night. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#🎫 — kinktober! #jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno x reader #kpop smut #nct hard hours #jeno x you #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct jeno #lee jeno

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — TWO

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART TWO: 14,9k words Please read: Part two explores a lot of Aurora's irrational thoughts and it shows how much she struggles to be herself after being married to someone who was emotionally abusive to her. From my perspective, it's a really important chapter to develop the relationship between Aurora and Harry, but I want people to be mindful of its content in case they don't feel comfortable reading about this, or in case it hits too close to them. Feel free to reach out if you want to skip something and you'd like me to fill you in. <3

PART ONE

Despite the line, getting through security would've taken Aurora hardly three minutes. That is, of course, if she hadn't had to wait for Harry for another ten. 

He doesn't look the least apologetic for the held back, though. Nor bothered in the slightest by the extra time he seemingly needed. Smiling at her and holding their shared tray as he tilts his chin to an empty table and leads the way towards it. 

Aurora follows him quietly, checking her watch just to make sure they won't run out of time. And she does it unconsciously, regretting every time she catches herself looking at her wrist. Because she knows they're early. She swears she knows. And she wishes she could relax and just enjoy things without that awful feeling rushing through her body. That feeling that turns into a voice and yells at her that she's constantly behind. 

Behind what, one could ask, and Aurora wouldn't be able to answer.

She's just… Behind. 

Behind, and watching her life go by.

All the damn time.

Harry stops by the table, and Aurora mimics him. She drops her bag and falls on one knee, pulling up the hem of her dress and uncovering her foot. The Nike sneakers she's wearing used to be white once, but now they are just old and dirty, and she loves them even more like this. She nibbles the flesh inside of her bottom lip while tying the shoelaces up, then changes to her other knee, and repeats the process. 

Once she's done, she stands up and pats her legs, getting rid of any airport floor dirt from her clothes. 

"You're fast," Harry says, putting his foot down from the edge of the table. 

Aurora pulls the fabric of her dress up her chest and furrows her brows. "I am?"

"Hm, yeah." He frowns with amusement and chuckles. "You sure are."

"Huh." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down, then quirks the corner of her mouth up. 

Maybe, she should point out that perhaps she isn't fast, but he is too slow. Or that, unlike him, she'd organized everything beforehand so she wouldn't waste any second longer than she absolutely needed to. But what good would that do? Besides, those thoughts don't even feel like hers. They don't sound like hers. 

So she says nothing, instead, and steps closer to where he stands. 

Harry gives the tray they're sharing a gentle push to her side, and puts his other foot up. 

Aurora promptly slides the tray closer to her and places it in front of her belly, next to her bag. 

Great. 

Saying nothing was a bad idea, because silence is awkward now. 

She licks her lips and keeps her attention on their belongings, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Time goes by, though, and the longer she waits, the more awkward it gets. 

So she decides to just say whatever, just to get them talking again. 

"Perks of being a mom, I guess." She blurts out, then grabs their passports and shrugs. "Being fast, I mean." 

Harry leans on his bent knee and looks at her over his shoulder, blindly tying up his own shoes. 

"Yeah? Why's that? You get any super speed powers when you're pregnant or something?"

Aurora freezes for a second, passports still in hand. She turns her head to the side, and narrows her eyes at him.

Harry's soft lips are pursed, his green eyes are twinkling with playfulness, and his cheeks are tinted with a boyish flush under his facial hair. He's clearly having fun with his own silly comment, and it causes Aurora to break into a short laugh — not because it's funny, but because she simply can't help it. 

She shakes her head, and looks back at the tray. 

"I rush to get ready so I can pay attention to Noah, okay?" she explains, grabbing the boarding passes and checking the names on them. She puts hers inside of her passport, and the other inside of Harry's. "It's not a big deal."

She'd never thought about it, but it's the truth — she is usually busy keeping an eye on Noah, even from a distance. The little monster can't stay still for too long, and no matter how much she adores how energetic he is or that she tries her best to let him explore things by himself, the truth is that he's still only four, and she can't leave him wandering around unattended.

Which is why she fought so hard to sign him up for preschool — it gave her time to slow down and do other things, too.

Okay. See? That — that right there — is Aurora's truth. That's a thought that feels and sounds like hers. A thought that she came up with on her own, based on her own experiences and her own mistakes. A thought that reveals how she's learned that taking care of Noah is her responsibility, and that if she doesn't pay attention to her son, nobody does. 

No matter how much she dreamed it would be different.

No matter how much she believed it should be different. 

"Ohhh," Harry says. "Ok, then."

She sticks her passport and boarding pass into the front pocket of her bag, maybe a little bit more forcefully than she needs to.

"Exactly. So don't judge me."

"What?!" Harry laughs, putting his foot down from the table. "I wasn't—" 

"I can't leave my son unattended, can I?"

"I—I know, yeah." His face falls, and he nods. "I get it. That's… It makes sense. Yes." 

"Right. Great." 

A second goes by, and then another one, and another one.

Silence settles again, but this time Aurora isn't worried about it being awkward or not. 

There's just… So much going on. 

Her heart is thumping loudly inside her chest, and her ears are buzzing. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him.

It wasn't about him. 

It wasn't his fault. 

She pinches the tip of her nose and breathes in. Slowly, and steadily. 

One more time. 

Slowly.

And steadily.

And then, she moves again.

She holds Harry's things in her hand and leans on the table, reaching for his bag. Before she touches it, she looks at him over her shoulder and asks, "Do you mind if I open your bag?"

Harry doesn't answer, though. He's tilting his chin down and shaking his leg, making sure his pants are properly covering his ankles. 

Aurora purses her lips and straightens her back, then slides his bag across the table and pulls it closer to her body. 

Now everything's in front of her, the tray caged in between both duffel bags. 

She bites her bottom lip, but it's hard to stop her mouth from turning into a smile. 

Maybe the speed in which she moves isn't an inconvenience, after all. In fact, maybe it even comes in handy, because apparently if she doesn't move for both of them, someone will sooner or later shove them away. 

"Harry," she insists.

"Hm?" He looks up. A frown crinkles his face — his eyebrows are pulled together, his forehead is puckered, and his lips are curled downwards. As soon as he meets her eyes, though, his shoulders drop, and he shakes his head. "Sorry."

He scratches his jaw, dragging his nails over his stubble. 

Aurora stretches her arm, and pats her hand on the edge of the table, where his feet were a minute ago. "It's fine. I was just asking if it's okay to put your passport inside your bag."

"Oh! Yeah yeah, sure. Go ahead. Thanks."

"'Kay," she says, already unzipping the front pocket and putting things away. 

Aurora rolls her shoulders at the same time Harry moves closer, and she unthinkingly snatches his belt from the tray and hands it to him. 

"Here."

"Oh," he murmurs, grabbing it from her fingers. "Thanks."

He steps away, but there's something in his voice that somehow catches her attention, and Aurora turns her head. 

She glances over her shoulder, and peeks at his face. 

Harry is looking down again, chin pressed against his chest while he takes the end of his belt and puts it into the first front loop of his beige pants. His movements are casual, but he's holding back a smile, and Aurora can tell his mind is working on something.

Something silly, to be more specific. 

She curls her mouth up, then raises her left eyebrow. "What?"

Harry tugs his belt, threading it through the second loop. 

"What?" he repeats, and his mouth finally turns into a grin. 

She turns her body towards him, then places one hand on her waist and the other spread open on the table, holding up her weight. "C'mon, out with it."

Harry laughs, slightly bending his knees and throwing his head back. "I didn't even say a word!"

"Well, you didn't have to!" She rolls her eyes and chuckles, backing away from the table to put both hands on her hips. "I can see you're thinking something."

He shakes his head, looking down and threading his belt through the next loop. 

"Harry…"

He peeks at her through the corner of his eyes, then focuses back on his belt. 

"You're aware you can leave me unattended, right?" he asks, keeping a bright smile on his face and the light tone on his voice.

"What?"

"I mean I don't mind." He shrugs, eyes still on his current task. "Gotta admit it's kinda cute to see you like this." 

"I don't—"

"My favorite part was probably when you cleaned up the table."

"I—" Aurora closes her mouth, and exhales through her nose. "You put your feet there, Harry."

"I did, yeah. And you cleaned it up."

"Well, someone has to clean up your mess, don't you think?"

Harry glances at her, and smirks as mischievous and suggestive as he can be. "Oh, I always clean up my mess, love, don't worry about it."

He winks, and Aurora gasps. 

"Oh my God!"

She turns to face the table, feelings her cheeks getting warm. 

Harry laughs, though, so she steps closer to his side and nudges him with her elbow. 

"Shut up."

"'Kay mum."

"Ughhh." She rolls her eyes, then shuts them tightly and takes a deep breath in. "You're so annoying." 

Harry's laughter only grows louder, and Aurora shakes her head, blinking her eyes open again. 

It only takes him a moment to calm down, but the smile is still obvious in his voice when he speaks again. 

"I know. I'm just teasing you, tho. I'll stop now. I promise."

Aurora snorts. "Yeah, right." 

She believes his words as much as she believes Noah when he promises he will eat his entire dinner if he gets to eat dessert first. 

The thought brings a smile to her face, and she bites her lip to hold it back. 

Peeking inside the tray one more time, she finds several rings, a bracelet, a watch, and three necklaces. Her mouth twitches, and her chest trembles with amusement — no wonder why Harry took so much longer than her to get through security.

She pulls the string of her necklace from the tray, takes each side to the back of her neck and quickly clasps it back to its everyday place. Next, she grabs her watch, and puts it on just as fast around her wrist. 

"Well,"  she starts, then looks at him. 

Harry is, once again, deeply focused on his task — his chin touches his chest, his eyebrows are pulled together, and he's biting his bottom lip. 

"All yours now," she adds. 

Harry peeps at her through the corner of his eyes, his hands still attached to his belt as he finally reaches the last loop. He darts his vision to the tray, then back at her, scanning her chest, her wrist, and her hands. "You sure? All of it?"

"Mhmm."

A group of people walks to their table, and Aurora takes a step aside to give them more room.

"Ok." He buckles his belt, then fixes his shirt. "We can go, then."

"Oh. I didn't mean to rush you."

He smiles, putting one hand inside the tray and carelessly collecting everything that's left inside. 

"You didn't." He closes his hand into a fist, then shoves everything inside of his pocket. "It's just getting crowded here. C'mon."

"Hey, was my joke inappropriate?"

Past security and turning right, the hallway is significantly less hectic than any other area Aurora has walked through in the last hour or so. 

It is probably one of the brightest, too. 

"Hm?" she asks, tilting her head to give Harry her full attention. "Sorry, what joke?"

"About… Y'know, cleaning up my mess."

"Ohhh." Aurora laughs, then waves him off. "Please, it's nothing any of you guys haven't joked about before." 

"I know, but… Things are different now, aren't they? Don't want to make you uncomfortable, or, well, don't want to be disrespectful to your hus—"

"You're fine," she says, cutting him off before she'll be forced to either correct him or say nothing, implicitly letting him believe there's still a husband in her life. "Don't worry about it. Let's stop here so you can put your rings back on, yeah?"

She points to one side of the hallway, and walks in front of him to guide the way. It only takes her a few steps, then she places her bag by her feet and turns around. 

When she looks at him, she finds him frowning. 

Frowning and frozen on the spot. 

"Harry, hey!" She raises one hand and wiggles her fingers. "C'mon. I'll help you."

Harry's face softens. He shakes his head, then walks towards her while putting his hand inside of his pocket. 

Leaning against the white wall, Aurora watches him come to a stop right in front of her, then drop all of his jewelry on top of her spread open palm.

"Thank you," he murmurs. 

She finds his sight again, and a smile blooms across her face. "Sure, no problem."

His lips curve into a smile, too, and he looks down. He shakes his head and pulls his hair back, then turns his attention back to the items on Aurora's palms. He seems meticulous about which ring goes where, fiddling with them and hunting for specific ones. Eventually, he grabs three at once, and puts them on his pinky, middle and index left fingers. 

Aurora raises her chin and rests the back of her head against the wall, comfortably watching his relaxed face as he towers over her. 

From what she remembers, jewelry was never Harry's thing. Long hair and skinny jeans? One hundred percent. But the necklaces, the rings, and the bracelets? Those were things she'd no idea he'd be into. Or maybe not to the point of making them part of his casual look to the airport.  

"So," she teases, easing her dry lips with her tongue then forcing her voice to sound exactly like she imagines a reporter would sound like, "Harry, would you say you enjoy wearing rings?" 

Harry darts his eyes to her, and the expression on his face never falters, holding a serious and unamused demeanor as he moves his lips to say, "Bloody hate them."

She presses her lips together, but then she snorts, taking her free hand to cover her mouth. 

Harry shakes his head and grins, changing hands and catching two more rings to put on his right fingers. 

"Why? What's wrong with my rings?" 

She sighs and shrugs, calming down from her brief moment of foolish, silly laughter. 

"Nothing. 'M just teasing you."

He places the last two, and pulls the two golden strings from her palm. 

"Hmm…" Harry nods. He fixes his eyes on the jewelry and frowns, eying the many tiny knots that had formed along the necklaces. "Great, then. Glad you're having fun at my expense."

Aurora drops her jaw.

"You were making fun of me two minutes ago!"

Harry chuckles, although he's distracted by his attempt to untangle his necklaces. "Guess I was, huh."

He shakes his head, and Aurora steps away from the wall, getting closer to him.

"Which wrist do you wear this one?" she asks, lifting her hand and his bracelet.

"Left—I mean, right," he answers, and although they don't look at each other's faces, they both smile at the same time. 

Harry remains focused on the knotted strings between his fingers, but stops moving when Aurora curls one hand around his right wrist and pulls it closer to her face. In one quick movement, she clasps the item around it, then taps his hand twice. 

"All done. Now gimme that." 

She snatches the necklaces from him, and observes carefully before undoing the mess. One of the golden strings is longer than hers, but they're both just as delicate, and instead of a disk, one holds a cross pendant, and the other a tiny, thin tag. She bites her lip and patiently fiddles with the pieces of jewelry, taking her time to unwrap the tiny knots.

Things are quiet. Time ticks without a hurry. And after a minute, or maybe two, or three, she grins proudly, and lifts her chin to look at him.

"Look!" she says, even though she doesn't have to — Harry's already looking at her, already watching her. "I've done it!"

He blinks a couple of times, then nods, slowly mimicking her smile and her excitement. "Y—You did, yeah! Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grabs the longest string, picking each side with one hand, and takes a step closer to him. "I find untangling necklaces weirdly therapeutic." 

Harry widens his eyes. "What are you doing?!" 

Aurora rolls her eyes, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm not gonna kiss you, don't worry."

"Right. No, yeah, I know that." He chuckles, too. "Of course." 

She stops moving and tilts her head, then raises her hands. "I mean, can I?"

"Wha—" Harry takes a step back. "Kiss me?!"

"Harry!" Aurora shrieks, also taking a step back and away from him. "Oh my God, no!"

She looks at him for a moment, taking in his bulged eyes and raised eyebrows. He looks mortified, and there's so much going on at once that she can't help but burst into laughter — at the misunderstanding, at the look of his face, but also at the terror in his voice. 

She turns away from him, throwing her head back as laughter breaches from her chest. 

"This is… I can't…"

"Sorry," Harry says, "I just—"

Aurora shakes her head, feeling warmth radiating from her chest throughout her entire body. 

"Oh my… Oh my God." She places one hand on her stomach and brings the other to her face, fanning herself while taking a deep breath in through her nose. "You should've… You should've seen your face… Oh God… Harry… You panicked so hard, I just…"

She wipes a tear from under her eye, and takes another deep breath in, working to calm herself down.

"I never… I never thought the idea of kissing me could… Could be that terrifying for someone. Oh God."

Harry sighs. "Auri…"

She turns around, and looks at him with the biggest smile on her face, her body still shaking from laughing. 

Harry isn't happy, though. Or at least he doesn't seem to be. He's narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. His lips are pressed into a hard line, and his forehead is puckered. 

And just like that, Aurora's laughter fades away. 

Shit. 

She's too familiar with that dynamic, so she clears her throat and shakes her head. 

"I'm sorry. I—I know it wasn't funny. I just… I think I haven't laughed this hard in a really long time, so I just… I got carried away, I guess. I'm sorry. But I shouldn't—Sorry." 

"Listen, I didn't—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." 

Actually, Aurora doesn't know. Of course she doesn't know. She has absolutely no idea what he was about to say, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She's been there before. And she's been there before so many times that her mind and body don't even know how to react any other way. How not to anticipate the humiliation and shame that is about to follow. How not to completely shut off. 

Thankfully, Harry seems to get it, because he nods, grabbing his necklaces from her hand and putting them back inside of his pocket. 

And this time, Aurora doesn't say anything about it, grabbing her bag from the floor and feeling ready to move on.

"Do you mind if we take a look around some of the shops?" Aurora asks, pointing around the World Duty Free and breaking the silence that settled between them for the past few minutes. 

Harry moves slowly next to her, keeping his hands inside of his pockets. "'Course not."

"Thanks." She makes sure to curve her mouth into a smile, then stops at the first shop to take a look at the makeup. 

Things are quiet, but Harry stands right behind her all the time, keeping her company while she brings a lipstick closer to her face to check the color shade, and then following her steps when she moves to a different shelf. 

"Hey," Aurora says, looking over her shoulder, "what's your cologne?"

"Hm..." He scratches his jaw and shrugs. "Depends on the day, I guess."

She nods, then turns to face some nail polish, aiming for the brightest options. 

It's been a while since she's done her nails. She used to love looking at her hands and seeing them colorful and filled with rings, it used to make her feel beautiful and delicate. Feminine. 

Zack used to love it as well, though, and to be honest at some point she stopped doing a lot of things Zack liked. Just because.

"Which one are you wearing today, then?"

"Why?" 

She shrugs. His voice is right behind her, but Aurora doesn't turn around to look at him. 

"'Cause you smell really nice." 

Maybe she could do her nails in Italy… Maybe one of the girls brought something with them. 

Or maybe she could get something herself…

The orange shades look nice…

She sighs, and steps away from the shelf. 

She can't. She shouldn't spend her money like that. She needs to be more careful now, especially since she spent a lot of unplanned money on that trip to Italy. 

She turns her head, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "So…?" 

Harry clears his throat. "Uh… Well… It's Guerlain."

Aurora twirls, holding her bag close to her body as her hair and dress follow her brisk movement.

"Cool! Let's find it, then." 

She walks away, and Harry's low chuckle echoes behind her. 

Although she can't see him, she feels his presence all the time, following her pace.

"What for?" he asks. 

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking from one side to the other. Scanning all the tiny duty-free shops. "I'm bored, I'm tired… Oh! There it is!" 

Her pace quickens, and so does Harry's.

Aurora only stops when she's in front of the Guerlain shelves, and then she turns around, staring at him with a smile on her face and pointing her arm to the many colognes displayed behind her. 

"Which one is yours?"

He clears his throat, and— 

Wait, is he blushing? 

Aurora purses her lips, holding herself back from laughing.

"It's L'Homme Idéal Extrême."

"Hmmm." She wiggles her eyebrows, and pulls one corner of her mouth up in a smirk. "Sounds sexy…" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunts, hiding his face behind both of his hands and shaking his head. 

Aurora laughs at his reaction, tapping his shoulder twice before turning on her feet and looking for his cologne. 

"What happened to you in the States, huh?" She leans down, squinting to read the names. "Never thought I would see Harry Styles getting all shy in front of me."

It takes him a moment to answer, but eventually he mumbles, "I've always been shy in front of you."

Aurora pauses for a moment, replaying his words in her mind. Images of them hanging out together pop up immediately — at the pub, at someone's apartment, after class, over the weekend. His cheeky glances, touchy hands and bold comments are always present, one way or another. He always craved attention, and people had no problem granting his wishes. 

It never bothered her, because he was young and had just joined university, but it certainly didn't paint him as a shy and reserved person. 

A snort leaves her mouth. "Yeah, right." 

She stands, and puts her hands on her waist. "What was the sexy name again?"

"L'Homme—" He sighs. "It's this one."

Aurora turns around, only to find Harry standing in the same place they were a minute ago. The shelf next to him is filled with bottles of the same cologne. Apparently, his cologne.

She gasps. 

"Harry!" She walks towards him, and Harry shakes his head in soft laughter, scratching the back of his neck. "I was standing right next to it and you didn't tell me!"

"It's just a very common cologne, Auri." He laughs, again. It sounds kind of shaky, though, and she frowns, stopping on her track. "I don't… Why are we looking for it?"

Uh… 

Well… To be honest… She doesn't have an answer for that. 

She doesn't know why they're looking for it. She is just joking. She just wanted to pass the time because she is exhausted, and because the longer she spends around people, the more afraid she is of falling apart at any moment. She thought maybe she could try it on, see if his cologne would smell as well on her skin as it smelled on his… Who knows… She was just… She wasn't thinking, okay? She was just being her stupid self.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't just messing around. Harry looks actually nervous. 

Her jokes are making him nervous. 

She is making him uncomfortable. 

In the middle of an airport, filled with people. 

Shit.

And she's done it twice now. 

First with the necklace… Now with the cologne… 

Fuck.

How many more times till he reaches his breaking point? 

How many more times till she finally pushes him through the edge? 

How many more times till she puts him in a position where he won't be able to stop himself from snapping at her?

Her hands shake, and her stomach quivers. 

"Yeah, no, I mean…" She shakes her head and smiles at him, closing her hands into fists and placing them behind her back. "You're right. Sorry. I—I'm really sorry. Hm… I think I… I should get a coffee."

Harry flinches his head back. "Wait  what?"

"Coffee. It'll keep me awake." She walks around him, and Harry follows her movements. 

"Auri, but what… Hey! What about my cologne?"

She waves it off. "Yeah, I know. I was just being annoying." 

She moves towards the exit of the duty-free, where all the departure gates are, and another yawn breaks through her lips. 

"Yep." She chuckles. "Definitely need some coffee."

"Auri," Harry calls, catching up with her. "Hey, stop. C'mon. Something just happened."

"What do you mean?" Aurora laughs. 

She flexes her fingers, curling and uncurling them. Her eyes wander around the airport, looking for a coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

She needs a coffee shop. She needs to get herself together. She needs to busy herself with something before she does something silly and stupid again. 

"I… I don't know. Why did you change your mind?"

Harry walks next to her, and she offers him a smile. 

"About what?"

"What do you mean about what? About my cologne, Auri!"

Aurora flinches.

"Sorry. Yeah, no, right. The cologne. Yeah. I just… I made you uncomfortable and I was being childish. Sorry."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, Auri, I just—"

"I know."

"Auri, no, listen—" 

"Harry." She turns around and smiles, then places one hand on his elbow. "It's fine. You don't need to explain yourself. I just… I really, really need a coffee right now. I haven't slept all night, so… Yeah. I'd just like to get a coffee. If you don't mind."

She lets go of his elbow, and Harry sighs. 

"Ok, yeah. Let's get you some coffee, then."

They walk forward, side to side, and Harry speaks again. 

"Do you still drink caramel coffee?"

Aurora widens her eyes. 

"Wow… That's back from… Well, a long time ago."

It's small, and kind of timid, but Harry smiles, and then shrugs. "Used to get you one at least once a week, didn't I?"

"You did, yeah." She smiles back at him and nods, then faces forward again. There's a coffee shop only three stores ahead, and it seems to be already open. Thank God. "To be honest I can't remember the last time I had one. I drink plain black coffee now."

Harry nods, and they both walk in silence, side by side — always side by side.

It shouldn't be uncomfortable, but Aurora's chest is heavy, and her mind seems foggy. 

Truth be told, she thought she would have more time before she started disappointing her friends, before letting them know how much she's changed and how uninteresting she's become.

Meeting Harry at the airport got in between her plans, though. And she could feel herself breaking little by little each second. Having to face the memories of someone she used to be, someone she liked to be, but also someone she isn't anymore. And someone she can't be anymore. 

Looking at her feet, she bites the inside of her lip. She was acting like a child at the duty-free, wasn't she? Jumping around, excited about his cologne… 

God. She hasn't even left the country yet, and she's already ruining things. 

She needs to control herself. 

She isn't a teenager anymore. She can't embarrass him. She doesn't want to embarrass him. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Harry asks, and she stops walking.

They're in front of the coffee shop, but Aurora wouldn't have realized if it weren't for him.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll just get myself a coffee."

"Let me get it for you."

What?

She takes a step back. "Absolutely not."

Harry's smile falters, but he doesn't give up. "C'mon… Like the old times! Yeah?"

"No, Harry. I mean, thanks, but no. I can pay for mine."

"I know you can pay for yours, I don't—"

"Please." She shakes her head and looks down to the floor. "It's just a silly coffee. I can get it for me. Okay?"

Harry frowns. 

"Ok? Yeah." 

Aurora nods, looks at the shop, then back to the floor. "Are you getting anything?"

"No, I'll just wait here."

"Okay," she whispers, forcing a smile before turning around and walking away.

It's crazy to see how much Harry has changed.

That's all Aurora can think about while she stands in line and watches him type on his phone. 

He's still outside, waiting for her, and seems deeply engaged with his conversation, frowning while his fingers move rapidly. 

No more black skinny jeans, no more vintage t-shirts or Chelsea boots. No more curls that are longer than her own hair. No more thin shoulders nor skinny arms. 

His baggy pants — wide legged, high-waisted — are beige, his cute shoes are yellow, and she still can't get over the flamingo shirt he's wearing.

He looks older, too. Brooding features, chiseled cheekbones, growing stubble. His face is perfectly carved, his traces have hardened, and there is something very manly about the way he stands there, focusing on typing on his phone. 

It isn't just his physical appearance, though. He acts like a grown-up, too. There's something about the way he simply exists that screams how much he's changed. You would never tell the man standing outside is the same boy who used to make stupid bets with his roommates from uni. But it's clear that Harry isn't a boy anymore, and that he's turned into a man.

And Aurora wasn't prepared to deal with that. 

Aurora lowers her chin and rubs her eyes.

She is being ridiculous. 

Why would she need to be prepared for that? 

Of course Harry grew up! How old is he now, anyway? 29? 30? Of course he isn't the same anymore. 

She should focus on how nice it is to see him again, not about stupid things. 

Who would've thought she would actually meet him at the airport? Who would've thought they'd end up sharing the flight? Standing in line with him, hopefully getting some seats next to each other… She should appreciate having a friend by her side. That's all. 

Aurora can't remember why he stopped hanging out with the group, though, and now she can't stop thinking about it. She has absolutely no idea about anything that could be going on with his life. It was as if Harry had grown more and more distant with time, until he wasn't there at all.

She's still pretty sure the last time she saw him was at her and Zack's wedding. She remembers someone telling her he'd moved to the United States, but why wasn't she at his graduation? It didn't make sense. Especially considering how, around a year later, he was kind enough to send them a basket when Noah was born.

They weren't the closest friends, and they were in very different stages of their lives when they met, sure, but they were part of the same group, and she used to have a soft spot for him. Just like she used to have a soft spot for Niall. 

Usually, when they were all at the pub, everyone would leave and the three of them would stay behind, chatting and laughing until Aurora felt her lids closing by themselves and they would walk her home. They both used to make her laugh all the time, and she actually loved spending those moments with them. 

Until she met Zack, of course, and then she started spending her nights with him. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't about him. Maybe she had grown more and more distant, until she wasn't around anymore. At all.

She knows it's something she's done with everyone else, at least. The girls would knock on her door from time to time, though, and she couldn't run from everyone whilst living in the same city, but Harry flying overseas was a different situation. So it makes sense they didn't keep up with their friendship. 

It makes sense, but it still bothers her. 

It bothers her because she forgot how easy, and fun, and electrifying it was to be around him. She forgot how affectionate, attentive, kind, and friendly he was. She forgot how spontaneous and cheerful she used to be with him. She forgot how much she enjoyed his carefree and easygoing way of looking at life. She forgot… 

Well, to be honest, it's like she just forgot about him. 

And how could she forget about him?

Harry used to be such a great friend. 

Just like Niall. 

But somehow different. 

Because there's something about the way Harry looks at her that she never found in Niall's eyes. It has something to do with Harry's curiosity, probably. How much he cares about details. How he likes to know more about people, about things, about everything. 

"Next?" the lady behind the counter shouts.

Aurora shakes her head, and darts her eyes away from Harry. 

She has no idea how much time she just spent staring at him. She didn't even notice she was doing it, to be honest. And she can only hope he didn't notice, as well.

The woman behind her taps her shoulder.

"That's you, miss," she says. 

Aurora widens her eyes and steps forward.  "Oh, yes, sorry… Hi!" 

Their flight is delayed. 

Aurora laughs, and rubs her fingers on her forehead. 

"And I was worried I'd be late," she murmurs.

They've been hanging out by their gate for at least half an hour now. Harry sits next to her, their bags placed together on his opposite side. He's leaning back comfortably, arms crossed on top of his abdomen and legs spread open in front of him. 

He nudges her arm with his elbow, then asks, "What was that?"

She shakes her head and waves him off with one hand, then double taps her phone with the other, lighting up the screen. 

It's 6:30. 

Noah should be waking up by now. Or at least Zack should be trying to wake him up. 

She unlocks her phone and opens up the app to text him. She takes a deep breath in, and her fingers hover the screen. She needs to be careful with her words, because she doesn't want him to think she doesn't trust him with Noah. That would be unfair with him. And it's not even about that. Of course it's not! She knows Noah's safe with his dad. She swears she never questioned him as a father. Whatever happened between them as a couple would never change the fact that Zack loves Noah to death. 

Aurora knows that. Really! The only reason why she wants to know how they're doing is because Noah has never woken up at his dad's new place, and because she knows what a long and emotional process it can be to wake him up. That's all. 

She bites her bottom lip, and types the same questions again and again, until she's happy with the way she's phrased them.

Hii! 

How are you guys doing?

How was Noah's first night over there? Did you guys have fun?

She sends the messages, and reads them over. And over, and over. 

That was good, wasn't it? She sounded friendly, right? She wasn't attacking him, right? He wouldn't be mad at her, right?

"I'll be right back," Harry says, getting up from his seat. He moves past her quickly, looking at his own hand and sliding his finger through the screen of his phone before taking it to his ear. "Hey… Yeah, I know… No, you listen to me…"

Harry doesn't sound happy — at all — and Aurora frowns. She watches him walk away, blending between people, then glances back to her phone.

No signs of Zack yet. Which is fine. Of course. It's not even been a minute. Actually, Aurora is usually so absorbed by Noah in the mornings that she doesn't check her phone until she drops him off at preschool. So it's fine. Really.

Hopefully he'll be able to make him have breakfast by 7:15, though. Otherwise they won't get there on time. Should she remind him of that? No, that's stupid. Zack is not stupid, and she always drives him insane for reminding him of the obvious little details. 

Maybe he won't even take him to preschool. Maybe he'll drive him over to his parents, instead. 

Or maybe she should just trust him. Maybe this would be the time he'd follow through with a promise he'd made.

Another yawn sneaks up on her. She slides down on her seat and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. 

Maybe she should accept Harry's offer and take a quick nap on his shoulder. She brushed the idea off minutes ago, but now she can't deny it sounds really tempting. 

God… How is she supposed to spend two days on a yacht? She's never been on one before. She also hasn't been around all her friends in a very long time… 

Is she going to be able to interact with them? Because if they're expecting her to act the same way she used to before getting married… Well, they'll be extremely disappointed.

The only thing about Aurora that'll resemble those old days are the clothes Maddie packed for her. 

Shit. Oh shit. Oh… Fuck! Her clothes. No, no, no. Shit! She is going to kill Madison. 

She can't wear all those clothes in front of Harry! There is no fucking way she'll walk in front of him in a bikini, or wearing those silk and backless dresses. There is absolutely no fucking way she's going to wear those tops that almost don't cover her breasts in front of him. 

Well, not just in front of him, of course…

She's thinking about Harry because he's the one with her right now, but she doesn't want to wear those clothes in front of anyone. Not just him. 

It isn't even about the people, really. It's about her body. A body that has changed a lot through the years. 

Oh, boy… She needs to sleep. She can't start spiraling about how unsexy she's been feeling for years. It's not the moment for that. It's not what the weekend is about. 

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" Harry's low and deep voice sounds right next to her ear, and Aurora jumps on her seat. 

Harry chuckles behind her, then makes his way around her seat. 

"Shit," she murmurs, taking her hand to her chest, but a shaky laugh still leaves her mouth. "You scared me."

He stops in front of her and furrows his brows, then tilts his head to the side and curves his mouth into a cheeky smile, narrowing his eyes to look at her. 

"What?" she asks. 

He doesn't move, though. 

And he also doesn't stop staring at her. 

Aurora shifts on her seat. 

But the staring still doesn't stop.

"Harry!" She chuckles, and looks away. 

And he still doesn't even flinch.

Oh, c'mon! That's ridiculous. 

It's like going back to university, honestly. He used to do the same when they were younger, usually at a pub or a club. He would stare at her like that until she stumbled over her own words, or until she forgot what she was about to do. He thought it was hilarious, but she never understood the point of it. 

"Knock it off, will ya?" She crosses her arms on top of her chest and rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking."

Harry (finally) laughs, face lighting up again — with dimples and wrinkles and almost fully-closed eyes.

He moves his arm, and puts a paper cup in front of her face. 

Aurora snaps her brows together.

"Sorry, love, I was just testing my skills," he says.

Aurora flinches her head back.

Why is he shoving that cup in her eyes? 

And also… "What skills?"

He shrugs. "Y'know, to rile you up just by looking at you." 

Harry presses his lips together, as if he can't wait to burst out laughing.

And Aurora knows that face, because Noah does the exact same thing. The cheeky little monster loves to surprise her, but he can never hold up a lie. He gives out the entire thing just by looking at her with the same excitement on his face. 

They honestly look the same. Except Noah is only four, and Harry a thirty-year-old man.

"Ha ha," she mocks him, looking away from his silly face. "You and my four-year-old son would be great friends."

"Aww!" Harry takes his seat next to her, chuckling and throwing an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to his side. "I'm sure we would." 

She rolls her eyes. 

Harry squeezes her cheek against his chest, and she's so close to his body that she can smell the soap and cologne emanating from his skin. He smells good. Like a fresh shower. It's a nice combination, something both strong and smooth at the same time.

Shit.

She pulls away, and shakes her head. 

"It wasn't a compliment," she murmurs. 

Harry chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." He withdraws his arm from around her shoulders and takes it back to his side, then puts his hand back in front of her face. The one holding a paper cup. "Now, this is for you."

Aurora raises her eyebrows. 

"And what's this supposed to be, exactly?" 

"Just try it." 

She doesn't make any movement to acknowledge his request, but Harry also doesn't make any movement to hint he'll stop shoving the cup on her face. Eventually, she sighs, and her entire body falls. 

"Harry…" 

"Oh, c'mon! Just a sip. Amuse me, yeah?"

Aurora glances at his hand, then back at his face. She presses lips together, then finally uncrosses her arms and lifts one of them to reach the cup, curling her fingers around it. 

For the sake of not ruining her mood, she ignores the way he cheers, or how he grins proudly before leaning his back against the backrest of his seat. She simply clutches the cup between both hands, instead, and its warmth is a high contrast with her cold skin. She can't help but hum at the feeling, and then she shivers, even her chin trembling a little. 

A timid chuckle escapes from her mouth, and she closes her eyes. She brings the cup up to her face and puts her nose close to the lid, breathing the flavor in. 

And just like that, her chest tightens. 

The smell is unmistakable, a combination between coffee and caramel that she would recognize anywhere, anytime. 

She blinks her eyes open, and turns her head to look at him. 

Harry is watching her attentively, without any traces of amusement or playfulness surrounding him anymore.

Aurora blinks a couple of times, gathering enough strength to ask him, "Did you… Did you get me a caramel coffee?" 

He nods once, only one side of his mouth lifting up. "Yeah."

She looks back at the cup in her hands, and blinks again. 

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says, softly. "Intuition, maybe. I know you already had your black coffee, but I… I don't know. I felt like you needed it? I don't know. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds stupid. Is that okay? Hope I didn't—"

She nods rapidly — unable to speak, but also desperate for him to stop explaining himself. 

And thankfully, he does. 

Aurora doesn't know what to say about it, though. She doesn't even know if there's anything she can say about it. 

His words don't sound stupid to her. That's for sure. The thing is that Harry doesn't understand the meaning his gesture actually holds, which scares her. He was able to pick up on something she needed when she wasn't brave enough to admit it to herself in the first place. And it was something so trivial… It was just coffee. Coffee.

"Noah does that sometimes, y'know," Aurora murmurs, looking at the mass of people in front of them. She hunches down a bit, not bothering by her awful posture as she comforts herself with the hot beverage in between her hands. Changing the subject is the only way she knows how to answer him right now, so she keeps going. "Sleeping with his eyes half open. It freaks me out."

Harry hums.

"There's a name for that, isn't it?" 

His voice is as soft and calm as before, and Aurora nods.

"Yeah, nocturnal something… I don't know. I always forget the stupid word." She rolls her eyes, and a humorless laugh leaves her mouth, making her body shake. "How do people even choose these names, huh? Why bother naming it if it's gonna be some ridiculous word no-one can even pronounce?"

"That's… Yeah, I don't know. You have a point, though."

"Sorry," she whispers, looking down at her lap. "Zack drives me insane using all those terms all the time. Makes me feel stupid."

Harry doesn't say anything, but for once the silence between them doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

She exhales the frustration out of her body, taking the cup to her mouth and sipping carefully in case it burns her tongue. 

The coffee touches her lips, and its sweetness automatically invades all of her senses. Her tongue tastes the caramel, and there's something bitter behind it, but it is mostly mellow and buttery. Just like she remembers it. 

And just like that, she's remembering all of it. 

She's flooded with memories from the comfort of home, and about the fun of living. Memories with simpleminded thoughts and unpretentious actions. 

She's back to a place where she isn't scared of speaking her mind all the time, where she isn't afraid of letting people down by her silly behavior, where she isn't terrified of her personality being the embarrassment of those around her. She's back to a place where she knows her friends and family like her for who she is, and where she's proud of her because of that. 

She's full of affectionate touches, sincere words, and genuine feelings.

There's confidence inside her, and an entire world she's willing to find out. 

And when she finally gulps down the simplest sip of caramel coffee, warmth takes over her throat. It reverberates through every inch of her body, and she shivers — her body filling with goosebumps as she closes her eyes to the paradoxical feeling. 

A moment passes, and the weight of a soft textured fabric lands on her back.

"Before you say anything," Harry's deep voice murmurs next to her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. "I'm not wearing it. And it's driving me insane seeing you so cold, so please just wear it."

Aurora glances at her shoulders, finding Harry's checked jacket covering her skin. It feels good, and it feels warm. And she actually doesn't mind it. At all. But there's something about the way Harry has just talked to her that flies directly into Aurora's heart. 

Maybe it's the softness of his voice. Or maybe how worried he sounded. Or maybe the fact that he seems to pay attention to her. Or maybe just because he acts as if he knows her so well. Even after so many years without talking to her. Or seeing her.

Or maybe it's just because she's already on edge because of the damn caramel coffee he bought especially for her.

She doesn't know exactly what it is, but something in his words triggers her into instantly tearing up. She can't help the overreaction, and before she can figure out a way to hide it, the evidence of her crying falls down her cheek, and she's taking a hand up to wipe it off her.

"Auri, hey…" 

Harry's hand lands on her back. The last push she needs to turn into an emotional wreck. A sob bursts out of her chest, and she covers her mouth. Oh my God. 

"Auri, love, I'm sorry… Did I… I can get the jacket back, I didn't—"

She shakes her head and puts the coffee between her thighs, then takes both hands up to her face. She uses her palms to wipe down the tears from her cheeks, and a long and shaky sigh leaves her mouth. 

Harry takes the cup from between her legs, putting it down on the floor before shifting closer to her. His knees bump into the side of her thigh, and the hand that isn't on her back brushes softly her jaw, getting rid of another tear.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispers. "You're fine. You didn't… You didn't do anything wrong."

The last thing she wants is for him to see her like that. They haven't seen each other for so long… She doesn't want to welcome him back to her life with tears and drama. She also doesn't want him to feel guilty about something that has nothing to do with him. 

"Ok…" He sounds wary, and while one hand rubs circles on her back, the other grabs her hand. "What's going on, tho? What can I do to help?" 

Once again, Aurora shakes her head. "I'm… I'm fine. I think I'm just… I'm  just exhausted from not sleeping last night."

It isn't a lie, but it also isn't the truth. She doesn't want to admit how lonely she constantly feels, because she wants to learn how to be alone. It doesn't make sense to ask for help when all she wants is to learn how to not need help.

"Why didn't you sleep?" 

"It's nothing. Really… Don't worry about me, I'm just being dramatic right now."

He strokes his thumb up and down on the back of her hand, and Aurora sighs, leaning into the warmth of his jacket. 

Warmth. Apparently that's all she craves now. 

"Of course I worry about you, Auri. And I'm here if you need anything, ok?" 

She nods, but his care for her brings another wave of tears, and she hides behind one hand while the other holds tightly onto him. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, dragging the hand on her back to her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. 

She can't believe the amount of times she's been hugged by him in merely a couple of hours, but she doesn't fight him. In fact, she does quite the opposite: she snuggles into him and cries quietly. And when Harry squeezes her shoulders, she squeezes his fingers in response. 

"Talk to me, love, please. What's going on?"

She sniffs. "Nothing…"

He rubs her arm, softly and tenderly, then carefully adds, "I don't wanna force you, but I can tell something's up and I'm worried about you."

Aurora shakes her head, feeling the desperation in her body slip out of her mouth as she cries to him. "Please don't... I don't want… I don't wanna worry you, ok? I really don't. I don't want to bother you. I'm just… Overreacting. I'll be fine. I'll be—"

"Auri, that's not—"

"Yes. Yes it is. It's just—"

"Stop doing that," he says, squeezing her shoulder. "You keep shutting me off every time I try to explain myself."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. I'm sorry—"

"Auri—

"—I'm so sorry—"

"—It's okay—"

"—I really am—"

"Auri, hey!" He pulls back, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and forcing her to look at him. His eyes are warm and caring as he stares inside hers, but there's a frown all over his face that screams something different. Annoyance, perhaps? Or maybe… Frustration? "Listen to me. It's fine, ok? There's no need for you to apologize. It's fine."

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. "No…"

"Yes, it's fine, Auri."

"It's not—"

"Yes—" 

"No!" Aurora opens her eyes, but tears quickly blurry her sight. She blinks, and before she knows it, she's fully sobbing and crying again. "It's not fine! Ok?! I'm not… I'm not fine, Harry. I'm not! I'm falling apart and I just… It's like I can't stop… And I just… I hate it, ok? I really do… I keep letting everyone down. And I… Fuck… I have no idea how… How am I supposed to spend the entire weekend…. The entire weekend pretending my life isn't a mess right now? I just… I can't… I can't pretend… I'm not… I can't…"

There's only a beat of silence before Harry pulls her into his chest again, squeezing her shoulders while he takes a long, deep, and heavy breath in. Then exhales loudly through his nose. 

"I don't know what's going on with your life right now," he says softly, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes while she sobs into his chest. "And I know I haven't been around, but I'm here for you, ok?" 

And just like before, Aurora melts into him. She hugs his waist, and leans against his body despite the uncomfortable and public position they're in. Crying all the tears she's been holding in so far. Silently sharing with him all the hurt, the doubts, and the insecurities she's been feeling. All the blaming, the questioning, and the yelling she's been hiding. Letting him absorb the wreck she is turned into after six years of marriage. All the failures. All the mistakes. All the countless "should've done better", and also "should've tried harder".  She lets it all out. With no hold backs, nor regrets.

"And you don't have to pretend, Auri," he adds. "At least not to me. Not even a little bit. Never… Why would you even pretend, huh? I can't be there for you if you don't let me know your life's a mess, and I want to be there for you. You know I do, yeah?"

Aurora can't answer him, not when her body's turning everything inside her into tears and sobbing, but he doesn't seem to be waiting for any words. Nor reactions. He rubs her back gently, while still holding her tightly, and then just keeps talking. 

"Besides, I don't expect anything from you, so—I mean, wait… That's not—Shit. That didn't sound good."

And despite everything, despite all the pain and all the tears and all the fears, a soft and low chuckle escapes from Aurora's chest. 

"That came out wrong… It's not—It's not what I wanted to say. Because of course I expect things from you, like… You're brilliant. You're amazing. You can do amazing things if you want to, ok? I know you can. What I meant is that—That there's no pressure, y'know? That's all. And that no matter what you do or what you say, nothing will change... I mean, I haven't been around, but you don't have to pretend things are good if they aren't, y'know? I'll be your friend even if… I don't know… Even if everything's falling apart… Actually, I want to be there especially when everything's falling apart, ok? So yeah, I just—Jesus Christ." He sighs. "Fuck. Auri please tell me you know what I'm trying to say here because I'm just freaking myself out right now."

Aurora's chuckle turns into laughter, and she nods against his chest, taking one hand up to her face to wipe off the last few tears. 

"I do, yes." She clears her throat, trying to get rid of some of the scratchiness. "Relax. I got it from the beginning." 

Harry smiles and sighs again, squeezing her shoulders. "Could've said something, huh? Stop me there. Save me the embarrassment, maybe?"

"You said I kept cutting you off when you tried to explain yourself, so…" Aurora shrugs. 

"Ohh, I see. Okay." Harry laughs. "We should work on your timing, then. Smartass."

She smiles, and sniffs. "My timing's perfect. It was cute, and I was having fun."

"Of course you were."

Although she can't see him, the smile is obvious in his voice, and she sighs. A long and heavy sigh. One that's strong enough to relax her entire body, and that makes her close her eyes and drop her shoulders. 

"Thank you," she murmurs, still into his chest.

"Yeah," he murmurs back. "Anytime, love." 

There's a pause between them. And then Harry speaks again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, to be honest… At least not right now."

"Ok…" 

Another pause, and then… 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She takes a deep, long breath in, then exhales while snuggling into his chest.

"Can we just… Stay like this for another minute? Just… Y'know… In silence?"

"Hm… So you want me to shut up, is that it?"

Aurora chuckles. 

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but…"

Harry chuckles, too. 

"'S fine. I don't mind. We can stay like this for as long as you want."

And so they do. 

They hug for a while. In silence. A tight embrace that's simple, but that's also intense enough to let her know that he's there for her. 

Aurora can't remember the last time she's been held like this, with honest tenderness and affection. The kind of hug that she doesn't question, and that comes naturally. That feels natural. 

"This was supposed to be a fun weekend," she murmurs, curling a little bit more into him and closing her eyes to avoid facing the world. "Can't believe I'm seeing you for the first time in years and already bringing all this drama to you."

Harry chuckles lightly. 

"Don't be silly, ok? We've been over this already… We're friends and this is what friends are for." He kisses the top of her head, and then rests his cheek against the same place. "Besides, we didn't leave London yet. We can still have plenty of fun."

Aurora sighs. "God. I really need to have some fun. I miss having fun."

"I'll make sure you get more than some."

He squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora smiles.

Still with her eyes closed, and pressing her ear against his chest, she listens to his heartbeat, and to the way he breathes. He isn't calm, but he is steady, and somehow comfortable. So she focuses on him, and only him. As if mimicking his rhythm, or syncing with his pace, could make everything in her life feel better. 

Harry sighs against her, and when the thumping inside him gets faster, she pulls one arm from around his waist to rest her hand on the left side of his chest. She spreads her fingers open where his heart is, and breathes in and out slowly, hoping to calm him down again. 

He takes one hand to her neck, sliding it to the back of her head and tangling his fingers with her hair. 

As he scratches her scalp, Aurora can feel every muscle of her body fully relaxing. It's soothing. And it's safe. There's no other place she would rather be right now, and she's convinced that, as long as she's holding him and he's holding her, she'll finally relax and rest like she hasn't been able to in so long. 

"Have you always been such a great hugger?" she asks, her voice as soft and as slow as her body feels.

Harry clears his throat, then murmurs, "I don't know." 

Aurora hums. 

Another moment passes, until she breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry for being a shitty friend."

"You're not a shitty friend."

"But I am, tho. I have no idea what's going on with your life… It's been so long and I… I never reached out."

Harry sighs, and shifts on his seat. 

Aurora follows his movements, making sure the hug doesn't end even when he seems to be pulling away. 

He doesn't, though — pull away. He simply leans back on his seat, pulling her along with him. And because she's still comfortable against his chest, she doesn't see the way his face falls, how he presses his lips together in a hard line, or glares at random people passing by.

"It's fine," he eventually says. 

And she's so focused on her own past behavior, that she also doesn't notice the slight change in his voice.

"It's not, though."

"I never reached out either, did I? And I should have… I just… I should have." 

She fidgets with the fabric of his shirt, and although it takes her a moment to answer, the words fly easily out of her mouth. "I'm not sure if it would've made any difference, to be honest… I've pushed everyone away, would've done the same to you." 

"There's no fucking way I would've let you."

"It wouldn't be up to you, tho."

A ding-ding-dong blares from the speakers in the lounge area. 

"Attention passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Boarding is for business class and passengers with…"

The attendant's voice fades as Aurora stops paying attention to it. She blinks her eyes open and, against her wishes, pulls away from Harry's arms.

"Finally," she breathes out.

When she looks at him, she finds nothing but honesty and affection inside his eyes, and it's enough to make her heart skip a beat. 

She curves her lips into a smile, then brings her hands up to wipe the dry tears from her cheeks. "Thank you."

Harry smiles, too. "You've said that already."

"I know." She nods, dropping her hands back to her lap. "I just… Thank you, really. For now and… And for the coffee. Even though I forgot to drink it."

He takes one hand to her face, and puts some of her hair behind her ear.

"We'll have time for another one," he says, then stares into her eyes again. "Yeah?"

"Yeah…" She gulps down, captivated by his gaze. "I think… I think it'd be nice if we could catch up, right? I mean, there's so much about you that I don't know…" 

Harry smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"There isn't anything crazy to know about me."

Aurora furrows her brows. 

"Well I don't need crazy information, Harry," she scoffs, making sure the tone of her voice is carrying some playfulness while she rolls her eyes. "I just wanna know what's up with your life… Where do you live? Do you have any dogs, or cats? Where do you work? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you have any kids? Are you married? I don't know…"

Harry stares blankly at her for a moment, then looks away, reaching for their bags. 

"Those are too many questions, love."

Aurora shrugs. 

"Well, yeah…" She leans down and picks up her coffee. The cup feels cold, and although she's sad she didn't get to drink it, she wouldn't change anything about what happened in the last… Well, however long it's been since they got here. "I know. I'm curious. That's why I said it'd be nice to catch up."

She stands up and rearranges Harry's jacket, putting it on properly so it doesn't fall from her shoulders, then waits while he stands as well, picking their bags from the seat next to his.

"Ok, yeah. Sure. We can catch up." 

"Wow." She snorts and widens her eyes. "Calm down, now. Don't sound sooo excited, please."

Harry laughs. He puts his own bag on his shoulder, and she takes hers from his hand. 

"I'd love for us to catch up, Auri. I really would."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes at him, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking towards the line. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Harry follows her, grabbing his boarding pass and passport from the front pocket of his bag. "Why would I hide something from you?"

"I don't know…" She throws the coffee cup away, then adds, "Maybe you're working with the FBI. Or, maybe you're married to someone who works for the FBI. Ohhhhh," — she widens her eyes, looking at him while he leads their way to the gate — "or maybe, you're married to someone who's being investigated by the FBI!"

Harry chuckles through his nose. He sneaks his hands inside Aurora's bag, pulling her boarding pass and passport from it.

"There's no FBI involved, I promise," he says, handing her the items. 

"Hmmm…" She grabs her things from his hand, and nibbles her bottom lip before asking, "But you're married to someone?" 

"Nop." 

"Okay… Dating to someone?"

He shakes his head, and Aurora nods.

"Are relationships a touchy subject, maybe?"

Harry smirks, and that's more than enough to give Aurora an answer, but she still waits for him to say something. 

Anything.

"I broke up with someone not too long ago." He shrugs. "So I'm not in the mood for relationships right now, to be honest. And that includes talking about it." 

The line moves quickly, and they take a step forward. 

"Oh, sure. Yeah. I get it. Of course." Aurora nods. "I'm sorry, tho. Y'know, that it didn't work out."

He shrugs, and they walk again.

"'S fine." 

The shift in his behavior is loud and clear, and it bothers her. The idea of someone breaking Harry's heart deep enough for the pain to overshadow his excitement and dull the brightness of his smile doesn't feel right. So it bothers her. It really does. Whoever it was, he surely deserved someone much better. He surely deserves someone better.

A flight attendant welcomes them with a grin and a cheerful good morning. Aurora smiles back, and hands him her passport and boarding pass, then waits for him to return them. He wishes her a safe flight, and repeats the same process with Harry. 

Aurora waits for him in silence, and once they're both ready to walk through the airgate, she picks the conversation back on. 

"I'm sure you'll find someone, y'know? It won't be that hard. You're still young, and dating was never a problem for you, so…"

There's a pause, and then Harry snorts. "Dating was never a problem for me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y'know… That's what you, Niall and Jayden used to do all the time, wasn't it? Dating and… Flirting and hooking up with everyone?"

Harry stops walking and turns to stare at her in silence, with widened eyes and flared nostrils. 

Aurora stops, too, biting her lip to hold back her amusement while waiting for him to say something. 

He doesn't, but he eventually laughs, throwing his head back and making her fully smile at him. He shakes his head, and starts walking again.

"Jeez, Auri, I'm so offended right now."

"Oh c'mon…" She chuckles, following his steps. "I meant it as a compliment, okay? Like… Girls were always into you, that's all."

"Not all girls, though."

"Fine." She shrugs. "Ninety-five percent of them, then."

He snorts again. "Ok."

"How old were you when we met? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, it was my second year. Why?"

"Nothing. I think… For a moment I just forgot you're so much younger than me, that's all."

"C'mon, not so much, I'm almost thirty now."

"Well, yes, but I'm thirty-five."

"See? Same age."

She chuckles. "We're not the same age."

"Ok, but almost."

"Not even close, Harry."

"Oh c'mon! Then what are you now? Ancient? Should I call you grandma?"

She chuckles. "Well… I do feel ancient, to be honest."

He rolls his eyes. "This is ridiculous. You're just as young as I am."

She shakes her head. 

"Yeah, I mean, I know that… But I don't know… I mean, talking to you right now I don't feel like you're younger, y'know? Let alone that much. But also—"

"It's not that much."

"No, I know. But if you think about it, I already got married and I have a four-year-old at home, so like, I really am too old and—What?" Harry is frowning at her, and she tilts her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugs, then faces forward, away from her. "I'm trying to decide if I should kick your ass right now or just throw you into the ocean later."

She gasps, but then she chuckles. "What? Whyyy?"

Harry raises his eyebrows at her. "I'm only five years younger than you, Auri. Five. It's not even a big deal."

She sighs.

The line in front of them moves, and they move forward as well. 

"Sorry. You're right. Like I said, it doesn't feel like it right now, but I think… I don't know. When you were 19 and I was 24 it was different, yeah? I mean, we were in different stages of our lives. I was meeting Zack and you were—" 

"Yes, I know. I was there, remember?" 

She swallows down, and nods. 

"Sorry," she repeats, much softer this time. 

Aurora walks in silence, staring at the plane at the end of the hallway. 

She pretends to ignore the way Harry keeps glancing at her, or how he rubs the back of his neck, or how he rolls his shoulders. She knows she bothered him, and the idea of causing a scene when they're about to get into a plane feels terrifying. She should've kept her mouth shut, that way she wouldn't have them put them in that situation. Again.

It's like she's been riding on a rollercoaster she never knew she would get into in the first place. Going through multiple sudden changes of speed and directions. Slowly climbing a steep slope and painfully anticipating the fall before she actually drops directly into the ground. Holding herself during the unexpected tight turns and sharp curves, and gasping for air at every inverted loop. Experiencing the ups and downs of gravity as she's weightless and happy at the top of the hill, then all of a sudden her own personality is pushing her back down to reality. And by the end of it, the back of her throat hurts, her stomach feels funny, and there's just heaviness all over her body. 

"Hey," Harry calls. 

He shifts his bag from one shoulder to the other and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer even though they're still walking. He kisses the top of her head, and keeps his lips there as he speaks. "'M sorry. Shouldn't have cut you off like that."

Aurora shrugs. "It's fine." 

"It's not. We were just joking and I… I took it personally, 'm sorry."

He kisses her head, again, and her lashes flutter. 

She knows he's sorry, but she doesn't know what to say to him. She knows how easy it is for her to forgive when she shouldn't, and how many times in the last six years she believed in empty apologies. 

So although she knows, she isn't sure she can trust herself. 

She hasn't been trusting herself for a while now. 

A new flight attendant welcomes them into the plane, and they both pull away from each other.

Aurora walks in front of Harry, and she does her best to smile genuinely at the cheerful woman that's wishing them a good morning and a good flight. 

She holds the strap of her bag tightly on her shoulder, and walks through the narrow carpeted aisle, focusing on the numbers and letters above the seats as if she's looking for specific ones. She pauses here and there for other passengers that are getting settled, and it's only past the emergency door that Harry speaks again.

"Should we sit here?" he asks. He's pointing to the opposite side where she's facing, so she turns around, finding three empty seats.  

"Okay." 

She nods, and tilts her chin up to check the space to put her bag. Harry is quicker, though, because he is already closing his fingers around the strap on her shoulder and pushing it away from her arm.

"I'll put our bags together, yeah?" 

She doesn't want to fight him about it, so she simply thanks him with the best smile she can offer and allows him to easily grab her duffel bag. 

She slides through the two empty seats to reach the one by the window, not waiting any longer to secure the seat belt and make herself comfortable. Once she's settled, she clasps her hands together, and takes a deep breath in. Her chin trembles, and she looks down, biting the inside of her cheek. She doesn't want to cry again. She really doesn't want to cry again.

Also, she needs to sleep. She must get some sleep. There is absolutely no way she is going to handle spending the entire day awake, and if she doesn't sleep now, she'll only get an opportunity again at the yacht — meaning she won't get to spend any time with her friends. 

Harry sits next to her and puts his own belt on, then turns off his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Aurora doesn't look at him, but he turns sideways anyway, leaning his shoulder on the back of the seat and blocking them from any possible curious eyes. 

He grabs one of her hands from her lap and takes her fingers to his mouth, placing a long kiss to her knuckles before sighing. 

"Auri, love," his voice is soft, and a whisper for only them to hear, "I really am sorry." 

She nods, taking her free hand to wipe a tear before it could roll down her cheek.  

Shit.

"Please, don't cry."

"Mhm."

"Auri… Look at me, please."

She shakes her head, then. Because she knows that she'll fall apart all over again if she looks at him.

God, she's so tired.

"I didn't…" she murmurs, then takes a deep breath and tries again. "I didn't mean anything bad by the age thing… I promise."

"I know that, love. Of course I know," he says, pressing another kiss to her hand. "Fuck. I know. We were just joking. And I'm not mad about it, I promise. I mean, I was actually a stupid hormonal teenager back when we met, so yeah… You're right, things were different. But please, Auri, I hate that I made you cry just because I… Shit, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It wasn't about you, I promise."

She stares at her knees and nods, because she knows he is. And she also knows she can trust him, which is probably why she — finally — honestly blurts out, "I keep messing everything up, y'know? All the time."

He brushes his thumb on the back of her hand, then murmurs back to her, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just… I keep letting everyone down, and I hate it, but it's like I can't stop it. And I mean, to be honest I don't… I don't even recognize myself anymore. I used to have so much fun, and I felt so different about life… And I treated people around me so differently… And now I'm just… I don't know… I don't know why I say things, or why I do things. I don't know what I want, or what to do with my life… And I feel so… Lonely… All the damn time. But I get why I'm lonely, y'know? I mean it's true that I don't know how to be anything else besides being Noah's mum. And I'm so insensitive to other people because of that, and I keep saying things I shouldn't and I just… I look back and I realize how I pushed everyone away… How I… I don't know, I'm so tired of this. I'm just so tired of myself."

There is a pause between them, mostly because Harry's waiting for the people in front of them to settle and stop prying at their conversation. 

It's good, though, because it gives her time to catch her breath again.

And then, Harry leans deeper into his seat, still holding tightly to her hand.

"Is that how he made you feel?"

Aurora furrows her brows. "What—Who?"

"Zack. Is that how Zack made you feel?"

"I… No! Why—I mean, I'm just… I'm talking about myself." 

"Auri, c'mon… I know you're talking about yourself, but I can read between the lines."

She closes her eyes and takes her hand up to her face, rubbing her forehead while she prepares herself to just keep blurting out what her mind is begging her to tell him.

"I think…" she says, dropping her hand back to her lap and blinking. "I think he really messed me up, y'know?"

Harry sighs. 

It takes him a moment to say something. A moment that feels really, really long to her. 

And then… 

"Fuck." He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his chest, murmuring while resting his cheek on the back of her head, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs, snuggling into him and searching for his heartbeat, just like before.

"'S not your fault."

"But I should've been there for you."

"You wouldn't have known." 

"Still… This isn't how it was supposed to be." 

God, she's so tired… 

Her entire body is heavy, and she doesn't even know what's happening around them anymore. She can't even make sense of their conversation anymore. 

Harry feels too cozy, though, and she knows she's about to have the comfiest sleep of her life — she can feel it.  

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I got divorced six months ago."

Harry closes his eyes, then rearranges himself on his seat and pulls her closer to him.

"I know."

.

.

.

"You know? How?" 

"Niall."

"Oh. Okay?" 

"I texted him while you were getting your coffee."

She places her hands on his hips, holding her weight to pull away from him. 

Harry doesn't let her, though, squeezing her inside of his arms and locking her in. 

"Please stay," he murmurs. 

And Aurora doesn't fight him. She just relaxes again — she relaxes and listens to him. 

"You weren't wearing a ring… And I could tell something was up, so I… I asked him. That's all. Sorry if I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. I needed to know."

"Oh…" The concept of time is foggy inside her mind, but she's pretty sure a few seconds go by before she speaks again. "'S okay, I guess. I mean… Niall knows about the divorce, but he doesn't… He doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know how bad it was."

"Does anyone know?"

"You?" She chuckles, but it's humorless, because she knows that not even Harry truly knows. "I just… I haven't been able to talk about it yet, or like… Process it, I think. I don't know. I keep justifying him a lot, which I'm learning it's something I shouldn't do."

He makes his cheek comfortable on top of her head, then takes one hand to play with her hair, scratching her scalp. "It can't be easy to go through something like this on your own, tho."

"I know…" She closes her eyes, appreciating his affectionate touch. "My mum's helping me a lot… She had to go back home now, but she spent over a month with me. Makes sure I don't skip therapy… Stuff like that."

"Hmm…" Harry says, and his voice echoes inside her body. "Always liked her. Smart one."

Aurora curls her mouth up. "Yeah…" 

Another moment goes by, and Aurora is filled with lightness as her body slowly drifts into sleep. 

"Thank you for telling me this, Auri."

"Mhmm… It's weird… To like, talk about it."

"I'll always listen. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you… 'M really tired, tho... And I think my brain is going to explode…"

Harry chuckles. "Get some sleep, yeah? I'll wake you up when we're about to land."

"'Mkay." She hugs his waist, and nuzzles against his chest. "Can't believe this all happened and we didn't even leave the country yet."

"Tell me about it."

"Mm… 'Kay… I'll sleep now… You're comfy… And I think… I feel drunk…"

Chuckling again, Harry presses a kiss on the top of her head, then slides down a bit on his seat, and she cuddles a little bit more into him.

"Ok love," he says. "You can relax now, I got you." 

And although Aurora doesn't answer, she knows he does. 

She doesn't need Harry to wake her up. 

Her brain drifts back to consciousness by itself, slowly making her aware of her surroundings way before the plane is even close to landing. 

She's warm, because of Harry's arms wrapped around her shoulders, but also because of his jacket covering her body. Her face is pressed against his shirt, and once again she's breathing from his skin. He still smells good — like a fresh shower — but now it's also mixed with a little bit of sweat, so it's somehow even better than before. 

It's hot. He's hot. Her insides feel hot.

She's also comfortable — so, so comfortable. It feels like she just took the best nap of her entire life. Like she's enveloped by a sense of calm and peace, a feeling that she doesn't want at all to end. Snuggled into his chest while his fingers keep playing with her hair, tracing random patterns on the back of her head. The movements are sweet, sweet enough to tempt her to go back to sleep. And she almost does. 

Except she can't. Not anymore. 

Because above all that, she can tell she's also kind of desperate. Clingy. Needy. Hugging his waist as if their flight landing in Italy depended on how tight her grip is. Both of her legs over his left thigh. His strong, firm thigh. She's holding onto him like a baby koala. A troubled one. A baby koala that's craving to be held by someone. Anyone. And as if she's terrified of the idea of being left behind while her mind shuts off from the real world. 

And maybe she is. Who knows.

She always liked to cuddle, and she hasn't properly cuddled in a really long time, so it's not a surprise. Still, it very quickly becomes embarrassing, and certainly not how Harry imagined things to go when, earlier in the airport, he offered his shoulder for her to take a quick nap. 

He offered his shoulder, not his entire body, for fucks sake!

So, against all wishes, Aurora stirs and groans — mostly because her mind is battling between sleeping for just two more minutes or acknowledging the reality of the world she's in — then pulls away from him. 

"Hmm…" She takes her hands up to her face, and rubs the last traces of sleepiness away from her puffy eyes, then sits back on her seat. "What time is it?" 

Next to her, Harry moves as well, withdrawing his arms from around her shoulders and placing his hands on his lap. 

"Must be around ten thirty now… Last time I checked was ten fifteen."

He sounds calm, so calm that she can't make any emotion out of his voice, so she turns her head to look at him.

Harry looks fully awake. Well rested. Peaceful. Soft. The only sign of him turning into her personal pillow are the wrinkles all over his shirt, but everything else looks… Perfect. Like heaven. He looks like heaven.   

"Hi…" He curls one side of his mouth up, and Aurora smiles, too.

"Hi…"

Only then it occurs to her that she's been staring at him, and she looks away, taking her hands to smooth out her hair then fix her dress.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nods, and takes his jacket off, instead using it like a blanket to cover her chest.

"Um, yeah… I did. Thanks. And thanks for… You know… Letting me crush on you? I mean, it probably wasn't comfortable for you, so… Yeah, thanks."

Harry scoffs, shuffling down on his seat and spreading his legs as wide open as he can. 

"Are you kidding me?" He takes both arms up and places his hands behind his head, resting on top of the palm of his hands. "You're a great cuddler. Went straight to my top five of all time."

The playfulness is clear in his words, which is why Aurora chuckles. Still, one question is loud and clear inside her mind: who are the other four great cuddlers? And most importantly, why isn't she his favorite one? 

The thoughts bring an uncomfortable feeling to her stomach, and she shifts on her seat. 

"That's kind of you to say, but you should see me during winter in the middle of the night… I'm like a baby koala and it's not a very pretty sight." 

"Huh." He smirks, and lifts his eyebrows. "Is that an offer?"

Aurora snorts and rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks burn before she looks away. "Shut up."

Harry laughs, and just like that, everything between them goes back to normal. 

Getting into conversation with him is easy. Neither of them have seen their friends in a while, so they distract themselves by reminiscing old stories and laughing at silly things they used to do together. They also talk about Italy, about how neither of them have been to the country before, and how it's been a dream of both of them. They bond over small details, and find connections over silly things. And it's exactly what Aurora needs, as she finds out after minutes and minutes of light conversation and genuine giggles. 

It is only when they're about to land that her face falls again. 

Fully awake, the airplane movements become way more obvious than they did when taking off. And as soon as the belt sign goes on, and the pilot announces they're about to descend to Naples, Aurora's heartbeat speeds up.

She straightens up and leans her back fully against her seat, looking through the window at the bright sky. 

"Are you ok?" Harry asks. 

"Mhm…" She nods, and doesn't take her eyes off from the view. "Just… I don't like this part very much, that's all."

"Wanna hold my hand?" 

It is a nice offer, but one she doesn't think she should accept. So she doesn't. And as the plane gets closer and closer to land, every movement becomes even more clear. When it shakes, when it turns, when it's getting ready to touch the ground. 

She holds herself until the last minute. She holds herself tightly and firmly. Until it becomes too much, and one specific up and down of the airplane has her reaching for his hand.

It's like Harry is already waiting for her, to be honest, because she finds him quickly. Her sweaty and cold palm meets his warm one, and she turns her head to look at him. 

He's already watching her, and as soon as their eyes meet, his face lights up with a smile. 

Her belly quivers, and her chest tightens. 

"It'll be over in a minute," he says, squeezing her hand.

She nods, and swallows down, because it's the only thing she can do right now. She knows what he's talking about, and she knows it's true — they'll land, and everything will pass. 

Although something tells her that, whatever she's feeling right now, will not go away. It won't be over in a minute. It won't be over even when they're out and away from the plane. 

In fact, she's starting to believe that, as soon as Harry is next to her, looking at her like that, the fluttering in her stomach will never go away. 

if you've made it here, say caramel coffee :')

also, thank you for reading.

dani :)

PART THREE

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

[melodygatesauthor]

Goodnight, Princess

Yandere Dad's Best Friend - Santiago Garcia X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - For @romana-after-dark's Dead Dove December event!

PLEASE READ TAGS/DISCLAIMERS/WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS FIC. THERE ARE DARK THEMES!

Summary

Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

This fic was written in first person from Santiago's perspective. I know that's not normally something I do, but if you give it a chance I think you'll like it hehe <3

Tags/Warnings

NSFW, non-con, dubious consent, rape, sex, unprotected sex, praise kink, masturbation, obsessive behavior, possessiveness, porn with some plot, smut, creampie, breeding kink if you squint, non-consensual somnophilia, intoxication, implied murder, dad's best friend, age gap, voyeurism, hidden cameras. DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT (that means that what you see in the tags WILL be in the fic, don't act surprised when you get exactly what you were warned about.)

Word Count: 5.7k

I should’ve put a stop to it the second I realized it was you on the other side of that wall.

Don’t ask me how I knew. A good guess? A hunch? Maybe I’d known you so long that I could tell, based on some deep ingrained instinct, exactly what your lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. You sucked on it like you knew what you were doing, like it wasn’t a challenge for you to take something so big in that pretty little mouth.

I recognized the sound of your moans almost right away. The hum of your voice when you started sucking my dick was the same sound you made at dinner the other night when you popped a spoonful of mashed potatoes in your mouth. Does your dad know you’re doing this? Do you care? Do you ever worry about what he might say if he finds out?

Don’t worry princess, I'll keep your secret. 

Our secret.

I bet you never thought I would find out about your slutty little side job. To be entirely honest, I didn’t think I’d find you working at a place like this. If you know me at all, and I know for a fact that you do, then you’d know I’m a lonely man. Years of serving in the military and the endless night terrors have made it difficult to find any sort of real relationship, so I’ve given up. That doesn’t mean I don’t still have needs, sweetheart.

Everybody jerks off, and I’m no exception. I don’t even know how many nights I’ve been in my room, cock in hand while I watch some crappy porno to get myself off. Every once in a while though, I like to treat myself to a little something more. Most people treat themselves to some kind of dessert, or a nice bottle of wine, but I like to treat myself to a night at Club BJ where all the dirty men go to get their rocks off.

I never thought I’d find you there.

Not a chance in hell did I think for even a second that you would be sucking random cocks on the other side of a gloryhole to earn a few extra bucks. You’re so good at it though, princess. How did you learn to swirl your tongue like that? Hm? Was it all the boys at college who taught you how to do that? Did they tell you what a pretty little girl you are while your lips were stretched around them?

They better have. They better have said thank you when they finished all over that beautiful face too.

I couldn’t speak to you. I couldn’t let you know it was me on the other side of that wall, so I hope the $200 tip I left you gets the point across. 

When I got home tonight, you were running through my mind like a fucking hamster on a wheel. I’m not sure what to do now, but I can’t shake how bad I want to go back to the club for another round. I’d pay thousands, probably even tens of thousands, just to have more…

But I can’t do that. Not to you, and not to your dad.

That was the first and only time I’m going to know what it’s like to feel you sucking my cock.

—

There’s no possible way for you to know what you do to me, well, for you to know that it was me on the other side of the hole that you were making feel so fucking good. I’m coming back again, despite promising I wouldn’t. I’ve been trying so hard to let it go, but I fucking can’t. You’re like a goddamn siren luring me back to that shithole, and I can’t resist your call.

I’ll be back on Friday, because that’s the night they set the girls up with their asses sticking out through the wall. I would assume the club has you bent over some kind of table on the other side of that wall? I’m not sure, but Friday can’t come soon enough. I feel like I need you.

Maybe if you hadn’t looked at me the way you did when I saw you today at your dad’s for dinner. Were you looking at me like that on purpose, sweetheart? I mean, you must be…right? Or have I completely lost my shit?

I probably lost my shit, let’s be honest.

I’ve known your dad since high school. I even helped him beat up a guy that was hitting on your mom back when she and your dad had just started dating. I’m really not a bad guy, and I’ve never looked at you like this. I mean it. But how can I look at you any differently now? How can I look at you any differently after what you did to me? What you did for me.

“Santi, can you pass the butter?” You asked, looking at me, probably no different than usual but I couldn’t think of anything other than those pouty lips wrapped around my dick again.

Did you notice the way my hand shook when I handed you the butter dish? Maybe not, but they were trembling and to be honest it was fucking annoying. I’m a man in his late thirties and I can’t get a grip on the feelings I’m developing for my best friend's goddamn kid. It’s wrong, disgusting, hell I’d kill someone if you were my kid.

But you’re not, and I can’t fucking help it, even though I tried.

Maybe someday, if you ever find out about any of this, I’ll tell you about how much I hated myself (hell, I still hate myself sometimes), when I came home with that post nut clarity. That might’ve been the best blowjob of my life, but I stood in front of my mirror for a good ten minutes trying to tell myself that I’d never go back to that hellhole, Club BJs. I meant it with all my heart when I said it over and over like a mantra.

Now I’m stuck though. I’m stuck thinking about you bent over with a wall separating the top half of your body from the bottom with countless men fucking you until you’re so full of cum you looked like a damn overstuffed pastry. You deserve to feel good. You deserve to have at least one of those men be someone that cares about you.

I guess I’ll have to be the one to do it. I guess this is how I’ll justify doing something I know I shouldn’t.

I’ll see you on Friday, princess.

—

It makes me feel a little bit better to know that every man in there is at least checked for STDs before he gets to fuck you. Surely you wouldn’t have signed up to work at a place like this if they weren’t. You’re smart, you’ve always been so smart. It’s one of the things I admire most about you.

Still not clever enough to know that I was one of those men who stood behind you that night. In fact, I was your last customer of the night. Your pussy was so puffy and swollen, those guys really stretched you out and fucked you good didn’t they? Don’t worry, princess, I took good care of you and gave your little hole a break. I won’t lie, it took everything in me not to use you the way they did, but I’ll do that another time.

Tonight I was on my knees for you, grabbing onto both of your asscheeks and spreading you out so I could clean up the mess those filthy men made of my little princess. You sounded so surprised, I heard you gasp, when I started eating you out. Did you like that? It sounded like you did. I could feel your thighs shaking and at some point you even started rocking back and forth like you wanted more.

Maybe you wanted me to fuck you. Were you hoping that the mystery man on the other side of the wall would clean you up and then fuck his own cum into you too? Or maybe you were happy to have the break. Either way, I licked your swollen clit until I could hear your pretty moans on the other side and feel your cunt throbbing against my tongue. Your slick tastes so good sweetheart, can’t believe you made something so delicious all by yourself.

“You’re not going to fuck me?” You asked me. I could almost hear the desperation in your voice, like you were begging me to come back and take you.

“No.” I said firmly, faking a deeper voice than my own.

Next time I will though, don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll fuck you so good you won’t want anyone else.

—

The same night I ate you out I rushed home to jerk off. It sounds crude to say, but fuck I couldn’t help it. The taste of your pussy was still on my lips. I could still smell you soaked into the stubble on my chin and upper lip. I’m making a mental note to snag a pair of your panties when I come over for the barbecue at your dad’s tomorrow night. Maybe that will help get me through this mess I’m in. Maybe it will help me stop this shit.

I know I can’t keep doing this, but the feeling I get when I’m scrolling through your instagram photos from last summer in your bikini with my cock squeezed in my hand is incredible. I’m looking at those perfect tits hidden beneath such a thin layer of fabric, and your pretty rear is barely covered at all.

When I came it’s like I was possessed, blowing up a picture of your face just so I could imagine myself coating it in all of me. I don’t even really want to talk about how hard it was to clean that mess off my phone.

I feel like I’m losing myself in the depraved thoughts and fantasies I’m having of you. I woke up with soaked sheets and I thought I fucking pissed myself, but I didn’t, it was…something else. I’d dreamt of you. I can’t remember exactly what was happening in that dream, but it must’ve been good, and I’m annoyed that I still can’t remember what it was about.

—

A small part of me, the part of me that still had some morals left, was hoping you’d be working your day job. (honestly I can’t even remember what your day job is, aren’t you a housekeeper? Or a waitress or something?) At least if you were working I wouldn’t have to see you. I wouldn’t have to think about you more than I already was. Not to mention, I wouldn’t have had to sit there and watch you laugh with your ‘friend’ that you’d invited over.

You told your dad when you introduced him, “we’re just friends dad.”

You said it with such an attitude that both your dad and I knew better. You might’ve thought you were just friends, but that guy wanted more, and I knew you were going to give it to him. I could tell by the way you looked at him when you thought no one was paying attention.

I bet you didn’t think I’d hear you both making out in your room that night, but your moans call me now like a moth to a flame. The other barbecue guests had gone home, and your dad was drunk and passed out in his recliner, and I heard you faintly over the hum of the crappy reality show on tv. I didn’t pause the show, I didn’t want to wake up your dad, so I went upstairs silently, masked by the sound on the tv.

Initially, I wanted to walk in there and rip this kid off of you, giving him a few vicious but empty threats before sending him on his way with his tail between his legs. Your voice stopped me in my tracks though.

“Shh, I don’t want my dad to hear us,” you whispered, followed by a sweet giggle.

He won’t, princess. I thought, as though it were me you were talking to and not this loser.

You’d left your bedroom door open, per your dad’s request, such a good little girl. Despite being a grown woman, you still did what your daddy told you, and that’s the only reason I was able to hide in the bathroom and hear you get fucked while I jerked off and imagined I was with you instead of…whatever the fuck his name is.

“Oh god!” You whined, making my body shudder.

That guy doesn’t talk much, and that made it all the easier for me to imagine myself in his place.

When you said, “mm, harder, please…”

I was right there to say, “anything you want, sweetheart.”

I tried to move my hand in time with the light thump of your bed against the wall. It helped. What didn’t help was the fact that I could tell how little you were enjoying yourself. You were making the same sounds you made when you were ass out at the gloryhole. I knew I could do better, I knew I could make your body shake with pleasure like when I was kneeling down behind you with my tongue working overtime on your sensitive clit.

You were pretty good at faking it though, good enough that I was a leaking mess, precum dripping all down my shaft while I worked myself behind the wall your bedroom shared with the bathroom. I really wanted to go in there, tell that guy to get lost and give you the night of your life, but I didn’t. Instead I stood there, spilling a few globs of cum into some toilet paper and calling it good enough.

I was quick to head back downstairs before you even knew I was up there in the first place. That guy had the audacity to say goodnight to me in the kitchen on his way out the door. I let that go pretty quickly because then it was just you and me alone in the kitchen while your dad slept soundly in the living room.

You have no idea how badly I wanted to ask you for the pleasure of taking care of you, of making sure that you got off too, but I bit my tongue. Instead we made small talk about how your college was going and you asked me about Benny, Frankie and Will. 

For a moment I had forgotten about all the things that transpired between us, or that I’d done while thinking about you, and you were just my best friend’s kid again. We were just two people who had known each other for a long time, catching up and making small talk. Then you had to bend over in your shorts, and my cock ignored its usual refractory period to spring alive and nag for attention again.

“You okay, Santi?” You’d asked so innocently, as if I didn’t know what that mouth was capable of, or what that body could take.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

I’m not fucking fine, but that doesn’t matter.

—

You slept like a rock that night, not even stirring in the slightest when I grabbed your panties out of your hamper by the closet. They didn’t look particularly fancy, so I assume you won’t miss them, will you? Doesn’t matter anyway, you’d never expect that I’m the one who took them.

I can’t even begin to tell you how disgusting I felt when I got home the next morning and I had placed your panties on my bed in front of me like a prize I’d won. I think I stared at them for at least a full ten minutes before I picked them up again and put them in my nightstand. I’ve never been a “panty sniffer” and I tried to convince myself that just knowing I had them in my possession was enough.

Have you ever read The Tell-Tale Heart? I remember when I was in high school I had to, and it stuck with me for some reason. Your underwear in my nightstand reminded me of that story in some ways. It’s like all I could hear were your moans in my ears and no matter where I went in the house the temptation to smell the remnants of your cunt on that fabric was following me.

So finally, here I am, two weeks after you first sucked my cock, and I can shamefully admit that I did it. I smelled them, and sweetheart, you smell so much better without all that cum inside of you. Of course the panties can’t compare to the real thing, which I don’t know if I’ll ever smell without six loads of spend inside, but god I hope I get the privilege one day.

Or maybe I hope I don’t.

I’m still so torn between the fact that you’re my best friend’s kid, and the way I want to bury my dick so far in that pretty little cunt that you’re seeing stars.

—

I was first in line tonight. It’s Friday night so your ass was out again and untouched this time. You weren’t wet yet which excited me for some reason. It meant I got to have the honors of making you nice and slick.

My hand looks so big against your ass, princess. I wish I could show you. That was me who rubbed your clit, making you shake and whine for more on the other side of the wall. I’m the one who slipped my thick middle finger in that greedy little hole, and then my index finger, and then the ring finger.

I’m guessing you liked it based on how slippery you got, and how much you moaned on the other side. Do you know how dedicated your customers are? One of them got pissed at me for taking too long with you. I can’t say I blame them, your pussy is perfect sweetheart.

God the feeling of sliding my dick between those pretty pussy lips is like nothing I’ve ever felt. As I bottomed out, I felt your walls were squeezing around me like you wanted me deeper, so of course I pushed in more, all the way until I couldn’t go further. You gasped like you hadn’t felt a hundred dicks inside you before mine. 

I slid back again and slammed into you. I heard you begging me to keeping going, and saying, “fuck you’re good, holy shit!”

It was so hard not to say all the filthy things I wanted to when I fucked you, princess. I wanted to tell you how good you looked like that, pussy lips split around my cock like it wanted to swallow me whole. I wanted to ask you if you would like me to stick my thumb in your ass but decided to just try it anyway and see how you reacted.

You liked it.

At least it seemed like you did, your cunt clamped down around my dick like a damn vice grip the moment my thumb popped through your tight little hole. Did you like having something in your ass sweetheart? It’s shocking how tight you are, given how often I know you’re getting fucked. Some of the guys coming in behind me were big, some even bigger than me, but you don’t like them as much as you do when I fuck you, right? Of course not, because you don’t sound like that when you’re with them.

I caught a small glimpse of your eye through the hole. There was a small gap between the wall and your hips and you were looking at the same time I was. Did you see me? Did you have time to realize who I was? Did you come right then and there because you liked the idea of your dad’s best friend fucking you until you were too spent for anyone else?

Your orgasm forced me to come at the same time you did. I can’t even begin to tell you what it felt like to spill my load inside of you like I’d wanted to for so long. I remember so clearly being pushed up against your ass, pulling my thumb out of your hole so I could squeeze your hips and pull you over my dick further. It’s like I was willing every ounce of it to fill you up so full that no one else could. It’s like I was trying to make sure that when you look in the mirror a few months from now, you’ll remember the feeling of the man who fucked a baby into you.

I’m not an idiot. Well, I am, but I know that you’re on birth control. I know that no matter how many times I fuck you, the chances of you actually getting pregant are slim, not that I’d want to get you pregnant anyway. That would be too much, and I don’t want to go too far.

I’m not going to go too far.

—

I went to your house today.

I already had an excuse planned if I somehow got caught while you and your dad were out. If you or your father saw me, I’d say I came back for my hat. It’s not a total lie, I did leave my hat behind, but neither of you needed to know it was on purpose.

Do you realize how much dust has collected on the little stuffed bear you have on the shelf facing directly across from your bed, sweetheart? I doubt it, but it does make for the perfect place to put the small camera I bought.

I feel so fucking gross I can hardly stand to look at myself. But I can’t stand not to watch you touch yourself either. The glory hole is great, but I want to see that pretty face when you’re coming so hard you can’t breathe right, and I can’t do that when I’m on the other side of a fucking wall can I?

Seeing you later that night while I was at my own house, fist closed around my cock and watching you play with yourself is worth all the self loathing in the world. I had the camera feed pulled up on my laptop, and I could see you walking over to your dresser. God, what an array of toys you have. Do you have all those toys because you like them? Or is it because you haven’t found someone who knows their way around your body yet?

If it’s the latter, I promise you won’t need those things once I’m done with you.

Fuck, princess. The one you picked out is so damn big. I’ve seen you fit some pretty big cocks in that little hole, but I was shocked to see you squeezing lube around the head of that thing and gliding it over your pussy lips. You took a deep breath. Does it hurt to take such a fat silicone dick like that? 

Fuck, I’m glad I put the camera where I did. Who had you so wet like that? Hm? Were you thinking about anyone in particular? Can you even get that entire dildo in there? I hated to admit how much I liked watching you struggle. My cock leaked so fucking much I thought I was going to come too fast, but I kept it together.

You finally pushed it in, and I’m so damn proud of you princess. You had a really hard time going all the way though, didn’t you? That tight little pussy of yours was stretched to its limit and you were only halfway in there. Why do you even have a dildo that size if you can’t get it all the way in your cunt? Are you trying to stretch yourself out for someone? You don’t have to stretch yourself for me, I’d be happy to take care of that for you myself.

I watched you push it in even more, I was so focused on the furrow of your turned up brow and the way you bit your lip while I stared. We both exhaled the moment you managed to fit the entire thing in. Your eyes rolled back like it was the best thing you’d ever felt. You really do enjoy being stuffed full, don’t you, sweetheart?

You started fucking yourself with it, the sounds of your wet cunt hit my ears like the sweetest music I’d ever heard. I stroked myself in time with your movements, my eyes focused right on your face, and my cock throbbed every time you moaned. Wasn’t your dad home tonight? Shouldn’t you be a bit quieter when you’re doing stuff like that? Maybe you just don’t care if he hears you.

You started fucking yourself faster so of course I was jerking myself harder, trying to keep up with you without losing it too quickly. It didn’t take long for you to come though. Did you like the feeling of that toy that much? You gushed around it, you choked back some moans but several other soft whimpers escaped, filling your room and hitting my ears through the camera feed. I came too, coating my knuckles and my stomach with so much cum I didn’t know I was even capable of producing that much.

Why’d you have to ruin it? Huh?

It was such a good fucking orgasm for both of us, and then I heard you say a name. It wasn’t my name though, was it, princess? I don’t know why that bothers me so fucking much. Maybe it’s because in some twisted way I’ve managed to convince myself that you were putting on that private show just for me. So if you did do it for me, then I don’t want to hear you saying some other guy’s name while you’re fucking your self like that sweetheart. 

I just don’t.

—

I lost it today.

I really fucking lost it today, princess.

I found that guy. You know the one who fucked you the other night while I jerked off in the bathroom? That ‘friend’ of yours? The one whose name you called out instead of mine?

I found him.

I…

—

Did you miss me, sweetheart? I’m sorry, but I had to leave for a while, at least until things quieted down, and until you weren’t sad anymore. I know I should feel bad, but I don’t. I would probably do it again a thousand times if I had to.

You seemed fine during dinner at your dad’s tonight. I don’t really think you were that upset over the guy anyway, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to hear his name come out of that pretty mouth again. Ever.

After too much wine during (and after) dinner, I carried you upstairs. You never could handle your liquor. Remember when you were only eighteen and I would let you sneak a few shots under your old man’s nose when he wasn’t looking? Your dad was sleeping when I put you down gently in your bed. Your skin is so fucking soft it killed me to step away from you.

Your eyes opened for a moment meeting with mine. I felt my gut stir at the sight of you biting your lip. Why were you doing that to me? Didn’t you know how that would affect me? I couldn’t resist the way you looked at me that night. No one would’ve been able to. It’s not fair for you to put me in that position and expect that I’m just going to walk away. When I think back to it, this was all your fault, princess.

“Santi,” you said sweetly.

I almost climbed on top of you right then when you grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. I almost grabbed your throat and fucked you through your shorts, but I held back.

“What, princess?” I asked you, putting a caring hand on your shoulder, trying to fight back my more primal urges screaming in my head.

You shivered, “I-mm-need something towearto mm-bed,” you slurred out.

I could see the curve of your hip disappear into your too-short shorts. I really don’t want you going out in public wearing things like that. I gave you my shirt to keep you warm. I hope it’s comfortable, sweetheart, I can’t let you go cold, can I? When I leaned down to put it over your head, I felt such a fucking ache in my chest when your face appeared again through the hole. Such a pretty babygirl.

“Thank you,” you smiled contentedly and snuggled into your pillows.

I gulped, “princess,” I whispered, slowly creeping my fingers toward the hem of your shorts where they rested on your waist.

“Hm?” You hummed, but you weren’t really awake anymore, from what I could tell.

When I touched your soft, exposed hip you didn’t stir at all, and when I slipped my fingers underneath your panties, then your shorts, you didn’t make a sound. When I pushed both down to your ankles and dropped them on the floor, you didn’t open your eyes. You didn’t have any fucking clue what I was going to do to you, did you?

Did you feel my fingers when I slipped them between your thighs and felt your little wet cunt? I bet you did, even if you didn’t realize you were feeling it. I thought I would wake you up for sure when I pushed you onto your back and climbed over you. And when that didn’t wake you up, I thought, without a doubt, that when I pulled my cock out and touched it against your slick pussy lips your eyes would shoot open and you’d catch me in the act.

You didn’t though, you stayed deep in your drunken sleep, and I could get away with doing anything I wanted to you.

I’m still wondering what I would’ve done if you’d caught me. What would I say? How would I justify this feeling I craved that only you could satisfy? Would I even need to say anything? Surely you would recognize the feeling of the cock that made you come so good in that glory hole. Surely you’d be desperate for me to keep going.

Being able to look at your face, even if you were asleep, while I slid my dick into your wet heat made my brain stop fucking working. I couldn’t even think. It was like my body just took over, hips rocking into you over and over without a care in the world for how loud the bed was creaking.

You still didn’t feel anything when I dipped down and kissed you, my hips still thrusting slowly against you. This isn’t a Disney movie, and I’m no prince charming, but you’re still my little princess, aren’t you? You’re like my personal sleeping beauty, except my soft kisses didn’t wake you from your drunken slumber.

Thank god.

I kissed all the way down your jawbone until I got to your neck. You’re so soft, and you smell so nice. I kinda wish you’d been awake so I could’ve heard you whimper and whine in my ear. I want to hear you tell me how good it feels to have my cock slamming into your pussy, sweetheart. I want to feel your lips on my neck, my chest, all over my body.

“You take me so well, princess.” I whispered in your ear, hoping that somewhere deep in your dreams you’d hear my words and know I was inside you. “You feel so good, I can’t stop. Never felt anything-so-fucking-g-good-I-f-fuck…”

I came so much that when I pulled back my cum poured out of you as if my cock was a dam holding back a river. I still wonder if I should’ve cleaned you up, but I didn’t. Maybe you’d remember that I was the one who brought you upstairs and you’d put the pieces together.

I can imagine it now, you waking up in the morning with a dried up substance between your thighs. You might not know what it is right away, but I’m sure when you go to the bathroom and notice the hickeys peppered all over your neck, you’ll know that something must’ve happened to you the night before.

I’m not sure what to do now.

I need to have you for myself, that much is clear. The thought of someone else touching you ever again is killing me, so I have to take you. I’ll take you away from all this shit, and I’ll take good care of you. You won’t have to work at that nasty place anymore, I’ll be sure of that. And please don’t worry, princess. When your dad is looking for you, and he needs a friend to help him through the tough times, and the times he’s missing you, I’ll be that friend. He will only be sad for a little while. 

If things go wrong, and someone finds this…well I guess it’s a journal isn’t it? I won’t be able to deny the things I’ve done. I should burn it, but I can’t bring myself to do that. When I read it back, it’s almost like I can relive our time together. Someday I might show you this so you can understand why I did what I had to do, why I have to keep you.

Until then, I hope you sleep well tonight, your final night in your childhood home. I hope you enjoy your last breakfast with your loving dad, and that the two of you don’t argue before he leaves for work. Make sure you give him a kiss on the cheek and tell him you love him, because I’ll be over before he gets home from work.

Goodnight, princess.

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[naomihatake]

In search of freedom (Ch. 4)

4. One step forward

Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

⠀⠀⠀⠀She's been searching for freedom her entire life and everytime she thought it was laying right in front of her eyes, she was mistaken. She was running around the East Blue, seeking herself and her dreams, meeting people she never forgot. No matter how much she traveled, she could only catch a glimpse of peace before realizing everything would crumble at her feet.

⠀⠀⠀⠀Maybe it was destiny that brought her on that ship with three strangers — foolishly, that's what she tried to believe when the moon shined beautifully and hope settled in her chest, squeezed by the same ribcage where feelings were blooming.

Pairing: female!reader x OPLA Zoro Roronoa

Warnings for this chapter: fluff, some angst, alcohol

Word count: 3.8k

Theme song: fic spotify playlist (click on the link)

A/N: Tons of interactions between Zoro and reader. Not a long chapter, but I wanted to offer more insight about the reader's past and the relationship she has with her crewmates. I know they travel from Syrup village to Baratie in a day, but I wanted this exact scenario, so let's say it took a half a day longer ;) Not proofread yet.

The reader is referred to as "Witch" because I have no intentions of using "Y/N".

I'm open for comments and opinions! <3

They spent the rest of the day buying supplies for the journey. With no previous discussions, they all came to the conclusion that Nami would handle the berries, with some opinions from the witch who was used to always saving up money. 

The witch has loads of information and experience about the map of the stars above, so she decided to save Nami from a sleepless night. She already took a nap after they set sail a few hours before dawn, falling asleep after she laid down on the sofa in the cabin. She completely forgot about her wound, too tired to mind the pain at that time, as if she's got hit in the head again. 

Now, she was purposely ignoring the ache. She analyzed the stars for long enough to figure out where they were heading. From Zoro's perspective, the way she counted the stars and figured out the cardinal points was witchy. Realistically, he knew that Nami must've had the same way of figuring out how to sail during the night and not only her, but other sailors as well. 

The witch sat on the deck, her back resting against the mast, her head tilted back to gaze up at the stars. The wound stung and it was uncomfortable, but she didn't want to bother herself with cleaning it up. Also, she had no clue where some bandages might be, and she didn't have the energy to go around and ask about it. 

Meanwhile, Zoro knocked two times at Nami's door, opening it after receiving a sign he could enter. The navigator was sitting on one of the hanging beds in the room with some notes and maps in her lap. 

"Do you know where's some first aid kit?" Zoro asked. 

"Hm?" she raised her head at him, frowning. "Did you trip after drinking too much booze and got hurt?" 

He rolled his eyes with a sigh. 

"I didn't even drink today. Just tell me where it is." 

"Should note it down in the calendar," she scoffed with a smile. "There should be one in the chest over there," she pointed at it by tilting her head. 

In the corner of the room, under a small desk, was the chest she mentioned. He opened it and found what he was searching for. 

"Oh," he heard Nami whispering. 

When he looked at her from where he was crouching, she had a shit-eating grin on her face. 

"What?" 

He was absolutely clueless. The most oblivious man Nami has ever seen and, for the record, they were all oblivious as fuck. 

"Nothing," she smiled innocently. 

What is she up to? Zoro wondered. 

With the first aid kit box in his hand, he got out of the room and walked back to the deck, where the same woman stargazed. His hand was still resting on the hilt of his sword while he stomped on the wooden planks. She hasn't moved one inch, except for the gentle smile that tugged at her lips. 

The only source of light was a gas lamp on a barrel close to her and she glowed. He stopped in his tracks to gaze at her the same way she looked up at the sky and he realized quickly that his lungs stopped  functioning. 

I'll need some booze after this. 

He let the kit fall in her lap and he was surprised by the lack of discomfort she showed at his sudden appearance. Each time someone came from behind, he saw her step away or react in some kind of way, be it a grimace on her face or a sharp inhale. 

"What's this for?" 

"Take a guess," he shook his head. 

She was impossible. Did she do it intentionally? 

"Shit, I completely forgot about the bandana," her eyes widened in surprise. 

She undid the knot of said material as fast as she could, inhaling through her teeth at the sharp pain. 

Only then he noticed an unopened bottle of something — he hoped it would sting his throat — sitting to her other side. He sat cross legged and leaned in over her legs to wrap his fingers around the bottle, tugging with his teeth at the cork. 

"That was mine," he heard a faint voice complaining. 

"It was."

He hid the smirk threatening to show on his face by placing the bottle at his lips, taking some long gulps. The alcohol stung so pleasantly against his tongue and he anticipated a sense of calm once he'd drink enough. 

A restrained hiss got his attention. The witch's lips were knitted together and she tried to clean her wound with a wet cotton ball — it was alcohol, he guessed. After swallowing hard, she continued to tap the skin lightly. Her other hand was digging into her thigh, distracting her with another kind of ache. She was obviously concentrating, the reason why she didn't spit out smart remarks at him. 

Zoro sighed heavily and let the bottle down with a low thud. 

"Will you need stitches?"

"No," she muttered. 

If she wouldn't have been hurt, her face would've looked almost cute. 

Since when did he start thinking that way about people? It must be the booze. 

She seemed relieved when she finished. The next step was to apply some ointment, which was less troubling. 

Then, came the impossible task: wrapping her wound with one hand. Since her other upper arm was hurt, she couldn't do it any other way. The wheels before her eyes worked well enough — certainly, there were a few ways she could do that. 

It couldn't be that hard, right? 

The swordsman by her side achieved inhuman abilities, because telepathy wasn't something that happened naturally. She needed help dressing the wound. 

The real issue was will she ask for help? 

He didn't know exactly why he wanted to hear her say something. Anything. The smallest word leaving her lips would sound like a yes in his head and he would act accordingly with the alcohol swimming through his veins. 

It wasn't in his nature to be so calculated. Nonetheless, exceptions always existed. 

He didn't need to be proud about helping her. No, it was far from that. He had another kind of pride and it settled in the scabbards still holding his swords at his hip. Zoro wanted to see how far she'd go until she realized that asking for help wasn't a sin. 

"Um," her lips parted. 

"Give me the bandages."

He opened his hand for her to place the white material in it. 

"I wanted to say that you owe me a bottle of booze," she blinked up at him confused. 

He didn't wait for her to give him the bandages, instead, he took them by himself and positioned himself a bit closer. Suddenly, the alcohol seeping in his bones helped more than he guessed the first time he saw the bottle. 

Was he holding back his usual strength at that moment? There were no coherent thoughts in his head while he wrapped the white material around her upper arm as gentle as he was capable of. Zoro avoided grazing his fingertips over her skin, but it was impossible any other way, so he found himself in a weird stance: his hand would hold her arm still from time to time while he rolled the bandages. 

A cruel mistake was to look into her eyes, which he unfortunately did. The witch was also looking at him. Probably, he should be more grateful about the way her intense gaze didn't falter when it met his own, even if it made his stomach tingle. 

He drank too much. Or too little. 

There was one way to find out and that would be taking another bottle to drown down his throat. 

He was never the one to look away first, be it an enemy or a friendly staring contest. However, he failed that time. 

There must've been some potion in that bottle. Otherwise, there was no explanation. 

"Thank you." 

It was the second time she thanked him in a day. The swordsman didn't see much in these things, but he was genuinely intrigued about the nature of his own gestures. As someone used to actions, questions sounded pointless in between his thoughts. Then, why did he suddenly ask instead of straight up finding out the answer? 

Why did he do these things without being asked to? 

"Sure," he let out softer than it was meant to be. 

He got up and headed to the galley to grab two more bottles of alcohol. 

There was a different feeling than the usual duty he felt about people. She didn't need his protection or help, she could perfectly do it all on her own. She skillfully tossed knives through the air and was awfully proud about her abilities, a confident smile on her face. 

Zoro never asked, but he guessed she was part of that world long before they appeared in her life. It wasn't possible to follow the rules of the sea unless you sailed before and she conquered the power of water itself. 

And the strength of his heart on top of that. 

"Zoro!" Luffy's enthusiastic voice beamed. "Let's learn the stars."

"What?" 

Wasn't that the reason why Nami and the witch were on that ship? They already knew a lot. 

"It's fun! I didn't know there were bears in the night sky!" 

"Of course there aren't bears in the sky!" Usopp commented. 

"They're just constellations, Luffy," the woman chuckled. 

Both of them came to her like curious owls with big eyes, begging her to show them some stars; now, all of them sat on the deck. Of course their supposed captain would learn about anything only to forget half of it the next minute, but the intention mattered, right? 

She didn't expect the swordsman to accept Luffy's invitation, but he did so, sitting in the same place he did a minute ago. Only the booze would determine whether or not he'd have enough patience to concentrate. 

"Why is it called Ursa Major? Is there another one?" Usopp turned his head. 

"Yes: Ursa Minor," she pointed her index finger at the sky above. "The Ursa Major  is there, right? They look the same, but the other one is smaller."

The sky was filled with stars and there were so many of them, it was almost impossible to spot a specific one. They sparkled beautifully, as if they smiled back at the pirates eager to learn their names. 

"Where, where?" Luffy looked up, confused. 

The witch moved her hand to the side and pointed at another constellation. 

"Search for the same figure, but in smaller form."

"Fount it!" Luffy and Usopp exclaimed in unison. 

She let out another soft chuckle and the swordsman paid more attention to that lovely sound than the stars she mentioned. 

"See the tip of the bear's tail? That is its brightest star and it's called the North Star. Whenever you point towards the spot on the horizon directly below it, it means you're pointing north." 

Luffy's lips were opened in surprise while he looked at the sky. 

"So you're also a navigator!"

"Just because I'm better than Zoro at directions doesn't mean I'm a navigator," she joked lightly. 

"I think you're overdoing it," the swordsman huffed.

"That's why you were so late?!" 

Usopp was already cackling. 

"The mansion was in front of your eyes and you still decided to go the other way," she nudged at him. 

"I was just checking around," he muttered between gritted teeth. 

"You're so bad at lying, Zoro," Luffy teased him. 

Their captain and the sniper were laughing colorfully, until tears gathered on top of their lashes. The sound was accompanied by the same reaction coming from the witch, who was unaware of the palm she placed on Zoro's shoulder, while the other hand was holding onto her stomach. 

However, the swordsman was hyper aware about it. It warmed him up almost as pleasantly as the booze, but it was a foreign sensation settling into his stomach. Those gentle fingers that wielded knives and had been dirtied by blood touched him and he didn't have an ounce of will within to push her away. 

It's just a touch, what am I getting so worked up for? 

"We just need to find a musician and the crew is complete!" Luffy smiled brightly. 

The witch's hand dropped from Zoro's shoulder, gripping at one of the bottles he brought with him. 

"I can sing," she whispered as if it was meant to be only for herself. 

"I can dance!" Usopp grinned. "Guys, you have no idea how I was the star of countless parties! Captain, you have everyone you need right here." 

Before the Straw Hat could say anything, the witch opened her bottle. 

"With a guitar, Luffy, otherwise I won't start disturbing the fish in the sea," she let out a short sigh. 

"If we find a guitar at our next destination, do you promise to play the guitar?" 

The puppy eyes boring holes into her forehead couldn't be ignored so easily. Defeated, she nodded and took a long gulp from the bottle. 

"Great!" 

And with that, Luffy got to his feet, his chin tilted down to look at his friends. 

"Good luck with the night watch."

"I'll come to watch over you, Luffy," Usopp solemnly touched his heart. "Who knows when an enemy will sneak in. I need to be prepared and protect my friends!"

"So tonight we find out about your snoring habits," the swordsman arched his eyebrow. 

"I don't snore!" he frowned while he walked side by side with Luffy. 

"Good night, you two," the witch smiled in their direction. 

Zoro continued drinking from the bottle in his hand, the first one he picked up already empty, sitting by his side. The witch had far less resistance than him and none of them got some well deserved sleep in the last two days. He acknowledged the proximity between him and the woman sitting at his right, but annoyance crawled up his throat — why he wanted to be near her was beyond him. 

"For how long have you been on a ship?" he wondered out loud.

"Is it obvious it's not my first time?" 

They turned towards each other at the same time, locking gazes the same way they did when he bandaged her wound. At least that time there was a plausible and logical reason — one he created on the spot. The second time it happened, he was just pulled towards her like a magnet. 

And maybe they were not exactly opposites nor each other's mirror, but they always found themselves in the presence of the other. 

"This can't be your first journey on the sea," he shrugged. "You're not scared at all."

"Did you just imply that I'm scared of water?" she cocked an eyebrow at him. 

"Then are you scared of land? You were damn anxious back in Syrup Village." 

The witch crossed her arms under her chest in a defensive manner. 

"It was my intuition." 

"You were losing your shit."

His teasing comment received a wide-eyed stare from her. 

"That's not true." 

Her lips were pulled in a thin line right after and she averted her eyes, looking back at the stars. She was searching for the right words to tell him lame stories she was fond of. 

"I'm used to sailing, yeah. Was part of a crew for almost two years and then left because I couldn't find my place there. It was my father's crew."

"So it runs in the family."

"Kind of," a sour smile creeped on her lips. "My mother hated pirates. How come she married one? He didn't become a pirate until years later." 

After another long glance towards a constellation she just noticed, she brought the bottle to her lips and gulped down until half of the bottle was gone. The memories flowing back always left a bad taste in her mouth, a sensation she wanted to fight against with some more alcohol. 

"And you are a pirate."

The conclusion was obvious. 

"I don't think I have to say it out loud, do I?" 

The sad smile on her lips didn't falter. The spoken admission that her mother hated her guts for choosing the same life as her father would've hurt more than the silence that spoke for itself. Memories sucked her into the past like a water vortex in the middle of the sea. 

"What do you mean by 'I'm leaving in the morning?" her mother had furrowed her eyebrows at her. 

The tension could've been cut through with the knife resting against the young girl's hip. She resembled her father too well: they walked the same, they had the same gaze and far too similar weapons. 

Before her mother's eyes wasn't standing a daughter anymore, but a pirate, monsters she hated from the bottom of her heart. Cruel, ruthless, merciless monsters with no hearts. People with egos bigger than their bounties and strength that could wipe away entire islands. 

Demons. 

Her daughter has become a demon. 

"You're talking after your monster of a father," her mother spat out after slapping the table with her palm. 

"We both know he was more humane than you."

"Where did you learn such words from, girl?!"

"You."

The witch was still standing in front of the door with a bag hung over her right shoulder. A merely sixteen years old with fire burning in her irises. 

"He's a criminal and a thief on top of it! A liar! A betrayer!" the woman's voice rose higher, threatening to break glass. 

"Maybe you didn't agree with his living style, but he's never done anything to us! The sea is a battlefield, it's kill or get—"

"I've heard that excuse coming from him countless times, I don't need you to quote that man!"

"If he is just 'a man' for you, just know that he was always more of a father for me than you were a mother."

A sharp sound bounced off the walls and the young witch's cheek stung after the woman's hand flew across her face. Her head turned to the side, but no whimper left her lips. 

"I dare you to say that again. As if you didn't live under my rooftop ever since he became a pirate — a monster." 

The young girl used to be bold even at that time. Her left cheek ached painfully, but it didn't stop the fire from burning. No, it was like pouring gasoline over it, thinking it would stop. 

She turned her head towards her mother and rolled her shoulders back, eyes boring holes into her forehead. 

"He was a better father than you were a mother." 

A stable voice and clear words filled with venom to the brim. She didn't falter, nails digging into her palms as she tried to contain her anger — her hatred. 

"Is that what you wanted to hear? You lack self awareness, mom. You seem to forget about the times when you'd tell me I'll become a failure just like him. You intentionally brush aside the speeches you gave me about how no matter what I wish for, I have to just suck it up and accept the fact that all I will ever be is an obedient girl. I'm not obedient and I'm not a girl — I'm a pirate. No one on the sea cares whether or not I'm a woman."

"These are fairy tales for children! You won't be able to survive for longer than a day. You will come back crawling at me and I'll remind you who was right!" 

"See? Exactly what I was saying. You're just proving my points and yet you cease to realize. Everytime you hit me, everytime you degrade me, every single time when you want to show me you have power over me — all of these are pointless."

A reckless teenager grasping for the first time at the notion of freedom after mourning her deceased father for five days. A flame learning how to burn. 

She made one step closer, the furrow between her eyebrows deepening. 

"Kill me. You've always craved seeing my father dead, didn't you? Why don't you kill me too? Wouldn't that make you happy? I bet it would, since you always acted like it."

Words could hurt and she learnt it from her mother, it seemed like. She's never heard someone use words like she wielded knives better than that woman and that time it backfired. 

Before she even realized it, the bottle her fingers gripped at was almost empty, making it easier for tears to gather in the corners of her eyes. She's been silent for so long and Zoro glanced at her from his peripheral. 

"And him?"

"Been dead for three years. I became a part of his crew right after. It didn't make any sense to continue living in my hometown any longer. They're like a shadow ship — they refused to give the title of Captain to someone else, even if technically the one in command now is the Vice Captain. Whenever they need to make a decision, they think of what their deceased Captain would've done."

The swordsman by her side crossed his arm over his chest and grinned. 

"That's one hell of a loyal crew."

They were my family, even if they would drink late in the night and have awful cooking skills. They would laugh and offer me advice, they taught me what a pirate's pride is about. 

"You still seem regretful."

The witch turned her head towards Zoro and he swore he'd never seen so many emotions flowing in those beautiful eyes of hers. They glowed with golden sparkles hence the gas lamp. There laid honesty and fierceness, a human who turned against its nature and decided to go further. 

"I never regretted leaving. I don't regret any of it. Maybe there were things I shouldn't have said or done. I could've been kinder, less revengeful. If I am to be honest, despite being aware of the consequences and effects of my actions, I don't regret it. It can't be undone and there's no place for apologies when I meant what I said." 

"The crew scolded you."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. Obviously, the crew was formed by men and a few women past twenty. They had more life experience than her. 

"A little bit. They were, indeed, more mature than me," her head turned towards the horizon again. 

Vague and cryptic answers, harder to decipher than Poneglyphs. However, Zoro wasn't an archeologist and he didn't ask for more than she was able to share, which made her shoulder relax. The witch didn't even notice when she tensed up. 

He stretched out his legs from their crossed position and leaned better against the barrel. It seemed like the pirate hunter didn't have any intention of leaving the deck. 

Their shoulders remained close and none of them moved closer or farther away. Both of them were content with burning a little more before admitting the truth even to themselves. 

Tag list: @emelia07 @dimplewonie @tfamidoingwithmylife @murnsondock @the-skys-musical-echo @conspiracy-crows @hallow33nz @ramae17 @gaslysainz @bunntsu @katt58 @katiemrty @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @freyademartel @boofy1998 @ponyboys-sunsets @melsunshine @loveyluv7 @waddlingwanderer

#naomiwrites #in search of freedom #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla zoro x you #opla x reader #one piece #one piece live action #zoro roronoa #zoro #opla zoro #opla x you #op #opla #one piece x reader #one piece live action x reader #zoro imagines #one piece fanfic #opla fanfic

[sebfreak]

Do not change Maomao!

This is the title of this long post. Omg the fanservice we got, the beautiful scenes in which we could see Maomaos happy face. Ahhhh I loved it again.

Make it obivous who he is, right? At this point we all should have a clue and to be honest this scene was also very interesting. The relationship between them is better described with "icy cold". Yeah, you see a smile on Jinshis face but he is more distant towards him.

She and her herbs. Her passion is so real and i can understand her 100%. Herbs are so interesting, I can´t wait to find out more about it. Maomao is a teacher to us and we can learn a lot from her. <3

He is truly a real father. The why I cried a little bit during this scene. This is Maomaos home, she is always welcomed and can go back anytime. He doesn´t have much but he has a lot of love for her. <3

Lol the way he blushed. Jinish-sama everything is written on your face. You can´t hide it anymore lol.

The way everyone blushed when they saw Maomao. It´s really interesting that a little change can activate this reaction and it was really obvious that Jinshi was getting annoyed by it and JEALOUS!!! OH HE IS SO JEALOUS AND REGRETS IT THAT EVERYBODY COULD SEE MAOMAO THIS WAY!!!!

His order was absolutely not a surprise. Now he understands why she puts freckles on her face. XDDDDDDD Oh my man.... aaaahhhhh I love him so much and I love it that he falls for Maomao more and more. My boy you can´t escape anymore but I truly doubt he wants to escape.

This face and we all know that he is planning something that Maomao won´t like. ahahahahahaha XDDDDDDDD

The fanservice was so real in this scene. They really went hard with Jinshi-sama in this scene. BUT I´m not complaining, keep going... I really really like it. (and everybody: when will we get our Jinshini hm? XDDD)

Wasted sex appeal... XDDDDD ah it´s so cute how Maomao doesn´t know it but it makes it so much funnier. XDDD

I bet for Jinshi it´s also very stressful when you can´t behave around people in a normal way without them to lust over you. I know it´s complaining on a very high ground but sometimes even a Jinshi doesn´t want to be reduced on his appearance. But the fact that Maomao explained it with insects made me cry. Oh my dear... XDDDDD

Weeellll my dear Maomao I won´t say it... you have to find it out for yourself but it´s great that she is questioning it because it´s very unnormal for his position or more like it´s something Maomao seems as unnormal.

Go away motherfucker. <---- no respect here. Just.... go away you creeper.... On my Blog and I'm aware of his story but i can't seem to like him, but i am a Person who can respect that people like him but for me there are some things that are not okay and this was way too much in my eyes. his obsession is too much because I look from the childs perspective (MaoMao) and I could understand her traumatic feelings. So don´t come at me and try to convince me to like him. It won´t work.

Oh they really went hard with Jinshis fanservice even in the ending and loved the change here. Beginning it´s dark and gives you a sad aura but after meeting Maomao his world becomes bright and sunny. Oh my gosh I´M NOT CRYING OKAY!!!! ( okay i´m crying)

All in all a very good episode. 10/10 and it was a great start for the second part. Ah, it will be dramatic again and I can´t wait to witness it with you. <3

#kusuriya no hitorigoto #the apothecary diaries #maomao #jinshi #anime #now if you excuse me i´m gonna find my jinshi

[artful-aries]

Prosaic Introductions: Innocent Perspectives (Dottore x Reader)

A part two of my Prosaic Introductions drabble, this time in the point of view of the reader! It can be read as a stand alone though, but you’re missing out on some juicy context without part one. This has been highly requested for some time, so I hope everyone enjoys :3

Word Count: 1.6k

Content Warnings: none

Dottore was by far the strangest man you ever had the pleasure of meeting. His presence brought a chill to any room he stepped into, maintaining a hard distance from anyone and everyone, and he never took off that weird mask. You wondered if he wore it for some medical reason or if perhaps he was self conscious of the top half of his face. Nonetheless, you still could somehow tell whenever his eyes would bore into you with an intensity that could probably put Archons to shame.

On the outside, the Harbinger seemed entirely unapproachable, even dangerous, and yet you found yourself being drawn in by him. Perhaps you were merely a moth drawn to the flame, or more accurately, the fly caught in his web, but you found yourself always throwing caution to the wind when it came to him.

It had been a few weeks since Dottore had given you a cryptic response about making time to see you after he helped chase away a belligerent idiot, something that you found more attractive than was probably morally acceptable. You would go days at a time without seeing the man and wonder if he had gotten busy or simply grown bored of you when he would pop back into your life, like he somehow read your mind and knew you wanted to see him. Given the nature of his role as a Harbinger, part of you wouldn’t be surprised if he somehow could read your mind, but given that he still interacted with you it was reasonable to conclude that he couldn’t read your thoughts. At least, not the embarrassing ones, which in your opinion were the only ones that mattered in this case.

Now you found yourself aimlessly wandering the streets of the market you always preferred to shop at with the tall, cold man in tow. He crept like a shadow as he idly followed you, seemingly wholly content with walking by your side in complete silence.

“So…what was it that brought you to the market today? Did you need more supplies for your research?” You asked politely, taking the opportunity to cast a quick glance at the Harbinger.

The corner of his mouth tapered up ever so slightly, so subtle that you almost wondered if you imagined it as he spoke, “I was not in need of supplies today, (Y/N). I came for other reasons.”

Getting a straight answer out of Dottore was almost like pulling teeth; he seemed to relish in your confusion, a fact which would have been extremely irritating if it was anyone else, but with him it was almost like trying to solve a complicated puzzle, one that you felt like you would feel very rewarded in solving.

You positioned yourself in front of him, walking backwards so that you could continue to face him as you grinned, “What’s the reason you came today then, hm?”

The attempt at being a little flirty was brought to a swift end by your own clumsiness as your back hit a shop’s shelf, making you give a small grunt at the feeling. A piece of pottery on the top shelf rattled at the force, rolling its way to the edge before it dropped off the side, falling swiftly towards your head. You barely had time to react before Dottore swiftly moved closer to you, catching the vase with one hand as he looked at you with what you could only assume to be an amused expression.

“It’s certainly quite fascinating how you’ve managed to survive this long,” Dottore spoke with a hint of mirth in his voice as he gently put the vase back, “You seem to be insistent on getting into all kinds of trouble that requires my intervention.”

The shop keeper, having heard the commotion, stormed up to chastise you both, but upon realizing who you were with, they turned pale and immediately spun on their heels and headed in the opposite direction. Dottore smirked in a way that you were convinced was his way of saying ‘See? I told you so’.

“Well, it’s not my fault you make yourself so dependable,” You teased, but you could feel your face flushing a little bit in embarrassment at your blunder, “At any rate, you still haven’t told me why you’re here. Doesn’t a Harbinger have more pressing matters to attend to than following me around?”

“Perhaps,” He smiled, showing his sharp teeth for a moment as both of you began to aimlessly walk together once more, “But I am here despite my obligations to the Tsaritsa.”

You didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned that the Doctor seemed to be playing hooky with his duties to Snezhnaya, and it didn’t escape your notice that he continued to dance around your question.

Before you could press again, Dottore gave another cryptic answer, “You could say that I’m actively participating in collecting data for research as we speak.”

You gave him an incredulous look, not believing that he was doing anything even remotely close to research. He didn’t even have a notebook or anything, so what could he possibly be researching?

“And what is it that the Doctor is researching this time? Surely it’s something so spectacular that you don’t have to run any tests or take notes,” You replied with a small laugh, believing him to just be testing you to see how gullible you were.

“You,” Dottore said simply, not even casting a glance in your direction, as though it was the most normal response in the world.

…Huh?

You found your next words leaving your mouth before you could stop yourself, “Is that your way of asking me on a date?”

Dottore stopped in his tracks, making you nearly stumble as you stopped mid-gait as you looked at him. He stared at you intently, or at least you assumed so behind his mask. The damn thing kept you from being able to figure out what was going through his head at the moment. Was he shocked? Angry? Embarrassed? You had no clue. All you knew was that he was staring at you like his life depended on it, not moving a muscle.

“A date,” Dottore slowly repeated, more as a statement than a question.

You swallowed hard, clamming up as you worried that you somehow offended the man in front of you. Perhaps it was presumptuous to assume he was even attracted to your gender, let alone you as an individual.

“U-Um, nevermind, it was…I was just-“ You struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation for what you had said that wasn’t just writing it off as a bad joke, but you were drawing a blank.

Then Dottore gave a small chuckle, his arms crossing over his chest as he replied in an amused tone, “You mean a date as in a romantic outing, do you not?”

Archons, you would give anything to die on the spot right now.

“If you’re into that,” You answered, cringing internally at your own wishy-washy response. Why did you have to dig yourself into an even deeper hole?

The silence was dreadful, and you could only stand there and shift awkwardly as Dottore stared you down through his mask. You wish he would say something, anything, if only to break the tense silence. At this point, you wouldn’t even care if he laughed at you if it meant getting past this awkward moment.

“How amusing,” The Harbinger smirked as he stepped closer to you, making you snap out of your internal lamenting of your awkwardness, “Fine then, we shall go on a date, (Y/N). I believe this could produce quite interesting results.”

You gaped at him for a moment before blinking a few times, “Y-You’re serious? You’ll take me on a date?”

You couldn’t believe you had gotten this far with a man who terrified entire nations. At one point you had convinced yourself he was entirely aromantic and asexual with how little he seemed interested in your average interpersonal relationships. Yet here he was, this stoic, indifferent man was agreeing to go on a date with you. If it were anyone else, you would have assumed they agreed as a joke, but Dottore didn’t seem like the type of man to agree to such a thing on mere humor alone.

“I believe you’ll see just how serious I am very soon,” Dottore spoke with a smug look, “Don’t tell me that you’re trying to back out now, hm? It would be a great disappointment to miss this opportunity.”

There was a certain tone in his voice that felt…slightly detached, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. Considering the man was inherently detached from those around him, you simply wrote it off as just his usual cold mannerisms seeping through.

“No, I’m definitely not backing out,” You insisted, your cheeks heating up a little as you looked at him, “So…when will you take me on a date then?”

Dottore hummed at your response, clearly entertained at your embarrassed state, “I believe I’ll leave that as a surprise. Wouldn’t want to ruin all the fun, now would we?”

Before you could protest at how ridiculous that was, Dottore already started walking off, waving to you over his shoulder as he spoke, “Until next time, (Y/N). I look forward to our date.”

“I- Wait, you can’t just- Are you even listening to me?” You called out to him, but it was clear that he had no intention of returning to the conversation as he disappeared into the crowd. If that man didn’t interest you so much, you would have cursed him out by now with how often he left you puzzled and confused at his actions, you were sure of it. With an exasperated sigh, you began walking back home, but there was a bit of a spring in your step that wasn’t there previously. Dottore was a strange man indeed, but perhaps that meant you were even stranger for seeking his affections.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #reader insert #genshin imagine #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #dottore #dottore x reader #il dottore #fluff

[lonelyisamyw-0love]

Another Place, Another Time (Pt. 2)

JakeXFem!Reader, StevenXFem!Reader (Marc in headspace)

Summary: So your best friend is back in your life, and is also not one, not two but three people. Reconnecting with Steven isn’t as easy as you thought, and you gain a new perspective on your childhood.

CW: mentions of the boy’s childhood/abuse/ neglect, wendy is her own warning, swearing, threats of violence, swearing, bad Chicagoan accents, almost definitely railroad sentences, poor job at explaining DID  Beta’d by @saturn-rings-writes 💖 A/N: It’s weird trying to explain DID without getting into the weeds about it. Weird downside of being a clinician. Anyways, Here’s part 2 I hope you like it!  Steven is Orange  Marc is green  Jake is Red

Word Count: ~3k

The only movement in your apartment is the steady rise and fall of Jake’s chest. Your eyes search over his face, reviewing your attempts at first aid and internally patting yourself on the back. The bandages stuck on, and they don’t seem as red and angry in the daylight. How he manages to look like he’s aware of everything even while sleeping is beyond you. His body looks so stiff, is that from whatever happened last night or is this normal for him? Maybe you shouldn’t be watching him sleep on your couch, you muse, but isn’t it good bedside manner to check on a patient? His brows are still furrowed slightly, the bruise on his cheek casts a shadow over his profile, and his lip is still swollen; but hey, at least he isn’t bleeding anymore. Does this man ever relax? He even sleeps tense, arms crossed over his chest protecting himself like a coiled spring. When is he going to wake up? You have questions, and you’re hungry. You let out a groan louder than you intend startling jake awake. ¡puta madre!” He swears, sitting bolt upright, he grabs your shirt in a vice like grip. The suddenness of his movements, startles you as well, causing you to scream, “Shit! Jake it’s me!” You throw your hands up, palms facing him to try and show him you mean no harm. He glares at you a moment, chest heaving before recognition flashes in his eyes and he lets go. “Y/N…lo siento, I thought, I forgot where we were.” He raises an eyebrow at you, “why are you sitting on the floor?” “oh! I was watching you…sleep. To see if you were okay! Not like in a weird way. You were injured and anyways…breakfast? Breakfast sounds good!” You get to your feet and hurry to your kitchen leaving behind a groggy and confused Jake.

Steven? You need new friends hm? What’s wrong with Y/N? She was watching me sleep She does that. Erm well she used to do that Que lo…what do you mean she does that?? She did that when were were young too, if I slept over, I’d wake up and she’d be there. Said she wanted to make sure I was okay while I slept or somethin’ like that

Huffing softly, Jake slowly makes his way off the couch to see you cooking the breakfast burrito he usually orders at the diner while coffee brews. “I um…sorry, about grabbing you earlier. I’m not used to people watching me sleep, not nice ones anyways.” He jokes “y’know, I want to ask what kind of people are watching you sleep at all, but I don’t think I want to know the answer, and Im sorry for staring at you for an hour” “An hour? Y/N what do you mean an hour?!” You wave your spatula dismissively, “Water under the bridge. Anyways, can we talk more about you being this bogo sale of 3 people, one body?" Jake can’t believe what’s more bizarre, him sleeping over at your house after you found him behind a dumpster and waking to you cooking his order that you apparently memorized, the fact that you are so nonchalant about their disorder, or, that you two were actually childhood friends. You hand him his burrito and coffee, “cream is in the fridge, sugar in the bowl and I don’t have your cotija cheese. Sorry” “We aren’t…Im not.”, Jake rolls his eyes deciding there is no point in arguing semantics with you. “Sure fine, we’re a bargain deal. What questions do you have.” He asks as he makes his coffee before following you back to the living room. “Just start from the top, I guess. Explain more of what dissociating disorder is.”

“Dissociative Identity disorder Y/N and it’s…when someone deals with…less than ideal events, sometimes their brains separate it from themselves. It makes “alters” or, like other people to deal with it.” Jake attempts to cobble together an explanation without reliving their past. You nod, trying to follow along, “So something bad happened and now you, Steven and Marc all live like in the same body but aren’t the same person…yes? “Yea, that’s…yea pretty much” “So who gets to do what? Why do you always come to the diner and never either one of them? Can they hear me?” Jake chokes on the coffee he’s been sipping, “woah, Slow down Y/N.” “Sorry, sorry. To be fair I did tell you last night that I had a lot of questions” you laugh “So when you’re, out or talking or…whatever. Are Steven and Marc around?” “The word you’re looking for is ‘fronting’ and only sometimes. We used to keep our lives separate from one another but are trying to work together more like a-like a family.” “So who is who in the family?” Jake chuckles, “to me? Steven is mi hermanito, like a little brother. He can hold his own, but I still worry about him. Marc is the stubborn middle brother who thinks he is right but isn’t. I'm the oldest, the level headed one, the planner. I make sure we’re safe”

Don’t talk about me like that to Y/N! oh now you care what Y/N thinks about you? Shut it Steven, and Jake? The level headed one? Fat chance Mr. Answers-his-problems-with-fists

You look over Jake’s face, mustering up the courage to ask the question that woke up you in the early hours of the morning. “So is Steven is ‘around’ or ‘present’ since your fronting? Is that right? I don’t know how to ask about any of this without sounding like a dick.” Jake chuckles softly, “Si, Steven is here, you can ask if any of us are ‘around’ if that’s easier. Besides, he’s been bothering me since yesterday to speak with you”. “Really?” Jake nods, finishing his coffee “yes really, I can get him for you, if you like.” “I would love that! Could you really get him for me?” You exclaim. However that excitement is diminished as you realize that you asked jake to connect you with Steven like a phone operator. “Wait, that was rude Jake, I don’t want you to think I’m getting rid of you I just-“ “It’s fine Y/N, besides I’ll always be around, you just have to ask” he quips before closing his eyes. You sit and wait for something, anything to happen. “I wish he would’ve told me how this works” you mumble to yourself as Jake’s (Steven’s?) eyes snap open. “Y/N?” Your heart skips a beat. You know that accent, that small upwards lilt at the end of your name having heard it for years in your youth. You study his features, it’s the same face but it’s not. The lifted brows, the light in his eyes, the barely contained energy emanating from him. “S-Steven? Holy…shit is that really you?” You notice, his eyes frantically searching your face as well, as if in disbelief, “Y/N, gods it is you”. He goes to reach out for you which temporarily breaks you from your reverie. “Hold on…Okay if you are StevenI’m going to ask you some questions and we’ll say the answer at the same time? I want to make sure you are who you say you are.” Steven blinks at you a few times before agreeing, “right, yea course Y/N, but it’s been years”, he chuckles nervously, “l-loads of things have happened since we last saw each other”.

What the hell is she doin’? Hush hermano, Steven is being interrogated by Y/N What do you mean interro- Mira

“You’re right, you’re right” you nod in agreement with Steven, who sighs in relief. “Thank you Y/N, I ju-“

“What their secret password was when they were kids?” You fire off, “W-What? Our secret password?” “What did I want to be when I grew up?” “You changed that almost every time I saw you Y/N I don’t-“

“What did my mom always make us for dinner when you came over?” “Y/N I can’t remember those things!“ his voice pinches as his anxiety spikes

Guilt grips you like a vice. If this is Steven, you’ve spent the first 2 minutes grilling him. Sighing, you relent, “I’m sorry, look I just…I need to make sure you’re you y’know? Last question, I swear” You look at him earnestly, “what was the stuffed animal I gave you?” Steven looks up at you, shoulder dropping as his anxiety melts away. Smiling proudly, he answers “Sir Rosser, he was a purple patchwork bunny”

 ¿qué carajo?  that’s …no ..she gave us…

You squint your eyes, “and who knighted Sir Rosser?”  “You did, because you were the ‘lady of the land’. Knighted him with a ruler if I remember right.” Steven replies before he is summarily smashed into the couch from you tackling him “it is you! Steven I’ve missed you! I-I can’t believe it.” Steven hugs back tightly. Ignoring the ache in the body, he grabs fistfuls of your shirt as though you were a lifeline. “Y/N! Oh I’ve missed you so much”

“Steven, what the hell happened to you? We…you said we’d keep in touch after high school, and you just…disappeared. I couldn’t ever get in touch with you. No one knew where you were and your phone was always dead.” you ramble, the sting of losing Steven bubbling back to the surface.

“I-I know. I promised a lot of things and feel like a right twit for all of it Y/N, truly. I want to tell you what has happened and where we went, yea. But I think that’s more Marc’s story to tell. S’not that I don’t want to share, just doesn’t feel right”.

“Fine…you’re right. I mean I guess that’s fair. Still feels like bullshit that I thought you were gone this whole time and you were literally under my nose for the last year.  Steven chuckles softly, “always was good at hiding, Y/N”. “I won’t ask about details but I gotta know. When we were kids, what the hell was going on? Sometimes I would see you every day for a week and then you’d be gone with no explanation. School sucked without you there and, your dad was always vague about what was going on and then you’d be back at my house like nothing happened.” “I uh…its…Marc’s mum she struggled when we were younger. You have to understand love, she had okay days and bad days…and some really bad days. She kicked Marc out of the house once, left him on the front stoop. Poor lad, had a proper fit and I fronted. I wandered to your house and the rest is history”.

You shake your head, “No, Wendy definitely dropped you off at my house that day Steven. That’s what mom said when she called me downstairs.” Steven shakes his head, “Y/N, I may not remember a lot, but I remember that day. Marc’s mum was having a really bad day. I don’t know what happened, but when I fronted, I was outside and alone. You were the only kid I remember even noticing me, so I went and knocked on your door. We needed somewhere safe to go.” he replies quietly.

Your heart begins to hammer in your chest, sickening gears setting into motion as you realize what your friend experienced “Steven? You…weren’t a clumsy child were you? The forgotten meals and disappearing. Oh god, Steven the yelling. Mom always said your family liked the TV loud but…fuck was that Wendy?” Steven casts his eyes down “I think you already know the answer love”. You sit there, trying to quash the bile rising in your throat, the simmering anger at what he experienced and the profound sadness for your friend. Utterly shell-shocked you speak up, “Steven Im so so sorry. I…can you give me a moment please. To sit with that?” “Course love, it’s a lot I suppose” Steven replies, fidgeting with the end of their shirt. You nod getting off the couch and heading to your room, “yea it’s just…hold that thought and ignore the screams.” Steven looks at you bewildered, “screams? why would you-.” Your bedroom door cuts him off before he hears you shout “FUCK! What the FUCK!” stunning him into silence. He stares at the door hearing a string of angry mumbles, sniffles and swears coming from inside your room.

uh lads…d’you think… you never told me (Y/N) gave us that rabbit! Woah ¡cálmese! That’s what your worried about right now? And it’s because Sir Rosser was MY rabbit first! Oye! Los dos- That rabbit…that rabbit was the only thing that felt safe in that house. I thought that she gave me that rabbit on one of her good days oh Marc..mate. I thought you knew.

The door to your room creaks open, as you emerge red faced. “Im sorry about that. I needed to get that out of my system. What she did to you…to all of youse it…I don’t have the words”. You flop unceremoniously onto the couch and look at your friend who seems deep in thought. “Steven? Steven I really am sorry if what I did was insensitive but to know that you...that that was happening next door just…it infuriates me” Steven looks up and offers you a small smile, “s’alright Y/N, it is a lot innit? Nice being able to spend time with you and your mum though.” After a brief pause, Steven smiles at you. “Oh, when you went to your room to uhh” “I had a tantrum Steven, it’s okay. You can say it” You chuckle softly. “Right. While you had your moment I had a chat with Marc, and I think it would do him some good to pop in and talk with you at some point.

Steven, no. whatever you’re trying to do: no. Hermano, best just let Steven have this. He’s trying y’know? Whatever. I haven’t agreed to anything yet.

A few moments pass, and Steven raises his eyebrows at you. Smiling a bit wider, you catch on, “I would love to meet the mysterious man himself. Only when he is good and ready though”. Steven mouths the words ‘Thank You’ to you before addressing you directly. “Great that’s that settled, now! Can we chat bout something else? Its been bloody ages! Hows things?”

“I wish I had something interesting to tell ya Steven, but in all honesty things are pretty boring. I got a degree and graduated second in my class but, then I couldn’t find a career that I could see myself in long term. I can keep a job sure, but it sucks clocking in to somewhere that feels like its stealin’ your friggin’ soul.” You lean your head back on the couch. “So I quit corporate, started working at Hungry Hub while I figure out next move. I’ve been there about 2 years now. Pay is inconsistent and the owner, Bryce sucks but I like it, feels like a little family. Besides, it brought me back to you. I picked up a few hobbies over the years, but nothing’s ever stuck except baking.”

Steven stares at you, happily nodding along as you update him on your life. “You still bake? After all this time?”

You laugh, a warmth settling into your chest being able to share time with Steven again, “Yea, kept it going since we used to bake with mom, but now I bake when I’m anxious or stressed out.”

“I remember baking with you and your mum! We made chocolate chip cookies one evenin’. She got us matching aprons and played this soft music. She was so patient even when I-I …dropped the whole bag of chocolate chips in the bowl”

You interject, “Yea, you panicked so bad I thought you were gunna pass out which…makes sense now all things considered”. Steven smiles sadly, “but your mum was so kind. She said there’s no such thing as too much chocolate and we..just kept baking. It was like it never even happened.” He trails off, seemingly lost in thought. You watch his features drop, tears brimming as he recalls his childhood. You tentatively place your hand on Steven’s knee, “For what it’s worth, mom was right. There is no such thing as too much chocolate and no what has happened or what will happen, Im happy to have you back Steven.”

Your words pull Steven from his thoughts. Blinking back tears, he leans over and hugs you again. Returning the gesture firmly, you rub your hand up and down his back a bit before you chuckle to yourself. Steven leans back, “what…what’s so funny?”. Covering your mouth to stifle a laugh you gesture vaguely to him “I am over the moon to have you back but you reek, er Jake reeks. This…the body…it stinks.” Steven leans further back, sniffing his own armpit “oh bollocks, we haven’t showered or anything. Still in Jakes clothes from last night even”

“I can drive youse guys back to your place to shower, change and do whatever needs to get done y’know. As long as everyone is okay with it.” Steven smiles at your consideration of them. “Im ready to go, I think Jake would be fine with it as well…Not sure about Marc.” “I don’t know how but why don’t you just ask ‘em. Like…how you talked to them before?”           She’s quick hermanito           I know mate, but you heard her. How’s it sound?           Si claro, works for me           marc?...Marc c’mon.           You can’t avoid her forever hermano           Shut it. I know I can’t I’m just…let me adjust will ya? She can take us back to the apartment. I just need time.            S’all you had to say           Steven’s right. Clear communication           Clear communication. I…I’ll talk to her at some point. Just give me some time.

“Steven, everything okay? You’ve been quiet for a long time.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “Hello?”  He blinks a few times, turning towards you, “Oh sorry, I was just checking in with Marc and Jake, everything is aces (Y/N) Just…be patient with Marc yea? He needs some time”. You smile warmly as you stand to grab your keys “Well youse guys are stuck with me now, so I’ve got all the time in the world.”

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #moon knight fluff #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fic #moon knight x reader #x reader #moon knight series

[marchsfreakshow]

Heartache In Him {JPM x Reader}

Requested by anon <3

You broke up with James 2 years ago because of The Countess. But Liz invites you back to help her and Sally.

Your perspective

☆ﾟ⁠.⁠*⁠･⁠｡ﾟ◕ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

2 Years Ago

"James, why the fuck would you hide this from me?"

"We have a deal we made my dear. It's been that way since we married." James sighed, staring at me. I stared daggers back, unable to see why it doesn't count as cheating.

James was married. He had been married for his whole undead life, to the woman in the room up top. I didn't know her, I only caught glimpses of her, and even then she was gone in a flash. Sure she was pretty, but, there was just something about her I couldn't pinpoint. It was odd, and encapsulating. I just shook my head off at the thought of her. "That doesn't matter! If you're going to date me I think it's pretty fucking important you tell me you're married to someone!!"

"She sleeps not with me. She has one person she sleeps with, and who helps her feed." James kept his cool, but I had an inkling he was as pissed as I was. I gritted my teeth and grabbed my bag. I wasn't staying here for long anyway, let alone any longer with a man who had a cheating wife.

Storming out, I heard Liz and Sally worry, but I didn't look back at them, James was behind me. "I hope you enjoy your awful fucking marriage, James." I flipped him off as I went outside and called for a taxi.

----

Now

I stared at the entrance to the Hotel Cortez. Liz had invited me back. It hadn't changed, so I doubted the dull and dingy inside would have changed either. A heavy sigh left my lips as I pushed open the door, and the energy of the place changed. It was odd, and like someone could sense I walked in. "Y/N, it's good to see you again," Sally said from the other side of the hall. I made a smile as I rushed up to her and hugged her tightly. She barely hugged me back, but I knew she missed me. "Why did you come back? I thought you dumped the murder ass."

I groaned and pointed up to Liz who was at the bar and distracted by her own thoughts and a can of coke. She was a beautiful lady I'll admit that. I took Sally's arm in mine, keeping my friend close, and still holding my bag with my free hand. "Oh Y/N! I'm so glad you're here." Liz grinned, it made me smile, and I sat down at the bar, immediately leaning on my hand.

"It's...okay to be back I guess. Still not sure what I think of the place now it stinks like cheating and death."

As soon as I said that, on the other side of the Hotel not to my knowledge, James was throwing a body away. He wasn't worried that the growing pile seemed to just get bigger and more prominent throughout the 2 years I had been gone. Maybe it was to work through me leaving him. Either way, the smell of everything hit me, death was the most common in this hotel. "Well, I'd like it if you could help with bartending occasionally. Restocking the little snacks and all." Really? That was it? I thought it was going to be more than that. I nodded though, happy to just see my friends again. But we heard footsteps. I wasn't the type of person to be able to tell whose footsteps were whose, Liz does though it seems.

"Y/N. Under the bar, quick." She hissed, I just nodded, and dashed behind the bar, hiding the best I could. It was James. Fuck. He stopped, I didn't know what was going to happen. "What?"

"Hm." James attempted to carry on walking, but he tripped over something. Oh. Shit. My bag. "Who's bag this?" He asked, pointing at it with his stick.

"It was left here, I'll take it to lost and found later. Not like anyone comes back anyway." Sally chimed in, taking a long, dramatic puff of her cigarette. James made another 'hm' and walked away. I let out a sigh, but it was loud, and he stopped in his tracks again.

"What was that?" He asked, and walked around to where Liz was, and saw me trying to hide behind Liz. Well, shit. "Y/N?" Awkwardly, he took hold of my arm and pulled me up trying to hug me, but I just pushed him away, avoiding his gaze.

"Leave us." He kept looking at me and waved to Sally and Liz. They slowly walked away, looking concerned. I almost shrank back, I didn't want them to leave, but I knew avoiding James the whole time would only cause more trouble. The aura of the whole place changed again, it almost seemed less dim. Was it because James had seen me? Either way, I just turned away from him, but he persisted. "Y/N, what are you doing back?"

"You made my reason leave." I didn't want to say much to him, so I tried to slip next to him so I could grab my bag and run. James was faster and harshly gripped my arms, keeping me leaning back on the bar.

"Will you stay?"

"No. You had a wife. I've found out about her. She's a fucking psycho"

"Like what I do isn't more psychotic?" James smirked, he was still attractive, but I didn't want to show him that, he would use that against me. "You find her a monster, yet you were so attracted to me by my killings, I know nothing could change that my dear."

"Don't call me that." That was all I could say back. I was still avoiding his eyes, yet he placed his hand just under my chin, on the top of my neck, he had me wrapped around his finger, and we both knew it. Even after 2 years, I couldn't shake The Countess from my thoughts. It was like she had the whole hotel wrapped around her gloved, long fingers, twisting words so they made sense to her. "Can you just...leave me now James?"

"Oh, we both know you don't want that my sweet bird." He left the word bird on my neck, his breaths making me tingle. But, he let me go. I felt frozen, I couldn't move even if he had just basically made it so I couldn't move. "Why don't you just kiss me hmm? I've missed our lips being connected so." He had me in a small corner, and he was fucking proud of himself. Proud that he had me in his little heart again. I felt fucking weak for letting myself drop my barriers for the murderer.

With that feeling, and me looking at the ground like a worried madman, he held me again and kept our faces close, the anticipation of him kissing me almost killing me. "I've killed nearly every hotel guest that came in, who resembled you Y/N. It was exhilarating as it was annoying.

"Fuck your killing addiction." Our noses were touching, the tension reaching every corner of the room. Every inhabitor of the hotel could feel it even if they were on the other side of the room. Like fuck I was giving in to him. My breaths were quick, heavy. His, calm and collected.

It happened.

One of us gave in and our lips were mashed together. His hands resting between on the top of my hips, mine holding the back of his neck. The feeling of tension had been cut once we kissed, almost like a sigh. Internally I was having arguments. I'm a fucking idiot for kissing this murderer. But oh god he was hot, and I missed the way he kissed me. And he was just as good as ever. Soon though, James pulled away, he could tell I was yelling at myself. "You have no reason to yell at yourself my darling hummingbird."

I still did so anyway. "You still taste the same." He added, starting to walk away. I was so entranced by what happened, I didn't realise my feet were following him, and I picked up my bag. Next to nothing had changed in his room.

But soon I woke up in James' bed, him already gone.

Well fuck.

#ahs #evan peters #american horror story #james patrick march #ahs hotel #jpm x reader #james march x reader #hotel #james march #smut implied #Angst #Slight angst #x reader #gender neutral reader #james patrick march x reader #request #hes hot

[nitewrighter]

i don't wanna be annoying but can you please write more lifeweaver? i freaking love your fanteractions for him

Torbjörn: I hope you're proud of yourself. Reinhardt won't shut up about robot horses, now!

LifeWeaver: *innocently* Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to put you into that position! I'll tell Reinhardt you can't build the horse.

Torbjörn: It's no matter of 'can't!' I can build a horse! I can build the most powerful steel stallion you've ever seen!

LifeWeaver: *mildly* Oh but I wouldn't want you to go through the trouble...

Torbjörn: What trouble?! It wouldn't be a challenge at all! I could build it in my sleep! I'll show you!

LifeWeaver: Oh, wonderful!

Torbjörn: Just you---! Wait--! You!!! Rrrrgh!

----

Cassidy: You know how much Vishkar's offerin' for you?

LifeWeaver: Well there isn't a solid answer to that, because Vishkar doesn't deal solely in money. Looking to take me in?

Cassidy: Nah, nah, too uptight a bunch for my tastes. I'm just wondering if your bounty's higher than mine.

LifeWeaver: Hm! Competitive, aren't we?

----

LifeWeaver: It's wonderful that you donate a percentage of your music sales to reforestation, Lúcio.

Lúcio: I'm sensing a 'but...'

LifeWeaver: Oh no buts. It's very admirable. It's just... old growth forests have that vital duff that supports biodiversity, makes them more drought-resistant, and more CO2 efficient than just replanting trees. So if a percentage went to stopping deforestation to begin with...

Lúcio: I'll... look into it. We don't have to tie ourselves to trees, do we?

LifeWeaver: I won't ask that of you... yet.

----

LifeWeaver: *pouty* I can't believe you left me on read for 3 hours.

Baptiste: I keep telling you! There was a firefight! And I was running for my life!

LifeWeaver: So you send the explosion and running emojis! Have you never dated an enemy of a terrorist-backed corporation before?

Baptiste: Have you never dated the enemy of a corporate-backed terrorist organization before?!

LifeWeaver: *gasp* Oh, it's our first fight! Isn't it exciting?

Baptiste: *sigh* You certainly have an interesting perspective on things...

----

LifeWeaver: Ah, the protector of Cairo, herself! If you ever need a lift for a good vantage point, just let me know.

Ana: *chuckle* Such a gentleman.

LifeWeaver: Well, we outlaws ought to look out for each other, right?

#lifeweaver #cole cassidy #ana amari #lucio correia dos santos #torbjorn lindholm #overwatch #fanteractions #jean baptiste augustin #bapweaver #me a libra looking at lifeweaver: he's libra-coded

[desire-mona]

why i think richard cameron is Like That

the long awaited cam analysis post of sorts!!!

so to start off, let me acknowledge the obvious: CAMERON SUCKED FOR WHAT HE DID TO HIS FRIENDS. THAT WAS MEAN AND SHITTY OF HIM, HE DESERVED TO GET PUNCHED IN THE FACE AND HE DESERVED TO HAVE HIS FRIENDS STOP LIKING HIM. this post is just to paint a more nuanced picture of the motivations and reasoning behind his cam-ness. also i feel the need to address that my love for dylan kussman HEAVILY influences my opinion on cameron, so please keep that in find when u read this. if my bias shows at any point then feel free to offer your perspective, odds are i'll find a way to agree :3

-

lets start at the very beginning of the movie, his first appearance with the tradition banner. this obviously wasn't anything i rly thought of in depth on my first watch, but on my second watch i was like oh Hm.

tradition, of course, is a BIG aspect of welton that the movie repeatedly emphasises, drawing lots of attention to how nothing changes. i find cam holding the tradition banner especially interesting in relativity to neil holding the excellence banner specifically. cam very clearly tries his best to embody the rules of welton (more on this later) and very rarely deviates from those rules, although he does on occasion (again - more on this later.) but despite his attempts to be the manifestation of those values are never met with any praise, unlike neil. that's not to say that neil isn't deserving of that praise though, absolutely he is deserving, but in terms of academics specifically, cam's pretty up there too! this part doesnt exactly tie in directly with the rest of the post, but just thought id point it out first to add a layer to the rest of my thoughts.

how i view cam's character arc is something that's framed in a way thats not supposed to be viewed as an arc, i suppose (interesting considering the tradition thing hm). of course thats inaccurate as he does in fact have in arc, it just small in relation to the more forefront-ed poets. and it makes him ultimately less likeable, so.

during a majority of the movie (pre neil death) cam is known as the guy who doesnt like to break rules, that much is obvious, but in the end he still does with the dead poets society. now the reasoning behind that isnt actually touched on in a direct way, so there are a few different ways you can view that. i'll touch on a few different reasonings that me, @pencileraser1, and @good--merits-accumulated came up with.

my reasoning - i see cam's willingness to break the rules as cam holding his friends' idea of him on a high pedestal, constantly taking into consideration what they think. not wanting his friends to consider him a loser or boring in any way, he joins despite the anxiety surrounding being caught. not without fuss though, he does still outwardly talk about how this isnt something they should be doing. all this and yet he does in fact join, AND he doesnt rat anyone out for a majority of the movie (even after the call from god dealio!!!) fomo, basically.

nick's reasoning (found in this post) - he just wanted his friends to be safe!!! joining to (in my view) keep them in line in terms of safety as well as. i guess. provide the reminder of the consequences i suppose?? nick im opening up the floor to u if u wanna delve into this point more cuz ur definitely able to provide better reasoning n such. if asking nick to talk abt things was a full time job.

tristan's reasoning (discussed in dms) - cam's need for authority. tristan brought up a very good headcanon/ theory/ something or other that cam is the type to need constant direction or authority, and i totally agree! (reason for that will - again - come up later.) now this culminates in a couple different ways. 1) most obviously, adhereing (ehh) to the rules of welton, and 2) his relationship with the rest of the poets. due to the size of the welton student body, a lack of individual direction from teachers and staff is almost inevitable. so to fill that gap, he adheres to his friends' """"""rules"""""", and joins the poets. floor is open to you as well if you'd like to elaborate further, tristan :3

my thoughts of cam being super focused on his friends' idea of him actually started as a bit. i believe i made a hc post about smoking weed?? maybe?? and said something along the lines of "cam would smoke even if he doesnt want to, not cuz of peer pressure from his friends but more of a self imposed peer pressure. thinking its rude/ cringe/ uncool to turn down smthn like this bc all the rest of the guys r doing it." but after a rewatch of the scene in dps where theyre all walking outside, it started having some merit in my mind! in that scene, keating does a sort of imitation of cameron when he first starts to walk, something like "am i doing this right?", "am i walking weird?", etc. (paraphrasing ofc.) so i sort of took that aspect and applied it to other parts of his character and found out that oh, this actually kinda makes sense!

speaking of keating and his lessons, lets talk carpe diem.

now my interpretation of cam is that he doesn't exactly *want* to apply carpe diem in his life, seeing it as an antithesis of the welton values. only joining the poets for the reasons mentioned above. however, he does indeed apply it in my eyes, but more as a fucked up reversal and dickish version which eventually ends up in him deservedly getting punched. now is this how keating intended him to interpret carpe diem? ehhhhhhhhhhhhh,, it's complicated, let's talk about the context a bit.

this part is more theorising than anything, so take it with a few grains of salt if u wish.

cam quite obviously is a pretty big stickler for the rules, which i believe is a result of outside influence. id like to thank @lovech1ld for reminding me of this! cam's parents/ grandparents/ guardians are noticably older than the other poets, which, in my eyes, makes a heavy emphasis on following the rules make a lot more sense (respect your elders type shit.) so this, combined with the inherent fear of authority that most of the boys seem to have, makes him a chronic rule follower. but it goes further than that, after these ideas have been pushed for so long, i feel that cameron's started to mix up his own personal morals and values with the morals and values of welton, viewing those two things as one in the same. here's where that starts to muddy things up in terms of carpe diem.

i interpret cam's finking AS his application of carpe diem in his life, but as more of a subconscious choice. now you may be thinking "hey. mona. what?" and i UNDERSTAND! but here's my reasoning behind that. as i mentioned/ theorised before, cam has a very high opinion of his friends' idea of him, but this does eventually change after neil's passing. his subconscious carpe diem application, to put it into proper words, was a way to stick up for himself and his beliefs despite what all his friends think. again, being brought about by neils death, since he didn't choose to rat anyone out when the opportunity first presented itself during the call from god assembly. and i dont think cam sticking up for himself is inherently a bad thing!! but! since cam's idea of his morals are so clouded by welton's, this isn't actually sticking up for himself, this is just being a tattletale.

he did provide other reasoning for doing so to the poets of course, so lets talk a bit about that too. he says something along the lines of "i did it for neil" and "this is what he wouldve wanted" which is obviously bullshit, objectively. but i don't think he saw it that way, i think he genuinely believed thats what he thought neil would've wanted, as stupid of him as that was. obviously thats not what he wouldve wanted AT ALL, and why he actually thought that is FAR beyond me. but i really dont think he wouldve turned anyone in if he didnt genuinely believe it, especially considering the fact that he was PART of the dead poets. even if he was the one to confess, im sure he likely got punished as well. (which also couldve been what he wanted? tristan this is an opening to also discuss catholic cam on here bc ur reasonings for that were INCREDIBLE.)

on top of this, i really dont think that cam actually understood the weight of what turning in everyone would do. now i will say right away, hes not dumb, he knew that keating would be fired and charlie would be expelled, and that alone should've turned him away if he really wanted to honor neil. as i said before we started, he absolutely deserved to be punched and lose his friends, that was a dick move that ended up ruining two lives for a long long time, if not forever.

but.

due to him grieving, his rules = morals shtick, and fear of authority, i think he turned in the poets without giving actual, proper thought into what the consequences of that would be. which manifests itself both in the film with the final scene.

in the last scene where all of the boys stand on the desk, we see multiple shots of cam looking around and looking at everyone standing. and we (or at least i) can definitely see some sort of consideration to join them!!! he of course doesnt, and ends up choosing to sit, looking QUITE ashamed. this too can he interpreted a couple ways, either as him being embarrassed that his peers are doing this, or as him wanting to join them but knowing that he was the reason keating was fired. knowing that it would be incredibly disingenuous, even if he stood as a way to sort of apologise to keating + the poets for what he did and show that he regrets his actions, he stayed seated. and was so. so. mad at himself for it.

now i don't remember where i heard this so im not sure how to go about fact checking, but i believe the choice to keep cam seated was ultimately dylan kussman's?????? but dont take my word as gospel in terms of that, i very well could be wrong.

BUT! this gives me an opportunity to talk abt how much i love dylan kussman!!!!! nick vocalised the thought before i was able to in one of his posts, but considering the fact that i agree wholeheartedly, i'll reiterate it. i see rsl and ethan hawke constantly be praised (deservedly!) for their understanding of the inner workings of their characters, especially reflected in the desk set scene. and while YES ABSOLUTELY, i think dylan needs this praise as well. dylan was the PERFECT casting choice for cameron and i will shout that from the rooftops until my voice goes hoarse. so so so many of his little mannerisms, facial expressions, ways of speaking, soooo many etceteras are just so. so. CAMERON! even the most comprehensive directorial choices cant top an actor's inherent understanding of a character and reflection of that in their performance. good god! i think my new dream in life is to ask dylan about how he came about properly embodying cameron and his process in doing so.

anyway

with my dylan fanfare over, that about wraps up my thoughts on cam in terms of the film itself. HOWEVER. i have lots and lots of thoughts after a long convo with tristan about certain headcanons and post-canon theories and whatever. will probably touch on those but i dont really have my thoughts properly collected enough, so that wont be until later.

as per usual with these types of posts, everyone else is welcome to add any input they may have. cam is one of my fav things to talk abt in terms of dps so i will eat up every single little thing. thank u for reading!!!!

#desire mona #WOO MAN #this took a while #but we're done!! finally!!! #dead poets society #richard cameron #dylan kussman #banger

[gothic-thoughts]

Formal Introduction

(he's my father fr, so the first fic for him wont be nun freaky)

Aizawa Shouta x Black GN Reader Fluff

FatherAU, HighSchool!Reader(cuz UA duh), Kind of a Drabble

CW: starting a new school, reader has social anxiety, switched perspectives, breathing exercises(brief)

TW: Mini anxiety attack

A/n: (any and all Japanese is either written or confirmed by DeepL. And is also written in Romaji to pronounce)

"Oi. Look at me." I say, caressing their cheek, "You're acting like they're gonna eat you alive."

"Dad, you said that it's a tame class." They whisper aggressively, "They look the opposite of tame to me!"

 We take a second peek through the skinny window of the door to see my "tame" class of 20 kids doing everything from standing to talking, some even yelling. Denki, of course.

"Hm, sore wa honto da(that's true), but they'll quiet down when I walk in."

"Daaad"

"You'll be fine."

"What if my quirk's not cool enough?"

My eyebrows raise as my arms cross, "And who cares?"

They shrug, "Wakaranai(don't know). Sorry, I'm just worried. They've been here since the first day and I'm like 3 months late!"

"It's not, besides you're my kid. Who's gonna care how late you are or how cool your quirk is?"

They hit my shoulder making us both chuckle a little at my words.

"Remember to--"

"Yes Aizawa sensei. Only call you 'dad' if absolutely necessary."

"You're gonna make it." I smiled, "You're gonna have to or your mother will kill me."

 I opened the door, leading them inside as my class's loud talking turned to murmurs before they disperse, quickly and quietly running back to their assigned seats.

"Ohayougozaimasu(good morning)."

They all bow slightly, "Aizawa sensei, ohayougozaimasu!"

"As you can see, we have a new student joining us today." I look over at them, "Douzo(go ahead)."

(Y/n) plays with their bangs for a little before taking a deep breath.

"Um, I'm (Y/n) and..." They stammer, "...and um I can...."

They visibly freeze, causing a few of the kids to mumble amongst themselves. Come on, you got it. What happened? My angel looked back at me and I tense upon seeing the fiery traces of scarlet in their eyes spread out to overtake their entire iris was red. Their quirk was a combination of mine and their mother who could see 20 feet through anything.

(Y/n)'s quirk being active means I couldn't activate mine and neither could anybody in a 20 foot radius behind the board. I know they're not the best with public speaking but they haven't been this nervous since elementary. I guess I could just point to the back of the room to get them to look away from me, but they have to learn how to control their powers somehow. I look at the class, clearing my throat.

“Karerano onamaewa (Y/n)(Their name is [Y/n]).” I say, leaning back in my chair, “Watashino kodomo desu(My child)."

 (Y/n) sighs in relief as their red eyes reduce back to the natural shimmer in the black of their eyes. I sigh, closing my eyes while the class gasps.

"Your child!?"

"You have a kid?!" Ashido yelled.

"How did they survive!?" Kaminari yelled.

"You never told us you had a whole kid, Aizawa sensei" Sero chimed in, "Much less one our age!"

"She's so pretty!" Ururaka gasped.

I sigh, “Is it too late to enroll you somewhere else?”

(Y/n) laughed into their palm, “You won’t be able to watch me.” 

“Fair enough.” I facepalm. “Oi, ochitsuite(calm down)! Just because they're my child, doesn’t mean treat them different that anyone else in the hero course. I'm giving you all 5 minutes to get to know them a little before we start."

"Can we see their quirk?!" Kirishima asked.

"What is her quirk?!" Midoriya asked.

"Idiot." Bakugou said, "It's obviously something with her eyes!"

“You can all ask her within the 5 minutes.” I sigh, rolling my eyes, “Dozo(go ahead).”

 (Y/n) walks closer to them and I watch as the class welcomes them in with open arms and plenty of questions, mostly ones about me and our home lives. I scan the room, noticing almost everyone was crowded except Bakugou, who was avoiding eye contact completely. I sigh wistfully watching as (Y/n) is overloaded with everybody's names to the point of pointing at them and saying them out loud.

"Alright, alright that's enough." I yawn out, "Give her some breathing room. Kore gara hajimeruzo(we're going to start now); (Y/n), you can sit next to me until we get you a seat."

"Okay." 

 They jog to the available seat next to my desk. That's better, there's that smile. Just needed a little push. I quickly discard my smile and stand from my desk, waiting for them all to sit down so I can start my lesson.

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

Let's run it back

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

Formally Introduced

"As you can see, we have a new student joining us today." Dad looks over at me, "Douzo(go ahead)."

I play with my bangs for a couple seconds before taking a deep breath to end the dreadfully awkward silence in the room. I try to speak after that but it was nothing but another breath.

"Um, I'm (Y/n) and..." I stupidly stutter out, "...and um I can...."

I can't. There's so many people. Dammit. I freeze, causing a few of the kids to mumble amongst themselves. Desperate, I look back at my dad and when he tenses up, my heart rate skyrockets. His breathing becomes slightly louder as he tries to get me to copy it's slow speed when his eyes leave mine, looking at his class with a gentle "ahem".

“Karerano onamaewa (Y/n)(Their name is [Y/n]).” He says, leaning back, “Watashino kodomo desu(My child)."

I sigh in relief as my heart rate began to settle, closing my eyes before they fly open at the loud and sudden collective gasp from my new classmates.

"Your child!?"

(A/n): this is kind of an OC too cuz of the quirk i've been thinking of

#mha aizawa #aizawa fluff #aizawa shouta #x black reader #black reader #black writers #aizawa x y/n #aizawa x reader #bnha aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shota #mha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero acedamia #aizawa mha #aizawa bnha

[real-total-drama-takes]

My biggest flex is that when it comes to most characters, there’s at least 3-4 other ships involving each character that i ship out of association

The noah-course ship war? I’ve already won. There’s like at least 4 other people I ship with Alejandro. Same with Duncan, Harold, and Justin. Every girl on team Amazon (and sometimes cody) has been either shipped with each other or with someone else. Even in the later casts, my opinions on ships are never truly affecting anyone and nobody else can affect me. And when I see a rarepair I’ve never considered before, I just look at it from another perspective to the point where I’m like “Hm, I could totally see that!”

God I love being the multishipper ever

-ramekins

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#total drama #fandom takes #ramekins

[toytle]

Hi! I love your art style it's like. Breathtaking. And your hcs on barry are some of my favourites of all time?

What do you think of "The Ballad of Barry Allen by Jim's Big Ego as an analysis of Barry's character?

are you asking or are you telling me 🤨 lol THANK YOU i put all my headcanon power into him <3

for the ballad, i love their song stress, and this isn’t bad at all as far as fansongs go. but there’s a reason i don’t include it in my barry playlist, and it’s ultimately bc it doesn’t fit my narrative haha

the song was made in 2003 and i haven’t read many comics before then, so idk how well it aligns w barry’s characterization prior to flashpoint, but i’m basing my playlist off post-flashpoint, so that’s where a lot of the differences will lie

for starters, the song only includes one half of barry’s relationship to his superspeed, and it’s important to me that a barry interpretation includes both sides of that coin. instead, it’s playing on the idea of the dark side of the hero fantasy, an inherently optimistic genre. which, fair, being a superhero sounds like a nightmare, but that angle is less novel to me when that’s the extent of the analysis (and i’m a little over the whole “i hate being a superhero” storyline in general, personally). the song is basically abt how much it would suck to have superspeed bc the world slows to a crawl and you’re left behind bc no one else can keep up w you. and it’s true, that is a very real setback! especially for someone like barry who’s already prone to self-isolation and time management issues! but what does the song actually have to say abt him as a character?

the thing is, barry isn’t a “i wish i wasn’t a hero” kind of guy. he’s a “could i be so strong [to give up the flash]? or do i love the thrill of these powers too much?” kind of guy. he’s a “knowing what i know now… if i could go back in time… maybe i would’ve been somewhere else the day lightning struck my lab and electrified those chemicals, ready and willing to forfeit a life of dodging deathtraps and battling villains… who am i kidding? there’s no going back. no do-overs. like everyone else, superheroes can only follow the path destiny has laid out for them, whatever lies ahead.” kind of guy. yes, barry is caged by his superspeed, but it would be misleading to not present it first and foremost as the very thing that frees him. it’s a double-edged sword that gives him purpose, and that freedom in obligation is what motivates him to keep going. as a wise man once said, “all you can do is go forward.” (“thanks.” “superman is pretty smart isn’t he.” “hm.”)

i think the real kicker for me was this lyric: “i’ve got time to think about the past… how my life was so exciting before i got this way.” my sincerest apologies to mr. allen, but he does not feel complete to me without his mother’s death or his father’s false imprisonment. this backstory contextualizes everything for me. his life was NOT exciting before his superspeed, it was lonely and full of escapism, either in his sci-fi/comics or his dedication to finding justice. i am of the belief that barry didn’t truly start living until he got his superspeed, over 2 decades of waiting around before he rly understood freedom and what it meant to live for himself. i get what they’re trying to do here, but this is what i mean when i say it feels like the song characterizes barry around the concept of his speed rather than how barry’s speed defines him as a person

ik i can’t expect a 4min song to include every aspect of a character’s timeline/development/nuance (esp before some of that even existed lol), but my issue isn’t that it doesn’t cover enough ground—it’s not bad that they had a theme and stuck by it, i actually love the lyrics from a speedster perspective. my issue is that i don’t think this is a good framing for barry’s character as a whole. for all his regrets and suffering, barry is optimistic to the point of denial. choosing this to be The theme to represent barry just. doesn’t feel like barry to me. it’s more like barry is the placeholder subject as an excuse to sing abt superspeed

if this was somehow less overtly a “BARRY ALLEN FANSONG” and maybe more metaphorical or even non-fandom, then it would be a dif situation and i might have dif opinions. at the end of the day, this has more to do w my pickiness than the quality of the song, and the fact that it even exists is so exciting for me as a barry allen enjoyer first, human second. but if you’re going to call smth a character study, i Will be getting my hopes up

#barry allen #the flash #dc #danswers #danbles #i’ve never had to put this into coherent thought before usually i’m just being a hater unprompted in my friends’ dms LOL #which i think should emphasize that my opinions say more abt me than this song or even barry #but ty for the kind words + ask! this was rly fun to rattle around in my brain #i love having strong opinions abt things that don’t matter 😋