#THE COLLECTIVE 'oh's WHEN THEY BOTH REALIZED THEY LIKED MATH

[mara-phelion]

have we ever considered that nightowl and onionthief have the makings of two Bitter Exes

doing nightowl's route and seeing the way onion acted towards both us and him felt so...telling. like it's not even them being in a full romantic relationship, any kind would've sufficed, but everyone can see an unmistakeable tension

let me paint you a picture: two grad students who like the same web novel. so different, yet one always balances out the other

emotion and logic, the sun and the moon—two people are at incredible parallels to each other that they fail to realize that they're just the sides of the same coin

onion cares in his own way, calculated and cold yet with warmth all the same. and nightowl sees that. he argues, but he sees that. until the words are too harsh, too critical, too much like his mother and her endless ways to tell him he's not enough

on the other end, nightowl is the life of the party, seriousness can be so easily pushed back in his light. and onion basks in it. he gets burnt, but he basks in it. until the sleepless nights happen and the alcohol hits, too chaotic, too vulnerable, just too much

and they break apart. who cares about what they could've been if they had only learned that they shared the same affinity for numbers? what does it matter that they both know what it's like to fear the impending doom of expectations? they're just onion and owl. too different. too much for the other to love

then here comes mc with their patience, intelligence, humor, and kindness. and just like that, old wounds open as onionthief and nightowl see exactly what they wanted and needed from the other that they never got

but mc chooses nightowl. in all his failure and broken glory, and in turn, he chooses to be better for the both of them

while onion is left to think about all the what-if's. what if he were kinder? what if he were less arrogant and cared more about him instead of being right?

left to wonder why now, why not then when it mattered just as much, not when it was him who was on nightowl's side

why he just wasn't good enough.

#mara phelion: some thoughts head not that empty #nightowl #blooming panic #bloomic #nightowl blooming panic #blooming panic nightowl #onionthief #nightowl x onionthief #onionthief blooming panic #nightthief #onionowl #literally brainrotting over them because it can't have just been me who saw all that tension #THEY'RE SO !?!?!!?!?! like just kiss alr idk #it's like they know so much of each other but also know so little #THE COLLECTIVE 'oh's WHEN THEY BOTH REALIZED THEY LIKED MATH #they're so bad for each other because both of them are in such DEEP COPIUM ALL THE TIME #but damn if they put aside their differences i think they really do love and care for each other in their own ways #mara phelion: when the head canons

[reallyromealone]

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #bonten x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #mikey tokyo revengers #anime x male reader #anime x reader #angst

[meangirls-imagines]

Masterlist

+- indicates smut

WIPs List

Request Rules

About Me

Poly!Plasticsverse

CLAIMED ANON EMOJIS: 🦁💙🌕🧡🍉🧃☀️💕💌💐🍄

Regina George

There For You

Janis and Regina help Reader get over a bad breakup, revealing their feelings for them. (Y/N goes by they/them pronouns in this one.)

Fire and Ice

Regina and Reader are the school's power couple. Everyone thinks Regina is the top. Oh, how wrong they are.

Sabotage

Reader finds out Cady is sabotaging her girlfriend and making her insecure so she takes revenge into her own hands.

Used To It

Regina isn't used to being loved. She gets overwhelmed when she starts dating Reader and getting treated like she's supposed to.

Protective

Regina's girlfriend is tired of the rumors of her girlfriend. She takes matters into her hands to stop them.

Ruin Me +

Regina gets railed by reader and gets adDICKted very fast.

Regina George is a Bottom +

Regina is fed up with not being able to crack Reader, however, she soon discovers that she would be the one to crack pretty soon.

Sex Education +

Regina becomes obsessed with Reader. She jumps on an opportunity that arises and makes Reader hers.

Revenge of the Nerds (but hotter)

Regina and Reader are complete opposites, but that's why they work. Shane Oman looks to ruin that, but fails.

Regina's Protector

Reader is usually a calm and collected person. Cady Heron quickly realizes that messing with Y/N and her girlfriend is social suicide.

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl('s abs) +

Regina George being a bottom. That's all.

Jealous, much? +

Regina and Reader are FWB. When Reader stops the arrangement for another girl, Regina feels a hole in her heart form.

Rest and Relaxation

Regina notices her girlfriend overworking herself and takes charge of the "Take Care of Y/N" committee.

A (Different) Cautionary Tale

The story of Mean Girls (2024) with a twist.

Karen Shetty

Study Break? +

Reader has to tutor Karen. Study sessions become steamy VERY quick.

Fun Size

Karen's girlfriend is short. She's tired of it.

First Date Feelings

Karen and Reader go out on their first date.

Gretchen Wieners

Please Be Mine

Gretchen and Y/N had been best friends forever. Feelings grow, Gretchen gets a boyfriend, and everything goes downhill.

Spicy Sick Days

Y/N catches the flu. Gretchen takes care of them. (In more ways than one)

Cady Heron

Stupid With Love (Literally)

Cady Heron is new. Y/N Y/L/N is smitten.

Janis 'Imi'ike

Life Imitates Art

Janis has loved Y/N forever. Y/N has loved Janis forever. Their friends meddle and it's the start of a beautiful relationship.

There For You

Janis and Regina help Reader get over a bad breakup, revealing their feelings for them. (Y/N goes by they/them pronouns in this one.)

Reneè Rapp

On Wednesdays, We Wear Pink

Reneè is off filming Mean Girls and misses her gf. The cast gets together for the cutest surprise.

You're Sick

Reader gets sick. Reneè takes care of her girl.

Forever Will Last

Reader and Reneè hit a rough patch after the Vanity Fair Oscar Party.

Coachella Diaries

Reader supports Reneè at Coachella

Leighton Murray

Frat Parties Suck

It's basically that episode of SLOCG where Leighton and Alicia kiss for the first time but reader replaces Alicia.

Best Friends?

Leighton and Reader have been best friends since forever and both fall in love with each other. Tension rises when Leighton gets back with Alicia and Reader finally reaches the breaking point.

Leap of Faith

Part 2 to "Best Friends?" The roommates call an audible when they see how much the aftermath of the Incident™️ is affecting both girls. Help comes in the form of the Murray family.

Savior

Leighton meets reader in her math class and is instantly smitten. However, as weeks go on, Leighton sees that the reader's kindness is getting taken advantage of, causing her girl to burn out. Leighton takes matters into her own hands.

Hydrate or Diedrate

Leighton and Tatum's girlfriend gets a bad case of heatstroke during track practice. Her two favorite blondes take care of her.

Gaydar Issues

Leighton doesn't really know how to talk to girls. She made the mistake of failing to talk to Reader in front of Bela, which leads to a very awkward intervention.

#mean girls imagines #regina george x reader #gretchen wieners x reader #karen shetty x reader #cady heron x reader #janis imi'ike x reader #mean girls 2024 #reneè rapp x reader #leighton murray x reader #plastics x reader

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something II

A/N: okayy I’m finally going to stop overthinking and just post this one. Please note the tw in part 1. Thank you all SO much for the comments and love on the original…hope this one meets ur expectations. It’s definitely more focused on the lost daughter relationship rather than you and Harry so p dense but...here it is 🫣

——————————————

Age 36:

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Harry informs me over the phone. “I went with chicken noodle soup.”

“Mmm,” I close my eyes. “I could use something hot and hearty right now. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I didn’t need to make dinner for that.”

“So come here, warm me up,” I crane my neck to the left again. “Stupid delays.”

“I can come get you."

I’d mapped it out before calling Harry, it would take him too long to get here. “That’s alright. Doesn’t make a difference.”

The screen on the platform showed 6 minutes…for the past 15 minutes.

“I’ve either been living in the longest minute of my fucking life,” I mutter. “Or this line is taking the piss out of all of us.”

Two dozen of us had gotten off the last train when it announced it was out of service. Now the number on the platform had tripled waiting for the next one.

“Patience,” Harry says. “Is a virtue.”

“Easy for you to say in the warm flat with the chicken noodle soup.”

“It’ll be yours soon.”

Soon. I sigh and try to release the anxious energy with it. “Thank you for taking care of dinner.”

“Of course.” He replies. Like it was that simple. But being with Harry was like that nowadays.

Despite all the catching up we had to do with the 17 years we had lived separate lives, emotionally it’s like we picked up where we last left off.

I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing the whole year we’d been together. There had been a hard few first months where both of us felt unnerved by the peacefulness of the relationship. We weren’t used to such an easy quiet.

I’d tried to self-sabotage first by going awol and working longer hours than I needed to. I think I was scared Harry would wake up one day and realize too much time had passed and he didn’t like who I’d become so I minimized our time together. Until Harry called me out for it.

But then he went off the rails, and for a few weeks I’d been an even bigger ball of anxiety. Ultimately I had to give him the hard truth even though the last thing I ever wanted was to convince someone to stay with an ultimatum. But I’d told him, he had to at least attempt sobriety if he wanted us to work.

There were a few sleepless nights, I didn’t know if we were going to make it. But one morning he asked me to go to an aa meeting with him.

Going together, being in the same boat as a group of people gathered in the back room of a dusty church finally gelled us together. For good. He’d been sober since.

We moved in together 7 months ago. Even though it doubled my commute time—tripled with delays, I had never been more sure that I was exactly where I needed to be.

We held space for each other. Even the heavier bits; we knew what they were. What it was like to hold them on our own. We always joked about how our loads had halved despite taking on half of the other’s. Because just like our venn diagram of love, our venn diagram of hurting was the same.

“Oh god, I better not be hallucinating.” I nearly jump up and down when the twin headlights of the next train peek in the distance. The platform board still says 6 minutes.

“You’re cutting up what?”

“Nothing! Train’s here!”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.” Harry says before I hang up.

I spend the remaining 15 minute ride going over the lecture I’d given tonight.

3 years ago when I applied to be a lecturer I didn’t actually think I’d get it. But in the 10 years of my career I had collected, I had done exceptionally well. It was ironic with all the bullshit life threw at me, I had somehow channeled it into a determined work ethic. After failing many math tests in high school I had found a love for it in uni—it made me work hard, get out of my head with its constant thoughts. Harry now took to calling me a masochist for teaching something mathematical.

In reality it wasn’t that mathematical. I taught Management Econ which was a snorefest on paper but I tried to be engaging and include a whole host of ways to teach—I knew not everyone excelled with a textbook.

It had made the course popular, it went from being offered once a semester to 3 times this year because the waitlist spoke for itself. It was one of my proudest accomplishment—getting students motivated and interested. And because it was mostly first and second year students, they were still eager and not jaded by the uni system.

That was how I spent my evenings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Otherwise I worked for the city the same hours Harry worked his creative exec job at a major firm in the city. Sometimes we met up for lunch. It was the little things like that, making time to see each other in the middle of the day even though we woke up and fell asleep to each other, that made this relationship feel so secure.

It felt like coming home each time I caught sight of his face, and knew his smile was just for me.

My thoughts drift to our daughter. She would have celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. I always lit a birthday candle for her, this year Harry and I bought a cake and a symbolic drink for her. Our baby was old enough to drink.

“Do you think she takes after her parents?” Harry had asked.

“I think she grew up alright.” I always imagined her to have. “I hope she has no reason to drink herself silly.”

“Being 18 is reason enough.”

We talk about her often. She slips into conversation as easily as inhaling. It keeps her with us.

When I spot Harry’s car at the station I nearly weep.

“Your cheeks are so cold,” Harry says after a peck hello. He holds them both in his heated hands and plants exaggerated kisses on each cheek.

“Please sir,” I kiss his mouth and continue in what Harry called my Oliver Twist accent. “Take me to the chicken noodle soup. I hunger.”

Harry responds in the same accent (although it wasn’t as good as mine) and pretty soon I’m forgetting the 20 minute delay, the lecture with 100 technical difficulties, and anything in between.

After dinner and completing my 20 step night time routine I crawl into bed beside a cozy-looking Harry.

“Whatcha reading?” I peek at his book. I can’t believe he was the reading-before-bed type. In a way it was so different from the 17 year old guy I knew. It was also a reminder that even though we knew each other through and through, there were still so many habits and stories and quirks to discover.

“It’s a boring as hell sci-fi novel, don’t ask.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I accidentally joined a book club at work!?”

He tells me the story of how he told some people he enjoyed reading, and then being unable to say no when they bought this month’s book for him and presented it to him a week later.

“I bet you that’s their ponze scheme. It’s like an MLM, the latest recruit has to guilt the next joinee. You’ll be doing it soon.”

Harry laughs and holds his book out to me. “That actually brings me to my next question with this very generous gift, do you like reading?”

“Nope.” I push the book away. “I also don’t like book clubs.”

He tosses the book down lightly. “Damnit!”

We laugh. I cuddle into his side and lay my head on his chest as he finishes his chapter. His heart beat is steady, like the life he’s helped me create as we committed to each other. I listen to it as it lulls me to a calmer place.

“So how was work? How’s your students this semester?”

“Work’s good. Same old right now. Teaching was interesting. It’s the second week of classes so still seeing a lot of people come and go. You start to see the regulars by week 3.”

“Full class?”

“Almost,” I tell him. “A few empty seats. There was one girl who was obviously watching tv the whole time, another guy that fell asleep halfway, and this other kid kept looking at the door like he was physically trying to decide whether he would stay. Weird lot.”

“They won’t be there next week.”

“Nope.”

“You think she’s starting uni? I wonder what she’s decided to study.”

“Mmm, I always think it’s something creative like you.”

Harry squeezes his arm around me. “I think she’s a masochist like you.”

We talk more about her, about the upcoming weekend, and as sleep visits we drift away still intertwined like most nights.

***

“Does anyone know why?” I ask the lecture hall. Just like I predicted, most of the people I knew wouldn’t make it were gone. Now there were just under 60 students in total. What had surprised me was the guy who looked nervous the second week stayed. He’d been joined by two friends who only showed up in week 4. He was probably the designated note taker.

A girl to the left puts her hand up and I point to her. “The growing gap between upper and middle classes?”

“Yes.” I give her a reassuring smile. Until I started teaching, I forgot that most answers they gave were questions. “Anyone else?”

The girl beside nervous guy puts her hand up. “The ageing population, it skews the demographic from what was initially projected?”

“Exactly,” I try not to show favourites but that was beautifully said. Maybe she didn’t need to come to all the classes.

“That would also affect the workforce,” a guy sitting in the front pipes in. I smile, pleased that a discussion was forming.

A few others join in and I nod at each point. I loved this job.

After class is over I always got a few stragglers asking questions. The nervous guy comes up to me.

“Um professor,” he hitches his backpack and glances back at his friends. “For the assignment due next week, can groups of 3 be okay?”

I glance at his friends, it was supposed to be in pairs but what the hell. “Sure. But I’ll need extra stuffing in the assignment to make up for it.”

I say it with a joking tone but he’s so wound up that he takes me seriously.

“Of course. We’ll increase the citations and make sure to include more research-“

“Philippe,” one of the girls is suddenly a few feet away.

“Thank you.” He says, finally meeting my eye. I smile and he relaxes. I turn to his friends, to acknowledge them but they stare at me like I’d grown a second head. One of the other students asks her questions and I turn my attention away—weird.

***

“Mid-terms?” Harry asks. I’m reading a textbook while I stand over the simmering pot. We had accidentally ordered 4 times the tomatoes on our online order last week and with three still left I’d decided to batch make spaghetti sauce. It had been a long time since I made it from scratch.

“Kind of.” I push the book aside. “Someone in the department wants to update the textbooks and they left notes in the old one for what needs updating. They asked me to take a look.”

“That’s cool,” Harry walks over to me. He smelled like cologne and outside, the way he usually did right after he came home on chillier days. “That he wants your opinion?”

“She actually,” I poke him. “And it is! I can’t believe I get paid to lecture about one of my passions.”

“Economics,” Harry makes a face like he smelled something bad.

“Makes the world go round,” I smile sweetly.

“Remember when you liked things that were cool like Harry Potter and Coldplay-“

“I still like them! If I recall you’re the one who motivated me to do well in maths.”

“I did?” Harry looks off into the distance but his slow smirk is evident that he was remembering. He tilts my chin up and brushes my lips. “You’re right. So how about now? Would that still work?”

“Do you want me to stroke your ego right now?”

“Amongst other things,” he muses, his hands drop down to my hips and then lower, giving my bum a squeeze.

“Cut it out,” I scold him but it’s cancelled by the smile on my face. I shake my head and go back to the simmering pot.

“Is that tomato soup?” Harry’s suddenly distracted by the pot. We’d been having a lot of it this week because…well tomatoes.

“Nope, I’m making spaghetti sauce. From scratch.”

“Hey, didn’t you make that one time? When we were kids.”

“Hm,” I think back. It felt like so long ago but something niggles at me. “I think? I used to help my mum—it’s her recipe. Maybe you had dinner on a night we made it?”

“Yes. Dinner at your place, around Easter.”

I remember that Easter clearly but not for dinner. It was a night Harry and I had talked our lives all out.

“Aw. We were so young then.” I wrap my arms around Harry.

“I’m still young,” Harry says. “I’m in my prime.”

I pat his cheek. “Of course you are love.”

***

“Taylor I can’t really do this right now!” I tell my sister as she whines to me. No matter how old we got we were always somehow 17 and 12.

“C’mon just call mom! Tell her you met him and he’s really awesome.”

“I’m not lying to mom so you can invite your newest loser boyfriend to dinner. Anyway I can’t talk. I have to get to class!”

“I know.” She says weirdly. And I understand why when I walk into class and see her sitting in the front row. Ugh she knew I would try to blow her off!

My sister had somehow taken up the bad habit ever since her mid-20s of having a string of shitty boyfriends. We all blamed it on her longterm bloke breaking it off around her 26th. I don’t think she ever fully let herself heal from that.

After two separate guys were invited to two separate family dinners and both ended in mum or dad exploding over something, they were banned. This new guy, as she insists, was different. Mature. He deserved an invite.

She holds up 9 fingers and mouths, 9 months! That’s a long time!

I shake my head and start setting up my laptop.

“Hiya,” one of the students, Kim, walks up to me as I do so. “Sorry I was just wondering when we’re getting our assignments back? Will it be before midterms?”

Midterms were in 2 weeks for this class. The assignments were in my bag, marked and ready. I tell her and watch the relief spread through her.

I spend the next hour teaching, and before we break at the hour I announce I’d return assignments. As I call them out student walks down to me and pick them up, leaving with a smile or a frown.

“Philippe?” He had stuck to his word and his group had gone above and beyond. It was a beautiful paper, albeit overly-sourced. But I appreciated it.

“He’s not in,” one of his friends comes down to get it. She looks at me in that same way again, with just as much fear as curiosity. It’s odd.

“C’mon then,” I shake the paper I was holding out. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh sorry,” she grabs it from me in a rush I nearly get a papercut. She doesn’t even look at the grade, turning quickly away before halting, pivoting halfway, changing her mind, and running back up the steps to her seat. That group of kids were weird. Maybe they were on drugs.

I catch eyes with Taylor and she raises her brow. I shrug and continue handing out the papers.

I don’t expect the girl to come up to me after class. Her friend stays hovering behind, close to my sister who I know must be desperate to have sat here the whole lecture.

“Um ‘scuse me. Professor?”

“Yes?” She was the last person in the small line that had formed after class.

“I had a question about the assignment? You um, you said we missed the equations for our answers but they’re um-“ her hands are shaking as she flips the pages to the last page. “They’re on the bottom here.”

“Oh,” I did remember they were missing it but my pen marks were all over the back of it. “I must have missed that, bloody hell sorry about that!”

“Yeah um, do we get the extra points?”

“Of course but I-“ I glance back at Taylor. She’s talking to the friend. I had to get her out of here before she said something ridiculous. “I have office hours after my Monday class. I’ll have it remarked by then and you can pick it up?”

“Um, okay?”

I quickly shut my things down and grab my sister, getting her out as quick as possible.

“I’m a professional,” she reminds me. “Jeez. Anyway Y/n listen it’s the longest I’ve been in a relationship since, well y’know. 9 months! It’s different with this guy. He works like you! A cushy office job. He’s serious. Please!?”

I hadn’t seen Taylor since last month’s dinner when she had tried to convince me to get on board with this guy. She’d been pleading for a month. “Fine.”

“Oh I love you!” She squeezes my arm. “Text me when mom gives the okay.”

I sigh. I’d really got myself in the middle again.

I retell this to Harry when I get home.

“She’s persistent. But 9 months is a new record.”

“I know!” Harry knew all about her string of boys, I’d caught him up months ago. “Anyway I can’t believe she sat through the whole lecture.”

“Maybe this is the guy. The One.”

“You don’t believe in that do you?”

“Yeah?” He squints at me. “Of course I do?”

“So I’m The One?”

“Baby do I even need to say yes? I knew it as soon as I saw you when we were 14. You confirmed it when you kissed me on the roof that day.”

“I can’t believe I did that. I had my first drink that day by the way so I might’ve been drunk.”

“You were not drunk when you kissed me,” Harry points his fork at me.

“Look at you getting all worked up,” I tease.

“I’ll get you all worked up,” he mutters into his plate. I grin as I stretch my leg out under the table and run it up his leg. He grips my ankle when it gets too high and the look he gives me across the table sends my heart racing.

“Oops,” I drop my foot and go back to eating.

We put on a movie after, something we can zone out to. It doesn’t take Harry long to get bored and nuzzle into me, and it doesn’t take much longer after that before the movie is just for show and we’re tangled in our sheets.

There were 17 years of experience Harry showed up with now, and it was another one of those things that made catching up on lost time all the better.

***

In the first half hour of my office hours, the girl walks in. I should remember her name but I just associated her group with Philippe. I was surprised he wasn’t here actually. He seemed to be their spokesperson.

“Hi come in!” I wave her into the tiny cubicle-like room I borrowed for a few hours every Monday. “I’ve got your assignment here all done.”

“Thank you,” she hovers over my desk and I hand it over. Her fingers fidget with the strings of her hoodie and I seriously consider the drug angle. Or maybe her and her friends had serious anxiety issues. I didn’t miss that part about being a teen.

“You wanna flip through one more time? I try not to make mistakes twice but…”

She sits down tentatively and buries her head in the paper as she flips through.

“It’s alright,” she says. Her expression is so serious it nearly makes me laugh. She had pretty hair—blunt cut bangs that I remember rocking in my early 20s, but on her they hide the expression in her eyebrows. Maybe that’s why she always looked so sullen. Her lips are painted a pretty mauve colour and it complimented her green eyes.

“I really um…your class is really interesting.”

Kids saying that was like injecting pure joy right into my veins.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” I smile at her. But it still doesn’t crack a smile on her end. “It’s dense material but that’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if I was gonna keep the class.” It’s subtle but she inches back in the seat. The more she talks the more she relaxes back. “But I heard it was worth taking. And people were right.”

“Are you in your first or second year?” I ask.

“First,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s covered in piercings.

“How are you liking uni so far?”

She meets my eyes for a second before they shift away. “Yeah it’s nice? I’ve never lived away from home but I have some friends here that I’ve known since before so it helps. It’s really different, less structure but I like the freedom.”

Wow, she really spoke a lot more when she was comfortable. But I find it endearing.

“That’s really nice. It’s good to have a support system, especially with such big change.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Her eyes dart around the desk as she goes silent. I wait for her to get up and go but a minute passes and the room starts to feel even smaller.

I could ask her if she needed anything else, or maybe continue the conversation? Did she want me to ask about her? No, that would be weird.

“So um, was that your sister in class last week?”

Okay, didn’t see that coming.

“It was! My baby sister, although she’s not really a baby. Did she tell your friend that?”

She nods again. “She was talking to her.”

“You have any siblings?”

“An older sister yeah.”

“So you get it,” I say. “You love them, they get under your skin, you’d do anything for them, and the cycle continues.”

For the first time she smiles and my breath catches. For a moment…no. No, I was imagining things.

“Yeah. My sister and I were close growing up, but she’s the one person that really knows how to get under my skin. I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

“Probably,” I want to say something funny again. I just want to see her smile.

Back off, my inner voice says. Don’t do this again.

Some years back, when I was still in the throes of alcohol, I had followed a girl at the mall for nearly an hour. She had looked so much like my sister but with brown curly hair. I could have sworn it was her—my daughter. But after an hour of drunk stalking she had met up with her mum, a direct clone of her.

I couldn’t be obsessive again. Nobody knew about that phase. Not even Harry.

“D’you have any kids?” She asks. I don’t expect the question and it throws me off what with the thoughts looping in my head. She watches me, waiting for an answer.

“Um,” I usually answered no. To anyone who had asked in the last 18 years. But for some reason I nod today. “Yeah. One.”

I imagine it, I must have. Her face draws in for a second before she looks down. “Does she ever come to your lectures?”

“Oh no,” I feel the prick of tears and try to blink them away without being too obvious. “I’m not sure she’d find them interesting.”

“Oh.” She finally stands. “Maybe when she’s older…but I’ll see you on Thursday I guess?”

“Yeah,” I watch her go and realize she’d forgotten something. “Don’t forget your paper hon!”

She stiffens by the door before coming to get it.

“Sorry, it probably makes me a bad prof but there were two female names on the paper. Which one’s yours?”

“Bridget,” her voice cracks.

“Bridget,” I try to match the name to her face. It fit. “That’s lovely.”

She scurries out and I hear someone say “well!?” Outside followed by a “shh!”

I shake my head and try to focus back on my work, my heart racing an unusual amount.

***

It takes a couple days but I confess to Harry. He’d decided to meet up with me after class on Wednesday to eat out. We didn’t go far from the uni, a pub a few roads down. I actually spotted a couple former students there and they’d waved at me warmly.

“You’re not crazy,” Harry holds my hand on the table. “A few years ago I realized the volunteer interns we took on from the nearby school? They were the same age as her, teens? And I used to check up on them all the time, make sure they were feeling comfortable, until one of the guys on the team told me to quit being so weird and find someone my own age. I don’t know if it came across that way but…I got lost in that.”

“Oh Harry,” I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“Me too,” I pop another chip into my mouth. “But really I’d kind of pushed those memories out of my head until the other day. I can’t explain it, when she smiled it just felt like I knew her.”

“Yeah. Maybe she just looks like Taylor?”

We finish dinner while Harry tells me about a story about some friends of his I knew. We reminisce about our old friends as we wrap up and head out into the brisk November air.

We’re near the station when I gasp and clutch Harry’s arm. Standing outside one of the nearby pubs, smoking with her friends, was Bridget.

“Harry! That’s her!”

“What? Who?” He’s so oblivious as he whips his head around.

“Hushhh!” I nod towards the northwest side. His eyes scan the group. “Red beanie. We have to walk past just look at her okay? Tell me if you see it.”

Harry laughs to himself, “This feels like we’re in high school walking past a crush.”

“Is that how you walked past me?” I tease.

“I did.” He looks at me in that way that still gives me butterflies. It never got old.

“Stop making me want to jump your bones out here. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Hey I’ll still have a job to support us,” he whispers as we near closer to the group. “Feel free to do whatever you feel.”

“You’re a bad influence.” I whisper back. By now we’re a few feet away and I sense Harry slow down beside me.

Bridget’s nodding to whatever her friend is saying. Philippe is waving his drink around as he responds. We almost pass by unnoticed when someone completely different calls my name.

“Hey professor! Can we buy you a drink?”

I turn and spot a group of students I taught last semester. They were all friends, always battling out their wits during group discussions. It made my class lively, even distracting at times. But I tried going with the flow of whatever group of students I got.

“Hey kids!” I say. Then I have no choice but to acknowledge Bridget and her friends. “And more kids! Is this the new spot to be at?”

I sounded so lame but shite! We weren’t supposed to get caught.

“It’s always been popular,” one of my old students says. “Can we pick your brain? Buy you a drink? We can buy one for your friend too.”

“I uh,” I glance at Harry but he’s frozen solid. I look to what he’s looking at and it’s Bridget. They’re locked in some silent conversation and her friends eye each other. “Harry?”

“Huh?” He focuses on me, flushed and just as confused as I had looked on Monday.

“We’ve gotta get him home,” I pat Harry’s arm. “Our alcohol metabolizes differently at our age.”

“You’re not that old,” Bridget says. She seems to be surprised she said it at all and her eyes widen. “I just mean you look younger than my parents.”

“We’ll take that as a compliment.” I smile up at Harry who still looks a little lost.

“Miss aren’t you going to introduce your male friend?” One of my old student goads.

“Don’t assume,” the other chides.

“Aren’t you a nosy lot after a few drinks.” I missed dishing it back in class with them.

“Oops!” They laugh.

“Anyway. This is Harry.”

“You can call me Mr. Professor,” Harry jokes and it’s a crowd pleaser. God they were drunk. Harry leans into me, “I can see why you like teaching. They’re an ego-booster.”

“Not in a 6pm lecture on a Thursday night.” I whisper back. He hides his laugh.

“Are you guys heading home?” Now it’s Philippe. I’m surprised he was getting involved in the conversation. He was usually the quiet nervous type.

“We are. Need a good night’s rest so I’m not falling asleep in your lecture tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t mind,” Philippe goes for joker but his face flushes. It’s cute.

“Philippe you take way too many notes during class for me to believe that.”

His two friends, Bridget and the other girl, look at each other wide-eyed before losing it. And I watch Bridget’s face transform again and I get the same feeling. I look up at Harry and he’s transfixed.

I tug his sleeve and he looks at me, swallowing like he was parched.

“Weird right?”

“Yeah,” he whispers but his mouth turns down ever so slightly.

The girls are too busy cajoling Philippe to say goodbye to so we make our exit quietly. We don’t talk much on the train ride home but Harry simple holds his hand out on my thigh, palm up, and I lock my fingers into his. Even when we didn’t have words, we never stopped staying in touch.

***

It’s exam and holiday season before I know it.

I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year. It was the first that Harry was going to join with my family. Taylor’s bloke was also showing. He had been a hit with my parents and even I could admit he was the better of all the guys she’s every brought over.

It’s the last 30 minutes of the last exam I was facilitating this year. I announce the time left to the group. There were only about 15 kids left.

Bridget is one of them. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear and bite her lip. She’d been pretty quiet the remainder of the semester, and I tried not to let my eyes wander to her too much.

After that night, bumping into her with Harry, we hadn’t spoken much about it. The hope that was initially so buoyant turned crushing as we faced the reality that the odds were slim to none. That our wishes were just pennies tossed in a fountain, sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Dreary winter days pass by and Harry and I try to keep the seasonal depression away with regular outdoor dates, cozy nights in bed, and seeing friends as often as we could.

On Christmas we go to my parents’. It’s a loud affair as my grandparents and a few cousins join us. After dinner I go up to my childhood bedroom, it’s now a guest room but some of my things still lay around. I open the window, it was cold so I drag a blanket out and sit outside. The street is quiet, I see families in a few open windows and I watch the festivities through them. I feel a mix of nostalgia and an ache that goes even beyond that, like I was missing something.

“Y/n?” Of course Harry would find me even though I’d left the door closed and the window tilted.

“Here,” I say.

“Ah,” he struggles to hoist himself out. “Some things never change.”

“You need help?” I watch him climb on all fours.

“I’m steady,” he grins as he crawls to me. I open the blanket and he gets in.

We sit in silence for a bit.

“It was getting really loud downstairs wasn’t it?” I ask.

“I think your grandma’s in love with Taylor’s guy.” Harry says so bluntly that I burst out laughing. He joins in.

“I feel like old people get to flirt with whoever they want because it’s always harmless.”

“Maybe that’s the case with older women,” Harry grimaces. “Can’t say the same thing about old men now can we?”

“Jesus!” I laugh and then laugh even harder when Harry says: “it is his day.”

By the time I wipe my tears Harry’s gazing down at me.

“Sorry,” I lean my head against his shoulder. “You have to stop being so funny.”

“Nah,” he kisses my head. “Have I never told you how much I like your laugh?”

He had. On a night many years ago on a roof like this.

I go to remind him but he’s pulling away. I watch as he shifts to face my slowly. He pulls something out from behind him and my brain only connects the dots as he starts talking.

“Y/N, this is something I wish I could have done 18 years ago but only feels incredibly right to do now. Especially out here.”

“Harry,” I gasp. When did he get the ring? When had he planned this?

“We somehow found our way back to each other again y/n, and you know I love you more than ever before.” He clears his throat as it clouds with emotion. “Some 18 years ago I told you I knew you, because the first time I ever laid eyes on you my heart knew. You were something special. And I never ever want to spend another moment apart again. So Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour and finally be mine? Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” If I wasn’t sitting on a roof I would launch myself at Harry. I settle for pulling his face down to mine and kissing it. “I’ve always been yours Harry. But yes, of course yes!”

He slides the ring on and it fits perfectly.

It was perfect.

When we go back down my mum knows right away, and if it was loud before it’s absolute chaos as everyone descends on me and demands to know how he proposed and how the ring looks.

“On the roof? When there’s a perfectly pretty tree here?” My grandma asks. Harry and I exchange a look then, trying not to laugh all over again.

We ring in the New Year with friends, as fiancés. I can hardly believe it. Apparently most of our friends knew Harry was going to propose and they all toast to us and our happiness.

Somewhere in mid-January, I drop by my parents’ house to drop off some groceries. That’s when my dad hands me a letter that had been mailed home.

“It came for you, I dunno who thinks you still live here but it looks handwritten.”

I take it from my dad as I say one last goodbye. I barely make it to the tube with wobbly legs. Because somewhere inside I know.

It’s a long and agonizing 2 hours that I wait for Harry to come home. He finds me sitting in the dark; the sun had set while I waited, and I’d been too busy staring at the feminine scrawl on the front of the letter to turn on the lights.

“Hello-y/n, what are you doing in the dark?”

Harry drops his things where they are when I look at him. “Y/n are you alright? Say something.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I just push the letter forward.

He walks towards it. It’s like he hits a brick wall when he puts the pieces together, he halts a foot away.

“What is that?”

“Is was…” I try to swallow so my voice doesn’t sound so hoarse. “My dad gave it to me. It was sent to the house.”

“Is it…”

“I was waiting for you.”

Suddenly he’s in motion. He puffs his cheeks out and lets out a noisy sigh. Then he paces the floor one, two, three, four times before standing in front of the couch.

“We should read it.” I say.

“Yeah,” he deflates into the couch. I want to join him but it feels like my arse has been glued to the chair.

I inch it towards me and Harry nods. He wanted me to read it.

My mouth is parched. I can barely make out any sounds as I open it up. It’s three pages folded in two, the paper itself isn’t anything very special, it’s typed up so it’s literally just ink on paper. And yet it’s worth a whole goldmine.

“Y/n and Harry,” I read before my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. Our baby girl had written to us. She had reached out.

“C’mon love,” Harry’s suddenly beside me and his hand squeezes my neck. The touch gives me enough strength to stand with him. He sets me down where he just sat and leaves again, returning with water and the letter.

“Can you read it?” I ask.

He settles in beside me, we touch along every edge of us. The letter sits in between us like our love, our hurting—it’s where it belongs. He begins to read in his soothing voice.

“Y/n and Harry,

I hope it’s okay I’m calling you that. I don’t know if it’s proper but ever since I found out about you two last year that’s what I’ve been calling you.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and I intertwine my arm through his. He kisses my temple and continues.

“When I turned 15, I asked my mum about you. I started to wonder where I came from. I knew I was adopted for as long as I could remember but it didn’t mean much to me for a long time—I had a mother, a father, and a sister. I had a family so why did I need to know where I came from?

But over the last few years it’s been like an itch I couldn’t get to. See when I was 15, what set it off is that my sister decided to look into her birth parents. They were separated, her father lived in Tokyo and her mother lived in Wales. It took her a year to convince our parents to go to Wales. I went with and I found myself in the home of a woman who looked just like the girl I grew up with. The whole time it ate away at me. I wanted this ending too.

I asked my mum and dad when I turned 15 but they were weird and evasive. I turned my skills to the internet but I didn’t really know where to start.

I felt the missing part more and more as I turned 16. I used to fall asleep thinking about you two, if you were alive, what you looked like, where you were, what you did.

I love my parents. They’re wonderful and amazing, they are supportive and never made us feel like we were anything but theirs. But I wanted to know my background.

On my 17th birthday my parents gave me a letter like the one I write today.” Harry stops reading and takes in a deep shuddering breath. “She got the letter.”

His shoulder shake and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I clench my teeth so I wouldn’t cry too. I wanted to finish this letter. I wrap my arms around him and hold him.

This was unbelievable, what we’d dreamed of. Her words, in our hands.

“Here.” I take the letter from him and continue. “Let me read it.”

Harry stays hunched over, so with my hand on his back I continue, “in it you told me how much you loved me. How much you loved each other, your families, where I came from. And Why you had to give me up. For a better life. I saw the picture of you, and I felt broken and complete at the same time. I realized I was the same age as you in the photo, I had to meet you but I was terrified. And I didn’t know how.

I spent a year agonizing and looking through every google page I could find about you. I learned a lot! But I needed to meet you.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve made decisions that may not have been the best but I’ve left my number and a picture of me when I was 5 in the envelope.

I hope you call.”

With shaking hands I turn to the third page that has one of those polaroids taped to it and a phone number in the same handwriting as the envelope.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry says while tears continue streaming down his face. I can’t even hide mine anymore.

She was beautiful indeed. She had his eyes, and her curly locks in a deep brown frame her chubby face. She had my nose, she looked a little like my sister as a baby. A scatter of freckles over her cheeks confirm it. She was ours. Our baby had reached out. We knew what she looked like.

“We need to call her,” I say. “We need to meet.”

“Yeah,” Harry wipes his face. “We…we need to do this carefully. It’s delicate right?”

I wanted to call her right now but what would I do but cry into the phone? No, I had to wrap my head around this. Harry was right. “Right.”

“She’s out there,” Harry turns to me. “She wants to know us. Y/n she wants to meet us! She saw the picture I-“

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “Our daughter wants to—did she leave her name?”

We open the letter and flip over every piece of it but her name is nowhere.

“Maybe she didn’t want us looking her up?” Harry offers.

“Maybe she has an awful digital footprint.”

Something about it makes us laugh and we can’t stop. But pretty soon it shifts back into tears and we’re left holding each other on the couch, tender and content and anxious.

Our daughter had made contact. Would she like us? Would she be mad at us? What did this mean for us?

The thoughts continue to spiral the rest of the evening. We don’t make much of an effort, we reread the letter and try to get dinner in us. We face each other as we try to fall asleep, whispering questions into the darkness. The darkness doesn’t answer, it grows heavier as does the night, and we fall asleep for the first time in our lives knowing the weight of a decision so long ago was a tiny bit lighter.

***

It’s a few days later. All I’d been thinking about was the letter, when I woke up, at work, during my commute, during breaks, when I went to bed.

It sits on our dining table, we glance at it as we pass by. It becomes part of the decor, three pieces of paper and an envelope. It’s so much weightier than that.

I come home from my lecture on Wednesday, a slight buzz of anxiety humming in the background. It wasn’t unusual for Harry and I to get busy at work and not talk the whole day but today Harry had been radio silent. He hadn’t answered my texts or phone calls in a very un-Harry way.

I walk in to Harry sitting on the couch in the dark, staring at the coffee table. On it sits the letter.

“Hey,” I don’t even take off my jacket. I slide next to him. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey,” he whispers. He stays frozen sitting forward, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hand.

I wait for him to speak, to say something about what was going on. I rub my hand over his back and he glances up. I tip forward until our foreheads touch. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? Let me help you.”

“It’s a lot,” he whispers. It tears me in two.

“Hey,” I remind him. “Just one day at a time. Let’s just talk about today.”

“I want to call her so bad,” he leans away and buries his head in his hands. I wanted to call her too, I’d been waiting for Harry to give the cue since I knew I could be rash and impulsive about something like this. But something was going on with him.

“We will.”

“We gave her up. What if she hates us?”

“She wouldn’t have written us that beautiful letter, or sent a photo, or left her number if she did.”

Harry sniffles and then asks what he really wanted to, “what if she hates me.”

“Harry look at me,” He unfolds slowly and I make sure he’s looking at me. “You’re her father, you’ve carried her with you for the last 18 years. You love her. She wants to know you. Why would she hate you?”

“I’ve fucked up so much!”

“You’re not your mistakes.” I remind him. I get teary eyed as I feel the echoes of his insecurities. I’ve thought about it too: what if I didn’t meet her expectations? “She’s not going to see you and see every good and bad decisions you’ve ever made. She’s just going to see her father—her biological father, and see where she got her eyes from and her hair from and every other quirk she has.”

“You’re not worried?” He asks, looking at me with grief.

“Of course I am,” I confess, tears leaking out of my eyes damnit. “I’m so fucking worried. But my curiosity overtakes that, my love for her is what I’m focusing on.”

“I love her,” he says.

“That’s all that matters.” I cup his face and press a reassuring kiss to his lips. “That’s all she’ll care about.”

Harry untangles himself from me and my heart sinks. He paces the length of our living room a few times, running his hand through his hair.

“We really should talk about the letter,” he says.

“Yeah. I know. I want to call. Badly.”

He pauses. It’s like all the anxious energy drains out of him at once. He sits back down beside me.

“What do we do?” I ask

“How about Saturday? She’s probably going to be home then right? No school—if she’s in school.”

Two days. Two more days of agonizing over the letter.

At this point the letter is memorized, seared into my brain like I had an exam on it. I want to know the person behind it.

When we wake on Saturday it’s a cloudy day. I don’t take it as a bad omen.

We sit with our phones out after breakfast, just staring at everything before us.

“You should do the talking,” I tell Harry. “I’m too nervous.”

“I think you should.” Harry says. “She sent the letter to you.”

“Only because that’s the address my mum gave…gave her mum.”

It hits me again in another wave I try not to drown in. She was eighteen, she’d lived a whole life with a whole family. There was everything of her we’d missed out on.

“Please Harry?” I was already overwhelmed with the realization. I just couldn’t.

He watches me, must hear the desperation in my voice, and slowly pulls his phone forward.

It rings, and rings a few more times. When it goes to voicemail he turns it off.

“I didn’t think that was an option,” Harry says and we laugh. It feels good.

“It’s only 10 maybe she’s asleep. Try one more time?”

He pulls my phone and tries again but it still goes to voicemail.

We sit there, unsure of what to do. We agree to try again later, in the afternoon.

But around half past 12, while Harry’s working in our spare room and I’m scrolling through my phone, it rings. I don’t think much of it and pick it up automatically.

“Hello?” It’s silent on the other end. “Hello?”

I wait, but as I do it dawns on me. Who called me?

I check my phone screen and swipe through as I say hello again. I match the number. It was her.

I run to Harry but the phone is still silent. I wave the paper with the number saying hello again.

“Is this…well you never gave us your name. But we got your letter. We’re so gl-“

The line goes dead and so does my heart.

“You called her again?” Harry whispers, his brows furrowing as he stares at the phone.

“She called.” I think about calling her back but that was pushy. She was backing out of this.

All of a sudden I feel myself giving out. I catch myself against the wall and slide down.

“She’s backing out. It must be…too much for her.”

Harry stares at a spot on the ground, a million thoughts flickering through. Finally it settles on acceptance. He sighs.

“We can’t force her to talk to us,” he says softly what I already know. But his words are like a saw to my resolve and I just start crying. He gathers me in his arms but the grief feels endless. It felt like she was slipping away again; I’d lost so much and I lost her again. She had been so close. How could she do this? Why did she reach out if she wasn’t ready?

Questions without answers. More of them piled on top of the lifetime of questions I’d built for her.

I know Harry feels the weight of them too. We carry them together. That’s the only reason I hadn’t broken yet.

But I come close to it that day. We don’t hear back from her. And we don’t try to call her back. It didn’t feel right.

It killed me she was so close. And something changes inside.

For weeks I feel like I’m on autopilot. It’s like my first semester of uni all over again.

Harry tries his best to keep me together but he struggles too. It makes me feel worse I was taking the bigger hit, not being there for him as much as I wanted. But life feels like a a million blankets covering me.

I try to keep my usual momentum for my classes, but I’m always exhausted after. It pulls me deeper into my sadness, something I loved made me so tried.

It’s a Thursday at the end of the semester and I’m marking exams during my study hours when there’s a light knock on the door.

I’m surprised to see an old student.

“Bridget,” I wave her in. “Come in, what can I do you for?”

“Hi professor-“

“Call me y/n, I’m not teaching you anymore am I?”

“No,” she says with a stiff smile. The last time I saw her was in February, I’d spotted her with Philippe and a few other friends at a local coffee shop. She had been explaining something to one of her friends from a textbook.

Now her hair was short and more pronounced with waves. I wonder if she styled it, her longer hair had been pin straight.

“I had a question?”

You already asked it, I want to joke. But she was usually wound up so I knew it wouldn’t land well.

“What’s that?”

“Um, well.” She perches on the chair and I wait patiently for her to continue. “Are you taking any applications for TA next year?”

I wasn’t expecting that. She always found a way to take me by surprise. I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to remember what year she was in.

“Aren’t you in first year? If I do TAs they’re usually 3rd or above.”

“I know,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “But seeing that one of my majors is in econ and my gpa is really high, and I did well in your class, I wondered if you would consider me?”

I hadn’t done TAs since my first year of teaching. I found I liked the work because it got me more familiar with the class.

“What’s your other major?” She had said one of them was econ.

“Sociology, I’m pre-law.”

Ambitious. “Why TA for my class?”

She balks as she meets my gaze. There’s something that flits through her face that I can’t quite read before she drops eye contact.

“Um, I really enjoyed it. I did really well. I think you’re super smart and would learn a lot by TA-ing for you.”

“I don’t give special lessons to my TA,” I let her know. “You’d typically attend some of the classes, mark assignments, and maybe teach exam tutorials, and have office hours of your own for students.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Why should I pick you?”

She pushes her shoulders back, “I’m responsible, dependable, I submit all my assignments on time and have experience teaching.”

“Teaching?”

“I used to tutor when I was in high school. I didn’t really get an allowance so I found a way to support my hobbies.”

“What are your hobbies?”

She blushes a little, was she still nervous? “I love reading, books are expensive.”

I nod. For Harry’s birthday I’d told him he could get any books from Waterstones and it had been over £100 for 3 only.

“I also enjoy cooking. And um, it’s been a while but my friends and I sometimes go to like. Do you know comic con?”

“Yes,” I’d seen things online.

“Yeah we liked to dress up for that sort of thing. We used to make our own outfits and usually the cost varies depending on what you’re making and how realistic you want it and…” she trails off as I smile. She was really enthusiastic about it. I couldn’t help it.

“Tell you what. Leave your number with me and I’ll think about it. I haven’t had a TA for the last few semesters but I am going to take this into consideration.”

“Really?!”

I laugh. “Yes. Really.”

“Um…” she starts to fidget again. “Can I leave my email? I’m getting a new phone soon so I-“

“Sure. Anywhere I can reach you.”

I expect her to get out a pen but she says it verbally and I type it out.

“Um, are you alright?” She asks out of the blue after I type in the last letter.

“Alright?” I raise my brow.

“I mean, you seem…I just heard, um.” She tries to backtrack but I ask her again and she spills. “Some people just said your last few classes seem scattered. Not that people don’t like you. I just…that’s what they were saying. And I don’t know if having a TA would help? And I just wanted to ask if you’re okay sorry I shouldn’t…it’s none of my business.”

God, this girl was so awkward. But she was sweet for caring, I think. “You’re not applying for the role because you feel bad that I seem…scattered right?”

She blushes. “Sorry. I think I said too much.”

I want to laugh but it strikes me that my students had noticed. I’d let it affect their learning. It didn’t feel very good.

“Life’s hitting me hard recently,” I tell her simply. “But I’m alright. Thank you for reaching out Bridget.”

As I finish up the semester I think about her. It wouldn’t hurt to have her TA for one of my lectures, see how she does. I didn’t care for TAs as a lecturer but something about her is compelling and I find myself emailing her in the middle of the night in June. She responds back a few minutes later,

Thank you!!! You’re the best. I’ll do whatever you need just tell me I can do anythingggh

Sent from iphone.

I laugh to myself as I put my phone away and go back to bed. My guesses were she was drunk at a party.

Harry’s asleep beside me and I reach out to touch his back but think better of it. He’d been busy at work with a project nearing its deadline and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him.

I turn around and try to drift off, thinking about my daughter, about how Harry and I hadn’t really talked much in the last two weeks, about my teaching, and my new TA.

Age 38:

It’s a depressing summer. The air of dashed hopes still hangs around Harry and I. It’s less thunder clouds and more of a fog.

One weekend morning, it’s one of those mornings that start off heavy. I can’t get out of bed, but I hear Harry pattering about doing his weekend morning thing. I hear the dishwasher turn on, and soon after he walks in with our laundry folded in a basket. I feel awful as I normally do, but not awful enough to get up and do anything about it. I think I’d have to feel less awful, to do that.

I don’t expect him to get in beside me once he’s finished putting everything away. He smells like laundry and shampoo, I must smell like rot and decay.

“Y/n,” he says gingerly. I just look at him in response. I felt too heavy to even reply. He sits up and calls my name again.

“Mm,” I say.

He sighs. Despite months of this Harry’s been nothing but understanding but this morning seems different.

Suddenly I’m being pulled up by my shoulders and I find myself sitting up in bed.

“Y/N,” Harry says again. I fold my arms as the duvet slips down and the cool air raises goosebumps. “I love you, which is why it’s so hard seeing you like this. You have to get on, my love. We have to move forward. It’s been months.”

All I could remember after our daughter hung the phone up on us was when I almost got to hold her. Right after she was born, I almost got to hold her but they took her away. And that piece of me that followed after her was nearly returned. It was that almost that was a death blow.

“It’s hard,” I feel myself tear up. It was hard not to these days.

“I know baby,” Harry scoops me into him. “I know. It’s hard for me too but we have to get better. We have to live our lives. She’ll come back to us, I just know it. She’s scared, we’re hopeful. Fear’s gonna keep her away. Hope keeps us patient.”

I cry into his shirt and he rocks me.

“I’m sorry,” I say into his shirt.

“It’s alright,” he grips the back of my neck.

So for Harry, for us, I try to get back to myself. I start to pick up my outdoor hobbies, I try to keep conversations going with Harry, I reintroduce my multi-step night routine. I look forward and re-light the candle of hope, even though I ache to blow it out before it can burn down to its wick.

My wounds inside stay tender.

We had booked our wedding for November and as the days approach we find ourselves with one thing on our mind.

Harry and I finally talk about it.

“I always thought she’d be there at the wedding once she reached out.”

We’re sat in an outdoor space near King’s Cross, coffees in hand as we people watch. We’d just come back from a cake tasting and neither of us felt like going home with such a glorious August day. Kids splash in the water sprinklers and couples sit around arm in arm. I touch shoulders with Harry unconsciously.

“Me too. I think that’s what’s kept me from mentally committing to the fact that the date is coming closer.”

“It can’t be forever,” Harry says. “She reached out. She just needs time. She’ll call again one day and we’ll meet her.”

“I know.” I lean my head on his shoulder. This was a realization I’d also been slowly digesting. I’d waited 18 years, what was a few more months, another year? Her baby picture lived on our fridge, at least we were one step closer.

And the love, I had to remind myself in these moments. Hold onto the love.

***

“I can’t stay for this class,” Bridget tells me. It’s the second week of classes and there were still 10 minutes until it officially started.

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” that’s when I notice her nose is red and her eyes are too. “My um, my parents had to put my dog down. She…she wasn’t feeling well yesterday and the-they found cancer? And she was in a lot of pain but she never showed it? And-“

I put my hand on Briget’s shoulder and lead her to the exit. There was no reason for the whole class to see this.

“Sorry. I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” I rub her shoulder. “I understand. Take the time you need I have this covered.”

True to her word, Bridget had been a loyal TA over the summer. I considered it a trial run not expecting much but she had shown up, aced marking, and I’d gotten good feedback from the students at the end of the semester.

I’d also taken to her. She’d join me during my 2 hours every Monday and when no students would come she would loosen up. She’d told me all about the dog she grew up with, she showed me costumes her friends and her made, I’d asked her about the books she was reading and the classes she was taking. It was like having a younger sister again, except I was mature enough to appreciate her.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Bridget says and this statements seems to be the breaking point. She curls in on herself, shoulders shaking. I don’t even think, I just pull her into me like I would for Harry, for Taylor, for any of my friends.

“You have a lifetime of memories with her,” I hold her. At first she stiffens up and I almost let her go but she only breaks down further and wraps her arms around me. Tighter than I expected.

“I wish I said goodbye,” she says into my shoulder.

“I know hon,” I squeeze her against me, something maternal washing over me. “I know.”

After a minute or so she regains her composure, wiping her face with her sleeve. When she looks at me she looks so much younger, her face grief-stricken and regretful.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be.”

She seems to want to say something more but whatever it is, she swallows it and takes a step away.

I don’t see her for two weeks and I miss her.

When she walks into the lecture the first week of October I try not to rush her but I’m overjoyed seeing her face. It had become so familiar to me.

She smiles shyly when she walks up to me and I pull her into a hug. This time she doesn’t stiffen.

“How are you?” I whisper. Students were still trickling in so I use the time to catch up.

“Okay. Better than that day I cried all over you sorry again. I went home last week, thanks for letting me take it off.”

“Of course. You forget I’ve been doing this without a TA before you. I can hold down the fort.”

She cracks a smile, her dimple making a rare appearance.

“By the way, week 10’s lecture is supposed to be cancelled.” I tell her later during office hours. “But I wondered if you wanted to hold a tutorial that week for some of the material?”

“Really?” A light comes on in her eye. It’s fiery and bright with excitement.

“Yeah! You know the material! I’ll leave you with slides and you can go about teaching them.”

“I’d love to!” She grips her laptop close to her. “Wait why is it cancelled?”

“I’m getting married that week!”

The light dims. Or maybe I imagine it.

“Oh! I thought you were married already?”

“No,” I’d referred to Harry as my partner any time he was brought up. “We’re getting married in November. You’ve met him actually, kind of, that night we ran into you and some students at the pub. Last year?”

“Oh yeah I remember,” she says but her eyes are somewhere else. “So you’re getting married?”

“Yes Bridget,” I laugh. “Married. Tying the knot. You alright?”

“Yeah,” she blinks and she’s back. “You never mentioned the wedding. Do you have a dress?”

“Yeah! Just finalized the tailoring last week. Most things are ready, we’re just finalizing the rings!”

“Cool!” She fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “Is it in London?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big but we didn’t want people travelling too far. This is where Harry and I were born and raised so this is where we want to marry too.”

“Wow,” she seems lost in thought and she stays pretty quiet the rest of the time. I didn’t realize my news was that surprising.

Maybe I still didn’t have Bridget completely figured out.

***

“Harry I can’t pick them up! I need to get home and then head back out to class!”

“Y/n it’s on your way home!”

“Not really! It’s a 30 minute detour. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you can still get to him right before he closes. I won’t be done here until after he closes. I’m sorry love!”

“Agh and why can’t he do tomorrow?”

“He’s off until Saturday! We need it today.”

It’s the Wednesday before we marry and our rings are still at the jeweller’s. He’d finished them last weekend but we’d been so busy with other things we hadn’t had time to pick it up. And now it was either today and be late for class, or the day of the wedding.

I had gotten delayed at work and missed Harry’s texts explaining the situation. I’d only responded while on the tube, but going out of my way for 30 minutes meant I’d be 30 minutes late to get back to class. And since I’d left marked assignments at home that the kids needed for next week’s tutorial, I had no choice but to head back.

The idea hits me at once.

I hang up on Harry and ring Bridget. She picks up right away.

“Bridget, I’m on a crazy tight schedule. I’m going to be late to class by half hour at least.”

“Oh no. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah it’s just wedding thing but can you do something crazy? And feel free to say no okay?”

“Okay?”

I explain to her that if she rode to my flat, Harry would be there by then and she could pick up marked assignment. She can delay class by taking them up.

She’s silent but eventually I get a yes. “Okay. Can you text me your address?”

“Yes! Yes. Thank you Bridget. I owe you your trip fare and lunch or something. I’ll text you now, leave as soon as you can!”

I call Harry again and confirm he’d be home by the time she arrived. Everything works out.

I get the rings, and have to head home so Harry can try his on. The jeweller was expecting both of us, and let me know he couldn’t do adjustments if I didn’t text him by today. Just my luck!

When I get to the flat I tell Harry not to read his inscription but to try it on and thankfully it fits.

“Hey,” Harry calls out as I try to rush back out the door.

“What?” I was out of breath and frantic.

“Slow down,” he pulls me into a lingering kiss and despite being breathless before, I get some air into my lungs when we part.

“Sorry, so hectic.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he strokes my cheek. “I would have gone if I could make it. Also don’t be mad.”

“Be mad?” I let go of the door handle. “What did you do?”

“Your TA stopped by, Bridget. I forgot she was coming so I didn’t have your papers ready. I invited her in and she was in the living room looking at our pictures and she stopped in front of the baby picture. Of our daughter.”

“Okay,” did Harry tell her our history? I get antsy. “And?”

“Well she asked if that was our daughter. And I didn’t know what to say, if you’ve said anything to her? I panicked?” Harry runs his hand through his hair. “I just changed the subject.”

“Okay, that’s not bad. What’s the bad part I don’t get it?”

“Well. I changed the subject and told her she should come to the wedding.”

My jaw drops. “Harry.”

“I know! I know I’m sorry! I know she technically works for you, she was a student, all that! You’re so fond of her though maybe it’s not a bad thing?”

“Harry that’s…she was my student! I’m a prof at that school I…is that even allowed?”

“Yes? I panicked and googled it.”

I groan, “I swear you’re getting worse the closer we get to the wedding.”

The other week he had tried to buy out a whole bakery in case there wasn’t enough cake for our guests.

“You can tell her we have a full guest list? I don’t know what came over me! She just looked at me with those puppy eyes and she asked about the picture and I tried to talk about something else but the only thing on my mind-“

I kiss him. Just to shut him up. I was getting really late.

“This is like that book club you were tricked into joining all over again-“

“Hey I really like that book club now! It might be a good thing!”

“We’ll talk later.” I shake my head at him. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. It’s weird but what’s one more guest?”

“I also said plus one.”

I let out a long exhale and then kiss Harry again. I didn’t want him spiralling while I was gone.

“Baby don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m fine with it. We’ll talk when I get home?”

I mull over it on the ride to uni. But I can’t find a way to uninvite her without it being awful. I text our wedding planner if we could squeeze in two more seats and she gives me the thumbs up.

I did have a soft spot for Bridget, and technically I’ve known her for over a year now.

During office hours, we get a few people in for the first half hour. Then we’re back to just the two of us.

“Thanks for taking over today,” I tell her. “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s alright. Happy to help out.”

An awkward silence slithers in.

“So my partner invited you to our wedding.”

“Yeah! I didn’t know if that was serious am I…?”

She looked so hopeful I couldn’t shoot her down. “Yes! I have a couple people from the faculty coming. And some colleagues from my day job. You’ll probably have to sit with them but?”

“That’s fine!” She’s chirpy Bridget again. “I’d love to. That would mean a lot.”

I watch her as the smile stays on and she gets out her phone, typing away. Maybe her friends, her plus one.

I realize I’m not entirely against it. It had happened, and I was okay.

***

I stare at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress in a nervous habit. I never thought I’d get married twice, I always thought after Tatum I was done with marriage, but Harry would always be the exception.

I feel a flutter of nerves thinking about him. Walking down the aisle to him. We started talking on a rooftop one day, we had just been two kids.

“You better not cry,” Taylor threatens as she walks into the room. She had gone to fetch lash glue after my teary eyes loosened an edge.

“I’m not,” I say weakly.

She stands beside me in the mirror, “They’re all waiting downstairs.”

Just 30 minutes ago this room had been a chaotic mess. From my mum, to my friends, to the wedding planner. I’m kind of glad my lash came loose, I’m able to ground myself in these few minutes of silence.

Taylor talks about our family downstairs as she fixes my face. I get up with her help and she beams, but her eyes look misty.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing!”

“Why do you look sad what happened?”

“Oh my god calm down, I just can’t believe you and Harry are getting your happy ending! I’m just…emotional.”

“Aww,” I cup her face even though I want to squeeze my baby sister against me. But my white dress, although not entirely traditional, would be ruined for the ceremony.

A ping on her phone—mum. We rush out. It feels like getting caught when we were younger and quickly getting away from the scene of the crime. I grip my sister’s hand until I stand in front of the doors leading down the aisle.

I don’t remember walking, it felt more like floating. Even if there was a chimpanzee and a talking dog in the pews I wouldn’t have noticed. My eyes are locked on Harry’s teary ones, they anchor me as I glide towards the man I’ve never stopped loving. Who always saw all of me.

When he reaches for my hand I grasp it and I know I made the right decisions. Even the painful ones. After all, I wanted to be nowhere but here.

“Y/N,” Harry reads his vows to me and I try not to cry as he sweeps me away with his delicate words about our love story.

“To be so deeply known by another, without even saying a word, shouldn’t make sense and yet with us we have a language that goes beyond words. A brush of your hand or a look in my direction, it can be enough to unload whatever burden I’d just been carrying. I promise to do the same for you, and to never end this dialogue between us. To love you and to cherish you forever.”

Harry couldn’t keep the tears in and they slide down his cheeks as he reads his words out to me. I reach out instinctively and brush his tear away and he laughs because I was doing it again.

“You’re can’t make me cry in my makeup,” I tell him and our guests laugh.

I had sat and thought so hard about my own vows. In the end after 50 versions, I’d settled on short and sweet.

“Harry, when we first spoke on the rooftop of that party in high school,” I say at my turn. “You told me everything you wanted. One of them was to make the world a better place. And I don’t know if you still want those things as much now as you did then, but one thing is true. You’re made my world a better place. I can’t imagine doing life without you. I love you with all of my heart, there’s no equation that could calculate how much.”

Harry grins at me and my breath catches. My man, he was my Harry.

We finish our vows with a kiss and a lot of noise from the crowd. When we turn to everyone I’m struck by how lucky we were.

The absence of our daughter was tough but when it came to love we had an abundance of it. I see it in every smiling and shiny face in the crowd. It’s like photographing a sunny day with one of those old school films, the sun is covered by a dark spot but the rays still wash everything in gold.

Harry squeezes my hand and I look up to him. He’s already looking at me.

He holds his hand up and lets out a whoop before he pulls my face towards him again for an even longer and borderline inappropriate kiss. I feel myself start to blush in front of the crowd.

We start down the aisle and this time I beam at every guest I catch eyes with.

My mum and Harry’s wave with tear-streaked faces. My friends from high school shout out, always the biggest supporters of our relationship. I catch eyes with Bridget, forgetting for a second she was here. Philippe is beside her, but what’s surprising is her blotchy face. I didn’t take her for someone who got emotional at weddings. I throw her a wave and she smiles through the tears.

Whoever ordered weddings to have a small break between the ceremony and the reception deserved a billion dollars. Harry and I spend the quiet moment doing our outfit change but afterwards we hold each other and let the moment sink in. The day sink in.

“We’re married,” Harry whispers when I tell him we should get going so we weren’t late.

“We took the long way to get here didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” he tucks me under his chin again and even though we would be late we just sway together for a little while. Our own private first dance, before the one for our family and friends.

“We did it all quite backwards actually.” I look up to him.

“Yeah, but we were never ordinary.”

“No, and I don’t think anything we’ve ever done is either.”

“Including our kid. I really wish she were here.”

“We’ll tell her all about it one day,” I promise him. His face eases into a loving smile, the fact that we’d made it to a place again where I can comfort him about this said a lot. Said we’d make it through everything, despite.

“I don’t want to do life with anyone else y/n, I have everything I need right here.”

“Remember that day at Whole Foods?” I remind him. “The first time we bumped into each other.”

“It’s a core memory,” Harry remembers. “I feel like the sun never set on that day. Getting to see you after all those years…it’s cheesy but it felt like coming home.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Me too. I recognized you by the back of your head did I ever tell you that?”

“Stared at it enough in maths, of course you did.”

“That’s probably why I did so poorly that year remember,” I laugh. “Just staring at the back of your head.”

“That’s why I never sat anywhere but in front of you.” He swipes lightly down my nose and I smile. “Now I get to see every angle of you whenever I want.”

“Oi,” I slap his chest. “Save it for tonight.”

He brushes my cheek. Under his gaze I’m stripped naked. There was nothing to hide with him, ever.

“I understand how long it took you to get ready,” he says in his deep silky voice. My stomach flips. “So I can’t do anything right now. But y/n, our wedding night will turn into a wedding dawn, and then to day again. I promise you.”

I tip-toe, even in my heels, and brush my lips along his cheek. In his ear I whisper, “I don’t expect anything less.”

I step away, feeling unravelled by the look of desire in his eyes. I’m sure I had the same look of want. But before we can give in to what we wanted to do, I open the door to our suite and embrace the gust of cool air.

“You should get some air too,” I say and he laughs, following me behind.

***

“Bitch!” Taylor comes up to me on the dance floor later that night. We had dinner, Harry and I had our first dance, there’d been toasts and tears in between. I was finally letting loose as the wedding party crowds the dance floor. We had been taking pictures all night, after this next glass of champagne I was going to call it quits on photos lest anyone captures anything that’s not an elegant bride.

“What?” I turn away from Harry to face Taylor. She’d been running around all day making sure my wedding day was perfect and seeing her just warms me with love. I squeeze her against me despite her protests. “I love you Taylor. Thank you for everything!”

“Ugh c’mon,” she wriggles out. She’d never been very affectionate.

“Where’s your bloke?” I look out for him.

“He taking a call. Anyway don’t change the fucking subject!”

“What subject!?” I ask as someone dances past me, fluttering their fingers in my direction. I blow them a kiss.

“C’mere,” she’s annoyed I’m distracted. She drags me off to the side and I hold a finger up to Harry as he watches us. “When the fuck were you going to tell us about her? And you invite her to your wedding and everything and nobody knows anything!?”

“What?” I was drunker than I thought or Taylor was making no sense. “Wha?”

“The girl you just took a photo with? Don’t act stupid Y/N jeez I can’t believe it. You hid it from me when it happened but why are you still hiding…”

My sister grows more upset as she talks, I realize it was serious. Taylor rarely allowed herself to get this worked up in public.

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off. I think hard about who she was talking about. Who had I just taken photos with?

Some of Harry’s friends took a picture lifting us up, then there was a photo with my cousin but that can’t be who Taylor was talking about. There was Andie, a few other friends and their partners, then Bridget and Bridget and Philippe.

Bridget.

“Wait what are…who do you think that is? Taylor I work-“

“Your daughter! Why are you still acting fucking clueless!”

“What’s happening?” Harry walks in mid-way into the conversation.

“God you too!” Taylor turns to him and hits the back of her hand on his chest. He rubs the spot and stares at her like she’d gone crazy.

“Me too what?”

“Harry?” His mum walks up to us, her brows pulled together the same way Harry’s does when he’s confused.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s that girl? With the brown hair? Purple dress?”

She’s eyeing Bridget who’s laughing with Philippe.

“Bridget?” Harry glances at me and Taylor grows more pink.

“Bridget? That’s her name?” Taylor blinks away tears. “Really y/n? I get when it happened I was a child, you and mom kept it from me. But she’s, you invite her to you-“

“Invite who?!” I shout. What the hell did Taylor think.

“Y/n,” Harry puts his hand on my lower back in warning.

“Your daughter?” Taylor says with teary eyes and a look of betrayal on her face. “That’s your daughter isn’t it? She looks just like…”

“Jesus I thought the same thing,” Anne looks at all of us. “Harry?”

“That’s not-“ he stops talking and we all look over at her. I had to say, right now she really could be. With her hair curled and wearing what she’s wearing. She could be family.

“She’s my TA. I’ve known her for a couple years guys I’ve bloody taught her. That’s not our daughter. She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight? Harry invited her last minute.”

They all turn to look at me. Taylor looks miffed, she bites her lip as she looks at her one last time.

“That’s weird. Nevermind.”

She leaves like she didn’t just make a big scene. Anne covers her hand with her mouth and shakes her head. “I’m sorry loves, I didn’t mean to upset anyone-“

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassure her. Taylor did. And she couldn’t even say sorry.

“Don’t worry mum,” Harry pays her arm. She fades into the crowd and Harry stands in front of me so all I see is him. “She’ll get air, she’ll be fine.”

“But how could she just cause such a big scene like I’d hide something like that from her? On my wedding day! And then leave without even apologizing ugh! She is still such a brat sometimes!”

“I know, she’ll apologize later just let her be.” He knew Taylor enough. He knew her at 13 and he knew her now. That’s exactly what she would do. “We’re getting you a shot.”

“That’s the last thing I need! I’m already kinda tipsy Har.”

“This won’t tip you over c’mon. Shake it off.”

He leads me to the bar and we take a shot. I nearly spill half of it, it was awful whatever it was. I lose Harry as we get back to the dancing and end up behind Bridget instead. Philippe noticed me first and slows his dancing, which signals Bridget to turn around.

“Y/n!” Her smile is so bright it hurts to look at. It dims as I just stare at her.

It would be crazy. It was a big fat coincidence. She had a mum, a dad, a sister, she told me all about them. Her childhood dog and the time she twisted her ankle playing football in year 4. She wasn’t who we wanted her to be.

“Are you alright?” I read her lips. There’s only ringing in my ears. “Hey! Y/n!”

Philippe is suddenly on my other side and I’m being led to a chair. He disappears and Bridget pulls a chair beside me.

“What’s,” my voice sticks and I clear my throat. “What’s going on between you two? He’s your date?”

“Philippe?” Bridget’s brows draw together and I can’t stop looking at where they meet. I knew her. I didn’t know her. I was too afraid to ask. “No just friends.”

“That’s not the way he’s looking at you.”

“What?” She tucks her hair back. “No we’ve been friends since high school. It’s not like that?”

“What would you do if he got a girlfriend?” It was a random conversation to have, here and right now but it helps me from tumbling anywhere else. Especially into a pool of what-ifs.

“I’d,” she shrugs but a flicker passes through her face, for a second her jaw clenches. “Be happy for him.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not! Why are you asking?”

“You two like each other. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Why did you invite him tonight?”

She shrugs, picking at something on her arm. “I dunno. He’s good at being a plus one. He always supports me? He’s always been there for me.”

“Sorry,” he shows up with a glass of water. “I swear the guy behind the bar was ignoring me.”

“Thank you Philippe,” by now I didn’t really need the water but I hold the icy glass in my hands. “Let’s see the pictures you took. I want them in my inbox or something soon. We don’t get our official photos for months.”

“Oh yeah here,” Phillipe hands over his phone after opening the photo. There are a couple of all of us, and then a few with just Bridget standing between Harry and I smiling.

I look between all three of us and feel something in my gut. But it’s too scary and big to unpack right now. I shove it away. I couldn’t do this. Not today, not tonight.

“You look beautiful Bridget,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Did I already say that?”

“Yeah,” she smiles awkwardly. “You said that before the photo.”

“You do. And so do you Philippe. Thank you for attending my wedding.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Bridget looks at me wide-eyed, like she’s about to say something but when Philippe’s hand lands on her shoulder she looks down.

“What?” I ask anyway. Her eyes dart like prey to me, to Philippe, and down to her hands. I grab her hand and force her to look at me, like I could read something in her eyes. Like I would know. “Bridget.”

She looks up and her eyes well with tears as we look into each other’s eyes. My throat feels tight like I was having an allergic reaction, it travels down to my chest, I inadvertently feel myself squeezing her hand.

“I’m so-“

“Bridget,” Philippe’s voice cuts through whatever Bridget was going to apologize for. I look up at him and he’s burning a hole staring at her that hard. Over his head I see Harry.

“Oh look I see my husband,” Harry’s spots me too, relief in his features. His eyes stay on my face as he walks towards me and his eyes keep my steady. I want to tell him something, but everything that just happened was so non-verbal and unreal that I think I made it all up. I must be because this was insane and there was no explanation other than I was drunk, and sadder than I realized. “Gotta go kids. Have fun. I think I need another shot.”

I remember the rest of the night in snapshots. I forget myself later, giving myself up to Harry after that. We actually make it to dawn in a mixture of love and declarations, filthy words and I love yous, laughter and deeper conversations. It’s everything we were. It’s just like he promised.

***

Life moves on and I don’t bring anything up to Harry. I couldn’t, either I’m wrong and get his hopes up, or he thinks I’d gone insane in my sadness.

I feel like Bridget avoids me the week after, I return to class and she sits there, even takes questions after class, but she makes an excuse of studying during office hours and I barely get a few words with her. The week after she has an exam and she skips out after class.

I’m antsy. I want to know more about her; from her. I’m tempted to find a way to access her profile, get more info via the school. But I wait.

Harry notices, as we prep for our honeymoon booked over the holidays, he continues to ask if I was alright. And I try to convince us both I was.

About 3 weeks after the wedding, it’s a Saturday afternoon. Harry’s making lunch and I’m sitting in a pile of our books trying to decide what can be donated.

“Can you get that?” Harry asks.

“Hm?”

“The door?” He says just as there’s another knock. I’d been so entranced in the book I’d randomly started reading a passage of I hadn’t even heard.

I scramble to get it before the next knock and nearly stumble back when I find Bridget at the door.

“Hiya,” she says with an awkward wave.

“Hi…Bridget. What…come in what’s going on?”

“Sorry? Now that I’m here I should have called first.” She comes in and I go further in, waiting for her to follow. She hesitates before peeling her wet boots off.

“Harry? We have a guest,” I announce as I take her further into the home. I guess she’d already been here once before. “Bridget what can we do you for? Did you need something?”

“Bridget!” Harry pops out of the kitchen into the adjoined living room when we get closer. “Nice to see you again! I’m nearly done lunch, did you want to stay?”

What was it with Harry randomly inviting Bridget to things that were not pre-discussed.

“Um, I no. I probably shouldn’t. I just, came by to talk?”

“Sure,” I lead her to our dining table. “Is it about school? Did something happen?”

I sit across from her and Harry mumbles something, turning the dials down on the stovetop before sitting beside me.

Bridget’s eyes dart everywhere, from me to Harry, to the pictures on the wall, the kitchen, the books all over the floor.

“I was just doing a clearout,” I say to fill the silence. “Hey you like books right? Look through that pile there later if you want any of ‘em.”

“Actually,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. I feel Harry tense beside me. “I have a book for you.”

She leans down to where her tote rests and pulls something out. She lays it on her lap first, where we can’t see it. When she looks up to us she has tears in her eyes and her chin quivers.

“Please,” she whispers before pausing. My stomach drops as I take her in. Her face is blotchy and her hair hangs around her face, hiding half of it. She’s definitely cried before coming here, and I almost feel like deja vu as she places the book on the table. “Please don’t hate me.”

She slides it across to us. It’s just a simple leather hardcover, about 30cm by 30cm. The thing in my gut, the suspicion or the intuition, it turns into a cackling ball of energy and moves up to my sternum. I put my hand over it, and then move it to Harry’s leg. He’s frozen like a statue, staring at the book.

“Please open it?” Bridget says with tears streaking her face.

When Harry doesn’t make a move I pull it the rest of the way towards us. I open the first page to a few baby pictures.

I’d never held her in my hands, never even saw her. I’d pushed her out into this world, into another’s arms. But somehow I know who this is.

“Bridget,” I don’t even look at her. I start to frantically flip through the pages. The baby grows, 2 months, 6 months, 1 years old. Another girl joins in some photos, she always has an arm around the other child. I flip and flip and flip and even though I’m expecting it the photo stops my breathing.

I stare at the clone, or the original, of the photo on my fridge.

I’m frozen until another photo is slid towards us. It comes into view: two teenagers on Halloween night. The guy is dressed like the girl, the girl is dressed like the guy.

I throw my chair back and in the time it takes to walk to Bridget she stands too.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs but I just do what I wanted to do the second she was born.

I hug her. I hold her to my chest the way I never got to over 19 years ago. She belonged here. She never got to be here.

She was finally home. My daughter.

“Bridget,” I cry into her hair. Harry’s hair. She had Harry’s hair, his eyes. She got my nose and everything else. I was holding my daughter. She was in my arms, finally.

She really did look like Taylor as a baby.

“I’m sorry,” she cries again. “I was so scared and I screwed up and-“

“No.” I say fiercely. I push her out of the hug so I can grab her face. I wipe her tears and I nearly cry again. How many tears had I missed? Over skinned knees, playground taunts, first crushes and friendship breakups. How many tears had I missed? “Don’t say that. You’re here. You’re—Harry!”

I turn to him, why wasn’t he here?

He’s sat exactly where he was before. Frozen, staring at a spot between the picture of us and Bridget.

I let go of Bridget and move back to him.

“Baby,” I touch his arm and he springs up. Tears coat his lashes.

“‘Scuse me,” he brushes past me and heads out into the hall. Away from us. I want to go after him but I don’t want to leave Bridget—our daughter, alone.

“I’m sorry I knew I would ruin things I-“

“Please,” I want to go after him so bad but I go to Bridget and pull her into a gentler hug. When we part I keep hold of her shoulders. I never wanted to let her go. “He’s just processing it. He’s fine. He’s not mad at you I promise. Promise.”

She bites her lip, it reminds me of Taylor. She was a bit of everyone I knew and loved. She was the love that Harry and I always had. She was ours.

“I just got so scared when I tried to reach…I didn’t mean to deceive you. I didn’t. I felt terrible every day.”

“It’s okay,” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing to be sorry about-“

“But I saw you,” she cuts me off. “After I finally called you back and then just like, ghosted you. And every time I saw you at school it was like…I knew I was to blame. And it made me want to tell you even more but I got more scared any time I came close to it. I almost said it at your wedding—it would have been so stupid. Philippe stopped me.”

“I understand,” I did. I also didn’t care about any of it. She was here. That’s all I cared about. I wanted to know everything about her, I needed Harry here though. “Look Harry…your…Harry. I’m just going to check on him. You stay here and just…”

I trail off and leave. I had to be sure he was okay.

He’s not in the bedroom, or the office. I try the door to the toilet and it opens, he’s sitting on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands.

“She leave?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Oh baby,” I crouch in front of him. “No. She’s still here but I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m pathetic,” he buries his hands in his hair. “I’ve been waiting my whole adult life for this and all I do is freeze. Her first impression is of her dad just freezing and then running away.”

I try not to laugh at his dramatic retelling. “Har you know that’s not true. She’s known you before this. It was a shock-“

“You were fine.”

“You know I…always suspected. Especially after the wedding.”

He looks up at that, finally. “You never said.”

“Harry, I felt crazy. Saying it out loud would have forced me to check myself into the psych ward. We all react differently, it doesn’t matter though. Our baby girl is here. The day we talked about!”

He takes a deep breath, and then another one. I guide him to stand and he looks so limp and sad that I squeeze him in a hug. “She doesn’t care how you reacted. She just wants to know you.”

Harry sighs again, he splashes his face with water and we walk out. I was nervous for him.

We walk back into the living room and my heart sinks when Bridget isn’t there. But her things are?

A few steps further and she’s at the stovetop, stirring a pot.

“Oh sorry,” she steps back and nearly throws the spatula into the pot. “It was boiling a lot and-“

“Bridget,” Harry ignores most of what she’s saying and she freezes at the sound of her name. He’s a foot away from her now. I watch him raise a hand to her face and then drop it. His face is a cross between heartbreak and awe as they drink each other in. I wait in anticipation.

“Hi,” she finally says shyly. But it breaks the ice. Harry pulls her into a hug and she returns it tenfold from the looks of it. I can’t tell who’s crying, but I give them their moment as I turn the dials off on the stovetop.

It was just a regular Saturday, except it wasn’t. Our worlds exploded with our past and was putting itself back together again, all the old broken pieces were being mended back together with love. My chest drowns in it, I can barely breathe. In Harry’s arms, there’s no denying she’s ours.

***

“Thank you,” Bridget says as we tuck into dinner. Harry’s lunch prep had gone cold as we’d all sat down and talked about how Bridget found us (looking me up, finding out I was teaching a course she was interested in, forcing her friend Philippe to take it to see if I was who she thought I was), and going through her album. I found out more about her sister Louisa and her parents. It was weird seeing pictures of them, in my mind they were the people that took my baby as their own and for Bridget they were mum and dad.

We finally decide to do something about food when our stomachs rumble. Harry goes back to cooking, showing Bridget what he’s doing until she leaves to take a call. I recognize Philippe on the caller ID.

I take Bridget’s place but I’m more of an extra weight tied to Harry’s back as I hug hun from behind. We don’t even have words on what this all means to us. For now, just touching each other keeps us grounded, it keeps is in what was happening together.

Bridget comes back from the call when we’re nearly done.

“I just want to say I am sorry—and I know you said not to be,” Bridget says quickly before I can get a word in. “But I never meant to deceive the both of you. My plan was to take your class, leave the letter and then talk. I Googled you so much it felt like I knew you. Yet when we spoke in your office that day, you felt familiar but In a different way than the person I studied. I just liked you so much, and I wanted you to like me. I was scared maybe you wouldn’t. So I just screwed the plan and messed up everything.”

“Hey,” Harry hands her a tissue and she takes it. Under the table he squeezes my hand. “It’s in the past.”

“I know. Still made me feel awful. And I couldn’t tell you but I also couldn’t stay away. I applied for TA and, it felt like having a friend and a sister and a mentor all in one. And I…I screwed up. I took it too far. And then you invited me to your wedding—I got to attend my parents’ wedding! It was so absurd. I couldn’t stop crying.”

Sounded like me. But I don’t say anything. We listen to her attentively.

“I only told my sister. I wanted to tell you two before I told my parents.”

I think about my parents. Harry’s. I didn’t want to overwhelm her but I couldn’t wait to introduce her to everyone that already loved her.

“I just hope…no, I know I hurt you two a lot. I didn’t mean to. I am really sorry about it all.”

“Bridget,” Harry’s hand comes down on hers. “What’s done is over. There are so many things we wish we did differently but ultimately it’s all done. All that matters is you’re here, now. You’re our daughter we never got to meet and you’re finally here.”

Harry’s voice cracks on the last word and he sits back and laughs away the tears. “Sorry. I’m a mess today aren’t I? Your first impression of me is a crying mess.”

“That’s not my first impression,” Bridget laughs but her eyes also fill with tears. “That night at the pub. When I saw you two together I nearly bloody fainted! When I looked you up y/n, there’d been an old wedding registry with another bloke. But then seeing you two together?! I just couldn’t believe it—I thought I dreamed it. And then I nearly cried because my bio parents were somehow together?? And the way you just stared into my soul it felt like you knew who I was.”

I laugh, remembering but also knowing exactly what look Bridget was talking about. “He does have a piercing look doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It could gut someone!”

“That makes it sound awful!” Harry laughs. “Don’t say that.”

“It nearly gutted me! I really thought oh shite—“ Bridget freezes and looks between us like we were gonna scold her for swearing and I nearly leap across the table to hug her again then. “I uhm, I thought you knew who I was.”

“We thought it then,” I let my eyes roam over her. I realize I’d always been a mother, despite not having my daughter. Holding her earlier had awoken an instinct in me and now every time I look at her I feel a rush of love and something fierce. I wonder if Harry felt it too. “But we thought we were mental!”

Her phone chimes as we laugh. She flips it around and then tucks it into her purse.

“You need to take that?” Harry asks.

“No it’s just Philippe. He was at the wedding? I was just talking to him, I hadn’t texted him in a while he wanted to know how it went.”

“Philippe,” I say with a knowing smile. Bridget blushes and Harry asks what he’s missing out on so I fill him in.

“He sounds like a good lad,” Harry comments.

“A good lad?” I repeat. “Are you hearing him?”

Bridget laughs behind her hand and I can’t stop staring at her. I have to force myself to go back to eating.

“He is. I might have told him about how I felt?”

“Wow,” I put my fork down. “You’re confessing an awful lot lately.”

She blushes even deeper. And suddenly I’m grateful of the weird and layered way she’d come into our lives. Despite hiding the truth, it had allowed us to get to know each other as people first. Without any baggage or give me any inclination to fit who I thought she should be onto who was in front of me.

I got to know her for the young woman she was first, so did Harry in a way. And I would be forever grateful for that despite all the pain in between.

“Sorry,” I get up. The affection was overflowing from my cup. “I’m going to give you another hug because I just can’t believe all this.”

“Ohh,” Bridget stands to meet me and we wrap our arms around each other. Here was a girl I already knew, here was my daughter waiting to be known.

“God, she really is our daughter.” Harry quips from his side of the table. He explains when Bridget looks over at him, “y/n is known to be a big touchy person, I’m kinda like that too.”

“Oh my god,” she smiles at us. “I’m like that too! My sister hates hugs. My dad’s 2 pats on the back man, 3 if he’s feeling a lot. I always wondered if…”

She trails off. It seems to hit all of us all over again every so often. For me it’s when she talks about her mum and dad and it’s not Harry and I. The reminder that she went 19 years becoming her own person that we now were catching up on.

For her, it seems it was realizing all the parts of us that were in her.

“You got Harry’s hair, and eyes.” I comment.

“I did! I realized that as soon as I saw a photo online. But I do look a bit like you.”

“You do! I should show you some younger pictures of us and our families. You’ll see more similarities.”

“Wow. So you have a younger sister. How about you Harry?”

“Older sister. Seems we all have sisters.”

Bridget and I make eye contact, remembering a conversation we had what feels like ages ago about having sisters.

We continue our dinner, swapping stories and filling her in on anything she wants to know. She leaves after, claiming to have to get back home, she had an exam on Monday to study for.

When she leaves Harry and I can’t stop talking about her. Or gushing would be more accurate.

“Did you see the way she laughs?” I’d tell him. “Pure you!”

“The way she tucks her hair back,” he would retaliate. “Just like you. You did that especially back in secondary.”

We talk until we’re exhausted, crawling into bed just staring in wonder. There were still so many details to figure out, so many things to cover, it could drown a person thinking of it all.

But like an anchor in the sea, Harry and I fall asleep with hand clasped together. We keep each other buoyed amidst it all.

It was going to take time for this all to sink in but all I’ve ever had was time, and questions. I think I was finally getting time and answers.

Age 39:

Harry’s pov: Having our daughter in our lives is simple and complicated at the same time. At first there were a lot of things to untangle but as time went on, the knots loosened until our lives became their own knots, tangled into each other.

Meeting her parents, the people I met once many years ago, was likely the strangest part. They already felt so familiar as soon as they greeted us in a warm embrace, as if we were there own children. I guess the last time they saw us we were.

“Oh look at you,” Bridget’s mum had squeezed us tight. Her dad had pat us three times and we took it to mean as much as a hug.

In my mind they were always the age they had been then. They were probably around the age we are now. Seeing them sport greys and fine lines, it was like stepping into a time portal.

Lou, Bridget’s sister, eyes us for the first little while before warming up and sharing all kinds of stories—especially the embarrassing kind with us.

When Bridget meets Y/n’s family, I can tell they’re loud and overwhelming at first but we’re all surprised when Taylor embraces Bridget and takes to her immediately.

She brings out old pictures they had of Y/N and I, but every time she says, “your mum and dad…” when she talks about us through the pictures, I notice y/n protesting less and less.

It makes me feel funny, I keep thinking I was going to wake up and find out it had all been a dream.

“This feels very full circle to me,” y/n’s mum says. She’s watching Taylor talk about her baby bump—she was 3 months along. “I saw Bridget as a wee baby when they handed her over to her parents. I remember running late to hospital and making it to the room just in time to see it. I blinked and now she’s in my living room!”

“Sometimes I feel the same way,” I confess.

My family is slightly quietier but they all fuss over our daughter. They ask a million questions and when it’s all over we take Bridget for ice cream. It’s a pseudo-recreation of a life we never had.

Bridget eases into it too. At first she had bouts of disappearing on us. No more than a couple days. But we give her space, understanding it was overwhelming.

Every time I see her, I see her mum—y/n. I was never there when y/n gave birth. We had to drive up from London when we got the news and by the time I got there the dust had settled.

I never even had the potential of seeing her. I’d always been more sympathetic of y/n; her loss had been physical, mine was slightly more abstract.

Even though I’d spent every year since regretting that I wasn’t there to at least glimpse her, I’m glad now I hadn’t been there to see her. If I had to live the last 18 years with this feeling in my chest I don’t think I could have lasted that long. I don’t know how y/n did it. It’s a concoction of deep unconditional love, and tenderness, and recognition, wrapped in a shell of protectiveness. It took me a while to sort through it all but I had a conversation with my parents one night at dinner Y/n and I had visited. And they’d laughed because they had told me that was simply what being a parent was.

“Maybe she regrets it,” I had said the second time she ghosted us. Really it had just been over a day where she hadn’t gotten back to us. But I couldn’t help the overthinking, being tuned into any potential of loss with our daughter.

Somehow, y/n was the cool headed between us two in these moments. Maybe it was being a mum, maybe it was knowing Bridget beforehand, but she was very in sync with her.

“She needs space. The last thing we want her to be is overwhelmed too. Now don’t overwhelm yourself love, at least she’s in our lives.” She’d say.

It takes us the start of the summer and all those meets later for Bridget to finally feel at ease.

We invite her on a road trip, we were renting a place in the Cotswold for a few days and told her to bring Philippe. When she doesn’t even hesitate to say yes Y/n tells me we’d done it: she was finally more comfortable than overwhelmed.

“Y/N made me a better man,” I say after a couple drinks. We’re all sat around a fire outside the house. Despite it being a warm day of hiking the night had cooled significantly and we’d decided that boozy hot cocoas was the way to go. “I’ve lost my ways a lot of times as an adult. But she’s always been my north star. Even when we got back together she led me to being sober and getting my shite together.”

“Oh…” Philippe looks down at his drink. “Are you…”

“No,” I laugh, Philippe was the most-conscientious teen I’d ever met. “I got sober to get my life in order. But…it’s in order now. I haven’t done anything crazy for over a year now.”

A little before our wedding I decided I wanted to end my sobriety. It had been a thought for months, and I had waited before giving in. But I really felt more in control of my life. I faced my life decisions head on, I confronted my past with y/n’s help, and I didn’t think I’d lose control again. It had been a shaky first week but I was right. It was a proud moment for me.

“You two really have something special,” Bridget comments.

“They do,” Philippe adds. “I can’t believe you got your happy ending after so many years!”

“Yeah,” y/n says as I lay my hand on her thigh, palm up. “Y’know what they say about loving someone and letting them go.”

“I guess you did that with me,” Bridget says so quietly we almost don’t hear her. But out here in the countryside we do.

“We didn’t want to,” I remind her.

“No I know.” She smiles, it’s a bit sad. Philippe tugs her closer. I could see how much he cared for her in that small gesture. “I’m not saying it like that. I hear your story and I just imagine how different my life would have been if I was raised by my, by you two. I wouldn’t have this life. And I really like this life.”

She looks at Philippe and I feel y/n squeeze my hand. She often said they reminded her of us when we were younger; the kind of love you’d do anything for.

“But you two loved me enough to let me go. To let each other go. It’s fucking sad but it’s beautiful. Life’s weird.”

“Here here,” Y/N raises her nearly empty cup of hot cocoa. “Life’s weird, sad, beautiful, but lately my life’s been full of so much love. I wish I could sell all the excess, I think I could solve a lot of world problems with it.”

“Wow,” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “That’s one hell of a speech.”

“I have a speech,” Philippe stands, a little tipsy, and clears his throat. Bridget rolls her eyes but they shine for him. “Bridget you’re the love of my life. Since we were 13. But Harry and Y/N, I think I love you too. Ever since we were 15, I’ve watched Bridge struggle for answers about her past. And you two have given her all the answers, welcomed her—and me actually, into your lovely life. I’ve watched her become old Bridge but even more confident. I’m falling harder for her these days. And I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aw Philippe come here,” y/n lets of my hand to walk around and give him a hug. How quickly strangers became family.

Bridget grumbles about being left out and joins the hug. Soon I join in too. I want to create a mold of this moment, I think as I squeeze them against me, I’d make it out of plaster and let it dry. Any time we wanted, we could always find our way back to this moment here.

Age 40:

Y/N and I watch our daughter cross the stage. Beside us are our parents and in front of us sits Bridget’s parents and her sister. She has a whole army cheering for her. This was the first milestone event we could all really show up for, and show up we did.

“I can’t believe this,” I was so proud of her. I know the kudos went to her parents, and herself, but I beam with pride. Honestly Bridget could spin in a circle in front of me and I would be a proud dad.

“We need to get photos,” mum leans over and says so seriously, as if we hadn’t planned on getting a million already.

We have a framed picture in our hall, Y/N and I on our wedding day, our daughter in between us. Her graduation photo is definitely making it. She makes fun of this wall, calls it the Styles hall of fame, and I never mention it but she always lingers a few second longer in front of the photo of the three of us.

I do too.

“It makes me so sad you won’t be so close to me anymore,” my mum tells Bridget later. We’re all piled in our flat, drinks and celebratory cake in everyone’s hands.

It reminds me of mine and y/n’s 40th birthday, we had gathered our family and friends here and it was some of their first times meeting our daughter. Today is more intimate, and focused on Bridget.

“I know it makes me sad too, but I’ll be here often, visiting Philippe.”

“Only visiting Philippe?” I raise a brow.

“Is there someone else I’m supposed to be visiting?” She mirrors my raised brow.

As Bridget’s gotten more comfortable, me and her could banter for hours if you let us, it’s one of those things that brought us closer together—having the same sense of humour. It’s allowed us to have just as deep heart-to-hearts, a handy joke always close to the surface.

Y/N always says seeing me like that, thoughtful and silly, reminds her of the boy she fell for. I can’t deny that I’ve been feeling closer to my 20 year old self than my 40 year old self lately.

“She’s too cheeky,” Bridget’s mum says. “But I have to say I’ll be glad to have her back.”

Lou, Bridget’s sister, was moving to Wales. Apparently she wanted to know more about her background, and take a trip with her bio mum to visit her bio dad.

I think Bridget was moving back to Coventry to keep her parents’ loneliness away; she said she would commute to Birmingham for school. Even though she got accepted into law schools in London, going to a uni close to her parents just showed me how close she was to her parents. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“I’ll have somebody to watch cricket with again,” her dad says.

“Ohh,” Bridget throws her sister a side-eye. “I love cricket…”

We all laugh at her complete lack of concealing her true feelings.

Later that night, it’s just Bridget’s parents and us. The kids are on the balcony talking.

“I know we’ve said it before,” I say after a long silence. We’d just been watching the kids talk and laugh outside. “But I want to say thank you again.”

Bridget’s dad shakes his head. “It was the greatest pleasure of our lives getting to raise those two girls.”

He looks over at his wife and they smile at one another. Seeing them interact, I’m grateful that somehow fate had led us to them. While Y/N and I were figuring life out, while I fucked up a lot of things, she was raised on a steady and stable foundation.

“She’s incredible,” I murmur. “She’s gonna be a lawyer. She’s going to change the world.”

“She sure will,” her mum says. “We should be thanking you two. For giving us Bridget. I know it wasn’t easy, you told me you thought about her nearly every day. But we can’t imagine our lives without her.”

We sit in a comfortable silence, looking out at the kids until they notice and start to ask questions through the glass.

“She’s happier,” her mum says smiling at Bridget and Lou exaggerating their words through the glass. “She stopped being like this before she left for uni. We thought we lost her but…I think everything worked out for the best.”

Y/N glances at me. Her eyes crinkle when she finds me looking at her first, her eyes steady me as she says what I was thinking, “I think so too.”

Age 45

Your pov: “When did she say she would be here?”

“6?” Harry says for the tenth time.

“It’s 6:20 do you think something happened? She hasn’t texted has she?”

“My love,” Harry puts down the cutlery he was arranging on the table and holds my face in his hands. “They’re driving from Coventry, they probably hit some traffic.”

“Maybe I should call her?”

Harry sighs and squishes my face.

“Don’t! You’ll make more wrinkles.” I warn.

“I love your wrinkles,” Harry kisses my forehead right where the pesky wrinkles had been growing deeper over the last few years despite the additions to my night routine.

Harry always said our wrinkles were just the stories of our lives showing through. I told him to get himself undereye cream.

“You don’t think I’m aging handsomely?” He strokes the moustache he started growing last year. At this age, even I couldn’t deny it made him even more attractive.

“Well it’s no good if you’re ageing handsomely and I age like a troll.”

“I will love you if you age into a troll.”

“But will you love me if I turn into a worm?”

“Do you even have to ask? I’d buy you the best soil and keep you in a beautiful pot.”

“You wouldn’t take me fishing?” I ask. He sighs. Last year while we were taking a trip up north for Lou’s wedding, we’d gotten into a fight and when I asked him the question while he was still stewing he said he’d take me fishing. It had, ironically, broken the iciness of his anger and we’d laughed about it so hard he’d nearly had to pull over.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he wraps me into his chest nearly suffocating me.

I’d spent half my life with a lot of difficulties, but life now felt easy compared to it. I had the privilege of getting older with the man I adored, got to watch my daughter flourish as an adult and a lawyer, watch her get married to the love of her life, and all the while live comfortably in the heart of this city I called home.

When Bruno starts barking though, I gasp and push myself off of Harry, “that’s them!”

Bruno continues to bark as I rush to the door. We’d got him a couple years ago as a pup and I can’t believe it had taken us that long to get a dog. He filled our lives with laughter and long walks. We loved him.

“Down.” I say to him. I open the door and hold my hands out while Bruno runs in circles beside me.

“Ahhh sorry we’re late!” Bridget steps into my hug and I tug Philippe’s hood so he can join. Bruno goes for Philippe when they walk in, he’d gotten obsessed with him after Philippe took care of him while Harry and I took an anniversary trip last year.

“Where are my hellos!?” Bridget says to Bruno and he barks, standing on his back legs to paw at her leg.

I hadn’t seen the two of them since March, that was 6 months ago. It had been their wedding, and they’d gone on a month long honeymoon after that, after which Harry and I had taken time off to road trip around Europe with Bruno, and then time had just zipped by.

After a hearty dinner, Harry and I carry out the birthday cake we’d been hiding.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Bridget fans her face but we treat it like we do any special occasion, plus making up for all the ones we’d missed. We get photos and exchange presents, she cries reading the cards and the whole time she says she had a present for us.

It’s a small bag, Harry and I guess that it was something for Bruno but when we take out a box it doesn’t sound like much when we shake it.

“Is this a prank gift? There’s nothing in it?” Harry asks.

“Open it!” He was making me antsy.

“You open it,” he hands me the box. Bridget and Philippe stare intently at my hands.

I undo the bow and slowly open the box. There’s a small square of tissue paper, and then a piece of paper. I remove both but something catches my eye.

I flip the paper over and stop breathing.

“Is that-“ Harry stops talking too. We stare at the piece of paper in our hands. It looks so much like one I had held 28 years ago. But it’s not.

“Bridge,” I look up at the couple. The parents-to-be.

“We’re having a baby,” Bridget says. Philippe and her are gripping hands and I throw everything off of me to launch myself at her.

“A baby!” I hear Harry say and joining us. “You’re having a baby! Y/n!”

“I never thought we’d be grandparents,” I look up at Harry.

“Those wrinkles were coming in for a reason,” he teases.

We never did have any other kids. Quite frankly, neither of us wanted any. When we first got together we were just starting to get comfortable with the reminder that we had a daughter out there and we could talk about her freely with each other. It felt like having a third person in our little family.

After Harry proposed, while we planned our wedding, we talked about it but we never thought it felt right. We both had first marriages where a lack of conceiving had just put a strain on the relationship we didn’t think we needed. We’d also felt like it was betraying something, before we met our first child.

When Bridget did reach out, it became about catching up on lost time. And then with her in our lives we knew what we suspected all along. We had each other, and that was enough. Bridge was our bonus. And getting to be aunt and uncle to our nieces and nephews it was enough. It was a full enough life.

We never even dreamed in our 20s we’d get to be parents and now we would get to be grandparents! I never realized until this moment that I wanted this. Really wanted it.

“Do you know the gender?” Harry asks.

“No,” Philippe answers. “We were thinking of doing one of those reveal parties? But not for a couple months.”

“Wow,” my hands drift down to Bridget’s belly and I remember I had something. I leap away from the group and find the box in my closet, it’s painted pink with random collages from old magazines. It hosts old diaries, photos, a hospital bracelet, and an ultrasound.

“This was you once,” I show her the picture when I get back. “I carried you like that once upon a time.”

She takes it with teary eyes, holding it close to her face to make out the shape of her. She hands it to Philippe and grabs my hands.

“I’ve thought about it before, but when I got pregnant I couldn’t wait to tell you-“

“She kept telling me I had to make a trip out to London just so she could give you the news.” Philippe interrupts, eyes scanning the ultrasound still.

“No really,” Bridget laughs. “I did. It’s like I got this new perspective.”

She puts my hands on her belly and covers mine with hers. I feel everything at once then, all the heartbreak I ever went through to get here.

“I can’t imagine giving this baby up. And it’s barely 3 months. What you were willing to do to give me a better life-“

She breaks off and Philippe squeezes her shoulder. I watch my daughter try to gain control of her emotions. I remember when I was pregnant with her, anything would set me off.

“It must not have been easy. After carrying me like this for 9 whole months. Thank you-“ she looks up to where Harry’s standing. I barely register his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you as my mum and dad, for making the hardest decision I can imagine ever making, so I could have something you knew you couldn’t provide.”

I reel my tears in, save them for later that night in bed while Harry holds me tight against him.

Right now I kiss my daughter and tell her what a good mother she will make. I tell her and Philippe how proud I was of them, how excited, how wonderful this was.

Age 46

The day we meet our granddaughter is seared into my brain. We get the call at 8:35pm, Harry and I were staying in a B&B in Coventry despite Bridget’s mum insisting we stay with her. We’d been here all weekend, booked it all week, not wanting to miss Bridget’s delivery date.

“Y/N she’s here,” her mum whispers into the phone. Her voice is filled with joy and giddiness. “She’s here.”

“We’re coming,” I say. Harry’s already at the door and we rush out into the night to see our granddaughter.

She has the perfect little face, and when she finally wakes up I gasp when I see Harry’s eyes looking back at me. I turn to him, to see if he noticed, but he’s teary-eyed and gazing at the baby in awe. I soak it in for a second, imagining this exact look if we’d kept our baby so many years ago.

Bridget’s parents had given us the room, to give us a moment alone, and I can’t be more grateful. Bridget encourages us to hold her and as her soft body is pressed into my body I let out a sob and hand her over to Harry. I excuse myself and step outside the room.

Lou’s kids sit on the floor outside, playing with whatever toys are spilling out of a miniature backpack. I focus on the flashy colours, trying to calm down, counting the number of toys falling out.

My life was a 180 from 10 years ago. This moment would go down in our history books as one of the best days of our lives.

But I can’t deny the bittersweet. The experience threatens to push me into the bitter past of not even getting to hold Baby Bridget. But with it comes an undeniable sweetness of getting to experience this now.

I take a deep breath and walk back in. Harry and Bridget stop mid-sentence and turn to me. Bridget’s face is streaked with tears, Harry’s looks concerned but I smile. He sits with the pink bundle to his chest and I ache.

“Don’t look so obvious you were talking about me,” I try a joke.

“Are you alright?” Bridget asks.

“May I hold her?” I ask in return.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she’s placed in my arms; she’s perfect. Just as perfect as Bridget must have been.

“She’s got Philippe’s hair,” I gently stroke the wispy blonde strands.

“She’s got my eyes, her grandpa’s eyes.”

I look at Harry. And he catches the stricken look on my face when Bridget tips forward and whispers to her baby.

“Look baby, this is your mumma’s mum, and your mumma’s dad. You’ve got his beautiful eyes. Say hi to grandma!”

My throat tightens. “Bridge.”

She leans away, her eyes dart between us. “I know I call you Y/N and Harry. It made it easier at first but…you are my mum and dad. Even though I have another pair. You are my mum and dad. And I want her to know you like that.”

“Oh love,” Harry leans down and kisses the top of our daughter’s head. She keeps her green eyes trained on me, grasping my hand that’s wrapped under her baby’s.

I mouth a thank you, my voice couldn’t pass through the block in my throat. She squeezes my hand and it sets the baby off. Remembering when my nephews were this young, I just hand her back to Bridget knowing she only wanted her mum.

Harry and I stay in the waiting room. We couldn’t go home, even though we had spent our allotted time we had inside the room, we stay there.

We watch Lou’s kids as Bridget’s family gathers in her room. We stay as they fall asleep, draped over us. I remember when Taylor’s kids were this small, they would fall asleep anywhere.

We talk in whispers, I don’t remember what about exactly. Mostly how excited we were. How there was so much to look forward to. How different our lives looked a decade ago.

“One day we’ll tell our grandkids,” I remember Harry saying. “We’ll tell them all about us, how we met, how our love burned so bright it shone in the sky. We lost each other but our love was always there to guide us back home.”

“We’ll see them grow up, all the memories we missed.”

“We’ll change diapers.”

“We’ll change diapers,” I giggle, half-delirious by the lack of sleep. It was probably 2am and I was tired.

When I gaze up at Harry I remember him holding our granddaughter. I replace her with Bridget. For a minute I allow myself to imagine how that would have been.

“I think you would have made an amazing mum if we did things differently,” Harry whispers into my hair.

“You too.” I whisper back.

“An amazing mum? You think?” The edge of his lips tug upwards.

“Harry,” I warn. We had kids sleeping on us we were trying not to wake.

“I love you.” He says in response. “To the stars and back.”

On our drive home I can’t stop looking at him. I always wondered how it would be like to grow old with someone; when I was younger and watch my own parents celebrate anniversaries. And then when I was older and my first marriage was so rocky.

But thinking about it now is like a simple mathematical equation. You take two lives, two individuals, and you bracket them in love. You add an exponent—the decision to continue choosing each other. And you get a lifelong commitment. No matter the situation, no matter the challenges or the changes, you choose to choose each other.

His side profile lights up by an oncoming car. For a second he’s the same boy I feel in love with, a few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkles, and a moustache. But he’d always be the boy I followed out to the roof, who held my hand in our high school hallway, the one who turned an I into a we when I got pregnant, I see the man I had coffee with after a run-in at the Whole Foods, I see the broken heart from a harsh life sitting on the steps of a church, I see a bookworm, I see a father, a husband, and now a grandfather. I see the one person who knows me like the back of his hand. The one I am home with always.

“What is it?” Harry asks as we pull into our b&b. “Have you been asleep this whole ride or have you been staring at me?”

“Staring at you?” I ask. “You think I was staring at you the whole ride?”

“Well you were really silent. And facing me

“I was thinking.”

“About me?”

“Why are you so desparate!? Do I not show you enough love regularly?”

“I could always use more,” Harry looks half asleep as we reach our door.

“The people are right: you give someone a hand and watch as they take the whole arm,” I tease.

“When you gave me your hand, I made you a wife.” Harry retorts.

“Ooh,” I poke him. “I have to say that’s a good comeback for being half-asleep.”

Harry grins back. “You keep me sharp.”

“And you keep me happy. Now open the door so I can stop freezing out here!”

We walk into the warmth of our b&b.

For so much of our lives, our past decisions haunted us. We let so much go. Now life was repaying us, returning it all back, with interest.

***

In a small b&b in the middle of a town called Coventry, two lovers crawl into bed. They’d just become grandparents and they carry an exhausted buzz about them as they try to fall asleep. They’re both thinking of the other, of their daughter, of the tiny bundle they held in their arms today.

Some 20 minutes away their daughter lays in a hospital bed, an exhausted buzz putting her to sleep. She dreams of her mother who gave her up, how she had found her parents in the end, and dreams about the kind of mother she’ll be.

A few doors down lay her newborn daughter, she doesn’t dream of much, not yet, but she’s in for a lifetime of love.

Most of life is what we made it. Y/N and Harry loved deeply enough to make it.

———————————————

TAGLIST: @quinnwritezz @unknownnbihh @dilfhrrys @umadirectioner @hermionelove @anonymous-91 @meganxfddf

#harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #writingsfromhome #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #if you love something #dad!harry #its not my fave but I was getting tired of tweaking it #to shorten it #theres just so much to catch up on #kinda nervous #but also kinda done

[urchintoast]

Pebble

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x reader (modern AU)

Rating: G for all audiences

Length: 669 words

Warnings: none

Summary: On a trip to the zoo, you and Benedict have a discussion about the mating habits of penguins.

—————

“Did you know it’s not entirely true that penguins give the ‘perfect pebble’ to their chosen mate? Penguins make nests out of stone, and so while they will collect rocks and pebbles for that, it’s about as romantic as a 2x4 plank or a roof shingle.”

“I don’t know,” you said teasingly, “there’s something awfully romantic about building a house piece by piece yourself for your partner. Maybe the penguins really are the romantic ones here.”

Ben scoffed at that. “It’s a pile of rocks. Where’s the creativity? The originality? The flair!”

“They’re birds. I don’t think they’ve advanced enough to develop art deco or impressionism. Minimalism though! They definitely sound like they’ve mastered that!” You crossed your hands over your heart and pretended to swoon into him.

“You hate minimalism,” he huffed, sounding like a toddler about to have a tantrum.

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement. “It is a little too sterile for my tastes. Oh!” Your eyes lit up and you watched in glee as Ben just rolled his eyes, knowing that whatever you’d just thought of was going to be terrible. “Do you think they’re into rockoco?”

The mock-glare he leveled at you just encouraged you further, and you pressed on. “Oooh, or maybe their style is more barock!” You couldn’t help but laugh at your own, admittedly terrible, plays on words, and when you looked back at Ben you saw he was no longer glaring at you, but instead smiling fondly.

“What?” You asked self-consciously, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

He just shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, do you know that?” Before you could say anything, he just shook his head and muttered, “charmed by a penguin with a rock. Seriously.”

“I just think it’s a sweet idea! You’ve certainly never given me a rock before.” You rolled your eyes and started walking to the next exhibit, but stopped when you realized that Ben wasn’t following you. “Ben? Are you alright?”

He was just standing there, head tilted to the side slightly in thought. Ben shook his head then, seemingly coming back from wherever his mind had just wandered off to.

“Well, now that you mention it,” he bent down and you threw your head back in laughter.

“I didn’t mean for you to just grab a random rock off the ground, Ben!” You froze, realizing that Ben knew that, too. And he was kneeling on one knee. “Benedict?” You asked, voice shaking.

“My love,” he replied, just as softly, but with no wavering like your own. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring, making you gasp. “I know it’s no roof shingle, but I hope it’s romantic enough for you?” He smiled awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but reach out a hand to hold his and give it an encouraging squeeze. His smile softened, turning more gentle again, before he continued. “I can’t make you a nest out of rocks to live in. I’m terrible at maths, and it would fall apart before the week was through. So while I can’t offer you my building prowess, I offer you all the rest of me. It’s already yours. Every smile, every laugh, every feeling. My love, I’ve given you everything I have but my name, and I don’t want to wait any longer. Will you marry me?”

Your vision blurred from the tears in your eyes, but your future had never looked more clear. You nodded your head and started chanting “yes” as you felt him slip the ring on your finger, before standing up to pull you into a kiss. It was an awkward clash of lips and teeth as you were both smiling too wide, but you couldn’t care less. You started laughing then, and Benedict stepped back to look at you in confusion.

“My love?”

“It’s nothing, just…” you couldn’t hold the giggles in, even as you leaned forward to peck him on the lips again in reassurance. “I told you penguins are the romantic ones.”

#benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton fanfiction

[karmicpunishment]

KARMIE BELOVED hear me out. ada minecraft server.

kyouka keeps taming animals (no one can bear to hit her. what if the dogs get mad at them. what if they have thorns armor. WHAT IF IT MAKES HER SAD.) and she is simply accompanied by a pack at all times

atsushi is still learning how to play and he builds these ugly-ass houses like we all did starting out but hes so proud of them (as he should be)

i was torn on dazai but i think it would be funny is hes so so bad at minecraft. he keeps walking off of inclines and dying bc he doesn't pay attention to his healthbar. he insists hes just playing on a higher level (hes actually rlly good at pvp and uses that for shenanigans but general play? he sucks so bad)

alternatively i think kunikida should be really good when he does play bc it would annoy dazai so much. i think he builds really nice houses and insists the game is just math but doesn't even play that often bc too much time gaming is unhealthy (it infuriates dazai that hes so competent despite barely playing)

i think ranpo plays exclusively for the chaos. he and dazai are a terrible combination (for everyone else) but also extremely funny. also i think he breaks minecraft in insane ways for fun when he gets bored and its a tossup whether the rest of the server suffers or benefits bc of it

tbh i think yosano should go feral in minecraft? like i think she should steal good gear from whoever has it and go kill to her heart's content. u cannot tell me she doesnt have insane amounts of repressed fury i think she should relieve that stress by going on adventures where she kills whatever she finds. yosano should 1v1 the warden powered by sheer spite i think

i think fukuzawa would not really understand minecraft?? but he gets on the server sometimes to spend time with the other members and has a minecraft cat that follows him everywhere (it took so many fish to tame. he worked so fucking hard for that ok)

OH MY GOD KENJI. I FORGOT HIM. THE BOY. i think hes so excited to play with everyone :) he can't build but he collects animals like kyouka and also provides the majority of the food for the other server members. hes like me fr just out here making massive farms of food and also collecting soo many farm animals in pens (he insists on not overcrowding the animal pens)

anyway i will end this by saying rip tanizaki hes the only remotely normal player on this fucking minecraft server

HI PAT!!! and yes yes yes to all of this

kyouka as an animal hoarder tamer is so cute and so real. kenji definitely does this too and yeah he'd totally make Massive farms. ranpo tells him he could make automated ones with redstone and he finds that amazing but also much rathers to just do it himself. they have huge buildings dedicated just to the animals they've collected and basically every name tag someone finds goes towards naming them all.

atsushi would 100% start out building the ugliest houses fr...all the dirt 4x4s and then the wooden box houses. he gradually gets better until hes a pretty decent builder. i feel like he'd also be the type to just get utterly lost in the game lol both in terms of directions (but he always writes down his coordinates) but also like he'd look up at the clock and realize he's spent 3 hours mining.

dazai being an utter disaster at the game is so funny to me. he's not allowed to go mining by himself because he will just die in a random cave and lose everything (also not allowed in the nether for similar reasons). he would be the type to purposefully hit a zombie pigmen just to make his fellow players lives worse lmao. the first thing someone gives him on the server is feather falling boots because he keeps walking off tall places (half the time on purpose the other half are complete accidents) it just makes him walk off things more but at least he's dying less because of it. he's an expert at setting up in game pranks though (usually on kunikida, the poor guy)

kunikida being great at minecraft is so near and dear to me now. i feel like he played the game a lot as a kid because lets be honest, its perfect for him but then kinda fell out of playing it as he got older. and then one of his students from when he was an assistant teacher reminded him of it and he got back into it. he definitely plays for like a couple a week to destress on his own private world where he has the most insane builds. he also is totally a resource gatherer/hoarder too, he's always giving the others supplies (though giving is a strong word, half of them just steal from him).

ranpo is also a disaster in minecraft i feel. he could build insane things but he doesn't have the patience for it honestly. same with redstone stuff, like he gets it but he doesn't usually take the time to do it. he's absolutely awful at pvp though and he gets lost ALL the time. he is the perfect person to go to when trying to find a special area or material, he always knows what someone needs. i also feel like he'd like potion making, idk why. he also really enjoys insane mod packs (though he makes other people install them for him)

yosano would totally be an insane pvp'er. she enjoys the other aspects of the game too but she gets the most enjoyment spending her nights beating mobs. she's not much of a builder but she does like to spend some time decorating the inside of ppl's bases. she's the kind of player to set off withers to defeat on her own for fun. she also plays bedwars lol and is a beast at it.

fukuzawa definitely has just a nice little house with like 5 cats in it. he logged on the first day of the server and then maybe like 3 times since but its okay. and absolutely no one is allowed to touch his house, under threat of ranpo's chaos lol. also no one really wants to destroy the presidents house, it just feels wrong.

tanizaki is just a fairly well-rounded player, like his builds aren't amazing but they're nice, he's decent at combat, he likes resource gathering etc. i feel like he and naomi have like several worlds of their own that they've kept up with for years at this point, with just like sprawling cities worth of builds. his favorite things to do in the game are probably just going on long journeys to find new biomes and fishing lol

#this is so great #the ada minecraft server <333 #the black lizard also 100% have their own minecraft server #but thats for another post at another time lol #the armed detective agency #the armed detective agency bsd #the ada #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #kyouka izumi #kyouka bsd #miyazawa kenji #kenji bsd #atsushi nakajima #atsushi bsd #dazai osamu #dazai bsd #kunikida doppo #kunikida bsd #ranpo edogawa #ranpo bsd #yosano akiko #yosano bsd #fukuzawa yukichi #fukuzawa bsd #tanizaki junichirou #tanizaki bsd #naomi tanizaki #naomi bsd

[blackjackkent]

OK. Prison break report. This took a little finagling and several attempts but here's the upshot. Very long post. XD

There are cells to the east, south, and west of our entry point, as well as several cells in the main room and one gnome who apparently already freed herself.

West is where Ravengard is being held.

The plan here, roughly, is to slam a potion of haste each and split up. The faster we can get all the doors open, the more time all the prisoners have to run for the exit. East seems to be the longest distance to travel, but south is full of water, so there are various complications.

Minsc and Hector can both triple dash (from their rogue extra bonus action and Cunning Action), so we'll send them to the east and west. (According to Hector's character sheet, with all three dashes enabled and standing next to Karlach for her Aspect of the Elk aura, he can move 72 meters in a turn - which maths out to 12m/s or just under 27 miles per hour. XD If he has the Potion of Speed up, this increases to 108 meters per turn - 18m/s or 40mph. This man is going off the rails.)

Karlach has the longest jump distance, so she'll go south across the water. Jaheira is slowest so she'll hang out in the main room and open doors there.

Boo, tragically, does not seem to be able to pull the levers to open the cells. :( Short king.

There are a few sahuagin guards hanging around but it seems like running is probably a better bet than trying to fight them so we're going to try to ignore them at least to start.

Such is the opening state of play.

Actually pursuing the plan turns out to have some complications, namely... Mizora. Of course.

She is, it seems, not particularly happy with Hector and Co. trying to go around her deal with Wyll. (To be completely fair, I chose to come here deliberately, but Hector didn't, but I doubt Mizora cares about this nuance.)

As soon as the door opens on Ravengard's cell, there's immediate echoing laughter in the air - the same laughter which, creepily, plays whenever you put Wyll through the level-up/respec screen.

Yep, that's right, Mr. Duke. How about we talk about it in the submarine, where we--

Oh. Well. That seems fine. Tell her I say hi, I guess.

I'm actually a bit big mad about this, because even with triple dashing which is enough to open every cell door in the western hallway, Hector still has one action left because of the Haste potion, which means... he can do this:

However, it looks as if Fiendish Obeisance isn't being treated as actually coming FROM Mizora, because it stayed active even after Hector cast this on Ravengard.

I was REAL proud of how clever I was being, too :/

Anyway, decided this was a problem for next turn Roz and moved on to having everyone rescue the rest of the gnomes. Minsc with his triple dash had an easy peasy time getting the doors to the east open on the first turn. Karlach, who I just realized has boots of speed and Misty Step in addition to her jump distance, had a similarly easy time with the southern hallway. Both of them were able to run almost all the way back out again too. Double dash with a haste potion is no joke. Jaheira also had no trouble Misty Stepping around the central room to get all her doors open in one turn as well.

At this point we've amassed a pretty sizeable collection of rescuees, mostly gnomes but also a few humans who seem to be members of Ravengard's retinue:

All of them (except Ravengard) have a buff on called "Glimpse of Freedom" which increases their movement speed. So getting all the doors open on one turn seems like a good start and hopefully they'll all just motor their way out by themselves without my assistance.

Ravengard seems like he's going to be a problem, though. Dimension Door would make this quite simple, but Shadowheart is back at camp, probably brooding, and we have no scrolls for it, so we've got to do this the hard way.

I got control of Ravengard when his turn came around, which made me briefly hopeful that maybe the protection from good and evil worked after all, but 'twas not to be:

Aw shit. Here she comes.

"Well, look who it is. I was hoping you'd bound along. A bargain's a bargain - and I've come to see it through." She glares at Ravengard imperiously. "Mea furia. Kneel for me."

Without hesitation, puppeted on invisible strings, the Duke kneels.

Mizora smiles coldly.

"If only Wyll were here to see this. This *is* what he wanted, after all... Now stand back and enjoy the show!"

And she vanishes, replaced instead by seven infernal spiders who all swarm Ravengard at once.

...OK, let's try that again. Fuck you, Mizora.

Resetting back to the point where Ravengard came out of the cell, I skipped trying to apply PfEaG to him and instead hurled Hector's only Potion of Supreme Healing onto the Duke's dumb face. I then ran everyone else through their rescue missions in the other hallways again, pivoting them all towards the east when they were done in preparation to act as an honor guard to get this poor bastard out of here. I also sent Boo down the eastern hallway for moral support.

This is a very busy opening turn. :P

Triggered Mizora again, and this time, as planned, the spiders weren't able to one-shot him, although they did come pretty damn close and also triggered something called "Blood-Scent Frenzy" in one of the nearby sahuagin.

However, the fact that he lived past the first turn made it possible for a) Hector to toss another health potion on him and beat the shit out of the threatening sahuagin, b) Minsc to barrel completely from one end of the facility to the other and finish the sahuagin off before running almost all the way back to the escape ladder, c) Jaheira to toss another health potion on him and kill the last two spiders, and d) him to survive the explosions from the last two spiders and start running for the door.

Meanwhile I ended up sending Karlach back down the west hallway where Minsc came from so she could provide her Elk speedy aura to the gnomes that were still trying to get out.

(I have no idea if this is as interesting to read as it was to play, but it was VERY intense in the moment. :D I felt very cool and strategic.)

At this point, things started to get a smidge more concerning, as more sahuagin started spawning in and everyone's haste potions wore off so we basically completely lost a turn (other than, thankfully, Ravengard being able to make a break for the door). I also realized there had been no sign of Omeluum this whole time. (I also discovered that two of the gnome hostages had been killed; probably it's possible to get them all out safely and maybe I will try on a future run but for right now I'm counting it as a victory if we get most of them plus Ravengard and Omeluum out.)

Omeluum is hanging out in a side corridor off the western passageway. Originally I was gonna send Karlach after him since she's already down that way, but he's also behind a locked door which means Hector; I had him chug another haste potion to postpone the lethargy and book it down the hallway while everyone else headed for the exit ladder. (Conveniently, this happened right as Omeluum decided to pop into his head and tell him to GO, which Hector ignored. Going to be a bit of interesting soul-searching later about him going to these lengths to help a mind flayer, I suspect - especially while he's planning to betray the Emperor.)

The gnomes, bless them, did pretty much make a run for it to safety without my assistance while all this was going on. And with Karlach's Aspect of the Elk and Minsc throwing health potions from the upper level we were able to get Ravengard out of danger with three turns remaining.

The number of sahuagin in the place was starting to make the game chug a little bit, though. O.O

Hector got to Omeluum on turn 5 and had no remaining actions to help Omeluum out of his restraints, which meant that everything started happening very fast on turn 6. At this point everyone else had made it into the submersible so it was ONLY Hec and Omeluum unaccounted for.

I had it on good authority from @zenjestrr that Omeluum could bamf his own damn self straight to the submersible, so Hector gave him a help action and then started barreling out of there.

And with Haste, with three dashes, 30 remaining HP after every AoO in the place, and a brainful of absolute panicked terror...

...he barely made it.

YESSSSSSSS.

Omeluum had a pretty tight time of it; there were eight sahuagin in the room with him by the time his turn finally came around at the bottom of the order, but he was still alive. Barely.

Go boy go!

And he made it in and at the last minute we sailed away!

Fun little cutscene (which Minsc got control of for some reason, but I didn't feel like going back and wrestling it to try and figure out why it wasn't Hector) of everyone getting into the sub and looking relieved.

Woohoo, we did it! \o/

That was intense, haha.

Several follow-up scenes, it seems, but it is late so those will have to come tomorrow before raids. :D

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #i play-by-played this pretty hard bc i was enjoying myself but i have no idea if it's fun to read XD #this was a wild sequence though #really got a kick out of this

[inciting-chaos-series]

The Night Shift: Chapter Four

If you'd like to be tagged when new chapters are posted let me know! -Ghostiewvlf ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦

➢ Tag List: @valleys

➢Author: Ghostiewvlf & JTheGhost ➢ Rating: Mature ➢ Pairings: Corpse X reader | Corpse X y/n ➢ Themes: Slow Burn | Coworkers To Lovers | Angst | Holiday | Mutual Pining | Fluff | Smut? | Hurt/Comfort | Soulmates | Fake Relationships | Miscommunication | Forced Proximity | Found Family | ➢ Warnings: Crude Humor | Suicidal Jokes/Ideation | Drinking | Smoking |

➢Summary:

You work the night shift at a local dog kennel for boarding and daycare. You love the peace and quiet of the shift, but just when you get comfortable- a few break-ins happen around town, and upper management decides to place your quiet, brooding, shift lead on the schedule with you.

☽✧ Chapter Four: Fun & Games ✧☾

-Y/N POV-

After spending all day in labs and lectures you really were not on your A game for tonight's shift. You felt completely fried- mentally and physically. Walking across campus to and from your science and math courses and arriving on time when you had barely a five minute window between them had been exhausting, and the content in the classes left you wondering if you even had brain cells left. 

If you had any energy left you would try to remember to not set your schedule this way for your last semester- though the way your feet dragged as you entered the building and clocked in had you realizing it was no use. 

“Damn- long day?” Liz chuckled from behind the reception counter. 

“So long…” Your voice sounded defeated as it left your mouth. 

“Well, good news- most everyone was picked up from boarding today- we did have one drop off though…” Her voice wavered in uncertainty as you joined her behind the counter. 

“Oh yeah? Who got dropped o-” 

“Just the coolest little dude ever…”

You turned to the comically deep voiced interrupter and watched as Logan walked in from the adjoining break room with a small black Shetland puppy cradled in his arms. 

“Oh my god!” You swooned over the dog and cautiously approached to pet him, earning a laugh from both Liz and your boss as the puppy struggled out of Logan’s hold and into yours. 

“Suppose that will make your night a bit better huh?” Liz laughed out as she gathered her things to leave. “Also… Ryder wasn't picked up from daycare today. I emailed his owners and they requested to leave him here tonight, they're aware of the charges but still need to be billed, I left it open on the computer for you guys.” 

“Is this the universe apologizing for my long day?” You laughed as the puppy licked incessantly at your face. 

“Guess so…” Liz smiled and shrugged as she headed out, wishing you an easy night. 

“So, if you had a rough day- I’m guessing you’ll want to finish up that invoice, since you’ve got some furry company…” Logan chuckled. “I suppose I can lend you my son and get started on dinners.” He rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Oh so he’s your son now? Have you let his owners know- should I send them a quick update email while I’m at it?” 

“Fuck off…” His laugh was much more sincere than you expected as he waved off your comment on his way to the back. You smiled to yourself and got settled at the computer to invoice Ryder’s owners and collect payment, keeping the small puppy in your lap as he absently chewed your hoodie strings. 

---

“Do you drink coffee or tea?” He broke the silence between you as the dogs started to settle down from playing outside. 

“Um, tea usually…” you laughed softly and gave him a questioning glance, “why do you ask?”

“I don’t know- thought I’d ask in case I stop and get us drinks again.” He shrugged as he grinned down at the puppy jumping at his ankles. He groaned dramatically as he sat on a rock and placed the small dog in his lap- chuckling as it immediately gnawed at his fingers. “Plus I don’t know much about you- and if we’re gonna work most nights together I should probably learn the basics.” 

“Fair point.” You smiled and sat beside an exhausted looking Ryder a few feet from him. “That coffee was really good, especially for how cold it was.” You chuckled. “I usually get iced chais, so that wouldn't have been as ideal. What about you?” 

“Well, glad I made that call then. Cause I get the same…” He chuckled. “I mean- usually I turn to- stronger drinks- but chai will suffice at work.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want any red wine stains on our clothes at work…” You teased as you pet the panting dog beside you.

“Of course not… totally unprofessional.” He laughed along and rolled his eyes. 

“Well, if we're getting to know each other- umm…” you paused as you thought of good questions (that were at least somewhat professionally appropriate) to ask of your boss. “What made you get into animal care?” 

“Hmm, well I’ve always wanted my own animal- but I’m not sure that my lifestyle or whatever would allow me to properly take care of one, or that I could handle it I guess… I started out just watching my friends' dogs or cats. Then I saw an opening here and figured it would be a nice place to work.” He shrugged and smiled before meeting your gaze. “What about you? I know you worked on the vet side for a while- and you were at an ER before this right?” 

“That's… super cute? Sorry just- picturing you- deep voice and intimidating nature… as a pet sitter, it's strange to think about.” You laughed at the thought. 

“I know… I don’t really look- or sound- the type huh?” He chuckled in agreement and you shook your head and smiled.

“But um- yeah I did. ER was really cool, I got to see a lot of interesting cases there… and working on the vet side here was nice since I still needed more experience for vet school, but both those jobs were really demanding, and I needed to cut back so I could focus more on finishing school- so this seemed perfect for me right now.” 

“I'm glad…” he smiled sweetly, “-you’re smart and deserve to take the time you need to get your school stuff sorted. Especially if you have such a good plan.” 

“I wouldn’t say it’s a good plan- I mean, who knows what I’ll really end up doing.” You scoffed softly. “I never really wanted to go to college or anything but my family pressured me into it, saying I could never make it as anything without it.” 

“Well that's just- not true…” He scoffed loudly.

“No?”

“Definitely not. I mean, I basically raised myself- I was never close with my family- so I don’t really understand that perspective, but school never worked for me. I ended up dropping out pretty early…” he shrugged and turned his attention back to the puppy, now falling asleep in his lap. “I mean, it’s difficult dropping out so young and being like ‘I'm gonna make something of myself someday, I’m gonna do something big-’ but it’s definitely doable.With or without schooling.” His voice softened slightly as he spoke. You couldn’t help but stare at him, almost in awe, at how much he revealed. 

“I’m sorry Logan. That sounds… awful- I’m sorry you went though that…” you paused, “-but thank you. I suppose you’re right, it is difficult for sure… making a name for yourself, or figuring out what to do in life. ” You weren't really sure how to respond to such a candid response. 

“Eh, that's how life goes right?” He chuckled awkwardly, carefully picking up the sleeping puppy as he rose to his feet. “Spose we should let these guys back in, everyone seems tuckered out.” 

“Yeah, suppose we should.” You carefully stood as well, hoping to not rile up the dogs again as you all made your way in for the night. 

-Logan’s POV-

He stayed quiet as the two of you cleaned around the building, silently admonishing himself for his loose lips earlier. He had no idea why he’d shared so much, why talking with you made it so easy to share what seemed like all the most negative things about him. Maybe he was compensating- getting it all out in the open about how he was toxic to befriend so you’d turn tail sooner rather than later. 

He couldn’t help the nagging feeling of relief though, having told you a bit about himself and getting such a kind response. You probably just felt awkward, or pitied him, after all. He shouldn’t make it a regular thing. 

Eventually when you both had finished cleaning, you settled in at the front desk again. He was grateful when you pulled out your notebook and binder from your bag, knowing you would need quiet to do your homework and he couldn’t run his mouth any longer. He did find it a bit funny when you asked if he minded, of course he didn’t care if you got some homework done, especially with the awkward tension in the air now. He put on some soft lofi for you and scrolled on his phone as you worked. Every few minutes or so he’d sneak a glance at your papers, instantly regretting it as he was greeted with complex molecules, chemistry equations, and the pervasive fact that you were far more intelligent than he ever considered himself.

You huffed loudly, breaking the silence as you pushed your papers away and leaned back in the chair. He turned to give you a questioning glance. 

“If you’re stuck on something- I hope you aren't going to ask me for help.” He chuckled. “Because if I lock eyes with your papers again my brain will melt.” 

“No, no…” He bit down on the inside of his cheek as you laughed. “I’m finished. It’s not all correct, but I’m done.” 

“Ah, well good… its aura is haunting the entire room.” He chuckled, cringing away as you put everything back in your bag. 

“Yeah, believe me I know.” You pursed your lips and leaned back again. “You can put on regular music again if you want… Unless you brought your laptop?” 

“Fuck, you remembered that I said that?” He groaned and hid his face in his hands. 

“Sure do, so when you bringin it?”

“Hmmm…” he paused, humming suspiciously. “I don’t know I feel like- if I had some dirt on you, I might be more motivated to remember to bring it…” He insinuated with poorly feigned innocence.

“Wow, blackmail- that's bold.” You giggled, he merely winked in response, a sly grin across his lips. “I guess I’ll have to think of some dirt on me then…” 

The rest of the night was fairly calm. He pulled up some games on the computer for you two to pass the time, and he continued to joke with you throughout the night until it was time to clock out. 

“See you Thursday I guess…” He dramatically huffed as he walked with you to your cars. 

“Are you pouting about the shifts you work alone now?” You laughed as you tossed your things into your car, he smiled and rolled his eyes. 

“Hey, my two to three shifts I have alone are boring now…” 

“Right, because you’re such a conversationalist…” 

“Fuck off…” he chuckled before pausing as he did the same, “drive safe, text me when you get home…” 

He again waited until you were safely out onto the road before pulling out and heading home himself. He took a longer route home this time, opting to stop and pick up some groceries on his way-  not because it would keep his mind off you or from overthinking everything he said, it was only because his fridge and pantry were barren. 

After arriving home and putting everything away, he couldn’t help but feel anxious as he saw you still hadn’t messaged him. He groaned and took a swig from a new bottle of wine he’d gotten and began typing. 

Logan 🐺:

Did you make it home ok?

You: 

Right, sorry… forgot lol yes I did

He chuckled and rolled his eyes.

You: 

Were you worried? lol

Logan 🐺:

Well yeah you didn’t text me 😤

Sorry I care if my friends get home safe… sheesh

You: 

Oh so were friends now? Lmao 

He laughed as he sent back a barrage of offended gifs and memes. He couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been so eager to continue a conversation. 

You: 

Don't be butthurt haha, I just only ever see you at work is all 

Logan 🐺:

Well you're so busy with school- otherwise we could hangout

You: 

Hey don't blame me- you make my work schedule, you know what days I’m off 🤷‍♀️

Logan 🐺:

Fine… fair point…

Sunday?

You: 

I’ll think about it…

He rolled his eyes and sent a few gifs of graves before tossing his phone aside and attempting to wipe the ridiculous smile off his face. He knew this was likely a mistake, but he didn’t really care right now, maybe it was time to make a new friend. 

➢ Links:

✦ Fics Masterlist ✦ The Night Shift Masterpost ✦ ✦ AO3 ✦ Wattpad ✦ Art ✦ ✦ Requests Masterpost & Guidelines ✦ Request Trope List ✦ 。:゜:.*∵✧∵ ☽ Submit A Request ☾∵✧∵*:.゜: 。

#The Night Shift #TNS #corpse husband #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse x y/n #romance #slow burn #coworkers to lovers #fanfiction #fanfic #mutual pining #fluff #angst #Ghostie Howls #J Writes

[horizon-verizon]

how do you think they adapted aegon iii and viserys ii? the way they screwed up everyone's age (olivia cooke playing the mother of someone in her own age group) and practically no one aging... I won't be surprised if in the season 2 aegon and viserys are already pre-teens and then a time jump comes out of nowhere and they are already adults in the next seasons

@theprettiesthead

As they are still babies and I assume you just mean their ages, I don't like how they are way younger than they are supposed to be in episode 10. Like way too young.

They both looked under 4, meanwhile, when the Dance ends, Aegon III is 10 and Viserys II is 8. The Dance only occurs for 2 years or less.

It's enough that a 10-year-old watched his mom get eaten by a dragon. Now, if the writers stay consistent with their own ages, we will watch a 5-6-year-old watch their mom die that way. And five year old get collectively kidnapped and married into the same "host" Lyseni family. God I hope Larra Rogare is at least 8 by then...oh wait, that would mean she becomes a child bride, too, as she would have birthed a kid by 11ish. And that's really stretching it, as she's canonically older but we can't have the possible show!her be too much older than him. A 20-year age dif for example. So we're stuck with two kid-kids getting married like Aegon III and Jaehaera of him and Daenaera and another supposed "child bride victim of the Targs" (greens stans would go berserk and argue for this in regards to Larra), or a YA going for an even younger-than-canon child.

In canon, Viserys married Larra around 130 A.C, not long after the Battle of the Gullet when he was found and brought into the household and they have a 7-year age difference, which wouldn't have been horrible if he wasn't 8 by that time. When he finally went back to Westeros, he was 12 and she 19 (so she was also a child bride if we go back to marriage-when-child as some moderns understand book!Alicent).

You're making me realize too many things.

But to get into magic age jump (most obvious with Aemond), it would probably go that way. Aegon III and Viserys II will somehow turn into their canon against despite math existing, just so that Condal can feel better about himself and pretend he didn't fuck up the timeline or breed a whole collective of reality-deniers who want to make the Targs at fault for every little wrong done in the world of AsoIaF.

#asoiaf asks to me #aegon iii #viserys ii #hotd characterization #hotd writing #hotd #house of the dragon #larra rogare #viserys ii and larra #character comparison #hotd predictions #character ages #aegon iii and viserys ii #rhaenyra's children

[leporellian]

leporello headcanons posting, again

he’s my funny little guy i’m rescuing him from a wet cardboard box in the rain and taking him in and affixing a little ribbon around his neck

“are these for the canon setting or for a modern au” If it fits a setting it applies

very sorry for this. btw

he’s actually an extrovert and likes being around other people, he’s just… socially inept enough (and also. anxious enough) that he doesn’t really seem the part. - he does love attention more than he admits. but he doesn’t really often get Positive attention which is the issue. - because he doesn’t actually really get positive attention he tends to speak quickly and trips over his words in an effort to get out his Point before someone else- usually the don- shuts him up.

he loves sorting things! you knew this already because it’s canon but god he loves to sort things. and Number them - he collected all sorts of weird things when he was a kid, and he loved labeling them and tracking them in his notebooks - everyone thought he was going to grow up to be an accountant, especially seeing as he is good at math, but then he decided to go into historical archiving and studying museum collections instead much to everyone’s chagrin

he does have an anxiety disorder but tbh it’s very hard to figure out where “symptoms of anxiety disorder” ends and “signs of abuse from the don” begins - although he does have a bit of a Realization of just how badly the don fucked him up when a few months after the don’s death he’s like Haha! Anxiety meds have started working again for me finally!… Wait a Minute - he also does tend to flinch a lot from physical contact when he’s living/working for the don and for some time afterward… which is quite sad considering i like to think he’s very much a physical affection enjoyer

after the don’s death he’s very afraid of fire. like to a sort of obsessive degree - for a while he doesn’t even allow like. lanterns or stoves to be on for more than absolutely life-or-death necessary - eventually he gets sort of “used” to it but it still scares him and he has trouble looking at fire directly. but he figures out how to manage w/ that

also. his relationship with the other characters after the don’s death - he and elvira are best friends natch. which is really funny bc otherwise they seem so different from one another and they have completely different friend groups outside of maybe one or two people. they’ve been mistaken for a couple while out in public together which they also find hilarious bc they both dress very obviously gay, elvira is into the whole punk butch style and leporello is a “wears floral pattern shirts he finds at charity thrift stores” homosexual - he doesn’t really keep contact w/ anna and ottavio and he figures there’s a good reason bc he can’t really think of a -reason- they would want to keep in contact with him. but at some point a year or two after everything Happens some other friend tells him “oh did you hesr anna ended up breaking up with ottavio the other week and came out as a lesbian like immediately after” and then, not too long later, spots some of anna’s things left over at elvira’s apartment and thinks… Hmmm. Well That’s Something - (when anna and elvira start dating he and anna do get along fine but he is always very awkward around her and neither of them really are even able to socially understand each other given they are very opposite. they’re cordial but they aren’t like… Friends outside of whenever elvira brings them both somewhere) - leporello more or less leaves zerlina and masetto out of things on the basis of them being like. teenagers while he is a grown ass man dealing with his grown ass man issues. but i can imagine that perhaps if they hadn’t met in the circumstances they did they would have gotten along with him. i imagine both masetto and leporello are autistic and lep would have loved being able to mentor a younger person in The Ways of Autism but given the amount of Things leporello is Going TF Through i don’t think he would have been particularly good at it. - he’s still scared of statues. perhaps even more than he is scared of fire. but every year or so he does go out and visit the commendatore’s grave. strangely it appears the statue only existed for that night it took the don to hell, as there’s no record of a statue being there before and there isn’t one there after, so it’s just. a regular if rather large grave. he talks to it- for a couple years after the don’s death it was “oh my god i’m a terrible person for (thing that leporello was being forced to do under the threat of death or worse) why didn’t you take me with the don” but eventually it becomes “god i’m so sorry about everything” and eventually after that it just becomes like. talking.

he talks to a lot of things really that aren’t living people. animals. inanimate objects. the dead. (although he doesn’t expect them to reply)

as said before multiple times i like to think he eventually becomes a couple with fiorello, the chronically-ignored servant from the barber of seville. he meets fiorello… a couple years after the don’s death i want to say, right when he’s really starting to heal and is emotionally stable enough to have a relationship that isn’t a Bad Idea - fiorello is just… he’s genuine, above everything else. which is what leporello likes most about him, he never has to decipher what it is fiorello wants or feels because fiorello is always very open about it. he isn’t a man without faults but he’s loving and eager about many things, and he’s always very patient with leporello. in many ways fiorello is exactly what the don was not - elvira initially really doesn’t trust fiorello out of hyper-cautiousness given leporello’s past. but then when lep introduces fiorello to her she’s like… oh this is just a sentient stuffed animal that knows how to gossip. you’re fine LOL

at some point, a few years down the line, leporello is about to fall asleep when he realizes. he has so many things that, when he was under the don’s abuse, he thought were impossible. he’s cared about. he has friends and a loving partner who are there for him. he has plenty of food and water, a job he loves (he’s a museum archivist), a quiet home and a stable routine to follow. and he’s safe. he can’t ever really even remember being this happy with life before, even if it’s considered unexciting and plain. idk. it’s sappy but… but it’s nice to think about.

finally. he would absolutely love watching jeopardy but by god he would be so terrible with the timing. could not win at jeopardy ON HIS LIIIIFE

#don giovanni #leporello #opera tag #rambles

[onetrickjeffrey]

Jaythony Simmersound Interview

Thank you so much to @cheesesteakphil for the amazing interview sketch! It really helped me figure out the final holes in this, on top of just looking amazing! Phil still has 2 comm slots open as of the time I'm writing this, so please consider supporting her!

Interview below cutoff! I've been excited to get some of this written down for the longest time! A little more purply and indulgent than these things are supposed to be I think, but it was fun 💖

.

.

.

.

("Hello?")

The Grumpus gives no acknowledgment, relaxing in the field in front of Cromdo's hut with his eyes lazily shut. Headphones are wrapped over his head as vague, abrasive sound leaks from its earmuffs.

("*AHEM* Um, excuse me?")

Again, no response. None of the sights and sounds of Snaxburg are able to permeate his senses.

(The journalist gives a slight tap of the foot to the grumpus' side )

"Ugh, come on, Cromdo. You and I both know it hasn't been fifteen minutes y-" The grumpus pauses as his eyes focus on the journalist towering above him. Realizing his mistake, his perturbed frown turns to a lackadaisical smile. "Oh hey! The journalist from the gorge, right?"

("The very same. Did you have time for an interview?")

"Well, this is like the only time old Mr. Face gives me to myself all day…but you did us a pretty big solid when we were melting back there. It's only right to return the favor."

("Who are you?")

"Call me Jaythony. Simmersound! Grump State alum, math and finance whiz…professional number cruncher is probably the best way to put it! Well, all that's what I put on the resume, at least. I'm really just some guy who likes the sun and some tunes. You see that Wiggle Wigglebottom's here? Crazy, right?? A lot of deep cuts on that album of hers…"

("...Why come to Snaktooth Island?")

"Well…it's where my job took me. Not much more to it than that, really."

("A Grump State degree and financial skills got you…a job at Cromdo-Mart?")

An anxious wince breaks through Jaythony's casual demeanor. "Weird job market, right? That's one thing they don't really prepare you for in the lecture hall, heh…"

("Isn't Cromdo-Mart a bit of a shady venture for a fresh graduate?")

Jaythony's gaze turns to the ground in defeat. "I…guess I'm not giving you the full story. Cromdo-Mart was a…spur-of-the-moment choice I took. My career, my whole life in New Grump City, wasn't really going the way I planned. I needed an out.

("Fired?")

"No, I quit. I was fresh meat at one of the top banks in the city. I had the skills and the background to make my way up the totem pole. But I…"

("You what?")

Jaythony shrugs. "I hated it. I made it, did everything I was told to do growing up, got all the good marks and the recommendations, got the dream job…and I grumping hated it. It shatters a dude, y'know? Not realizing the miserable kind of life you were preparing yourself for. After a month of trudging through it, I couldn't handle it. I rushed out of my cube and out the door. Didn't look back - no two-weeks-notice or anything.

("And Plan B was Snaktooth?")

"I guess that's where fate came in. I ran out the skyscraper, desparate to escape to…anywhere, really…but I didn't get too far. This gruff, shady, and pretty grumping old fellow stopped me right outside the revolving doors. He gave a clearly rehearsed pitch about some groundbreaking business opportunity in an exotic land, in the world of - and I quote - "superfood". Any other day, I wouldn't have wasted a second of my time on the crazy old man…but the very sight of New Grump City was making my stomach churn. I packed up my clothes, the tin cans on my head, and a good bit of my record collection, and we headed out in two days' time."

("What exactly IS your job at Cromdo-Mart?")

"Mr. Face titles me the 'C.F.O. of Cromdo-Mart'. In reality, I'm sitting at a beat-up wagon and taking inventory on the same 4 pieces of junk lying around like it's my summer Grump-Mart job from when I was fifteen."

("And the pay?")

"Let me put it to you this way: you know those multivitamin gummies they make for kids? Shaped like little grumpuses? 2 bottles of those make up the 'Cromdo-Mart competitive healthcare plan'. I asked about a 401k and he told me there was 'no way he was running that far'. Probably should've read the fine print, or lack thereof…"

("Thoughts on Bugsnax?")

"I'll give the old man one thing: he really wasn't kidding about the 'superfood'. Pretty amazing, aren't they? I had a bit of a scare trying out my first razzby - ran to Eggabell like a lost child when my nose turned all fruity. She didn't really like me wasting her time like that; faded away after a few days anyhow."

("Why did you leave town?")

"Wasn't my choice, really. Place was falling apart at the seams, and I don't think anyone was really keen on parading around with the Cromdo-Mart lacky, especially after Beffica called out Mr. Face on his…you know…theft."

("Can you blame them?")

"Buddy, please, can you trust me on one thing? I'm no conman. I'm just…trying to find some new reason out here. I haven't done any of the shady stuff Cromdo gets up to." He sighs. "But I did follow him to the gorge. Might as well stay on the payroll." He pauses, then continues with a chuckle. "Heh, it's funny: The guy probably thought he was getting some big-shot financier to launder his money and dodge his taxes for him. Instead, he got some aimless, unemployed twenty-something. Weird twist of fate, huh?" (He attempts to prolong his smile, but is clearly unamused by his own joke)

("Any info on Lizbert?")

"I tried to stay out of Lizbert's way for the most part. We both knew I was out of my element on this trip. She didn't say it - didn't even really imply it - but I think we both knew I wasn't meant to be here. I was more familiar with Eggabell, but even then, can't say I have much info..." (He pauses, fidgeting the headphones back and forth on his neck) "Though Eggabell said something weird when she was checking out my snakked-up nose. The way she described these Bugsnax…seemed almost l-"

(Cromdo's voice echoes out from his hut, "DING-DING kid! Recess is over. And get those dumb things off your neck for once! Scarin' away customers when you look like a grumpin' space station!")

Jaythony winces at Cromdo's gravelly orders, but returns a smile to the journalist. "Meet up with me around the campfire when my shift ends. We can keep this going then."

("Fair enough. Thanks for your time.")

Jaythony reaches up to his headphones, but stops before he can comply with Cromdo's order. "Eh...Not THAT desperate for the gig." He lowers his hands and returns to behind the dilapidated market wagon, his blasé expression contrasting hard with the carefree guise he had before the journalist cut his escapist travels short.

#bugsnax #jaythony simmersound #grumpus #bugsnax oc #commission #not my art #fic #grumpsona #interview

[ajaxsprettyboy]

Fair Ground Fairytale

Highschool Senior!Beidou x reader

Smut ahead! Gn reader! Fluff and separate smut !

Thank you @1108707 for the idea!

-

You woke up with an annoyed look on your face, “6:30 already? Ugh..” The last quarter of senior year starting off with a bang…literally, your alarm is a cartoonish BANG sound. You tore your sheet and comforter off of your groggy body and began getting ready for the day ahead. By the time you make it down the stairs you realize your parents are gone, at work. They left you a note, ‘off to work, don’t be late!” And then you realized you were running late.

No breakfast this morning but oh well, your car sped down the streets to get to school. You made it just in time to get to class with your things for first period, calculus. “Okay guys so today we have a new student! Give a warm welcome to Shenhe!” Shenhe introduced herself to the class and answered a few questions about herself, you looked over to your seat mate, Beidou, and giggled about all the attention she was getting.

Shenhe wasn’t new to the school, she just decided to move her math classes, it’s not uncommon if you plan on taking a different subject in college, fortunately she had already taken precalc and understood most of the work without needing to do much extra homework. But enough about her the class is over.

Second period was boring, just you and Ningguang doing your science work together. Third period was your first elective, it was quite simple and moved fast. As was fourth, back to back electives are quite easy to do in comparison to the required classes. Fifth period however, was lunch, you sat with Ningguang and Beidou, who sat with Kazuha and Zhongli, who sat with … you get the point, the table was full. Anyway this matters because you and Beidou were squished together.

You awkwardly laughed at the close proximity, looking over at Beidou, who was laughing and giggling acting as though the cramped space didn’t bother her. She was always like this, making uncomfortable situations more enjoyable. After lunch the rest of your classes flew by without a hitch. Once it was time to leave you grabbed your things and waited for Beidou, you felt a need to say bye to her today. This was odd in her mind but she waved it off as a simple friendly gesture.

‘Did you really just do that? God, you’re lame!’ You thought to yourself as you walked home. You wondered why you acted this way around beidou, but before you could come up with an answer Tartaglia jogged up to you. “Hey [NAME]! Can you watch my siblings for me tonight? I have a track practice to go to and I can’t find a babysitter on such short notice, I promise I’ll pay you for this!” You sighed and agreed, texting your mom you’d be babysitting for a friend tonight. This gave you more time to think though, so that’s a plus!

You walked to Tartaglia’s house, opening the door with the spare key hidden in the plant to the left of the door. Both of his siblings ran up to you and asked where their brother was, and as the night went on you collected a variety of drawings and paper toys for you. All poorly drawn, but very cute.

Once Tartaglia came home he greeted the lot of you and handed you around $100, thanking you for doing this for him. As you walked back home for dinner and to go shower, Beidou texted you. “Hey, do you wanna hang out this weekend? If you’re free we should go to the fair” you smiled, you smiled hard. You tried to respond all cool and calm, “Yeah! I’d love to! What time do you wanna go?” You texted back before having time to think ‘shit I look too excited.. I hope she doesn’t think anything of it.’

Fortunately for you she was in the shower, so by the time you got home, she had only just seen the text. You were eating dinner when she responded, causing you immediately check your phone thus causing your to end up dropping your phone in your food. You sighed and grabbed the food covered phone and wiped it off with a paper towel. You saw what she said, a simple “sorry I was in the shower, around 1 or 2 pm good?” You were so excited! Wait.. is this a date?

“ yeah, sorry lol I was having dinner”

No no

“Yeah! Sorry I’m late, I was eating!”

No too formal

“Yeah, that’s good, and dw I was just eating”

Send?

Hmmm okay…

Aaaand she left you on delivered… fuck.

She probably fell asleep right? Yeah.. maybe her WiFi is just slow.. yeah., just go to sleep [NAME], you still have some days before the weekend.

Morning came and went, Beidou was apparently at a doctors appointment, but she texted you back at lunch time!

“Okay, I’ll drive! And dw I’m not sick, it’s just an annual checkup lol”

Okay okay okay cool cool cool … what do you wear to your … outing?

Okay well maybe you’re overreacting, it’s gonna be hot so just a pair of shorts and a tank top? No too boring.. and that’s all you spent the day thinking about…

The next was spent thinking about what you should and shouldn’t bring with you.

Your week was hell because alle you could think about was your day out with Beidou… wait.. what day of the weekend are you going?

Oh right you already asked her, Saturday.

It’s gonna be hot and sticky but hey it’s gonna be fun! A date with the girl you like! Wait.. you like her? Okay nice you figured it out!

Does Beidou like you though? She has to if she’s asking you to go out with her … it’s just you two so you best enjoy it.

And finally the day came.

You wore your best summer outfit, you brought sunscreen, chapstick, water, money, and an extra pair of sunglasses. Beidou showed up exactly at 1 pm, her car is a convertible, it was a grayish blue. She smiled and opened the passenger door for you. You got in and placed your bag on the floor, greeting her with a smile and made sure to only make eye contact when talking to her.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable with this being a date it doesn’t have to be,” Beidou says, she must be nervous too. “Oh! Yeah I’d like if it could be a date..” you smiled. She smiled and pulled into a parking spot. She then helped you out of her car, and you walked to the gate holding your things and her hand.

The date went smoothly! You rode rides together, got food together, saw all the farm animals people brought in to be judged, you had fun. But the last thing you did together was go on the Ferris wheel. “I know this is cheesy, but when we get to the top… can I kiss you?” She asked, she was visibly nervous awaiting your answer. You nodded and sat next to her.

And soon enough you were at the top, and you had the best kiss of your life.

And that was the start of your relationship.

Smut section

Three months later she asked you if you wanted to come over her house, over the phone. You obliged, happy to see your girlfriend at any point in time.

Once you made it over, she walked you to her room, things went naturally, you and her watched movies and one thing led to another .. now you’re laying naked on her bed making out with her.

She palmed your sex, watching your reactions, and gradually getting lower , then asking you if she can use her mouth, you agreed, watching as she licked your sex, sucking, licking, spitting, all things your sex was subjected to that night. She then asked you if you were comfortable with touching her, you agreed.

She switched positions with you, you did as she did to you, but you also used your fingers. Fingering her pussy, feeling it spasm around your fingers, she moaned and whined begging you to let her cum. “Go ahead, pretty,” you said while licking her clit. As she let herself cum she squirted all over your face, it was sweet and warm. You began cleaning her up with some tissues, and she left to go get a wet rag to clean the both of you.

Needless to say, one of, if not the, best night of your life.

#snow.writes #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #modern genshin au #genshin impact beidou #beidou #beidou genshin impact #beidou x you #beidou x reader #beidou fluff #beidou smut

[whoiwanttoday]

Hey guys, looks like I am still on the Oscars. And still talking about @femalecelebrityoftheday , too. This is sort of a symptom of the Oscars, there are so, so many huge stars at the event and twice as many at the associated parties that it can be a week before pictures come out of some people. I have noted the looks of 53 different people so far at Oscars orbiting things. It's a lot. Decent Charli XCX pictures for instance have not really shown up anywhere other than her instagram. I am sure they'll come but she is close to my heart and an example of how this thing can have a life of it's own. Anyway, the night of the Oscars usually calm and collected @femalecelebrityoftheday was mad about the state of American clocks, in that we move them forward ahead of the UK. This is a fact I know, we also move them back after the UK, so there are 4 weeks a year when your mental math about, "What time is it in England" or in his case, "What time is in on the East Coast of America, as opposed to the time here in Scotland, which is not England!" is off and it can throw you for a loop. I often have in my head, "Oh, it's an hour off from usual" but then move the hour the wrong way, so I get that he was shocked the Oscars red carpet started at a different time than he expected. I think he was behind and trying to catch up but he noted that Fan Bingbing looked very nice. I agreed with him and then the next day he was like, "Have you seen pictures of her anywhere except tumblr?" I realized I had not. I was able to dig up some low quality stuff on various social media sites but somehow they were hard to find in any sort of quality from any sort of decent source. This is not confusing even if it feels unjust. I love Charli XCX but I get why she isn't first in line, I love her but a lot of people don't even know who she is. Because they are terminally lame. But Fan Bingbing? She's a major international star. I posted Deepika Padukone the other day and those pictures were not an easy find either. It's just interesting that both of these people are probably more famous in the sheer number of people who know their name then almost any American at the Oscars other than a small handful but aren't famous enough to get much attention from celebrity press. Which I guess is because at the end of the day, only American Eyeballs matter and Madelyn Cline is more likely to bring in young, American eyes than Fan Bingbing. Also, side note, now that I have willed the phrase, "Only American Eyes Matter," I fulled expect that to be some dystopian cyberpunk campaign slogan before my death when we all have robot eyeballs that beam commercials into our corneas. I am getting distracted though, I do that to myself. Well, I blame the Scots a little bit for making me notice things. Anyway, Fan Bingbing did indeed look very good. Very classic Hollywood in her elegance and her look but with some bits of home sprinkled in, especially with her viewing party dress. I am not surprised because she first of all is absolutely beautiful but second of all she has some of the best fashion sense in the world. I have always marvelled at how well she dresses. It's always distinct and unique and she looked great. So here she is, today I want to fuck Fan Bingbing

#Fan Bingbing #brunette #Actress #whoiwanttofucktoday

[maristocratie]

Hacketteers headcanons p4

My English is still not perfect, sorry for any spelling or expression mistakes

Enjoy :)

Max :

Never take max to the beach. Not just because he'll turn red as a lobster no no. Because he'll wear Hawaiian shirts. And not the ones that can be stylish, but the ones your dads wear and that your moms decided to hide because they were too ugly. With gaudy colors that do not mix well. He also has that pose, you know the hands on the hips, the hips slightly to the side a mix between your gym teacher and the mom pose. In spite of everything we love you anyway max. (btw I want to say that I have nothing against Hawaiian shirts I like them but not the bad ones)

It’s a secret for nobody he does not tan at all he just turn red. Maximum SPF for him. Moreover, as soon as they are on vacation where it's sunny Max walks with a cap or a bob, face covered with sunscreen and sunglasses. Even if he ever forgot any of those three things Laura wouldn't let him wander off like that. She still remembers the time he got so badly sunburned that they had to stay in the house for two days out of their week-long vacation. They always take care of each other.

He replaced the basic flesh-colored bandages in Laura's first aid kit with bandages with little drawings, glitter and/or dinosaurs just because they are more cool and not just for kids. Laura didn't realize it until Max got a little cut. When she saw it she knew right away who had changed the bandages. It made her laugh and Max won a kiss on the cheek because he is adorable.

Ryan :

Ryan is very reactive and sensitive to smells. He associates them with memories. If he is ever in the street or any place and he smells a scent that he knows he will search in his head where he has smelled it before. Sometimes it's not important memories (like a neighbor who has a specific scent) that are associated with these smells, it can just be places, like "oh it smells like the math room in high school".

He is close to Dylan and Kaitlyn as we have seen but he also gets along very well with Nick and Abi. He and Nick talk quite often and spend a lot of time together. Nick like Ryan seems to be not very comfortable when there are a lot of people and a lot of interactions but not as much as Ryan. So he understands him quite well. He also understands how to talk with Ryan without being too stuffy. Both of them are calm people so their interactions are calm too which is quite nice for Ryan. Plus Nick seems to be quite interested in what Ryan is saying. As for Abi they get along well because Abi is gentle with people and tries to interact with others as gently as possible because she is shy but also because she is extremely nice. Plus they both love art and everything around it, so the connection between them was easy.

Plus Ryan discovered that he and Abi liked anything that had to do with cartoons and video games.

At some point he got his ears pierced (just little silver loops) end of discussion.

He has soft hair.

He knows how to play chess.

He can play the keyboard and he started learning to play the bass.

Nick :

He's a surfer, there's no doubt about it. He's been surfing since he was very young.

Nick finds Ryan's voice calming.

He did a lot of climbing when he was younger.

Jacob-Ryan-Dylan :

Dylan, Ryan & Jacob have the best sweatshirt collections around. Jacob has the best sports sweatshirts. He has the best sports team sweatshirts, or brands like nike, adidas etc... that he got from his dad. Ryan has a very diverse collection but they are all very cool, like his aesthetic, lonely, dark, mysterious boy. His collection can be rock band sweaters as well as randoms with graphics on the back or on the front of the sweater. Finally Dylan has the most random collection of stuff that is considered a bit ugly. I don't really know how to describe it. But he doesn't wear them to camp for fear of being laughed at. So at camp he brought a selection of his most basic sweaters that he only wears there. But the ones he wears at home are the Dylan-Dylan ones. Also a lot of his sweatshirts are from thrift stores. He's going to have college sweatshirts or small gift shop sweatshirts like I said before but he can also have sweatshirts with stuff related to physic or some science stuff on it. Only he can wear that, when you see the sweater automatically you say to yourself : oh this is Dylan's, only he can have that ! Honestly he has the best sweaters because they are large due to his size but also because he wears them oversized and moreover they smell good. Even if they are vintage sweaters. They could smell like a cellar or an attic, but they still smell good.

At the camp we see them exchanging their sweaters, especially Dylan and Jacob. But it already happened that Ryan found himself wearing a sweater of the two others. Nick and Kaitlyn often steal their sweaters for the evening. Kaitlyn is more likely to take Jacob and Ryan's because she likes this style of sweater better and because Dylan's are really too big for her. Nick on the other hand is more likely to take Jacob and Dylan's because Ryan's aren't his style and are too tight for his size (let's not forget that this dude is tall).

Dylan :

Dylan is very resistant to pain, even before the incident with his hand. He rarely complains about pain and when he does it is because he is in real pain.

He has a lot of patterned socks. He just didn't bring it to camp, it doesn't match up with blasé-Dylan.

Like Max he doesn’t tan at all he gets sunburned all the time.

Thanks to Ryan, Dylan learned that Laura is a veterinarian, or rather that she is studying to become one. So whenever Dylan's cat seems to be out of sorts, he contacts Laura to find out what might be wrong with him. He describes the symptoms and Laura is there to reassure him. Generally nothing serious. Laura thinks he is a good cat owner because he is very attentive to his companion. She knows how important animals can be to people as she is a pet owner herself. In addition, she is delighted to be able to practice diagnosing while helping someone who has become a friend over time.

Through FaceTime calls with each other Dylan has become much more comfortable with others and has therefore let his true personality come out. He is no longer worried about wearing his glasses in front of others or putting on his « ugly » sweaters and/or patterned socks. Besides, he received a lot of compliments on his look.

Jacob :

He goes to the bathroom with his phone and plays candy crush for a long time. It's a real pain in the ass.

Emma :

She knows how to play poker and she is good at it.

Abi :

As I explained before Abi enjoys anything associated with cartoons and video games. I think she plays pretty regularly. She also watches live on twitch when she is drawing or doing a manual activity when she is at home.

She’s interested in everything related to dubbing. She finds it a fun and passionate profession because she thinks it's amazing what you can do with just your voice.

#the quarry #headcanon #jacob custos #dylan lenivy #max brinly #nick fucillo #ryan ezrahler #abigail blyg #emma mountebank

[pianostarinwonderland]

if youre still doing the chara bingo what ab jade?? :O

[From here!]

Ah yes… 🧍Jade, my ex lover

Jade’s in my top 3 right now, behind Azul and Riddle. But back then, he used to be my bias. 😭 It started because of a fanart that made Jade look hot (and by hot, I mean he looked like Jonah Clemence, my previous love), and that was when I spiraled down. Funnily enough, a week after, chapter 3 concluded and I caught feelings for Azul. 🤡 But that’s another story.

Anyway, though I may not like Jade as passionately now, Jade can make my heart skip a beat. Sometimes, it’s really good fanart or MMDs. Other times, there’s a cute piece of information in the game about Jade. Currently, there’s this utauloid maker on Twitter mkbt_jnrk whose Jade utaus are so good??? 😭😭😭 I find myself going back to my Jade stan era listening to some of their Jade stuff. I’ll definitely talk about them in another post because man am I mentally ill about their works 🧍

Interestingly, a small discourse on Jade's character came up today when this post was in the drafts. Some people saw others interpreting Jade in the "uwu" light and made their arguments as to why Jade is manipulative and sadistic and generally just not a good person. It's not the first time this sort of thing happens in the fandom. In fact, being an Octavinelle stan and being surrounded by fellow Octavinelle stans also exposes me to seeing more of this discourse regarding "the uwu-ification of Octavinelle in the fandom". Usually, I chime in agreement to anyone telling me their opinions about Jade because I see they all have their points but also, I'd rather keep the conversation analytical than argumentative. But if I'm going to be truthful, my opinion of Jade is that he... can be both.

Jade is a beautiful character for many reasons. He's composed and collected, a contrast to his wilder and more spontaneous twin. He can help you, he can do the cooking and the cleaning, he's polite in his speech. But he's also notoriously more dangerous than Floyd. You don't know if he's being completely truthful or if he's spouting out ambiguous statements, you may not realize you're being used by him, or you may know you're being used by him but you don't know how you're being used by him. Jade's SSR dorm story illustrates this. Rook and Vil are two characters who are incredibly sharp about those kinds of people, and in the story, they knew he had intentions for being in Pomefiore, but they didn't know what they were, even after he returns to Octavinelle. Jade is cunning, and he's darn good at it. He knows how to control a situation. And by the Great Seven, I'd be absolutely terrified of him if he was real because I don't want to be played like that 💀

But at the same time, Jade shouldn't also be defined by his manipulative side and sadism. Here's where I'd talk about his love of mushrooms and outdoors and terrariums! ...if I didn't remember that he loves terrariums because he can be in control of who lives or dies.

Ok, but I want to mention how Jade is also not That brilliant of a guy as well 😂 I often find people making Jade out to be some god for his terrarium hobby and his whole scheming and manipulating. But this is the same guy who gets roped into eating Lilia's cooking by the ghost chefs in Lilia's Masterchef story because Jade kept encouraging Lilia to do his shit. And Jade was like, "Haha oh shit" by the end of the story. 😂 Also in his own Masterchef card lines, Jade deadass numbed his own tongue 😅 He's a funny teenager too, he's got his own moments where he's bad at math

Most importantly, I want to talk about how Jade values the people he's close to. In Floyd's dorm story, after Floyd told him of his adventures of acquiring the rights to the mystery drink, Jade goes, "I'm glad I chose you". He may be expressing that due to Floyd's genius, but it could also be because he's just happy to have Floyd in his life. Before Azul overblotted, he was talking him out of stealing powers so he won't head into overblot. After saving him from overblot, Jade's first instinct is to make sure Azul is okay, even expressing that he's glad that Azul is okay. I think those already speak of how much Jade cares, especially compared to Floyd where he called him lame 😂 And you know his famous betrayal line, how he would torment the person who betrayed them with his words before tying them up and tossing them into the sea. It shows his more mean side, that's true, but I also love to see it as a line that implies that he values loyalty. Once you're in his trusted circle, Jade will want to keep you in his life because he's grown to care about you and to trust you. Maybe he can actually be your nice butler man who'd still be a little shit to you. And if you break that trust after all he's done for you, well fucker, time to say hello to the deep deep bottom of the ocean

So yeah, feel free to see Jade as a nice patient butler type of guy who can do No wrong or a manipulative sadistic bitch. But for me, Jade is a yummy balance of both sides and more. 😋

#twisted wonderland #twst #jade leech #ask #ask game

[jumpinagain-a]

“ Try this on for size. ” Mark is handed an ancient relic of time long since lost, a paper fortune teller. Instead of colors and random numbers, it’s labeled with constellations and equations. Charlie might have spent an hour figuring out the math. He hopes it’s right. Under several flaps are cute space puns, including ‘Not everyone can pull off wearing a spacesuit, but I’m going to rocket.’

Under one of them it says ‘Coupon for One Free Lunch Date’ with a heart drawn around it. Charlie is pointedly not looking at Mark when he reveals this one.

give spaceboi all the things!!

THE PAPER FLOWER WAS A SURPRISE, for sure. Mark wasn't sure he'd ever seen one of those outside of maybe the movies. He made a noise of surprise when it opened up to a collection of constellations first, both drawn and labeled. (Gemini, Orion, Lepus, Aries.) When Charlie's fingers shifted, it revealed a set of formulas, ones Mark instantly recognized as geometric, describing the shapes of the constellations they were paired with. He was charmed and impressed! He played over and over until he got to see each of the puns in turn, giggling at each one. Then — a coupon. A heart. Mark paused as a soft flush pooled in his cheeks.

"Oh," he realized suddenly. "You mean you made this for me?" It was a bit humbling to think about all the work that must have went into the little paper flower. He grinned and set his chin on his hands, looking back at Charlie with bright eyes. "I'm not giving you an answer until you look at me." He waited patiently until he had his gaze. "Does this work like an actual coupon or can I get more than one? Because I kinda wanna hold onto this and spend it whenever I like." He lightly snatched the paper off Charlie's fingers, already distracted with folding and unfolding it himself.

#✨ʀᴇᴄᴇɪᴠɪɴɢ . . . charofthestars #✨ᴘʀᴏʙʟᴇᴍ，ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ? . . . asks answered #( omg ...... 🥺 what a baby )