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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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TO LOVE AND BELOVED - Part Five (Harry Styles)

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

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

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

word count: 12k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah,” you nod with a soft chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

(reference for the tattoo)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking…”

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?”

“Yeah. Would love to meet your mum.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Seems like it,” he nods.

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

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

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

“I guess we could say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Define being official,” you chuckle softly.

“Like, boyfriend-girlfriend?”

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

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

“Me neither,” you scoff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi. You look beautiful.”

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

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

“If you say so,” you breathe out.

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

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

“Not really.”

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

“Not specifically. Do you?”

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

“Really? And what songs are on it?”

“Well, I can just show you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What kind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, noted,” you nod smiling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Justin Bieber had nothing on me.”

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

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

“I did,” you admit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that so?” Anne smirks.

“We were just… playing,” Harry explains.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That you look happy.”

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

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

“Mum…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will! Bye!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Would you be up to do it today?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Want to get ice-cream?”

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

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

“So, I have news for you.”

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

“What? No! Why do you think that?”

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

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

“Okay, then what is it?”

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

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

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

“So you slept with him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, hi boys!” you greet them.

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

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

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

“Alright, got it,” you chuckle.

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

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

“Oh, how is he doing?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, that’s great.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi!”

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

“Thank you,” you chuckle softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why did you cut it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m good.”

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

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01solarsmiles · 3 years

Text

synopsis: you’ve been at jaehyun’s “secret” flat for a while now. you’re not quite sure how long, he says time passes differently here. not that you mind. you’re healing and there’s nothing you have wrong with that. having been away form everything that was bad for you, you’re coming to realise that things really were better with jaehyun. and no matter how many times he tries to tell you, he knows you have to come to that conclusion yourself.

tl;dr: you heal under jaehyun’s caring gaze.

genre: fantasy!au, kind of domestic!au, magic!jaehyun, fluff, smut, fem!reader

warnings: smut in the forms of kissing, titplay, basically motorboats oc, brief nipple play, heavy petting/fondling, grinding (?), oral (male recieving), jaehyun can’t hold his load oops, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), creampie, brief cumplay lmao jaehyun is the teeniest bit kinky

other: jaehyun is my soft boi, wanna smooch and cuddle in his pastel coloured sweats, i’m british so he lives in a flat, soft smut… almost r*mantic,,, jaehyun is a boob man; do what you will with that B), jaehyun uses pet names bc i think it would be sickly sweet leaving his lips, time is relevant so i can do what i want with this thanks xox

wordcount: 8.5k

a/n: this is a continuation from the last chapter. i split it bc i needed inspo lmao so once again, not happy with how it ended previously so i had to write more. admittedly, it was origianlly one long piece but i realised i wanted to add more depth to when they’re living together (basically) so i split it therefore enabling me to write what i wanted about them being cute and stuff. yeah.

You had been given a wheelchair by the hospital but had refused to use it, wanting to prove that you were okay, to yourself and Jaehyun. He had convinced you to stay in it as you left the hospital to please the staff on your way out but you had point-blank refused when you made it to the small block of flats he said he lived in. After walking two steps from the car you let out a whimper and gave in to his incessant pleas to get you to sit in the wheelchair.

Oddly, there had been no one in the foyer and you hadn’t bumped into anyone in the hallway in front of the lift. He had helped you when you made it into the flat, moving you over to the sofa where you melted into the plush cushions of the seat.

On the way here, the two of you had already argued about where you were going to stay, him insisting on not leaving you alone and you insisting that you’d be okay at a friends place. In the end, he promised to contact your friends and family to tell them you were spending a little time away (you wouldn’t let him tell them you had been to the hospital). After all, he had saved you when you needed it most.

Your cracked lips remained tightly sealed as he folded the wheelchair away and tucked it behind a cupboard where it wasn’t in your direct line of sight.

You decide to look around, wanting to take up some time and to avoid looking him directly in the eye.

The flat was… cosy. It looked lived in, all the trinkets and small collages stuck up on the walls drawing your attention away from the shelves stacked with potted plants. Everything about the room seemed to tie together with another aspect of the flat. You couldn’t help but wonder why he had a place like this.

He notices your inquisitive look, “It’s supposed to be a secret. Though almost everyone important knows this is where they’ll find me if I disappear without an explanation.” Jaehyun moves towards the small kitchenette, fetching a glass of water befoer placing it on a coaster on the glass coffee table by your legs.

You wait for a second, acknolwedging the glass of iced water, then look up, meeting his hesitant gaze, “Everything’s green.”

It wasn’t a deep green either, more like a soft earthy green. Maybe a sage colour, but you were mostly going off of the presence of the plants and the colour of the sofa. Some of the counters in his one-person kitchen were a soft green, accented with wood countertops and a pastel fridge. It was soothing on your eyes, you had to admit.

He nods, unsure what you’re getting at, “Yeah…?”

“The first and second time I met you, you exclusively wore red. And it was glittery,” you point out, one wordlessly eyebrow raised.

He tilts his head, dimples appearing in his cheeks as he stuffs his hands in his jogging bottom pockets, rattling his keys in his pockets, “Just because I wear red doesn’t mean my whole life revolves around that primary colour.”

You roll your eyes and lean back into the sofa cushion, tenderly crossing your arms, “Well, no. I guess not,” you let your headrest on a pillow he slips behind your neck discreetly, “I suppose… I just assumed that you did,” you shrug your shoulders, “wasn’t something I gave much thought to.”

Jaehyun kicks off his trainers and throws his keys into a bowl on the kitchen counter. You could probably stick your arm over the back of the sofa and touch the pillar that separated the two areas if you tried hard enough adn weren’t brusied all over. He’s got a small smile on his face that brings his dimples out as he makes his way over to sit on the sofa with you, letting himself fall haphazardly onto the cushions. “So you thought about me, even a little.”

Ignoring his comment, you take in his flat to its fullest. You weren’t wrong, this man lived in a green, cottagecore aesthetic in his off-time. Admittedly you were a big fan of the wall of shelves stacked with different plants, mostly succulents and cactus -- the odd spine of a book eeking through -- and you even enjoyed the small desk that was home to a few depictions of watercolour flowers. Your eyes fall on the black figure, slinking under the legs of the glass coffee table pitched in front of you, making you flinch as you suppressed your reflex to jump; it was only a cat.

A cat man. Of course, he was.

Jaehyun’s eyes follow yours, “That’s Prim. She likes to keep to herself. Occasionally she curls up with me.”

“You made it sound like you rarely come here.”

“Mhm.”

“You have a cat.”

“I have a cat,” he affirms.

Prim disappears around the pillar into the kitchen. Jaehyun must’ve put down some food for her because you can hear her softly eating followed briefly by the sound of her lapping at a bowl of water.

“And plants.”

“Those too.” He’s not sure where you’re going with this, neither were you, but he was humouring it, seeing it through to the end if he got ot be in your presence longer.

Your eyes go back to wandering around the room, watching how the sun dips in between the curtains and cascades through the room. You had sat in the seat closest to the entrance, meaning Jaehyun’s back was to the window as he faced you while you were talking. He was still dressed in the outfit you assumed he slept in at the hospital. You were dressed in the same clothes you had gone in with, having had to change out of the gown they had provided when you left.

He looked so effortlessly pretty. It made you want to cry.

You suck in a breath and say, “I’m a little tired. Can I sleep… anywhere?”

He nods and jumpts to his feet before helping you to yours. Slowly, you make your way down the hall, almost all of your weight is beared on Jaehyun. He’s practically carrying you but neither of you mention it. It was only a small flat, something you couldn’t wrap your head around when he could probably have anything he liked, and so it only had one bedroom.

Initially, you had put up a fight but he simply said he wasn’t tired and there was a box room he could get a bed into if the sofa wasn’t comfortable enough (it was but you weren’t okay with the fact that he was giving up his bed). You lay on your side, a body pillow supporting your small frame. You were so tense, worried about Soobin and Dan-ah and Mina and your Mum and Dad and Hyejin as she was probably the only friend of yours who regularly checked in. There was so much running through your mind and you almost don’t notice Jaehyun’s soft palm gripping yours, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had seen the anxious look on your face and had guessed that you were psychoanalysing everything in your head, cogs turning. He wanted to subtly draw you out from your thoughts... so he let a little of his power surge through his fingertips and into your palm, hoping it was enough to make you woozy.

Without much thought to it, you rested your head on his pillow and fell asleep.

Jaehyun stays, for a minute or two, holding your hand until your grip weakens, your breathing becomes heavier and your chest goes into a steady rise and fall. He watches, as you lay, unbothered by the world outside. You looked at peace. At home.

Was this the first time you had been able to wind down like this?

He sighs, wriggling his hand from under yours and gets up to leave before he pulls a brown monochrome blanket over your frame. A slight frown etches itself on your forehead as your fingers twitch, looking for the hand Jaehyun had slipped away, before you subconsciously grip the blanket and curl into it instead, the frown erasing itself from your face, leaving you looking at peace once again.

You wake up to the sun going down outside, a blanket covering your body and pillows squished underneath to support your body.

You’re tender. That’s safe to say.

The room was airy; Jaehyun had left the window on the latch and the door cracked open so as to not make it stuffy. Glancing around, you notice the simplicity of it. Bed, side table, lamp and wardrobe. It differed massively from the rest of his flat. Maybe he hadn’t gotten around to decorating substantially in here.

You get up, perching yourself on the edge of the bed before making your way out of the room. Shuffling along, you cling to the wall as you know full well you shouldn’t be venturing around by yourself and make your way to the living room, “Jaehyun?” you call. The calling stops when you spot Jaehyun with an open book lying in his lap while he snores lightly, passed out on the sofa. The corners of your mouth twitch, curling into a smile at the sight of him so peaceful.

You hold out your arm, inspecting the bandage on it. You sigh, “I need a shower.”

You turn back, headed towards what you assumed was the bathroom. The door creaks open; thankfully, you were correct. There are fresh towels hanging on the rack and a laundry basket sits tucked into the corner. Stripping from your clothes gingerly, you turn on the shower. While it warms up you unwrap your bandages and softly poke the back of your head. You’re probably not supposed to submerge it yet so you work with what you can. The shower itself was a standalone that had frosted glass wrapped around it, hiding what was on the inside if anyone were to look in.

The whole ordeal was a show in itself, you carefully moving things about, trying not to knock anything all while trying to do your best with what you’ve got. It wasn’t the best situation in the world but it was the best out of the hand you were dealt. Having not been back to your flat to get anything, you didn’t have any of your usual hair products so you used the products that were already there and a lemon body wash that had been sitting patiently.

Eventually, you finish up with half-washed hair and a mostly clean body. Your fingers had pruned long ago and you took that as a sign to get out of the shower to stop using all the hot water.

You stepped out, and grabbed the towel off of the rack, wrapping yourself in them. They were so soft against your skin. Holding it tightly against your skin you move to stand in the middle of the bathroom. It wasn’t big but it had an oval mirror hanging above the sink. Staring at your reflection for a little, you internally pick apart everything you don’t like.

Staring with the obvious bruises. “I’ll heal,” you tell your reflection, “I won’t degrade myself like that again.” Your fingers brush against your towel-covered ribs, making you flinch. “He won’t do this to me again; I won’t let him,” you pause before whispering, “I’m not going back to him.”

By now, your eyes are watering a little so you sniffle and wipe the forming tears away before they’re given the chance to fall. You deserve better. You know this. “I deserve better. I am worth better.”

In the middle of this, Prim slinks through the crack of the door, making you jump a little. With your hand on your heart, you take deep breaths, watching as she jumps onto the closed toilet seat and sits down on a pile of clothes. A pile of clothes you don’t remember putting there. Your eyes widen at the thought of Jaehyun seeing you naked but then you whip your head to the shower walls, reminding yourself that they’re frosted and he would’ve only been able to see an outline at the most.

Prim purrs, drawing your attention back to her.

She blinks at you. She’s so calm. You reach the backside of your hand out so she can sniff it. After a quick sniff, she turns her head and rubs it into the palm of your hand. You gratefully accept her and let her continue to rub herself on you as you alternate between scratching the underside of her chin and the back of her head. She purrs in content and you let out a quiet giggle.

Jaehyun had been awake for the past ten minutes or so. He’d dug through his drawers, pulling out an old pair of jogging bottoms that he’d bulked out of but never gotten around to throwing out, a pair of clean underwear and a jumper that was currently his size but probably oversized on you. He’d slipped them onto the toilet seat (thank god it was so close to the door) without peeping past the sink and must’ve forgotten to pull the door up all the way on his way out.

He listens to Prim purring and you giggling softly from the safety of his sofa in the living room, a smile making its way onto his face. He had flicked on the table lamp on the end table by the sofa, continuing to read his book – A natural history of Dragons. Not as accurate as he remembers but a little light reading never did anyone any harm.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you looked fresh. Swamped in his jumper and bare feet padding across the panelled flooring. He looks up from his book, noticing you gradually making your way over to him, he jumps up, trying to help you. You looked cute with your sweater paw leaned up against the wall.

He tucks a hand under your armpit for leverage, you turn, a little surprised and open your mouth to say something but can’t bring yourself to when you realise how close your faces are. Jaehyun either doesn’t notice or pretends to not know, making you feel more embarrassed than you thought possible. His musk engulfs you, overriding your senses and you hesitate in your step.

“Oh,” you say, face hot to which you can only pray he doesn’t sense how he caught you off-guard, “you don’t have to–”

“It’s okay,” he whispers softly, hands pulling you into him so he can use his body strength to help too. You feel goosebumps from his caring touch and you wonder about the last time someone treated you like this.

Since when did he become so domestic?

You brush it off and he helps lower you down to the sofa and Prim follows suit, helping herself to your lap as she curls into a ball, letting you run your fingers down her back in a soothing motion.

You could feel the heat rising up your neck at how close the two of you had been, your mind running to months before when you had been close to him. Before, you had been embarrassed about yourself as he was helping you out of the hospital but he had reassured you that you had nothing to worry about – the gentleman that he was – he didn’t want you to feel ashamed. So, you let yourself relax on his plush sofa cushions while he went about making something to eat for the both of you with a grin on his face, knowing all too well what he had inflicted upon you moments ago.

That’s how the next month or so went by. You pushed yourself to your limits, all of your minor injuries healed (somehow), and followed Jaehyun around while Prim followed you. As promised, Jaehyun brought home a bed for the box room to which you insisted on sleeping in since you were the one who was the guest but he had none of it. In the end, he dressed the room up nicely and it ended up looking like it had been there all along.

At first, Jaehyun hadn’t let you do any of the things you offered to do, especially the cooking. He had a large repertoire of recipes up his sleeve and wasn’t letting you do anything to strain yourself.

Your phone had briefly glitched the first time you turned it on, which was odd on a good day.

“Time passes differently here,” he had explained, “Einstein was right about that one; time is relevant. He almost caught us out one time with his research into it but Yuta turned him around and set him back on track again.”

To which he then had to explain to you who Yuta was. He sounded nice, harmless but what got you was the fact that there were more people like Jaehyun. You had yet to meet more than the man who stood in front of you as he explained that to you.

Weeks into your stay, he took you round to your place, helped you pick up your things and also helped you leave a thick layer of red glitter all over your now ex-boyfriend’s penthouse. He deserved it. According to Jaehyun, your ex was in the process of moving out, as per Jaehyun’s convincing argumentative skills.

You rang some of your family and friends, asking after them and telling them you were okay after it was established between you that you and Soobin were no longer together but the most heartbreaking one was between you and your niece. She had been there, she knew now, even if you didn’t want her too, she knew. You could only pray that it slowly faded from her memory, for her sake more than yours, as she grew older.

According to Hyejin (when she rambled to you on the phone as she bawled, bless her), Soobin had been given the sack and lost most of what he owned. He’d also been sporting a black eye for two weeks after you got out of the hospital. She had been the first person you rang but the small detail had slipped your mind until later that night. You tried not to outright weep tears of joy, knowing that he’d had even the tiniest bit of his own medicine fed back to him, followed suit by you quizzing Jaehyun to which he hid his knuckles behind his back as he walked in with a tray of sushi that had been delivered tonight as a treat before your anime marathon.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I haven’t seen him,” he throws his keys into the bowl on the kitchen counter after toeing off his shoes in the entrance of his flat.

Having had time to heal, you pull yourself to tuck your legs underneath you as you look over the back of the sofa. “Jaehyun,” you warn. Prim materialises from the depths of Jaehyun’s bedsheets, where you had left her earlier, to greet her beloved owner. She purrs against his leg and he leans down to scratch behind her ear.

“Y/n,” he says back, trying his best to match your tone.

Your eyes follow Prim, closely watching as she jumps onto the kitchen counter and paws at the key-bowl. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you nibble until you can form a sentence that wouldn’t betray you when it left the corners of your mind.

Thinking about it, you decide against arguing with him on it. If he was lying it wasn’t something that was going to stop you from hanging around him, so why push it? Because you wanted to know why. “You were out a while after you texted me you’d finished food shopping the other day, where’d you go?”

Jaehyun glances at you, his hair stood slightly on end as if he’d been running his hand through it, possibly one too many times. It was shorter than when you had first come into his care – you’d helped him one day to trim it. You’d also insisted that he let you do it because you used to cut your hair in the bathroom mirror. ‘Not the same,’ he had said but he had handed you the scissors all the same. He was still dressing for comfort, something that you appreciated when the evening came and the tv turned on. It was a small flat which meant a small-ish sofa. He wasn’t against wrapping an arm around you and the two of you had been known to fall asleep to a movie or two in recent weeks.

“Went to work, briefly. Gotta make sure everything’s on schedule; they’d practically die without me to ditto everything they’re already sure of,” he flashes you a grin that his dimples can’t escape, “it’s nice to be home.”

You murmur a response.

Scattering away, Jaehyun has a shower after being out and gets dressed quickly to return to you. He walks over to the kitchen, deciding to grab some things for the evening.

His back is turned to you now, he’s grabbing a couple of drinks from the fridge, the glow of the light illuminating his face.

“I missed you.”

You… what?

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage was deafening. Had you just said that out loud? He turns to meet your frantic gaze, waiting for your response. He can barely breathe out the response, “I missed you too.”

He grins, sinking himself into the space next to you and slings his arm over the back, his hand resting close to your neck. “Awh, did you really?”

Your body practically recoils, turning back on itself, “No. I just wanted you to bring ice cream; I’ve been craving it all week.”

Instantly you regret your choice as he frowns slightly and turns away.

You’re forced to think about the countless nights you’d spent curled up in his bed, some of them the result of you weeping into one of his many pastel sweatshirts you adorned about your failed relationship with Soobin, others about how you had neglected to tell your family and friends about the situation you had been in for almost a year by the time Jaehyun had pulled you away from it. Most nights, Jaehyun heard you, upset and alone in the dark. In the beginning, he wasn’t sure what to do about it, part of him knowing that he should leave you to heal but the other part of him screaming that he shouldn’t let you suffer alone – shouldn’t let you think you’re in this alone when you’re most certainly not where he’s concerned.

The first time he had left you, not sure he had heard correct when he came back from work, groggy from the use of his powers and feeling like he needed to faceplant his pillow from the exhaustion. You had stopped, little sniffles being masked by the vibrations of Prim’s purring against your body where she had hopped up on the bed to comfort you, when you thought Jaehyun was listening, hoping that he would leave you to hurt for a short while longer.

He had sensed your hesitation and made his way to the shower, deciding he needed to be fresh for the next morning.

He was oddly caring. Not that it was odd for someone to care but it was odd for someone to care this much and for the person to be Jaehyun was the cherry on top.

Turning back to face you, he grins, “Wanna watch that anime you were telling me about? I googled it last night and read some forums; apparently it’s good.”

Your eyes light up, “Sword Art Online? Yes please.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, chuckling to himself at how eager you are. He loved when you showed interest in things like this. His auburn hair falls into his eyes as he skims through whatever application he had pulled up (Netflix; no chill) while you weren’t looking and he breathes softly through his nose, concentrating on the screen in front of him.

Once again, you were studying him. It had been a long time since you had arrived. Time is relevant, true, but how much time is too much time?

The sun had set an hour or so ago now and you had already eaten some of the takeaway earlier as neither of you had been interested in cooking. You wondered if he knew how the table lamp accentuated his face, the soft hue acting like his usual haze when he was in his suit – which you learned was the reason he practical glowed as he had since told you there was magic twined into the thread it was sewed together with – and made him look angelic. You wondered if he knew the camel sweats he was wearing made you want to cuddle him and nuzzle your nose into his side, somewhere that you felt more than safe to be. You wondered if he knew how much you liked it here and how you were apprehensive about going back to the real world full time.

You’d been out, of course, he couldn’t confine you to his flat even if he wanted to but he always made sure that there were the correct precautions in place. He was always here, anyway, choosing you over everything else so there was rarely a time where you could go out without him. Smiling to yourself, you remind yourself that you don’t think you’d want to go by yourself when there’s a perfectly good Jaehyun waiting for you.

His hair fell in soft waves on his forehead, and his brow furrowed as he tried to figure out why he couldn’t find Sword Art Online for you two to watch. The two of you had fallen into a routine, he pats his leg, signalling for you to lay your head down on his lap as he pulls a pillow from behind him for you to rest your head on.

Shifting your body, careful of your ribs still, you lay down and wrap a hand under his leg for leverage, being sure to keep it closer to the back of his knee than his thigh as it was easier to curl your hand. He didn’t mind because when you sat and watched horror movies you would squeeze his leg in anticipation for a jump scare of sorts. He thought it was cute.

Eventually, he finds it, “Here we go,” he mumbles, clicking on the first episode. You settle in, pushing your face further into the cushion as Jaehyun lets his hand rest on your shoulder, somewhere safe for him to touch. His other hand plays with your hair absentmindedly as the episode begins, showing the people who had been waiting for the game to come out so that they could play it.

It remains like this, you making comments here and there, ooh’s and ah’s coming form both of you as you talk about the episode before it rolls over to the next one. At one point, he says something that makes you sit up completely, throwing him off as your warmth leaves his body.

“Did you just suggest that Kirito could be –”

His eyes widen, “I merely suggested that he –”

You scowl, pout and cross your arms, your cardigan falling off your shoulder at an angle, “No! You said what you said. It’s out there now, in the cosmos, for all to judge. You can’t take it back.”

He’s looking at you, first with shock but then with an expectant look. All you were doing was arguing over anime. You’re not sure you remember seeing him like this, eyes filled with something you cannot describe. Is this what being loved feels like? The flying thought catches you off guard and you hold your breath. He wonders if you know that’s how he’s feeling, how he’s seeing you. The rose-tinted filter settled in and he was determined to keep it that way for a long time.

Jaehyun had got dressed after his shower into a sweatshirt and sweatpants, and joined you on the sofa while you were watching the back end of a drama you had been meaning to watch for months before you had switched over to anime. It was your thing; watching anime together.

His hand reaches to rest on the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek and fingers splaying down to reach your neck and brings his face closer to yours, making your breath hitch. The last time you had been like this neither of you were thinking in coherent thoughts. At this point, you’d spent months with him, hiding from your family and friends – only partially as you had wanted to gain your confidence back again and go back with a real job.

His hair was still drying on the ends where he hadn’t bothered to towel dry it. It brushed against your forehead as he brought his forehead to rest on yours, savouring the moment.

Breathily, you manage to say his name.

He hums in response, eyes trained diligently on your lips, waiting for your response. He doesn’t notice how you watch him watching you, he’s enamoured. He loved when you looked like this. So carefree. So pure. So… pretty.

“Kiss me.”

He doesn’t wait any longer.

Lips centimetres form yours, he gives you the opportunity to change your mind but you bring your lips to his, not wanting to drag this out any longer. His fingers stay on your face while your hands have yet to find somewhere to be placed – something that Jaehyun notices – so he picks up your hand and curls it around the back of his neck before wrapping his own around the small of your back, a smirk finding its home on his face.

Feeling more confident, you bring your free hand to splay across his cheek, thumb mindlessly rubbing the dip where his dimple becomes prominent. His hair stands on end on the back of his neck, the sensation of your fingers brushing his face so calmly as he pulls your lower lip between his having caused goosebumps to form down his arms.

Secretly, he was glad he was wearing his sweatshirt so that you couldn’t see how sensitive he was to you.

Jaehyun leans gradually away and you chase his lips, not wanting to forget the feeling any time soon. All of the time you had spent with Soobin and yet none of the moments you had shared felt like this. It made your heart pound and the butterflies were making their way up, tickling your diaphragm as you struggle to breathe.

“Y/n,” he begins, lids heavy and forehead pressed to yours. He’s not really sure what he wants to say… how does one express the euphoria they feel from finally doing the right thing and knowing it’s the right thing? Because that’s how Jaehyun felt. You knew he wanted to say something so you lightly prompt him.

“Jae… what are you thinking?”

His lids close and he bumps his nose with yours, lips parted, “I want to kiss you like that more often.”

You giggle, which throws him off, “Do you?” He looks up to meet your wandering gaze through his lashes, “because I want to kiss you like that more often, too.”

He grins, tightening his grip around your waist, pulling you in until you’re straddling his lap. “Oh yeah? How about I do just that, then.” His lips return to yours. You noticed that Jaehyun’s lips tasted of cherry chapstick, and you loved that, deciding to part the seal of his mouth with your tongue to devour the taste further.

The subtle curve of his lips was something you didn’t want to forget – that was for sure. You work on memorising this feature and lightly tug at the tufts of hair at the back of his head, making him moan into your mouth ever so slightly.

“That was adorable,” you mumble against his lips, lowering yourself so your bum is resting on the heels of your feet either side of his thighs.

His face flushes but he pretends to not notice and instead lets his hands roam until they’re palming the globes of your ass.

This shocks you into action a little, the squeezing fingers forcing you to lift and lean on your knees, breasts pushed up against his chin as you continue to kiss him.

As you slipped your tongue to mingle with his, you decided then and there that you were absolutely in love with kissing him. Possibly smitten, just a tiny bit.

You had worn a tank top and a light cardigan for comfort around the flat, not wanting to pull jeans on and a blouse every morning and instead opting for leggings and light-tees regularly. You weren’t sure what kind of man Jaehyun was, an ass or boob man but something igniting inside you and hardening in his sweatpants told you that you were going to find out pretty damn soon.

Pulling away you offer a small smile at him, he grins, like he knows he’s about to get a present he’s been waiting for ages for. Ironic, considering his job profession.

You bite your lip and let your hands fall down to his arms, running your palms up and down his biceps. By now the episode had rolled over and was about 10 minutes into the next but you and Jaehyun were far too distracted, you figured it would have to wait. It would still be there tomorrow when you could rewatch it and continue your marathon.

His own hands rest below the curve or your breasts, thumbing at the swell.

You dip your head, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before letting your tongue peak out and swirl its way down to his neck. Peppering kisses against his tan skin you pick a spot where he makes the most fuss when you reach it and bruise it with your lips. He groans at the feeling of your lips tainting his skin so skillfully and thinks about how you went to waste on someone like your ex before him. His breathing grows heavy and his fingers run up and down your back in a soothing manner, toying with the hem of your tank top every time his fingers brush the bottom.

“Oh my God,” he breathes out when you’re finished.

You giggle, “What?”

You had slipped your cardigan off, letting it fall in a heap on the floor and hooked your fingers under your shirt before throwing it across the room.

Gazing up at you, you can practically see the hearts spinning around his head. You knew that if this was a Looney Toon cartoon, his eyes would’ve been pounding hearts right about now.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighs as you press a closed mouth kiss to his jaw, “…pretty girl.”

You were left in a dark pair of leggings and your t-shirt bra. It wasn’t anything fancy (you were here for comfort, for god’s sake) but Jaehyun looked at you like you had put all the stars in the sky yourself, something you were unfamiliar with. Pride swells in your chest and lust swells in your core.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to do something?” You tease. He merely smirks, enjoying what he hasn’t even done yet, and buries his head between your breasts.

You let out a small “Oof” noise and steady yourself on his shoulders. Leaning on your feet normally would’ve been enough but when he stuck his head between your boobs it had knocked you slightly off balance. Your fingers dig into his shoulder blades, pressing crescetn moons into his skin, but Jaehyun takes no notice as he noses his way to a fleshy spot and attaches his lips.

“Smell so good,” he’s referring to the perfume you had brought with you when you cleaned out your apartment. “Wanna taste,” he mumbles into your boobs. Your panties dampen at the confession, not knowing completely how to respond without crying out a moan.

Unshockingly so, this was one of the few tinmes you had felt like the only girl in the world, not to quote Rihanna, but it was truly a moment you had no desire to forget any time soon.

Instinctively, your hands retire to the back of his head, pulling him closer whilst he goes to town on a hickey he’s suckling into your skin.

Pulling back, he grins, “Perfect.” He’s admiring his handiwork but it still sends the stupid butterflies contained in your abdomemn stir crazy when his gaze meets yours, filled with lust, love, adoration – whatever you want to call it, his eyes contained it. Lids low and mind focused, his hand snakes behind your body to unhook your bra but you stop him.

In fear of pushing you too far he drops his hand and waits, eyes wide for what had stopped you.

“I-I haven’t – no – I don’t…” you struggle to find the correct words in front of Jaehyun, the cool breeze making you shiver in the slightest.

“What is it, angel?” He brings his hands to your waist, rubbing slow circles to calm you.

“Soobin,” you exhale. It was all Jaehyun needed to know so he took a deep breath.

He’s watching you as he says, “I don’t care. That was then… this is now.”

You nod. His features twist into a smile, images of that night coming back to him, “Plus I already fucked you against the –”

Your hand finds itself pressed across his mouth in the blink of an eye, praying he doesn’t finish that sentence, “I know,” you squeak before emphasising, “I was there.”

He tilts his head and offers a mischievous glint, “I thought you didn’t think I was real, simply a figment of your imagination, if I do remember correctly.”

Groaning, you roll your eyes, “Stop with that! You showed up, dressed in red and in the middle of the night after I’d written a letter that only I could know the contents of. Who’s to say you weren’t an incubus, huh?”

A single eyebrow is raised on his part.

“And you were gone before I woke up,” you mumble against his neck, now enticed by his scent again, “I never told anyone because it sounds wild, right? You have to admit that part at the very least.”

That made him take a second to process, “I never thought of it like that,” he mumbles, pressing feather-light kisses up your arm.

“It was something I thought about for a while,” you meekly replied to his unasked question.

“Well,” he begins, “you don’t have to worry any longer,” and presses his lips to your clavicle, fingers unclasping your bra behind you, this time you let him, sighing into his golden touch, boobs pressed against his chest. He groans at the feeling or your unclothed, hardened nipples cutting in on his pecs. You sling your bra across the room, not giving much thought or care towards where it ended up as there were more pressing matters you cared about.

Your neck is tipped back as his tongue dips to the valley of your breasts, he places an endearing kiss to your sternum and sets his sights onto your nipples.

Hand resting on the nape of his neck, you arch into the feeling of his wet mouth latching onto your nipple, peak caught between his tongue and teeth as he teases you, and tug on his hair.

He savours this, moaning before switching to your other nipple, not wanting to leave one without the same amount of attention. At this point, your panties are embarrassingly soaked from all of the stimulation.

“You’re so good to me,” you whine, not talking about just this very moment. You’re reminiscing about the past couple of months you’ve spent in his care too and something tells you that he knows that too.

He releases your nipple from his lips and glances up at you, “Is that so, angel?”

“Mhm,” you mumble, not sure what he wants you to say or what you should say to keep the mood going, “all the time. Miss you so much because of it,” you pout slightly, not wanting to draw too much from the conversation in case things went sideways.

You bring your hands to his cheeks, resting either side and pinch lightly, toying with him. “Keep me happy,” you state before leaning down to kiss him again. His eyes flutter close and you trail your hands down his abdomen, pressing harder with your nails as you slide them down to the hem of his jumper.

“Off,” you mutter against his lips. He gladly complies, you were topless and it was only fair he comes level with your nakedness. When you part momentarily to lift it over his head, your hungry eyes zone in on how constricted his hardened dick was within the confines of his sweatpants.

Jaehyun notices this, ruffled hair askew and mind now clear from the fog you had bestowed upon him when you had kissed him. He knew what he wanted, did you want it too?

Without hesitation, you palm the outline of his dick over the sweatpants, wanting to see his reaction. You were best pleased when he fights the urge to roll his eyes but bites his lip to stop himself from thrusting into your silky touch. Not that he’d felt that today, just yet.

You stifle a giggle, “Eager, pretty boy.”

One kiss is placed to his lips before you slip off of his lap, knees thudding as they land on the floor. You hook your index fingers around the waistband of his sweats and underpants, the tell-tale Tommy band staring back at you, knowing he would comply but you only pull them down just enough to free his weeping cock.

It springs up, slapping against his abdomen, veins prominent from the grining you had been doing earlier. Your mouth waters at the sight and you lick your lips, praying that it lives up to your expectations.

You give him a few slow strokes of your nails up him and one of his hands reaching up to push a few stray strands of hair form your face.

He groans when you finally wrap your slender fingers around his shaft, thumb wiping the leaking tip of his swollen mushroom head. It throbbed a pretty shade of pink, much like his lips, after you pressed a delicate kiss to the top.

“So, so good to me, angel,” are the words that leave his lips when you lick your own before dipping your head to lick up the underside. You offered a devilish smile and lowered your hot mouth onto his throbbing length slowly, wanting to savour every second and push Jaehyun to his limit.

You hum in agreeance to his statement, sending a shiver up his spine and eliciting a moan from him, his hands quickly tangling themselves in your loose hair as he makes a make-shift ponytail to keep your hair out of your face.

Once your jaw has adjusted to the burn of his girth, he helps you bob your head up and down, curling the ponytail around one hand and using that as leverage. Flattening your tongue, you press it to the underneath of his length. You experiment with seeing how much you can take as it’s been a long time since you’ve been intimate with someone like this. One of your manicured hands reaches down to tickle his balls – a trick Hyejin had taught you the last time you were having one of those conversations – and he all but thrusts up into your throat, making you clench your legs and rub them together for some friction as your eyes close tight, forcing tears to run down your face.

“Oh fuck, I don’t think I can ah-” he lifts you off of his dick and brings your mouth to his, pressing hard against your own.

You’re flushed from his abrupt actions but that doesn’t stop you from stripping yourself of your leggings when he practically begs you to. Unsure what he wants next, you fiddle until he instructs you, “Those too,” he gestures to your panties. They weren’t grand but, had you not been about to get it on with possibly the hottest and most caring man you’ve come across, you would’ve been embarrassed about him seeing them in any normal situation.

Once they’re discarded, he stands, shimmys out of his sweats and pants and brings you close to him and guides a leg to wrap around his waist, rock hard dick pressed between your two sweaty bodies.

He kisses you hard, a clash on tongue and teeth; it’s one of the messiest kisses you had ever been on the receiving end of but ultimately still one of the best you’ve been able to experience, and lowers the two of you onto the sofa.

Again, you’re perched on your heels. He breaks the kiss, looking between your bodies to align himself with your entrance. “I’m sorry, angel,” he mutters against the column of your throat.

“Wha-”

He waits no longer before slipping himself into your core impossibly easily, as he sets a killer pace.

Squealing, you let your head fall onto his shoulder as you try your best to thrust down as much as he thrusts up into you but it was proving difficult as he suckled sweetly on the juncture where your neck and shoulder met – sending your senses into overdrive.

“S-so tight,” he breathes out, trickles of sweat forming in his hairline. One of the few brain cells you have working tells you the clench on his next thrust, only making him moan louder than before. In response, he ups the pace, setting his sights on destroying your sweet pussy.

Knowing full-well that he hadn’t tasted your arousal like he had originally intended, he brings his finger to dance across your clit, stimulating the bundle of nerves until you were whining, hips stuttering as your vision hazes, unsure of how to control yourself. Still unable to match his deadly pace, you settle on tensing your legs and hovering above him where he pounds upwards, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing around the room.

You knew that by the time he was going to be finished, your ass was going to be tainted red from where his balls were slapping your underside as he pounds into you.

“Jaehyun,” you barely manage to breathe out, “fu… fuck.” Not what you were going for so you give it another try, “Jae… kiss.”

His eyes linger on your disheveled features. You open your eyes and look down at him, worried that he hadn’t heard you. His eyes meet yours; you pout, “Kiss me, p-ah–” one particularly strong thrust ignites inside you, the tell-tale sign of your orgasm about to snap through you; halts your half-hearted attempt at riding him.

He captures your lips with his, nibbling on your lip before licking it as if to heal it. His fingers are still rubbing tiny circles in your clit that send you over the edge and into complete euphoria, spine arching.

Within milliseconds, your vision is blurring and eyes unfocus, switching for white dots across your line of sight to pair with the white hot pleasure ripping through your core. “Ah,” you whine, “oh... Jae-Jaehyun,” your voice breaks, not being able to comprehend the possibility of more thanone thing happening at once.

As you clamp down on him unintentionally, he groans, unable to hold back any longer and empties his load inside your trembling pussy, cursing as he does.

Moments pass before he can bring himself to say anything, “You’re so perfect, angel. So pretty and perfect.”

You lift your head to look at him. At his fucked-out face you melt into him, swety bodies gradually becoming one and sliding off of his softening cock so you can wrap your arms around his neck and nuzzle closer to him. He brings his arms around your waist, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and breathing sharply through his nose.

“You’re so good to me. Can’t remember the last time someone fucked me that good,” you whisper against the shell of his ear. You have one hand raking your fingers through his hair. You breathe out a laugh as he shivers at the feeling.

Knowing that was probably an ego boost enough, you press a languid kiss to the side of his mouth, not really paying much attention to where your lips landed. Continuing to pepper him with kisses, he stirs slightly, not wanting all of this attention to go to waste.

“Hey, c’mere,” he says, holding you from your waist before slowly lowering you onto the sofa beside him so your back is flat.

You’re barely holding it together, Jaehyun’s cum trickling down the side of your leg from your sore hole. He pushes your legs apart, one falls haphazardly off of the sofa and the other is pressed between his side and the back of the sofa. He doesn’t care, though, bringing two fingers up to meet your quivering core.

“What are you doi – ah!”

A lazy grin spreads across Jaehyun’s face, his fingers now covered in yours and his essence as he stuffs it back into you. The overstimulation makes you quiver but he was determined about making you suffer. “So pretty with my cum stuffed inside you, angel, so pretty.”

By now, you’re convinced he’s drunk but you don’t put it past yourself to consider yourself just as drunk on him as he is on you. You squirm, not wanting him to continue as his fingers repeat their actions. “O-oh, too much,” you whimper, “sore, so fucking sore baby.”

You knew you probably could’ve handled a little more but he obliges, not wanting to scare you away (as if that was even possible) and finishes by pushing his fingers past your lips, coaxing you to lick them clean.

Gladly, you do as he was silently suggesting.

He groans, his dick twitching but he ignores it, knowing you’re still healing and by the state of you currently, you probably weren’t up for another round. Instead, he picks you up bridal style and takes you to the bathroom, feet wobbling a few times on the way before getting to the bathroom.

“Gotta clean up, angel.”

You mumble, putting your legs to use and absently moving to switch the shower head on, soaking both of you in the stall. The water is freezing but you make no complaints, wanting to settle the heat radiating from your body. Jaehyun says nothing too. He just helps you clean yourself as you’re making a half-hearted effort – this makes him chuckle.

Twenty minutes later, the both of you are laying on his bed (the one he gave up for you), snuggled into each other.

For the first time in a long time, you slept in the crook on an arm where you felt safe, possibly loved (that would have to be addressed another time).

While you lay, breathing slowly as you listen to his heartbeat, Jaehyun has his head propped up with one arm and his other arm rests on your side, t-shirt that he had lent you riding up on the side, fingers running up and down as he takes in the feel of your smooth skin under his fingertips.

Jaehyun was smitten.

a/n: hi hello. how, uh, how was it? feel free to leave me some feedback or pop in my ask box. you’re all my angels. i just like posting to post sometimes but interaction is p darn cool too. lyl <3

i follow from @00solarsmiles

net: @neowritingsnet

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Written In The Stars CXXXIX (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I’m scared to see how you guys will react to this one, hope you at least find it enjoyable despite my very self-indulgent plots -Danny

P.S. Huge s/o to @bwbatta bc I decided to update my fic and now I have pretty dividers in all my books! Most of the ones I ended up using are her work so go check it out :)

Words: 4,641

Series’ Masterlist

Book V // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Need Your Love’ -by Joshua Wicker

Chapter One: Dumbledore's Mission.

"A galleon says Erick will crash the car —"

"Shut up!"

"Don't make him nervous," Emily scolded Harry. "If you continue this I won't teach you how to drive!"

"We don't need to learn," Mel snorted. "We'll apparate everywhere..."

"I thought you hated it," Her mother raised a brow.

"Yeah, but she's lazy," Harry smirked.

"Why is Harry here? He's not allowed to leave the house, is he?" Mel frowned.

"He's not allowed to be alone outside, there's a difference. We're babysitting two infants, unfortunately..." Erick taunted.

"What's the matter, Flint? You have stage-fright?" Harry replied.

"Oh please, he feeds on attention! Like a dementor but in a more annoying way..."

"Enough!" Emily looked over her seat. "Is that the kind of things you want to teach your brother?"

"I doubt he'll remember any of this!"

"We know he can do it, Em, we're just teasing," Harry said blithely.

"Yeah, he's the only adult here apart from you, mum. It's kind of his obligation to be good at driving."

The baby let out a squeal of agreement, he was three weeks old but had a good set of lungs that he was happy to use at any given time, especially while everyone was sleeping.

Harry leaned and checked that the baby's blankets. Mel beamed at the sight, the boy had pretty much adopted the boy as his own brother, which she thought made a lot of sense, not only because it was Sirius' son, but because he'd been part of her family for so long that anything else would've been silly.

They were well aware that bringing little Regulus to their driving lessons was a bit risky, but Emily wasn't as keen to leave Mel and Harry alone in the house as she used to, so she put a few safety spells on the chair once the baby was seated while Harry and Mel sat on both sides of it.

Erick turned out to be a good driver, but he still had a bit of trouble understanding how cars worked.

"I have to be pulling and pushing stuff all the time!" He complained as he activated the windshield on accident for the third time. "Why can't I just turn the key and press the pedal?"

"Cars don't work like that," Emily said patiently. "It's complicated, but you're good!"

"He's only gone up and down the street for half an hour, Leggie fell asleep already," The girl huffed.

Emily looked over the seat once again, she was frowning. "Erick, switch seats with Mel."

"You're joking... right?"

"Erick," The woman repeated.

"On it," He said happily. "C'mon Mel, are you scared?"

Ten minutes later, Erick was in the backseat and she was tightly holding onto the wheel.

"I'm doing it!" She said. "Is not that hard, is it?"

"A slug could move faster," Harry was looking at the roof of the car and dying of heat. "I thought you were going to be more... the reckless type of driver."

"Me too..." Erick agreed lazily, he was playing with one of Reggie's feet.

"I'm not going faster, my brother's in the car!" Mel scoffed.

"We're not asking you to! Just enough so we can feel like we're actually moving!"

"Bringing you three was a bad idea," Emily said over the boys' laughter.

"Fine!" Mel pressed down the pedal, the car immediately gaining speed. "I'm was just being careful!"

"Which makes me proud," Emily softly patted her shoulder. "It feels like it was yesterday when you were running around Remus' house in nothing but a diaper and now you're driving!"

"The other night I ran into her wearing no pants, so she's hasn't changed really," Erick murmured nonchalantly. "I stepped on Grey's tail thanks to that... maybe that's why he hates me so much."

"What?" Harry's head snapped to the side so fast he hurt himself.

"I forgot you live here now! Sometimes I sleep like that, s'not a crime!" She looked at Harry through the rearview mirror. "I've been an only child for sixteen years, sometimes I forget there are more than two people in my house..."

"I'm surprised her scream didn't wake up Leon," Erick sniggered.

"He's a heavy sleeper like his dad," Emily responded distractedly.

The conversation died instantly. It wasn't the woman's intention, of course, but it'd been only a few weeks since Sirius' passing, sometimes they would forget for a moment, just a brief second, then one of them would talk about Sirius and everything would start again...

It was painful, and it was weird. Mel had never endured something like this with anyone except Harry. Having a larger group of people sharing the same pain was strangely comforting.

Mel cleared her throat. "It's Harry's turn..."

"I'm okay," He said quickly. "I can learn another day..."

"Glasses, you and I have a tradition of experiencing things at the same time," The girl stopped the car and turned to look at him. "You're not going to ruin our streak. Besides, I need to know if I'm better than you."

Harry stared at her in amusement, then he looked at Erick.

"Is it fun, having her bossing you around all day?"

"I boss her around too," Erick smirked.

"They take turns," Her mother sighed.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Harry gave the woman a look of sympathy as he stepped out of the car.

"There are worse things than being stuck with two pushy teenagers..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Emily smirked. "A pushy teenager and a pushy adult."

"If it annoys you that much I'll move out," Mel offered humorously. "What d'you say, Prince? Should we try our luck outside our comfort zone?"

"You wouldn't last a day," Erick taunted.

"Fiddlesticks," Mel muttered, to which Harry laughed.

It was around three in the morning when someone knocked on her door. She'd been awake for a while now, so she stood up and opened it.

"Hi," She rubbed her eyes. "What's up?"

"Can't sleep," Erick mumbled. "Care if I stay a moment?"

"Go ahead..."

She went back to bed, Erick sat at the edge and stared at her for a moment. Grey let out a sleepy growl, curling further away from his reach. Erick pulled out his pocket watch, now hanging from a chain he'd found in Regulus Black's room back in Grimmauld Place. The reason why he'd taken it was unknown to Mel.

"What's up?" She mumbled, suppressing a yawn.

"I'm thinking."

"About?"

"How lucky I am."

Mel let out a puff of air without replying. He would do this often, say he was lucky to be there, that she'd saved his life... She just wanted him to shut up.

"I really don't want to punch you, Prince, I'd ruin your pretty nose."

He smiled, unbothered.

"You know, a few years ago you would've been pleased to hear me say that, you ungrateful git."

"Yeah well, a few years ago my biggest dream was to become a princess," She joked. "So you see my priorities were a bit messed up..."

"You'd make a cute princess."

"C'mon —"

"I mean it."

"Erick," Mel said in a tone of warning. "Stop."

He'd been acting like that for a whole week: flirting when no one was around, complimenting her... Mel had closed up so tightly around herself that she was barely capable of saying I love you to her mum. Erick had lived deprived of affection his whole life and was just getting out of that environment. At what point had she become the cold, distant one, and he the ray of sunshine?

She knew right away what he was trying to do, but she was so numb... Mel cared about him, but she was not there yet.

Erick leaned on the wall and tilted his head a bit so he could look at her.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" She replied. "It's not your fault... I just — I need time."

He nodded shortly.

"We can talk later?"

He was wonderful, but she was in the middle of all that was wrong in their world, right next to Harry and the lifeline that she still hadn't decided whether she wanted to keep or not.

"We should go to bed," She murmured, still unable to make any real decisions for herself.

"Yeah," He stood up, carefully putting the blankets back in place and dropping them all over Grey on purpose. He put the watch back in his pocket as well. "Sweet dreams, Mely."

The Ministry of Magic

PROTECTING YOUR HOME AND FAMILY AGAINST DARK FORCES

The Wizarding community is currently under threat from an organization calling itself the Death Eaters. Observing the following simple security guidelines will help protect you, your family, and your home from attack.

"I have a better way to protect our house," Erick groaned, he was gently rubbing his temples. "Let Leon cry the whole night and not even Voldemort will try to enter... I myself am starting to consider living on the street just to get away from the noise."

"S'not that bad," She answered, the dark circles under her eyes giving her away. "It's hard to get used to being a human, you know?"

"Look at this," Emily unfolded the newspaper. "'Scrimgeour succeeds Fudge' — Well, haven't met him yet but I hope he's got a bit of brain, Tonks told me a few months back that he's certainly a bit brisker..."

The doorbell rang and Mel left to open the door.

The routine at that point was established even if it had been only two weeks since their arrival; Erick got used to life at Privet Drive quite easily, he spent two whole days examining every corner of the kitchen, and when Mel showed him what a movie was, he wasted a whole day in the drawing-room watching the movie adaptations of the books she'd lent to him.

Harry would go daily to check on"Reg". Once he'd stayed the night but refused to sleep in Mel's room, not that she'd tried to convince him otherwise.

"Goodmorning," She opened the door without paying attention, "you're a bit late for breakfast but I'll let it pass as soon as you —"

She stopped talking at the sight of her great-uncle, Dumbledore smiled at her and walked in.

"I can't stay for breakfast, but I dare say I regret it deeply."

"Professor... I — Is everything okay?"

"Certainly."

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

Mel turned to see her mother standing near the stairs, gazing at Dumbledore coldly.

"Emily," Dumbledore said. "Good morning... I'm here to speak with Mr Flint."

"Is he in trouble?"

"Quite the contrary, I believe he's never been better."

"Professor," Erick's posture changed when he walked into the room, suddenly he looked more like a young man and less like a boy. "What can I do for you?"

"I have a mission for you... Mel as well, but only if she wishes to go."

"She's not of age," The woman replied quickly.

Mel was ready to accept whatever it was he wanted her to do, she needed to feel like she was doing something. Although she wasn't exactly happy to see him so soon after the end of their last term.

"As I said, only if she wishes to come. I assure you she'd be safe."

The girl looked at her mother and then at the men standing in front of her.

"Can I hear what this is about first?"

Emily crossed her arms without uttering a word, her uncle signalled towards the couch.

"A word, then?"

Erick nodded, making a beeline to the closest armchair. Emily turned to leave, but Dumbledore spoke again.

"You can stay."

The woman shared a look with her daughter, Mel couldn't hide her eagerness to hear what the old man had to say.

"I won't sit there and watch history repeat itself," Emily sighed.

The woman left before Mel could say anything. She would talk to her later, but first, she needed to talk to Dumbledore.

"I beg you not to interrupt me while I speak."

Both pupils silently agreed to his petition.

"Now, I find myself in need of a new Professor, but the man I'd been contemplating for the job has been on the run for almost a year — He's not guilty of any crimes," He added, noticing the way their faces grew worried. "He's just afraid like everyone else... I need you to track him down and point me to where he is so I can have a word with him."

"I'll do it," Erick responded instantly.

"Alone?" Mel frowned.

Dumbledore stared at her for a second too long.

"If I remember correctly today is your sixteenth birthday, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Mr Flint turned seventeen in January — You may know that's considered to be the start of our adulthood."

"Yes."

"Erick is allowed to do magic outside school... But you still have a year left."

"I don't see —"

"You have Matthew's spirit when it comes to saving a friend, Mel. When you were eleven you left this house with Hagrid so you could look for Harry yourself... The time has come for me to finally be honest with you."

"What do you mean 'finally'?" The words were burning a hole in her brain. "You mean all the things you told me when I was in your office last month... that wasn't it?"

Erick stared at them with polite interest, even though she knew he was dying to ask. Mel hadn't told him a thing about that night out of respect for Harry's privacy.

"That was all I had to tell you regarding the Harry," Dumbledore replied. "There are plenty of things I haven't said, and I wish to talk about them with you."

"And if I agree to go with Erick on this mission... you'll tell me?" Mel raised a brow.

"I'll tell you whether you help me with this or not, but I believe there's nothing else I can teach you, Mel. All that's left for you is to start putting your knowledge to use; I recommend you to go on this mission."

"What about my animagus lessons?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled. "I'll help you with that, but that'll be it. You've concluded your lessons with the highest marks, dear girl."

She would've been elated hadn't been because of the strange way her uncle was acting.

"Aren't you happy?" Erick nudged her arm gently. "You've worked hard for years, you should be proud!"

"I am proud," Mel replied shortly. "And I'd love to help, but I can't leave my family, it's not safe."

"They'd go to the burrow if you leave."

"What about Harry?"

"He'll go to the burrow too, but I have a few matters to attend with his family first."

"If Mel wants to stay that's alright, I can go on my own —"

"You can't."

Erick looked at her irritated.

"It's not like you can do magic outside school."

"It takes more than magic to survive out there — You don't know how to blend in with the muggles, do you?"

"You can discuss this throughout the day," Dumbledore grabbed a letter from his pocket. "In this, you'll find all about Horace Slughorn's last known whereabouts and a picture so you can identify him. If you do, don't approach, he'll know you're following him. As soon as you find him come back to Privet Drive and write to me."

"This is all just in case we decide to go, right?"

"I'm going," Erick scowled at her.

"We'll talk about this after dinner," She glared back.

Dumbledore stood up and they followed, Emily was at the entrance ready to let him out.

"I'll wait for your response, then," Her uncle stared at her for a moment. "You and Harry..."

"We haven't decided," She was quick to reply. "We need time."

"Very well."

"You're quiet."

"I have a lot to think about."

Her day had been slightly ruined by her great-uncle's visit. Although Lupin had been there for a couple of hours and stayed for dinner. Mel and Erick talked about the mission and she'd promised to tell Harry after the party was over, which was now.

The Slytherin was upstairs taking a shower and Emily was putting Reggie to bed. Mel and Harry were sitting on the grass, watching the stars above them. She'd fallen into contemplative silence, pondering what to do. She could go chase some stranger for Dumbledore's benefit, or she could stay and look after her family.

"This would be much easier if my mum had asked me to stay!" She pouted.

"I reckon she knows that," Harry responded, throwing small rocks over the fence.

"Won't you?"

"Hmm?"

"You won't ask me to stay?"

Harry stared at her.

"No."

He didn't explain his reasons, but he didn't need to. Mel had made up her mind even if she didn't want to admit it. That was exactly why she was so upset, she wanted to look after her family, but her responsibilities were keeping her apart. Three years of hard work had led to this, and although Mel was a big sister now, winning the war was more important than changing diapers.

Her mother was a whole different problem too. Around them she was always cheery, but Mel was sure she'd heard her cry when none of the boys was around to hear.

She believed it was about Sirius, but it could also be about her and Harry, that she was scared for them. Mel didn't have the heart to lie if her mother were to ask about the prophecy. It was, as they had agreed without even having to speak about it, too much weight to put on their loved one's shoulders. The idea of Emily, the closest thing to a mother Harry ever had, finding out there was a big chance one of them would die after having lost Sirius in such a brutal way...

"I don't think I'll be able to look at Dumbledore in the eye if I come back empty-handed..."

"You're one of the best witches I know," Harry shrugged. "You'll be fine, just try not to murder Flint while you're away."

"He's less annoying now," She grinned. "Ever since he left his parents' house, dunno, he's improved. Although I might murder him if he doesn't stop —"

She was going to say 'flirting', but for some reason, she didn't feel ready to talk about that with Harry. She wasn't ready for anything and yet the world was forcing her to keep moving, it was exhausting.

Mel got up and offered her hand to her friend.

"Do you remember when you were just Harry and I was just Mel, and we were the odd kids at school?" She fixed her gaze on her bedroom window. "Wish we could go back to that."

"When I didn't know I was a wizard?"

"Things were easier back then, don't you think?"

"Maybe," He retorted. "But they were never entirely good."

In Harry, Mel found another reason to stay.

They could have the summer to talk about the things they needed to. She would stare at his aged features and compare them to the ones of that young boy she used to call her best friend...

Their bond still had thousands of cracks that had to be fixed, Mel was having a hard time letting him in again and they needed to be okay in order to know if they wanted to keep the lifeline or not. It wasn't that she didn't want to like him, she wanted the comfort he used to provide, the warmth and security of having someone who understood.

He knew it, and he was trying his best to not mess it up, but Mel didn't want to love him again, cutting the lifeline was the best way to assure that... It was easier said than done, though.

Harry was confused. Sometimes it felt like nothing would ever happen, then an overwhelming affection would crush his chest whenever Mel laughed or touched him. He didn't want to put a name to it, he was terrified of saying it, even to himself. All he knew was that the connection was a way to make sure Mel would be safe, and he didn't want to give that up.

"I should go."

"Yeah..."

"Happy birthday," He said. "I have to be honest and tell you that your present was meant to be sent last Christmas, but..."

"I didn't give you a present either, it's okay... I'm a bit angry though, that was a missed opportunity, I could've won."

Harry laughed.

"You'll have a new chance this year, but I doubt you'll be able to beat me — I've already gotten yours..."

"It's July!"

"I know," His smile vanished suddenly, then he added. "Be careful out there, please."

"Erick'll make sure I don't do anything stupid," Mel smiled. "He's so obsessed with protecting me — as if he didn't know I can do it alone just fine!"

"Yeah, but now's different."

"Different how?"

"We need you alive," He told her. "You want to live long enough to become Headmistress, right?"

Mel froze, not knowing what to answer.

"What?" Harry tilted his head.

"I lied," She blurted out. "I never wanted to be Headmistress — I saw you that night, in the mirror... I saw..."

"What?" He asked again, this time softer.

"You kissed me. A real kiss... like the type we used to gawk at as children."

Harry cleared his throat. "Oh."

A tense silence surrounded them. The variations of colour in his eyes were remarkably easy to notice from where she was standing. She was tilting her head up now, perhaps they were too close.

"Be careful."

"You told me that already," Mel whispered, unable to look away. "Anything else you'd like to say?"

"Yes," He paused, his eyes took a quick glance to her lips. "But if I say it you'll get mad."

Harry kissed her, Mel responded by pulling him down.

It was hard to tell whether she was euphoric or scared, perhaps both, or perhaps neither. As soon as it happened Harry jumped away, and she was dropped back into reality.

"I can't do it — We haven't talked about the lifeline — We won't make the right choice if we let our feelings —"

"You're right! Yes!" Mel said, acting just as agitated. "It's a terrible idea — I like you, but—"

"—it's confusing," He said anxiously. "Do you have feelings for me?"

"Do you have feelings for me?" Mel asked in a high-pitched voice.

"No!" He responded, but his voice trembled with a lack of confidence. "I care about you a lot —"

"— I care for you too —"

"— But just —"

"— as friends!"

They stared at each other with the same frightened expression.

"I'm sorry if I made things uncomfortable," He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I... I don't want to lose you."

"We need to spend some time apart," She nodded, avoiding his eyes. "We can ignore this happened, right?"

"Absolutely," He agreed. "You're spending the summer at the burrow?"

"My mum and my brother will be there, so I kind of have to... is that okay?"

"It's okay," Harry looked around. "We... we should go."

"Did you ever regret falling for my dad?" Mel asked randomly. "I mean, you ever wonder how things would've turned out if you'd stayed as friends?"

Emily stopped folding her clothes.

"Something nagging that head of yours?"

"I think relationships are a waste of time. They all break and you always end up hurting..."

"What makes you think such nonsense?" Emily raised a brow, leaning back on the couch. "Who are you and what did you do to my daughter?"

"You don't think that way?" She asked doubtfully.

"Because I lost my partners that means I have to be bitter?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Mel replied quickly. "But... yeah."

Emily remained silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

"Solitude can do weird things to your heart, love. It can pull you towards bad or good places... People that make you feel a little less lonesome, someone who understands you. You should hold onto that for as long as you can, no matter how scary it is. You never know what wonderful things may bring you..."

"Sirius said something similar a year ago," Mel said quietly. "Something about finding my equal, that the earth's full of options and stuff..."

"I won't force you to find a partner if that's not what you want, but you're young and the world is big, you can't turn your back on every opportunity."

"It's not like I have lots of prospects right now..." She huffed.

"You don't need lots, just the right one."

Mel hesitated for a moment, then added:

"I know you used to have a crush on James Potter."

Emily looked up from the laundry again, she raised a brow. "Oh?"

"I know it was a long time ago," She shifted in her place awkwardly. "But do you ever wonder what would've happened if you two..?"

The woman sighed.

"Only once."

"When?"

"When I found out Voldemort was after his son," She folded the last shirt and handed it to Mel. "I asked myself if I had made the right choice by giving him up... When I look at you I know it was the right thing to do. What happened to James and Lily... it was horrible, but it wasn't my fault. I was happy with your father; maybe Matthew wasn't my first love, but when it comes to this, your first love rarely is the one that lasts."

"Mel?" Erick walked into the room. "If we're planning to drive around all day tomorrow, you should sleep," He nodded shortly at both of them and left the room, her mother chuckled.

"You know, Erick reminds me of your father... I know Sirius said he was like his brother, but Regulus made all the wrong choices... Erick's done all this for himself, to be better. Just like Matty."

Mel's gaze lingered on the doorway long after Erick had left.

"Thank you, for letting me go," She sighed, looking back at the woman. "I don't love following Dumbledore's orders but I... I want to make this world a better place."

"Love," Emily cupped her face adoringly. "I know why you're doing this. Just how I knew why you flew that car to save Harry, and why you went to the Ministry... but you're my daughter, and it's my job to worry about you anyway."

Erick and Mel took three changes of clothing and put them in the trunk, Emily gave them muggle money. Mel had a fake driver's license as well as Erick, and they would take turns driving. Harry was nowhere to be seen, but it was expected since it was five in the morning. She hadn't mentioned the kiss to either her mother or Erick, she was determined to keep it that way, much like the whole lifeline stuff and the prophecy.

'Just pile more secrets on top, why don't you,' She thought bitterly as she walked out of the house.

Emily hugged both and let them kiss Reggie goodbye, Mel promised they would see each other soon, and Erick vowed he'd make sure Mel would be safe (she snorted loudly at this). Once inside the car, her friend took a deep breath.

"Ready?"

"This isn't our first adventure, Prince."

"This one's the first we do with permission."

"You're an adult, you don't need anyone's approval."

"You know what I mean," He rolled his eyes.

"Sorry. I get defensive when I'm —"

"I know," He sighed. "I talk too much when I'm worried."

"I know," She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. "I'm ready... We'll be okay."

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @hamiltonwc @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #Harry Potter #harry potter xoc #harry potter fanfiction #WITT fic

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halfpint55 · 4 years

Text

A Defence of Kataang with regards to how they are portrayed in TLoK (it’s long but there’s headcanons at the end)

Note: This is not about shipping wars. This is a safe zone. This is not about Zutara vs Kataang. This is me defending Kataang and the characters themselves...from the writers.

I initially wrote this as a response to a post that got me heated. My reblog just made it too long so here it is as its own post.

Now this post ripped apart Kataang as a couple but more than that said some stuff about Aang himself that hurt my heart. I didn’t really want to pick on this post but its condemning of Kataang was based almost entirely in what we know of them as parents in TLoK and honestly it’s that lil nugget of canon that I take issue with. It has bothered me from the get go because it doesn’t make sense from a writing and story perspective, and it’s been pissing me off since I watched it.

TL;DR nice and early bc this post is gonna be a long one:

This particular condemnation of Kataang rests almost entirely on the SHITTY way they were portrayed as parents by the writers of LoK, and in all honesty, on this particular topic, canon should be ignored.

Overall Kataang parenting is of my biggest gripes with LoK because in terms of writing it’s totally incongruous - it doesn’t fit, it doesn’t align, and it makes zero sense for what we know of those characters, and I don’t know if I can ever forgive the showrunners for allowing it to be written it into canon.

I will also preface this by saying I like LoK - love it. I had a scroll through the comments and reblogs on this post, and a lot of the hate towards this portrayal of Kataang ended up being blamed on the “terrible writing of LoK” which is not where I stand at all. That being said I am so angry at the writers for this one.

The other portion of the concurring comments that were very hateful towards Kataang came from Zutara shippers and honestly for me, although I do ship Kataang, this not a just a Kataang issue. I’m of the belief that Zutara would’ve just as easily been written to have similar issues due to very similar dynamics - Zutara also would have been two powerful benders from very different cultures, and with Zuko/Aang (whoever you ship w her) having a massively important global leadership role that is embedded in who they are, and therefore impossible to ignore as a factor in their relationship.

Now let me be clear, my desire to reject canon on this front is by no means me wanting to believe the best of my faves, and not wanting to hear a word against Aang. It’s not even necessarily a defence of Kataang bc I ship it that hard (I mean I do but I can set that aside for the sake of argument if that’s what you need from me here).

The first, and main issue people have with Aang/Kataang in Korra, is the first point of the original post:

So why in hell would [Katara] be okay with Aang ignoring TWO of their children’s complete existence once he found out they had an airbending son?

And I agree with the post on this front; Katara would not have allowed her children to each be treated differently by their father. I had the same initial thought when watching LoK, and it’s the reason I hate and want to ignore the canon of LoK so badly.

As much as it hurts to think of, we have to accept that Aang wouldn’t have been able to stop his preferential treatment for Tenzin from bleeding through into his parenting just out of a desperate desire to save his culture (which is absolutely understandable - doesn’t make it okay, but it’s understandable; Aang suffered an incredible loss, a massive cultural trauma which he alone carries the burden of). So of course he wasn’t able to hide how excited he was, and forgot to be mindful of his attitude and behaviour towards Kya and Bumi. So this aspect of canon Kataang? Yeah, I’m with it. So far so good. EXCEPT the most unrealistic element of canon is now that Katara would let him. I simply do not believe for a second that Katara would’ve allowed Aang to be the kind of parent LoK painted him to be.

However, I do not think it would’ve been a point of contention between the two of them! Katara would pull him aside, Katara would gently (but firmly) point out what Aang mightn’t be able to see for himself - he’s focusing too hard on Tenzin.

And Aang would listen.

All throughout A;tLA the two of them often help the other sort through their stuff. Aang has a great track record of being receptive to Katara’s advice and help (calming him down when discovering Monk Gyatso’s body, The Desert when he Appa is stolen, Serpent’s Pass when he’s bottling his feelings about Appa being missing). He’s also just so receptive to others’ ideas - he just goes with it and trusts in his friends (think of his trust in Katara’s plan to rescue Haru, his trust in staying behind with Sokka in the library to get the eclipse info). Aang’s humility is one of the most incredible things about him and it’s at the core of who he is. He would absolutely be able to hear Katara telling him he’s focusing too hard on one child - he would be open, and he’d listen.

So to me now canon just does not make sense at all. it does not align with their established character traits. And yes, people change as they get older and grow into adulthood but honestly, the elements of their respective personalities that we’re talking about here are pretty core elements of who these two people are.

Katara has always been fiercely protective of those she loves, strongwilled, stubborn, and ready to (vocally or physically) fight for what she believes is right and that wouldn’t disappear as she gets older. She wouldn’t let Aang’s preferrential treatment slide.

Aang has always been, and chose to be despite his loss, an optimistic, kind, believe in the best of humanity kind of person. He’s open to all points of view, he’s a good listener, he always tries his absolute best to find solutions that are good for everyone. And again his humility, his willingness to love, is who he is. He believes all humans (including fkn OZAI) and all life are sacred, he believes in the absolute right to life. The kid is a vegetarian for crying out loud.

Now the parts of the take in the post that hurt my heart to read about what OP thinks of Aang:

“Aang never made an attempt to establish anything resembling a real familial unit with Katara, basically just stayed around until she popped out an Airbender [...] she was treated like some trophy wife to give birth to airbenders and that’s it!”

I wasn’t going to address this in this post until I read the comments in the notes, because people seem to agree. They share the sentiment that Katara was reduced to “just a love interest” by the two ending up together.

However I do very much take issue w the notion that Aang “basically just stayed around until she popped out an Airbender” (and honestly that entire paragraph - we don’t actually know that Aang didn’t make an effort to establish a family unit). As much as the LoK writers fucked up in their portrayal of Kataang as parents, this is a much harsher judgement of Aang’s character as a husband and father than anything implied by Aang and Katara’s children. I just don’t buy that Aang would view Katara (or anyone he married, even if you don’t ship Kataang) as a trophy wife, whose only role is to have airbender children. He never has viewed her that way - he has always looked at her like she’s the sun, and the most important person to him after she pulled him out of the iceburg. He loves her the most of anyone on the planet. It does not align with his character, his values or beliefs that he’d think of her (or any partner) that way. He is so besotted with Katara for who she is it HURT me to read that part of your take. Aang simply would never. Look at how he looks at her!

What’s more is the unwavering respect and deference he shows Katara as his waterbending master - he recognises and loves her as the whole, complete, three dimensional, TALENTED POWERFUL INCREDIBLE WOMAN that she is. She is NEVER “just” a love interest for Aang. (But ALSO, do we respect Suki any less for being Sokka’s obvious love interest??? No. suki is written to be so badass that Sokka is HER love interest and I think Katara has equally badass energy but I digress).

Moving on!

OP made an excellent point that there would’ve been culturally different values between the two but I don’t think it would’ve been family that was the clashing point. Yes the airbenders value spirituality and enlightenment. But they lived together in massive communities! They supported and raised one another. Their community and culture was strong, and they were bonded in their spirituality! They value love, as well as enlightenment, peace, and the lives of all.

Now, again the points they made about the cultural divides within the Kataang family unit are valid, but also again I dislike how they chose to portray this in LoK. It would definitely be a struggle they faced as a couple. However I think they really missed an opportunity here with where they took it. Because they do at one point in the comics have Katara bring up the fact that their family will be a blend of two cultures, and she brings it up because Aang is trying so hard to bring balance back to the world by means of seperation.

They’ve known from the get go of being a couple that they’re going to have to navigate being a culturally blended family unit.

So I find it so shitty that they wrote it so that Kya got to learn the waterbending culture, Tenzin got Air and bumi got…nothing? It’s dangerously close to the way Disney does the “the girls are carbon copies of mum, and the boys are carbon copies of dad” thing (think Lady and the Tramp). It’s lazy. Especially when we had that “separation is an illusion” episode, AND things like Zuko learning different nation’s styles and applying them to his firebending, and Sokka learning an element of strategy or fighting from every nation.

So give us Kya using Airbending moves with her waterbending (maybe she invents the water scooter)! Give us Tenzin doing more grounded moves that Aunty Toph (or Lin, while they were together) taught him from earthbending.

There are much more creative ways to illustrate the bumps and troubles Kataang might have run into in trying to navigate incorporating equal parts of their cultures in their children and family unit. Even just smaller scale issues like food and meals - how do they figure out how to do mealstimes with Aang’s vegetarianism with Katara’s culturally significant Water Tribe meat dishes? And then even taking into account how picky little kids can be!

Give me a scene where they literally just ate moon pies for a week because toddler Kya would scream if you put anything else down in front of her.

Maybe Bumi demanded sea prunes over and over but Katara and Bumi are the only ones who like them, and Bumi bonds with his mother this way - they go on little one-on-one outings to water tribe restaurants in Republic City, searching for the most authentic sea prunes!

Kya maybe likes the water tribe fashions the most because it helps her connect with her namesake BUT Kya also has a playful sense of humour - not unlike Monk Gyatso - Aang sees how much she loved moon pies and teaches her to throw them with waterbending.

We know Tenzin was a calm, quiet, and possibly shy child. Maybe he loved to hole himself away learning crafts. Give me Tenzin learning to tattoo, Tenzin learning to carve (and carving his first glider - it crashes of course), but also Tenzin learning to carve water tribe adornments and necklaces. Katara tries at first but when she gets busy Sokka comes in and teaches Tenzin to break all the carving rules Katara has laid down (”it doesn’t need to be perfect my little pupil - let the creativity flow!”)

Tenzin may not be able to waterbend but that doesn’t mean he can’t learn other means of healing. As the littlest he spent a lot of time watching Katara work - she teaches him to tie splints, dress wounds, and yes deliver babies.

If you made it here I love you so much for reading. I love sharing my thoughts so HIGH FIVE YOU MADE IT, ur now my friend - the friendship is non-refundable sorry 😌😌

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reversecreek · 3 years

Text

pops hip n winks at the dash. haaaaiiii. me again. i’ve honestly missed playing lana fr a while she’s one of. my most treasured muses bc she’s jst a silly n vivacious ball of sunshine or alternatively? a train wreck depending on which way u turn her in the light..... i actually hv two playlists made fr her n one is rly old bt it’s more like. songs that Remind me of her which u can find here n then here is more like. stuff u’ll most often catch her blasting on her record player as she dances around in her underwear w the curtains open. OH and here is her pinterest 🍓⚡

* kristine froseth, cis female + she/her | you know lana jameson, right? they’re twenty-three, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, a few hours? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to play that funky music by wild cherry like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole cherry red gym socks worn with nothing else, doodling penises in the condensation of a stranger’s car window, a bumper sticker on the back of a convertible cadillac that says ‘scrappy doo is a filthy slut’ thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is june 2nd, so they’re a gemini, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt, she/her )

HISTORY:

lana grew up in a big house in albany, NY. i picture it w dark oak floors n lots of light furniture. albums framed on walls. mayb some rolling stone covers too frm way bk when of the bands her dad’s label signed. kind of like… a rock star palace w no evidence of children at all. i think i described it best in one of lana’s self paras once when i said the garden ws “as big as it was unloved”

lana’s mum victoria (vic) ws a music journalist w a pretty fruitful career ahead of her when she met lana’s dad richard (rich). his record label ws jst starting out, founded on the coattails of his wealthy best friend’s (jensen peters) investment w his other best friend (who he jst calls knoxville). it rocketed to success when they signed poppy injects, a rock band w an electric stage presence, n vic ws drawn to the glitz n glamour of a man tht ws at the helm of his aspiring industry. their love ws very impulsive, all or nothing right frm the start, n it ws almost like she ws mre in love w his accomplishments n what he represented than him.

(DRUGS TW) anyway so jameson records repped a few rock bands bk in the eighties, altho poppy injects r who they’re mostly known fr, namely bc of hw brightly they crashed n burned. they were a big chart success bt the lead singer hd quite an intense struggle w heroin (wsnt rly subtle abt it either while he ws in the public eye as u cn probably imagine frm such an on-the-nose band name) n he ws always in n out of the papers. it eventually brought down his career n it ws a big publicity nightmare

lana pretty much… grew up around figures like this throughout childhood. real characters who wld kind of… b extremely volatile n destructive abt their troubles. the jameson house was an open one as welcoming clients went n a lot of parties took place there. a lot of the time musicians wld b snorting lines in the kitchen when she wnted to grab a bowl of cereal fr breakfast n it was just. a very strange environment fr a child to grow up in. more zoo than home. more shaken snow globe than resting place. (END OF TW)

(ABORTION REFERENCE) her parents always kind of jst… didn’t like her much. her older brother caleb ws unplanned bt they sort of welcomed the surprise more bt… quickly realised they weren’t cut out fr parenthood n then when lana came as another surprise 3 yrs later they didn’t even try to hide their resentment abt the situation. her mum ws actually booked in to have an abortion bt cldnt go through with it at the last minute. once when lana ws a kid she asked her why she’s so cold towards her she jst turned her head frm her dresser, looked at her, told her abt this n said “idk why i didn’t go”. lana didn’t kno wht to say to tht so she jst left her room n closed the door (END OF REFERENCE)

(DISSOCIATION TW) bc of the intensity of her parents ignoring her growing up lana adopted this sense of like…. she didn’t rly kno what it ws bt it ws a delusion of sorts where she thought she ws a ghost bc she gt this strange outside feeling. she’d jst sort of… drift around the halls w no-one acknowledging her n sometimes she ws jst convinced she wsnt actually there or they cldnt see her n she ws jst haunting the house frm a previous family. (END OF TW) her imagination festered an explanation out of smthn she didn’t understand essentially. lana used her imagination to do this a lot growing up. it ws kind of like the band aid she slapped over everything. after all she wasn’t alone if she was sword fighting imaginary pirates dwn the hallway with a poker from the fireplace.

the one saving grace tho tht sort of?? gt her thru this n made her feel Seen ws caleb. lana quite genuinely hs always thought the sun shines out of her older brothers ass like she jst thinks. he’s the best person in the entire world. wld b rly bewildered if anyone questioned tht. he wld always look out for her n cut the crusts off her sandwiches (he’d cook fr them most of the time bc their parents were too busy/didn’t care to) n sometimes wld even sleep at the bottom of her bed curled up like a guard dog. it ws always lana n caleb n his best friend tommy against the world in tht house (tommy lived next door bt was always over bc he had very strict parents tht he found suffocating)

(ARMY MENTION) SO when tommy announced tht he’d signed up to the army (bc of pressures from tommy’s military dad to fulfil some kind of stupid “legacy” tommy didn’t even care abt) n caleb said he was going with him lana ws understandably…….. completely blindsided. she ws rly upset tht they were leaving n was kind of like “wtf why are u doing this like what do u even think this is gna solve” etc n begged caleb not to leave her there on her own n jst to not sign up in general bc tommy had to bt he didn’t listen.

ERM i won’t go into it but it didn’t turn out well as u can probably imagine bc the army is a terrible industry n caleb had to return home without tommy. he wasn’t the same after that. (END OF MENTION)

what’d been a rly close relationship before where he ws basically like a surrogate father figure to lana was Not there any more. he ws rly withdrawn n always pushing her away n snapping at her for the sake of getting her to leave him alone. on top of this lana had a lot of shit go down while he was away n rly just shouldn’t have been a kid alone in tht house. regardless lana thought if she kept grinning as wide as she cld she’d convince caleb to join in too. maybe if she seemed fine n happy he’d take the lead. maybe she’d believe it too n start to feel it n everything could go bk to how it was before her world became so different. lana liked the way the sky flipped when she tipped her head back on the swings bt this was different. everything was upside down bt this didn’t make her belly feel like she’d swallowed a butterfly and it wasn’t funny bt still, she kept laughing. always desperate to find something to laugh at n if she couldn’t find it she invented it. as long as ur laughing the world can’t b that bad.

she ws always well liked in school bc she jst tended to treat everyone like they were bffs no matter who like u cld have literally bumped shoulders w her once in the corridor n she’d be like OMG HAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII let’s kiss<3 n like she ws a huge notorious flirt w any n all as well as incredibly impulsive n jst. wild honestly to put it simply too bt things like. changed a bit frm 16 onwards. (HYPERSEXUALITY & IMPLIED TRAUMA TW) she jst became far more reckless honestly n like....... jst didn’t rly seem to care after a certain point abt herself too much.... got herself in a bunch of bad situations.......... kind of jst flung herself to the wolves numerous times without any caution abt the way they’d bite. formed a lot of self destructive habits one of which ws cruising craigslist personals fr random hook-ups n like. she literally cld have wound up in a ditch somewhere honestly it’s a shock she hasn’t. despite various dips n inclines in her journey navigating this side of her it’s very much still present in her life to this day n she struggles to kno hw to control herself at points. sometimes she feels like a melting candle tht needs moulding by thumbs until it can form a person again. sometimes she’s only sure she’s real when she’s being touched. (END OF TW)

ANYWAY. laughs nervously. went to college to study dance bc she’s always loved dance in general bt specifically ballet (despite definitely not hving the discipline for it) n honestly this was both good n bad fr her. had a whole string of terrible heartbreaking relationships bc she tends to fall into those hard n fast n they were w a lot of bad people fr like 98% of the time. she kind of learned more abt what love is during her time there tho which is a gd thing bt she still isn’t very good at knowing hw to believe she deserves it so it’s a process. she hd fun tho. threw 498572598475 outrageous n elaborately themed parties. ws friends w pretty much everyone on campus.

despite a strained relationship w her brother n having to go home to visit n check on him whenever he got rly bad it ws the first time it actually felt like she’d found a home in a lot of rly loving n genuine friendships n lana will never forget hw much that experience meant to her even if she definitely struggled there too. college felt like a place she belonged n then suddenly she couldn’t belong there any more n there was a big sense of floundering in that. like where do u go now when u’ve never known home elsewhere? how do u happily go out into the world if it means leaving ur world behind?

she applied to a dance company in LA n fell in w a pretentious art scene there full of wannabe andy warhols n the like. became a makeshift edie sedgwick to some guy w dyed white hair n the idea his every concept was revolutionary when rly he jst shot her dancing barely clothed splashing around in a random fountain in his friend’s mansion on an ancient film camera. she’d spend her days floating around on lilo’s and prancing in feather boas and racing with glitter leftover frm last night in her leotard w smudges of faint red lipstick to barely make her job on time. always a sexy train wreck bt this time? make it hollywood.

(IMPLIED ALCOHOLISM TW) i won’t lie to u lana hs always partied way too hard bt then partying way too hard turned into slurping merlot thru a crazy straw shaped like a flamingo at 4 in the afternoon wearing penis novelty sunglasses n it wasn’t quite so much of a party when u were doing it on ur own. this rly snowballed into place in college bt carried on n wound up getting her fired from the dance company bc she turned up to rehearsals drunk one too many times n they didn’t allow fr sloppiness like tht. it was a “professional operation” that didn’t “accept that kind of behaviour” bt lana was jst like ummmmmmmmm that’s totally dramatic btw way to spank me in the town square like i’m gale w a raw ass n back in the hunger games bt ok sure i’m out ig. BOOP! (literally booped the director on the nose before leaving) (END OF TW)

honestly hd no idea what to do w herself after her job fell thru in LA n was pretty embarrassed actually upon sobering up the nxt day. cldn’t bring herself to tell her friends for a hot minute bc she felt like a failure or smthn n she was meant to be living this glamorous life out there being the classic wild n silly n fun Lana Jameson. cldn’t figure out how to repackage it into a funny story tht wouldn’t worry ppl. eventually wound up jst caving n telling her closest besties (shoutout freya n rosa) bc she ws hving a weird time dating losers n randomly living in LA even tho she didn’t kno why she was there any more after losing the job n they were jst like. fk it then. jst come here. we’re in irving. and so? mizz jameson packed her bags....

PERSONALITY:

always smells vaguely of wild cherries or strawberry starburst or jst the candy aisle in general. if she ws a vinyl record she’d b this one n she’d only play good vibrations by the beach boys, dancing on my own by robyn, play that funky music by wild cherry, femme fatale by the velvet underground n (i can’t get no) satisfaction by the rolling stones

the jameson family r pretty well off n bc of her relation to such a big music industry figure she’s hung out w a fair few relatively high rep ppl thru her teens. mostly kids of celebrities n stuff like tht. she amassed a bit of an instagram following #nepotism bt also fr her style (v penny lane-esque in some aspects. lots of fur cuff trimmed jackets bt then also jst…. a wild combination of everything honestly. pastel faux fur coats, seventies style platforms, bright red cowboy boots, pink fishnet tights, holographic stickers of planets on her cheek n glitter used like highlight, 90% of the time a red lip) n bc she’s not gna make ur eyes bleed to look at or anything let’s b real

growing up lana was always a huge social butterfly. knew everyone n everyone knew her. she ws one of those girls tht ws kind of impossible to ignore or forget. very animated, always made u feel like u were the centre of the universe whenever she spoke to u, always made it feel like u were best friends even if ud only spoken to her once.

deliberately puts on tht kind of Magnetic Alluring Act tht femme fatales wear in movies w most ppl. kind of…. is always playing A Role of the person tht she wants to b seen as. hates being sad n always wnts to be happy / making ppl happy. chameleons to situations. feels like she’s performed as the vivacious n fun loving Lana Jameson fr so long tht she doesn’t rly kno who she is beneath tht bt she isn’t too keen to find out. sometimes gets glimpses n feels the urge to close her eyes.

she’s always been rly spontaneous n adventurous. always doing something weird n wild every weekend. she has ten thousand ridiculously absurd n chaotic stories. she’s like oh ya this one time this guy made me ride him with a daddy saddle like i was woody and he was bullseye. he literally made me call him bullseye. or she’s like. oh ya once i had to run barefoot thru a cabbage patch bc this one farmer wanted to have a threeway w me n my friend tht we met off craigslist n every framed photo in his house was a pig dressed up in cosplay bt honestly they were kind of cute n he was sexy aside frm the murderous vibes n the fact he kept calling me babe which i’m pretty sure means he wanted to dress me up next bt like whatever honestly.... she tells jst the most batshit stuff n the person she’s telling it to is left blinking like. wtf.

uncontrollably flirty. insanely confident. cld make a joke out a paper bag n will try. she tends to laugh when she feels like crying n has a smile brighter than a ray of texas sunshine.

likes to roller skate n hs a red pair she’ll glide around in at night lit up by amber street lamps breath sticky w the taste of wine n lollipops probably heading to a random hookups. who needs ubers?

always dapples her fingers thru the breeze when she’s driving in a car w the window down. honestly likes dangling her whole body halfway out too. she almost always has some sort of sweet on her, whether it’s sour haribo cherries or strawberry lollipops.

luvs bowie (ONLY aesthetically) n prince (wholeheartedly) n madonna (completely) n anyone tht’s a vintage style icon w little care fr what ppl think.

daisies n poppies r her fav flowers bc daisies r wild n overlooked n poppies r the first thing u look at in a green field. she’s had like 8472493874 ‘relationships’ n none of them hav lasted beyond a month / hav been terrible / hav seen her being treated badly / she’s cheated on them. honestly it’s like a burning train wreck but u can’t quite tear ur eyes away. often the heart of many sordid gossip scandals.

PLOTS:

TBA bc she’s only jst arrived in town i won’t lie to u all but i’m gna whip things up on here anyway n link in chat w updates at some point........ that said? lana is insatiable n it isn’t rly unlikely tht she cld’ve bumped into ur muse in a grocery store aisle n somehow a wild spontaneous adventure spawned frm that alone.......... if u have any immediate ideas we can discuss 😋

#irvingintro #drugs tw #dissociation tw #hypersexuality tw #trauma tw #alcoholism tw #army mention tw #abortion mention tw #i won't lie to u all i like cleaned up this intro bt it's mostly old writing so forgive n overlook any rusty parts.......#it was a bit sickening hving to reread it bt. it does the job.

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yyxgin · 3 years

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no bar!! never fret about replying late. i know what it’s like to not want to talk to anyone. honestly. i won’t call it (my experience) a depressive episode bc one of my friends used to brush off me when i was saying things like i’m depressed and say ‘sad’ instead. like if i were to say ‘that made me/i am depressed’ she’d say something like ‘oh god same! like if it’s making you sad,, don’t do it.’ which is a v poor example of what she did but i never called it depressed after that bc she pissed me off n was disregarding of my feelings (even though she’s incredibly anxious herself) bc i didn’t get it officially diagnosed. idk if you’ve ever read about birth control pills but i always read on tumblr people calling them literal depression pills and i ignored it, thinking either 1) people were being dramatic / were over-dramatising it or 2) it wouldn’t happen to me anyway. it fucking happened and they were not being dramatic. i was never happy n always working on minimal sleep n making self depreciating jokes all the time bc it was the only way i could cope with my thoughts n constant mood swings. so what i’m trying to say is,, i know how it feels. if that’s any consolation. it’s not me trying to be ‘oh me too!’ or ‘mine was worse than you’ it’s just me being understanding n telling you it’s okay. also lemme at your friends!! i’ll stomp them out n get the barman to run them over for you!! they’re so mean to forget you!! i find that deciding i want to do something specific n then asking the appropriate people if they want to do saïd thing/place works for me. it can be a simple ‘we should do this, when are you free?’ helps. making it known that you want to do things helps. or aggressively remind them that it’s nice to be asked bc it means they thought of you even if you couldn’t go n tried to include you. or we can revisit me stomping them out w my beloved barman,,, whatever works best for you my dear <3

admittedly me and one of the girls were discussing that we are going to miss our manager. even though literally everyone moaned about her (i feel like it’s impossible to avoid in literally any job/situation) she did have her moments and she did a lot for the staff like after work-drinks, asking the chefs if we could order off of the customer menu instead of the staff menu or whatever they cook in bulk for everyone to take home in the evening. apparently she did this a lot more than the previous manager. she has a good heart but sometimes she ignored some of the girls when we ask for days off or our availability for the week which was very annoying of her. it could’ve been a lot worse, i suppose, but overall she wasn’t terrible.

thé lady who lives in my town and drops me given the chance, told me the other night that she used to be the duty manager. i asked her why she stopped and she explained that when they furloughed everyone they asked her to come back on like half pay or something? idk i just remember it being explained as they wanted her to come back sooner and take away her furlough so she said no and got demoted. but somehow she still gets some of the furlough? idk i have been taught that asking how much or discussing specifics of paychecks kind of thing is rude, growing up. she has been telling me they keep asking her to come back (now they’re asking her to be a supervisor since she declined the manager role) and she keeps saying no. i love her and want the best for her so i won’t say anything to anyone about the conversations me and her have had (i mean, apart from maybe my mum if i can remember, and you bc, let’s be real, you don’t know me and idk you) and she says they’re just difficult to work with as a management team. she even said our area manager isn’t impressed with our current assistant manager (who is currently the only person on an houred contract since our manager left) which shocked me since i personally think he is quite good considering he has a good relationship with the staff and kitchen (he’s thai so he can communicate with the kitchen better than most of the wait staff (some wait staff are thai but mostly not)) i think she doesn’t want to be the eldest person in management or she doesn’t want the age gap to be so big since she has a kid she can lecture at home, she doesn’t need to be looking after people at work, y’know?

also today, me and one of the girls were upstairs (two floors of the restaurant!) and it’s nearing 11pm and her brother (who also works there) comes up and asks us when we’re finishing (mostly her lol) but we had two tables just sitting talking amongst themselves so she just said idk. he was saying he wanted to go bc he’s tired etc n he’s driving n she was like it’s fine go home i’ll call an uber or something n he was refusing to leave her behind. (i feel like i brushed over the two tables sitting there but it must be noted they’re the only tables left in the entire restaurant and we were the only two wait staff still there, apart from her brother but he changed and was waiting downstairs). anyway, she was sweeping (i was cleaning the booth/sofa thingy chairs as it was a mundane task we could do to pass time and while she was sweeping by one of the tables thé boyfriend was whispering to his girlfriend saying ‘should we go?’ and the girlfriend said ‘why should i care?’ and the girl came over to tell me v quietly and i got so upset for her. bc she is literally the sweetest person on the earth and the only reason i didn’t go to ask the manager to see if i could go home with the lady who offers to take me (ex-duty manager lady!) was so she wasn’t alone up there. if i had been the one sweeping near that table i would’ve snapped so fucking hard at them. i mean, we’re 18 and have lives and sleep schedules, and we’re working until 11pm on a thursday before we even get home?? like i wouldn’t have minded staying if they were reasonable tables but after the gf said that i was like ‘shall i go get our stuff from the staff room?’ so i could split as fast as possible. in the end the temporary acting manager came up and told us we could finish and she kicked the tables out ten minutes later. i told her what the table saïd and she thought that was mean and unnecessary too. i was also worried about my sleep tonight since i have my first vaccine tomorrow morning. that’s why i was more pressed about what time i left work today. oh well.

im sorry for talking so much about work! sometimes i don’t have someone to talk to about it (at home) bc of my weird hours and sometimes i don’t like re-explaining things to my mum if she doesn’t get it the first seven times. sometimes it’s just a little too draining as she doesn’t understand since she’s a lifer at her job. it’s easier to explain to my dad but then i get a whole lecture on something that i ultimately have no control over n id rather just bitch w the girls at work but the problem is WE’RE AT WORK!!!

also i booked for my first tattoo!! i’m excited. it’s for next week,, which was super quick considering i was expecting to have to wait soooo much longer. i’ve been telling people about it and that it’s happening but i haven’t had the pleasure of telling people exactly where i got the idea from. bar, my dear, you know wheein’s new album, redd? well, it comes with loads of things, including these stickers (one for each song) and the one from springtime was just so perfect and when i saw it my first thought was, this would be a perfect tattoo. and so i am having it tattooed on my body. a subtle nod to kpop whilst also having something meaningful on my body. i also have just decided i want a small, minimalistic (or one-line art) rose on my sternum, kind of in the valley of my breasts, bc my nan was a rose. i like having her close to me. i recently got her necklace fixed which has left me feeling so incomplete after it broke in august last year. it’s been almost ten years and i think i’m long overdue something to remind me of her. i fiddle with my necklace when i’m nervous which is why i love it so much but incase it breaks again (i pray it doesn’t but i have a long life ahead of me) i would like her close still.

gosh there’s never enough space in my head to remember what i want to tell you so i’ll stop here for now since i should sleep to be able to wake up in time for my first jab. i’m scared but it’s whatever i’ll do it i suppose,, eeek 😨

ilyl ~ 🌻

thank you so much for opening up to me about this, it means a lot to me :( i am so sorry you had to go through this and honestly,, i really resonate with you. i feel like when i talk about my emotions and my sadness (dont know if its okay to call it depression either but yea), my friend either always either makes me feel like my emotions arent valid or she tells me she doesnt know how to help, which is frankly, why i dont talk about my emotions to people irl anymore. i dont open up and it takes me a long long time to do so if i ever do, because i tend to feel insecure/not safe :D so really, thank you for telling me and i hope you are doing better. your emotions are valid and i am always here for you

HAHAHA i mean i dont have many friends so theres not many to stomp on:( but i mean,, i get passive aggressive when i feel forgotten/left out so you best believe i told my friend how im feeling, but like uhhh it didnt do much. i spent the whole weekend at work and i was free on friday but my friend decided to ditch me and yeah. i havent been out in like two weeks now and i mean i am an introvert so i dont mind that much but even i want to socialise sometimes

aah i mean every manager has their flaws, no one’s perfect. my manager keeps calling me to go to work even though i was literally there for 11 hours on saturday AND sunday which means i worked for 20 hours in two days. and i work 20 hours a week at max. and i already worked some hours before the weekend so i think i have like 30 hours now and she keeps calling??? dude i need a break too,,i am so exhausted and tired of this shit :dd

oh i totally get what the lady that drops you off sometimes told you. i would feel a little iffy if i heard it too, but like,,,judge by your own experiences!! if you feel like something is off, you can always leave,, so i wouldn’t be so stressed about it.

why are people so rude ??? dude,,you should care, because we are all human. everyone has their needs and their lives and i bet he wouldnt like it if he was the one in your place. why should you stay there longer just because he didnt want to leave?? that was so unnecessary. people are weird beings and i learnt that after working with them this weekend,,,like i litereally got screamed at because i couldnt accept cash in different currency. like,,what tf do you want me to do?? i dont have every single currency with me so i could give u the change ?? tf ??

ALSO ITS OKAY TALK ABOUT YOUR WORK HOWEVER MUCH YOU WANT !!!! i also feel like i dont have anyone to talk to about work bc my parents dont listen to me as much as they used to these days and my friend unsurprisingly just doesnt care bc she doesnt work,, and i dont wanna talk to my internet friends abt it as much bc i feel annoying so i am glad us two can talk about these things together !!!!

YOUR FIRST TATTOOOO WHOAAAH thats so cool. i love tattoos hihi dfkja idk if u already had the appointment but tell me how it went after !! i wasnt able to find the sticker on the internet but im sure it looks hella pretty. also i love how it reminds you both of kpop and your grandma, its wonderful <3 i really want to get a tattoo one day,, and i also want something meaningful (not that i am hating on people that tattoo themselves just for fun and have no meaning behind their tattoos i just have commitment issues so i want something long lasting). alSO my crush (yes i have a crush now ew) has a tattoo and it looks like satan lowkey,,but apparently its a japanese something (i forgot the word oopsies) and it means jealousy, bad past and wisdom ?? i was like BOY IF U DONT??? fjdkla he has blue hair btw i am very much whipped but he also doesnt know me and i am older than him so this is embarrassing

ALSO I HOPE YOURE FEELING WELL AFTER GETTING THE VACCINE !!!

ily <333

#💌ask #🌻 anon

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lemonietrinket · 4 years

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i have a friend he is called Leg i was feeling down and he wanted to cheer me up and so, bexo was born

i sent him a photo of exo and he got to work with ‘guessing’ what they’re like it took off, with some.... surprisingly deep lore (with some fanfiction tones too which is... really weird.... he is the equivalent of a local ..?), and i think its hilarious so im going to make you read it all too

he knows literally nothing, especially about exo, and so he is completely making these ‘guesses’ insert: ‘characters’ from the photo alone (hence this is all done in lighthearted tone with no offence intended)

alas here is the deep lore that is the first part (?) of BootLeg (?)

~~~

BEXO

Lineup (from left to right): Paul, Ryan, Jayson, Daniel, Terrance, Brayden, Hamish, Lazarus/Gunther

Paul (Chanyeol)

hates that hes called paul

always trying to act like hes not a paul

if he were a spice he would be flour

summary comment: “it says ‘dude’ on his jacket like c’mon. hes trying so hard to not be a paul and its just not working out for him, lets me honest. but yeah idk what else to say about paul really. because he is fairly plain deep down”

Ryan (Kyungsoo)

hes the only one that thinks hes cool

everyone else just keeps him around to laugh at how short he is

only ever finds out about 50% of the parties

summary comment: “hes the guy where like everyone will be just chilling out and then he’ll like throw something in a bin from across the room and go mad about it. and people are kind of sick of it but not enough to tell him to stop”

Jayson (Kai)

"this fucker is the kid whose parents bought him a ps4 and let him play 18s while everyone else was still on pokemon and wii sports”

never stopped flexing on everyone in school

“nobody liked him but some people decided to hang out with him for the clout and its still true”

“like the ringleader but people really just like the vibes he gives them”

summary comment: “im trying to think of a name but all i know for sure is that its not spelled the normal way” later “JAYSON”

Daniel (Suho)

his mum always said he was cool so he just went with it

his dad is a painter “idk why thats relevant but its just a fact”

wanted to be a baker

pleasant if you catch him by himself but more cold and a dick when with “the crew”

bffs with paul since childhood and kept pushing each other until they were in way over their heads

in an alternate au they would be florists

and leg says he knows nothing of fanfiction

daniel is deep with the kpop now, and despite his true nature, manages to keep up appearances much better than say paul

summary comment: “sometimes they sneak away for a picnic”

Terrance (Baekhyun)

always was the smartest but few actually knew because hes really quiet

despite seating plans in school he was somehow always in the back corner

“someone is pretty sure they saw him in a field surrounded by miscellaneous vegetables and dead rats once but it seems to strange for even them to believe”

nobody in the group knows his last name and no one is going to ask

they pretend theyre not scared of him but tbh he can probably smell fear

can also teleport probably so theres no point running. root vegetables only slow him down.

summary content: “all i know is that if i wasn’t fated to die at the paws of your cat then terrance would get me for sure”

Brayden (Xiumin)

has a side gig as a drag queen

“he loves it, but kpop makes him more money. but that money lets him improve his drag. so he sees it as a really good cycle”

he was the one that chose the “black & white checkerboard thing going on [in the photo]”

Paul went with it because he thought it would make him cool

nobody knows why terrance went along with it and it will remain a mystery

“brayden actually auditioned for a girl group while in drag

and was accepted

...but then he realised the time commitment and so bailed after their debut

people have speculated about That MV™ but nothing has been confirmed”

summary comment: “besides he does like the kpop too. he just honestly loves being worshipped”

Hamish (Chen)

was going to be a builder because his dad is in construction

he often worked with daniels dad weirdly

“small world”

the two dont know it yet but they will find out and it will be a “sweet bonding moment”

he is mostly bald

“everyone really likes him so they keep around and go through the trouble of using photoshop and cgi hair in mvs”

they once did an anonymous vote for who their favourite person in the group was

paul & daniel voted for each other

i cant believe hes actually got a ship going in a fake ‘parody’ kpop group i cant

ryan voted for jayson because he thought everyone else would

and everyone else voted for hamish

well there was one vote that was blank everyone knows whose it was but like... you think they were going to bring it up?

hamish voted for paul bc he felt bad for him

the main problem is the fact hes allergic to wigs

this means that he has been “sick” for every live show ever, bar once

as in his first one

the one where he realised hes allergic to wigs

didnt go well

summary comment: “his hair looks photoshopped which means it obviously is”

Lazarus/Gunther (Sehun)

he called himself lazarus bc he thought it sounded cool

nobody knows his real name—meaning: nobody as told him that everyone knows his real name

he joined bexo late and really wants to be considered just like everyone else

kind of the errand boy, nobody has made a coffee since he joined the group

he is genuinely cooler than some of the others but no one takes him seriously

partly because of ‘gunther’

also because no one has seen him in a tshirt that doesnt say lazarus on it

super confident, not at all justified

summary comment: “the reason he is positioned like that [in the photo] is because hamish’s fly was undone and it got stuck when he tried to zip it up, so they covered it up with gunther. he was told to do it because it would make him look cool. so he didnt have a clue”

~~~

please spare my soul and lmk if leg is cancelled

(i realised too late that there was no lay :(( but tbh its probably better off that way lmao he doesnt have to suffer)

#exo #exo crack #getting locals to name exo members #dumb kpop #leg #bootleg #bexo #bootleg exo #exo meme #locals and kpop #friend naming kpop idols #friend naming exo #tw cussing #tw reference to dead animals #tw dark humour #parody kpop #kpop parody

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thechroniclesofwriting · 4 years

Text

TW: racism, bullying, brief mention of my own ED.

A couple of days ago, I was thinking how I originally got involved in the BLM movement. I remembered this story, which was my turning point, and I wanted to share. I want to say that this is not me tooting my own horn or saying I did a great thing. I did a decent thing for family. More than anything else, this is about my insurmountable white ignorance before this happened to me.

tl;dr: Had an insight into the bias of the world that POC live in. It made me a better person. So POC, I am asking you to call me out. I’m going to work really hard on making myself better, and the burden of that is on me. But if you’ve got something to say to me, say it. You’re helping me evolve, you’re helping me to better support you. I want to be the best ally I can possibly be. It will not be taken with offence, it will be taken with thanks.

For context, I am the oldest child of all my cousins (there are eight of us), by about 6 years. One Christmas, I told one of my cousins, a girl (exactly) a decade younger than me, that I would be there for her, no matter what. I mean, they all knew that, but I really wanted to reiterate it to her. I think that every older cousin has one younger one that to them, that is their absolute baby. P was that for me. Sure, I love and adore and would happily care for (for free) all of my cousins (even the 5 y-o), but despite the age gap, we just...clicked. I knew P was having a hard time at school, and I shared my own stories of bullying and eating disorders and all sorts of other awful things. I wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. I never really expected her to take me up on it - she was beautiful (like, crazy stunning), sociable and clever. At that age, I was short and busty, had cystic acne, greasy hair, untreated endometriosis, glasses, braces, my hobby was reading and I was quick to react when provoked. Put simply, I was an unattractive nerd. But she was tall and lithe, clever and calm, blessed with perfect skin, teeth and eyesight (drat her). In my ignorance, I assumed that she’d be one of the pretty girls that succeeded in sociability, *as well as* academics. And oh fucking boy I was wrong.

P rang me about two months later from her mum’s phone. She‘d stolen it, and was hiding under the bed, in her bedroom. We chatted for a bit, and then, after a moments silence, she whispered down the phone that she was being bullied. Her voice was so scared, it was awful to even listen to. As I gently asked her to talk about it, I realised why she was scared. She wasn’t being bullied like I was (I was a nerd, and I went through puberty before all my friends - meaning boobs and extra weight). Her type of bullying was so, so much worse. Her bullies were picking on her smarts, sure, but their main target was her skin.

Her mother, my Dad’s sister, is a specific type of Irish white - we burn when we think about the sun.

But her dad is Indian. He’s one of the most generous, kind, and intelligent people I have ever met. But these kids had packages that down into one thing...his brown skin.

She was 8 years old.

The girls from her school were telling her to ‘go back to the streets where she belonged’. They were following her on her walk home after school, because they ‘couldn’t believe that she lived in a house’. They told her she was ugly and dirty because she was brown. But the worst part, was that she didn’t want to tell anyone because she was *ashamed* of her own damn skin and her own damn heritage. I was utterly heartbroken for her. I wanted to drive the 3 hours to her home just to hug her. I also wanted throw those tiny bitches out a window. I couldn’t, as I was pretty ill myself, but let me tell you, rage is a good motivator to get well. Incredibly, I was okay enough to drive to see her two weeks later.

When I eventually got there, I had a secondary quiet chat with her mum (I had called her after I had hung up with P, to give her a heads up). She had dealt with the whole situation. Personally I think she was much calmer than I ever could have been - I was seeing red. I think that she too was furious, but she’s always been good at keeping her emotions in check. The situation had been resolved with the school, and the girls were seriously reprimanded and given a weeks worth of curriculum on racism. But the whole thing stuck with me. I think it was because though we are so similar (she’s also a sarcastic asshole) my bullies had never said anything like this. No one had ever picked on my *colour* (lest I was sunburned). I realised that if I was a POC, my torment could’ve been so much worse, and that’s what my baby had to endure.

That was my wake up call. That was the day the concept of privilege hit me square in the face. The irony of the situation was, her parents are incredibly well off. More so than my own. Her dad is thrice a doctor (he graduated in India, had to retake his exams in both England, where he met my aunt, and again in Australia, where they live now) and is a highly sought after radiologist. But even that that still didn’t protect her. The day I heard her little voice break down the phone line, is the day I realised no POC was safe until we had systemic change.

Next year, they’re moving from their town, which is three hours away, to the town my family and I live in. I’m really excited. It’ll be nice to pick the girls up from school, to treat them to McDonalds on the way home, and to look after them when their parents are away. I’ve got a little fold out bed in my tiny apartment for one of them, and the other can sleep on the sofa bed. I’ll get to shower then with love because I’ll be *present*. But mostly I’m excited because, for the first time ever, our weekly check-in chats will be face to face. I’ll be able to hug her on the spot. I’ll be able to hold her if she cries. I’ll be able to congratulate her on her achievements, rather than woo-ing down the phone line. And yeah, I’ll also be close enough to throw any prospective little turds out the schools cloisters windows.

Actively wanting to learn about racial injustice, changed my life. I can’t imagine feeling like my skin colour was a target of hatred, even in Australia. It terrifies me that one day, my babies might go to America, but I know I can’t wrap them in bubble wrap.

So here’s my pledge. I know I don’t know your pain. I certainly don’t feel your pain. I am still an outsider looking in, and I always will be. But I want to help. I want to learn. Please push me, please correct me, please call me out. I think that I am very lucky in that this is personal for me but I am so very privileged that this comes without danger to my own being.

Today, P is 14, her sister is 11, and they’re both strong and clever and beautiful and wicked funny. They’re just at that age where I’m old and uncool, but that’s okay. I like being embarrassing. Even if they don’t know it, they’ve given me a gift. I’ve been given a tiny, horrible, painful insight into *every* mother and father and sister and brother and cousin and grandparent and spouse and friend and colleague who is scared for someone else in the US (and beyond) right now.

I want to be better. Help me be better. I don’t think that if I follow the usual politically correct limitations, I’m fine. I want to be more than fine. I want to be voting for women of colour and marching with the movement. I want to be more that a black tile on an Instagram page. I desperately don’t want to be the girl who assumes that bc my best friend, and cousins, are POC, I’m immune. I’m not. I want to be an ally, one who passes the mic, who steps aside, who says that ‘it’s not about me’.

So this is my rant and this is my promise. I promise I will learn. I promise I will take criticism. I promise that I will choose from POC businesses over cheaper options. I promise that next (Australian) election, I will vote for a person of colour. I promise I will protest and make signs and send politicians letters and sign petitions. I promise will actively search out new information to educate myself with. I promise I will fight past this trend, past a black tile on social media. I promise I will not walk away. Followers, please hold me accountable, always.

Having said all of this. I truly believe in voting with your wallet. So, if anyone knows any POC run organisations, businesses, stores, political movements, protests, artists, designers or anything else, I would be forever grateful if you could link me to them. I’m a weirdly organised person, and I’ve started Christmas shopping. This year my family is only doing Christmas presents that are made/created/run by POC. I know there’s a chance that we’ll all find one website and ordering from there, which is great, but I want to broaden my gift-giving horizons. If you’re a creator, I really really want to see your work. Thus far, I have one painting, by an indigenous Australian artist, for my mum.

#people of color #black lives matter #trigger warning #ally #rant #racism #racial bias #social justice #george floyd #breonnataylor #justice for breonna #riots #protests #no justice no peace

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takivvatanga · 4 years

Text

open home.

“To tell you the truth, I’ve driven past this place at least five times just this week. I think it’s absolutely gorgeous.” The blonde woman beams, shifts her weight from one foot to the other with barely contained excitement as she grasps for her husband’s hand, holding it tightly in hers.

Stella swallows the lump in her throat. She doesn’t know this woman from a bar of soap, but here, in this moment, her mannerisms remind her of her mother and it hurts.

“I’m glad to hear it”, Stella replies. “It’s… a good house. It deserves someone who will appreciate it.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s more than just good, it’s great! Isn’t it, David?”

The bespectacled man nods. His eyes are large and bright behind his dark-rimmed glasses.

“It’s pretty good”, he concedes.

“Oh, come on darling. It’s exactly what we talked about. What we thought we might want.”

“I guess.”

“Would it kill you to be just a little bit more enthusiastic?”

Stella can’t help but chuckle a little. They seem like a nice couple, bickering aside.

Mum and Dad wouldn’t mind them living here.

“So, first things first.” The blonde drops her voice to a faux-conspiratorial whisper. There’s a gleam of mischief in her green eyes. “Why is the owner even selling? I mean, this is a great location, and the house is nothing short of a dream. Why would anyone give up a place like this?”

Why would anyone, indeed.

“My parents passed away.”

Four words. Four words that do not even come close to conveying her grief, her sleepless nights, the agonising internal debate on what to bloody well do with the place. The decision, equally painful and liberating, to let go.

“Oh, you’re the owner. I am so very sorry, I thought you were the agent. Are they… coming, still? The agent, I mean.”

The man – David – frowns, visibly uncomfortable. “I am sorry”, he says. His gaze is fixed on some indeterminate point just behind Stella. “This kind of thing is really hard.”

Stella feels her eyes starting to burn. Sorry won’t bring them back. Sorry won’t make this easy, either. What he says is nothing new. She’s heard those phrases a million times before. The funerals – what tragedy, both of them gone within three months of each other – are still vivid in her mind. Stella stood alone, solemn, dressed in black, her body, no – her soul feeling impossibly heavy as the seemingly neverending string of mourners filed past her, handshake after clammy handshake, condolence after hollow condolence.

No, it’s not what he says. It’s how he says it. There’s something genuine in his voice, something heartfelt. Something authentic. Maybe, just maybe, Stella wouldn’t mind if he lived here.

“It’s okay”, she concedes, her hand rising up to fidget with the little silver blackbird pendant around her neck.

Are you okay with this, Mum? she asks inside her mind. Will you be angry with me for selling? I just can’t live here, Mum. It feels so empty. It used to be home, but without you and Dad it just isn’t right anymore. It feels like a skin waiting to be shed. I have to do this, Mum, and I hope you understand.

“I wanted to do this on my own. It’s important to me. Part of the process, I guess. I want to make sure that it’s a good match. For the house. I know this sounds odd, but – I grew up here. My parents put their heart and soul into this place, and I really would like to see it go to someone who can appreciate it for that. I don’t want this to be just another item on someone’s investment portfolio. It’s always been a home, and it’s important to me that it stays that way.” Stella brushes a stray curl off her face. Her hair is shot through with strands of grey. Salt and pepper. These people are younger than her, by quite a bit. She doesn’t usually feel old, but right now she does.

“It’s pretty straight forward, really.” She gestures for them to follow her through the house, their footsteps echo in the empty hallway. Stella never quite realised how spacious the house really is. In her mind, it’s small, cramped, filled to the brim with her mother’s things. They fill a storage unit, now. It was the sensible thing to do. Going through everything, deciding what to keep and what to sell or give away is a task of near epic proportions, and even though Stella is chipping away at it, bit by bit, there is still a lot to be done.

“Master bedroom to the right. Second bedroom to the left. Do you have children?”

“No.” The blonde woman’s reply is immediate, curt, her voice suddenly cold, defensive. She wants them, Stella thinks. She wants them, she will always want them, but she’ll never have them. She doesn’t know how she knows. She just does.

Stella nods in acknowledgement, leads onwards.

“Two more rooms upstairs. One has a balcony, as you’ve surely seen from outside. It was my father’s study. The other was set up as a darkroom. My mother did a lot of photography.”

“This is so spacious, I adore it. So much room. We could do so much with this, couldn’t we, David?”

“I guess.” ”You don’t like it, do you, darling?”

David once again looks uncomfortable. He runs his hand over one of the smooth, recently painted walls.

“It’s not that.”

“What is it then?”

It is Stella’s turn to be uncomfortable. Whatever is going on between these two, it has nothing to do with her and she’d prefer to keep it that way.

Thankfully, David only shakes his head, a small, defeated gesture. Stella doesn’t miss her chance.

“I’ll just take you through into the lounge. And the kitchen and dining area. Open plan, as you can see. Gets the sun all day around, too.”

“Does the fireplace… does it work?”

Stella nods.

“Of course it does.”

She remembers her mother, standing in the doorway, carrying the basket of wood against her hip, illuminated from the hall lights behind her, unintentionally and impossibly graceful.

She remembers the concentration on her father’s face as he strikes the match, the way his eyes light up with satisfaction when the fire catches perfectly on the first try.

“It works perfectly.”

“Perfect. Just perfect. And I love the french doors, too!”

”Yes, they open up onto the garden. The garden is… quite something.”

Her mother’s garden. Her pride and joy. A little bit strange, just like her. Soft. Good. Surprisingly complex. Stella has tried her best to keep up with it, haphazardly, out of duty rather than enjoyment. It’s gotten away on her. The peas have gone wild, the bougainvillea has overgrown the fence. The roses have survived, somehow. The clematis – the bloody clematis. How many hours has she spent trying to prune the damn thing back, trying to get it under control, sweat beading on her forehead, her hands in her mother’s gardening gloves?

“Oh, we’re not worried about the garden. It’s a waste of time, gardening. We’ll likely concrete most of it. You know, like a patio? With a nice tidy decorative lawn. I mean, who can be bothered actually maintaining a garden, nowadays?”

Stella’s face turns to stone.

She can’t allow this. She won’t allow this. This was her mother’s lifelong labour of love, and Stella cannot with a clean conscience let it be buried under concrete.

“I don’t think this is the right place for you.”

The blonde woman looks up at her, irritated. The man won’t meet her eye.

“I’m not going to sell to you.”

“But… we haven’t even made an offer.”

“And you won’t. Because I won’t sell.”

“And you just decided this now?”

“Leave it, Katie. There’s plenty of other places still on our list. It doesn’t have to be this one.”

“But I love this house.”

“No.” Stella’s voice is firm, sharp, cold.

“You don’t love it how it needs to be loved. How it deserves to be loved. How I want it to be loved.”

“It’s only a house.”

Stella lifts an eyebrow, crosses her arms over her chest.

“That… is exactly what I mean. Because it’s not just a house. It’s a home. And it deserves to be treated with respect. Honoured. I’m sure there’s plenty new builds that will suit you much better than this place. You know, with a nice concrete patio and a tidy little lawn. If you don’t mind, I think I would like you to leave now.”

Katie opens her mouth, closes it again. David puts his hand on her shoulder, shakes his head no. “I’m sorry about this –“ he starts.

Stella shakes her head.

“It’s fine.” ______

“I couldn’t do it, Mum. I couldn’t let that happen. I thought they were nice people, and maybe they are, but I don’t want them living here. Tearing up your garden. Your garden.”

Stella sits crosslegged on the bare floor in the lounge, in the exact spot where the couch used to be. The house is silent and dark and empty, but Stella doesn’t feel alone.

“Maybe I’m not ready for this, after all. Maybe I need more time. Maybe…” Stella sighs, closes her eyes.

Outside, in the garden, a little blackbird sings.

@starscorned pls accept this self-indulgent offering bc i been yelling about it for days now

#vignette: stella #just had this scene in my head all week idek #thinking about middle aged stella grieving her parents #and she just #she won't let herself grieve she's just in action mode #sort everything out organise everything #don't sell the house stella you're not ready to let go

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nikatyler · 5 years

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Siblings Interview Tag: Marie and Scarlett Rose

Like I said in this post, I was tagged twice - and therefore I want to do this tag twice. I know I asked for suggestions and I was asked to do either Regan and Felix or Caleb and Lilith Vatore. I was going to do Regan and Felix, since developing them would be more useful for their legacy than developing my nsb!Vatores, but then I thought wait a minute, if I want to do Scarlett’s BC, wouldn’t it be fun to develop her and her twinsister a little more? After all, I treated them like shit in the og legacy. So yeah, thank you guys for suggestions and I’m sorry I didn’t use them in the end. I will keep them in mind though, one day they’ll come in handy for sure.

1. Which one of you is the older sibling?

Scarlett: “You’re the older twin.”

Marie: “The wanted twin. You were quite a surprise.”

Scarlett: “I thought we were grown-ups, why are you rubbing it in my face again?”

2. What do you like about your sibling?

Marie: “I know you probably want me to go really deep, but I’m going to say her style. Like, I wouldn’t be able to pull it off myself, but it’s so cute on her. I love that.”

Scarlett: “Thank you! I like how honest you can be. If you don’t like something or someone, you just say it. I think that’s an important trait.”

Marie: “Definitely. Oh, you’re also really empathetic.”

Scarlett: “Unlike you.”

Marie: “Unlike me. Yeah, I don’t know what empathy is.”

3. What annoys you about your sibling?

Scarlett: ”You just said it. You can be pretty cold sometimes.”

Marie: “I know! I hate that about myself as well. Someone is crying in front of me and I don’t give a shit about why they’re crying, I’ll just stand there and pray they’ll stop soon because it hurts my ears. Which actually brings me to what annoys me about you.”

Scarlett: “Really?”

Marie: “Yeah, you cry about every little thing. Happy ocassion, sad one, doesn’t matter, you’ll have waterfalls coming down your cheeks.”

4. Describe your sibling(s) with three adjectives.

Scarlett: “Determined, sassy, kinda rude sometimes.”

Marie: “Soft, optimistic and caring, like I said already. She won’t leave you alone, she’ll just want to know you’re alright.”

5. What is your sibling’s/siblings’ biggest talent(s)?

Scarlett: “She was a mermaid in her past life. I’ve never understood how you can swim so fast.”

Marie: “It’s just practice.”

Scarlett: “First there’s talent, then you polish it with your practice and you’re amazing.”

Marie: “Thank you. You would’ve been a good goalkeeper.”

Scarlett: “Yeah, if I had kept doing football, I would. But then I injured my ankle and stopped.”

Marie: “I think your biggest talent now is...let me think...you take great pictures.”

Scarlett: “That’s why I’m glad I can take pictures for a living.”

6. What is your sibling(s) really bad at?

Scarlett: “Being nice to people.”

Marie: “Yeah. I don’t even know how to give a good compliment!”

Scarlett: “Okay, no, that’s a lie. You’ve already complimented me so many times in this interview!”

Marie: “I don’t think it’s in my blood to be nice. I took more after dad and he’s, well...I mean he’s nice, but he’s also not.”

Scarlett: “Yeah. Same with you, though you’re a little bit different. What am I bad at?”

Marie: “You’ve always been bad at remembering to give back the borrowed things. You know, pens, pencils...and you always forget to bring back the books from the library on time.”

Scarlett: “I know. Good thing auntie Rachel works there. She’s forgiven me quite a lot.”

7. Do you have nicknames for each other?

Marie: “We don’t.”

Scarlett: “What are you talking about?! We do!”

Marie: “But we didn’t come up with them.”

Scarlett: “Good point.”

Marie: “And we both hate them.”

Scarlett: “Scary Scar and Mini Sharon. Don’t ask our dad why he thought it would be fun to call me Scar.”

Marie: “Mine isn’t that bad. I mean, if mum didn’t dye her hair, we would really look alike, so -”

Scarlett: “Why didn’t he call me Mini Lynn then or something? Grandma’s haircolour somehow made it through genetics to me. Scary Scar is the worst nickname of all times.”

Marie: “I’m pretty sure uncle Caleb would beg to differ.”

8. What’s one thing you can do that your sibling(s) can’t?

Scarlett: “I’ve always been good at writing.”

Marie: “That’s right, you always got good grades on your writing homework, while me...I’m not creative, okay? Not to mention spelling is hard sometimes.”

Scarlett: “But you can swim and run faster than anyone in the family.”

Marie: “That’s right. I’m unstoppable!”

9. Did you get along when you were younger?

Marie: “Sometimes we didn’t talk for days.”

Scarlett: “True.”

Marie: “But most of the time, we were okay, I guess.”

10. What is your funniest childhood memory of your sibling?

Marie: “Oh god, this is embarrassing.”

Scarlett: “It is. If we’re thinking the same thing, it is.”

Marie: “But we were so little - wait, are you thinking the concert too?”

Scarlett: “The concert. We should tell the story.”

Marie: “Yeah, totally. So, it was dad’s birthday, he had a concert that night, and his bandmates thought it would be cute if they got us on stage so we could sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him in front of everyone.”

Scarlett: “We thought it would be nice too, even mum agreed, and so we got ready for our moment of fame. And as we walked on the stage, I realized how many people were staring at us.”

Marie: “And you started shaking and crying. I tried to calm you down, but it didn’t work, and before anyone could do anything else, I dragged you to the backstage again. I remember dad was so confused, like what the hell were we doing there?! But he wasn’t mad at all. We wished him a happy birthday later and never attempted to surprise him in the middle of his concert again.”

Scarlett: “That’s a lie. I don’t know who it was - Joe maybe? - I think he tried to convince us next year again, but mum was against it.”

11. Are you closer now or when you were younger?

Scarlett: “Definitely now.”

Marie: “When there’s a problem, we now solve it by talking, instead of putting it off for days. I think that’s the biggest difference.”

12. Did you compete with each other?

Marie: “Don’t all siblings compete from time to time?”

13. Which one of you is more likely to turn out like your mum or dad?

Marie: “Dad literally calls me Mini Sharon sometimes, so guess what.”

Scarlett: “You’re a good mix of both though! I feel like - I mean you can tell I’m their daughter, but it’s not as clear as with you.”

Marie: “You inherited all of dad’s talent. You can sing, you could write songs if you wanted to. I’m more like mum.”

Scarlett: “Meaning there’s not a sport you wouldn’t succeed in.”

Marie: “I wish. But yeah, sort of.”

14. Which one is most likely to have a big family?

Scarlett: “I’m single right now, so...what about you, Marie?”

Marie: “Mason and I are too young and stupid to have spawns of our own.”

Scarlett: “When I was little, I wanted a big family, but now that I’m older and I travel a lot, I think children can wait.”

Marie: “It’s not like mum and dad want to become grandparents, is it?”

Scarlett: “It’s likely that it is dad’s biggest nightmare.”

Marie: “It would ruin this illusion that he’s still young.”

Scarlett: “Yeah. No offense, dad.”

Marie: “Can we turn this into a ‘let’s roast our dad’ session? I strangely enjoy that.”

Scarlett: “Same! Again, no offense, dad.”

15. What is one thing about your sibling(s) that has changed as you’ve gotten older?

Scarlett: “She’s not as mean anymore. She used to pull my hair all the time just to tease me.”

Marie: “I can still do that if you miss it.”

Scarlett: “No! Stop it!”

16. Who’s better at maths?

Marie: “Good question.”

Scarlett: “We were both a little above the average, I’d say.”

Marie: “Yeah. But I won that prize in the second grade, so I’m slightly better.”

17. Who is more pessimistic and who is more optimistic?

Scarlett: “I wouldn’t call you either of those things.”

Marie: “I’m trying to stay realistic. You on the other hand, you’re always like ‘oh yeah, this could be fun, let’s try it!’ and you never think about what could go wrong! How do you do that?”

Scarlett: “I wish I knew. It’s just who I am.”

18. Is there anything you don’t like doing together?

Marie: “I hate going shopping with you. I’m sorry but it just takes too long. It’s not necessary!”

Scarlett: “It is! I don’t want to buy something and then later at home realize that I actually don’t need it!”

19. Which one of you do you think will get married first?

Scarlett: “The one of us that is currently in a relationship.”

Marie: “Never say never. You might find the right person soon and you won’t want to wait.”

20. Lastly, how often do you argue?

Marie: “Not so often anymore.”

Scarlett: “It’s because we spend less time together and when we see each other, we actually miss each other and neither of us thinks about arguing.”

Marie: “Oh yeah, I’m so happy you travel so much and I don’t have to see you every single day.”

#ts3 #sims 3 #rose legacy extra #marie rose #scarlett rose #this was fun!#also yeah tyler's band is mentioned here #hopefully i'll get to talk about it more soon #i haven't even figured out their name yet #but oh well #it's fun even without the name

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dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt · 5 years

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Interesting story, you say? Let's hear it!

oof okay friendo buckle up bc it’s a bumpyass ride!!

So, the first thing y’all need to know is that poltergeists aren’t actually ghosts/spirits, per say. They’re energy, created by people, and they most often linger in houses. You know how some places feel really good when you step inside?? That’s good energy. It means not a lot of bad stuff has happened in that place, and the owners/the house are happy. Poltergeists are what happen when a lot of negative shit is going on. It might be because of hard times/a dysfunctional family/an abusive or unhealthy relationship/etc. If something unpleasant is going on, especially for an extended amount of time, a poltergeist will start to form. It’s inevitable. And it is important to note, if there is a person who is sensitive to energy/emotions/spirits, they will A) be able to add more to the poltergeist than anyone else (with or without knowing it), and B) will be more sensitive to the affects.

Now that all that’s out of the way:

our old house has one fuck of a poltergeist, mates.

My granddad (my Dad’s dad) is very sick, so we had to stop our happy caravan travels around Australia and buy a (very cheap and old) house in the middle of a literal desert to be closer to him (and did so immediately, of course.) It was a whiplash from having the time of our lives to being stuck in the little worse situation (for us.)

Everybody was worried about my granddad, we got little to no rain ever, there were a lot of thunder storms (which our dogs hate) and high winds, it got to 50 degrees Celsius in summer, we had animals to take care of (3 dogs, 3 chickens and 2 ducks) and in winter we didn’t even have to light the fire often, we were isolated from all our family and friends, and so poor from the sudden unexpected stop of our trip that sometimes we couldn’t afford food.

To put it simply: hard times.

Signs of a poltergeist:

A general uncomfortable/nervous/depressed feeling whenever you walk into the house, even if nothing is technically ‘wrong’

Things mysteriously vanishing/cupboard doors opening/strange noises/unsettled animals

Nightmares (especially ones that seem specifically targeted at things that you fear most or that upset you the most)

Odd red marks on your body (insect bites/scratches/dots)

The sensation of being watched

Drafts where there weren’t any drafts before

General feeling of not being alone/safe even when you are

Sudden mood swings (especially to extreme anger or extreme sadness)

More of a tendency to argue than usual

Catastrophic thoughts

Intrusive/bad thoughts

Depression/lethargy

Bad luck (everything that should go right always seems to go wrong)

Never seeming to be able to be truly happy in the house

you get the gist, bad shit

[note: if any of these things are happening, I strongly advise you go to your doctor and psychologist before anything else]

It started off small at first. About a year in to our stay in the house. I started feeling drafts on the back of my neck when I tried to sleep. As I said, we’d lived here for a year, so I kind of knew what to expect from the house by now. I knew which boards creaked/etc. But it was not one of the many windy days, and the draft wasn’t sporadic. It was like a rhythum. Almost like somebody was literally leaning over the bed and breathing on the back of my neck. It got so bad and so regular I could feel it moving my hairs (back when I had long hair) and tickling my face. But when I turned over to look, I couldn’t see anything. It didn’t happen all the time, even on the windy days. It was just some nights, which made it even weirder. (Note: I checked my window was shut and even slept with my door closed a few nights to see. It still happened.)

More small things started happening. Pens would go missing. The dogs were unsettled a lot. Any plants we tried to keep in the house died. We all started to feel edgy for no reason, started to have more arguments than we’ve ever had before. Everybody started to feel uneasy. It got to the point where I was scared to shut my eyes. Once, I had a run of almost a week of horrific nightmares, one after the other, every single night I had the same type of dream, where my dog was in agony and the only thing I could do to help her was to kill her with my bare hands. Again, I was terrified to go to sleep. I dreaded it. My Mum and Dad started to feel the exact same way.

My Mum started getting weird insect bite marks every single night. Two red dots, like a spider bite. She washed all the sheets, even tried sleeping in different rooms. Still woke up with them every morning, all over her body. My Dad and I took turns sharing the bed with her, but we never had the same bites. Though one morning I did wake up to my leg stinging, and it turned out there were two long, raw scratches down the inside of my thigh (there was nobody/nothing in the bed with me that could have done it, it was fresh, and I bite my fingernails to stubs out of anxiety so I couldn’t have made such a defined, clear scratch myself.) In our last few weeks in the house, my Dad actually got bitten by something while in bed, his finger bled and everything, but nothing was there, he stayed up for an hour on a work night just to find evidence of a mouse or something to please his skeptic mind, couldn’t find anything.

Worth noting is that my Mum and I both believe in the paranormal (and are sensitive to it), but my Dad doesn’t. And even he started mentioning the fact that he “felt like he was being watched” and that he was having a lot of bad dreams. And, here’s the kicker: he was having intrusive thoughts. Not ‘I’m gonna kill my family’ or anything like that, but things like “Dad’s not going to get better. I’m a failure. What’s the point? I’m worthless. Everybody hates me.” And you should all know, my Dad is THE most chipper, happiest, most positive peanut on the planet. He’s the only mentally healthy one in our little family and he NEVER thinks things like that. Not even when he is under intense stress. One night he even said he heard something in the room with him, clear as day, he was absolutely 100% sure one of the dogs had somehow gotten into the room, but when he looked, there was nothing there.

At that point, my Mum and I started to rethink the steep decline of our mental health. Because we’d always had problems, but not to this extent. We were having the exact same bad thoughts, but hadn’t really thought twice about it, since we’re The Mentally Unhealthy y’know. We started to rethink things: how instantly we’d feel better when we stepped out of the house, all the weird marks, all the weird dreams and drafts and noises and disappearing objects and everything else. I was also having a lot of headaches/stomach aches/nose bleeds at this point. It was honestly like you’d fall into a trance whenever you stepped into the house; it honest to god felt like you had the life slowly drained out of you. Even our goddamn neighbours noted it when they came over to visit.

The only way to get rid of a poltergeist is a crap-ton of sage and white light, and by starving it - getting rid of all the negative energy in your own lives and forcing yourself to be more positive. At this point though, we were already planning on moving out, so we didn’t really have time… and our situation wasn’t improving, either, so hard to be positive. Long story short, we toughed it out, and moved.

I should tell you, even though technically these last few months in this new house have probably been the most stressful and depressing few months we’ve ever had - we’ve all been sleeping like babies, we’ve had no more of the weird thoughts or depression, no more nightmares, no more weird drafts, all our animals have been perfectly content, and we’ve had no more red marks. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I think my Dad may not be quite so skeptical anymore, tbh.

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baphometsss · 5 years

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Idk how to really explain this coherently, but I feel like I need to try and put it into words

I haven’t spoken to or seen my dad for about 2 years now, give or take, and in the years leading up to me finally getting the nerve to go no contact, I didn’t really speak to him much. In that time I observed almost every emotional manipulation tactic in the book, and it made it harder to get distance from him. I guess I had three things going for me that many people don’t necessarily: I’m an adult, I live 300 miles away from him, and I’ve never been able to bond emotionally with him, which makes a huge difference because it means I don’t have a huge amount of conflict over not being in contact with him.

I guess what this process has taught me is that my dad is probably a sociopath. Getting distance from things, whether that’s physically or over time, has been a really important part in the healing process. I think it probably is for everyone, but it’s one of the most difficult things to achieve logistically. That said, I’ve been able to analyse things from a distance, and maybe make sense of some of the stuff I couldn’t wrap my head around in the past. And that means I’ve been able to put a name to it and process it more cohesively. This isn’t an easy process though – I’ve been numb to it for so long, I learned to dissociate at a young age, and this is something I continue to struggle with because it’s hard to look at things from a distance without dissociating entirely. It’s hard to hold pain in the front of my mind now, and experience it all at once. My self defence mechanism has been to fragment the pain so I can deal with it in smaller doses, but this isn’t as healthy as it might sound because it prolongs it and makes it harder to understand. The difference from a positive perspective is that I think going no contact has allowed the knowledge that I’m no longer in immediate danger from my father to actually penetrate my psyche, which has taken at least the last two years to achieve, and is still an ongoing process.

Anyway, my conclusion that he’s a sociopath has kind of come from realising a few things: that he didn’t just abuse me and my brothers out of rage, but he actually enjoyed it. Some of things he did were just too… elaborate, for lack of a better word, to come from rage. The stuff he did out of rage was actually so over the top it made it obvious it came from rage, so this other, more subtle stuff is easier to define as sadistic rather than angry. I don’t like going into detail about it and I’m pretty sure there’s stuff I’ve blocked out, but there’s just so much I remember seeming off to me as a kid, but because my dad is so good at lying and faking stuff and making you feel insane for questioning him, even if he hurt you, that you learned to stop trusting your own judgement.

There are also a lot of realisations that came from my own introspection. I’ve been wondering for a while, why it was so hard to bond emotionally with my dad, why I never really achieved it. To others it would seem obvious why, but there are some good memories of my dad – the problem is that I don’t buy them anymore, because I can’t remember anything good he ever did for us that his ego didn’t benefit from in some way. It was always to show off to other people. And then when it was just us, he was using us to satisfy his own ego in other ways… And he was such a pathological liar (he still is) that everything he said and did was very false anyway. His emotions always seemed melodramatic, showy, and to people who didn’t know him, genuine as well. But he would follow up those nice moments with put-downs, verbal abuse, rage, and sometimes sadistic abuse. So it just never made sense to me, and I was never able to fully engage with my dad emotionally in a way that allowed the development of a real bond. His emotions were just so shallow, for lack of a better word, and always presented in a way to serve his ego.

I just gave up a long time ago I guess, and I don’t remember ever even wanting a positive relationship with my dad, ever since I was little. My earliest feelings were all about just wanting him away from me, and when I couldn’t have the physical distance I needed, I closed off emotionally and learned how to placate him in a way that would protect me from abuse. I probably learned this when I was really young bc my parents split up when I was 3, but he started abusing me when I was a toddler. When I was 13 or 14 though, my dad actually choked me so hard I couldn’t breathe, and I thought I was going to die, and after that I knew I couldn’t spend time alone with him anymore. It was like I couldn’t placate him anymore, and with no one else around to look bad in front of (my brother was no longer visiting my dad on weekends anymore), he was more unhinged. I really thought I might die if I kept going to see him, and despite how real this fear was for me, I knew my mum wouldn’t take it seriously so I just made up an excuse to stop seeing him on the weekends. After that I only saw him when others were around, and that’s when all the emotional manipulation started. This shit was going on from when I was like 14 up until about 2 years ago, and it took me threatening an injunction to get him to stop trying to contact me. Yet he still tried it through family members. Now I just tell my brother not to relay information to me anymore. But he still tells my dad I’ll ‘come around’ and start talking to him again, which is annoying, but my brother has a lot of my dad’s traits and unfortunately that means he doesn’t listen to me either.

This turned into a fucking essay but I just wanted to get it out. I’m ruminating about this a lot, but I feel so trapped in these complicated feelings all the time, and not just about my dad, but my mum too and the effects of it all. It doesn’t make much sense, so I’m trying not to analyse everything so much, but just experience emotions as they come. I’m not having a good day today

#/#///#//#////#/////#abuse /#physical abuse /#emotional abuse /#child abuse /#tl;dr i need therapy

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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Written In The Stars CXXII (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I think the second half of this book is my best work yet. I know I always say this and that’s bc I’m always getting better -Danny

Words: 4,073

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Twenty: St. Mungo's.

At five in the morning the mood hadn't changed much in the room, Fred had fallen asleep on her shoulder, George and Ginny were across, staring intently at some point on the wall, Ron kept his face hidden behind his hands.

Harry and Sirius would look around the room with a lost air, unsure of what their part in this whole thing was. Mel and her mother had the same worried expression, none of them was known to be patient, but they didn't have a choice, they were all waiting...

Mel was worried about Mr Weasley, but she was also worried about her uncle back in the castle, about Umbridge and how she'd react to the missing Gryffindor students... She was also worried about Erick, all alone and having to deal with the death of the man he'd admired his whole life.

That was all Mel could feel at its fullest lately, no happiness was lasting, no bliss was ever-present. Mel was in a constant state of worry and distress, part of it because of her own trauma, and because all around her there was simply no safe place where to hold on to.

Mrs Weasley came rushing through the door. Mel stared at the woman, trying to find any hints of the possible news. She didn't have to wait for long, though.

"He's going to be all right," The woman said. "He's sleeping. We can all go and see him later. Bill's sitting with him now, he's going to take the morning off work."

Fred sat back beside her with heaviness, Mel pulled him closer with one arm and hugged him sideways, George and Ginny stood up and hugged their mother tightly. Ron finished his butterbeer, his usual colour slowly going back to his face.

"Breakfast!" said Sirius, standing up with newfound energy. "Where's that accursed house-elf? Kreacher! KREACHER! Oh, forget it, then. So it's breakfast for — let's see — nine... Bacon and eggs, I think, and some tea, and toast —"

Harry got up swiftly and walked over to the stove, clearly wanting to be of use in a room where he felt he had no place to take. He was wrong. Mrs Weasley made her way to the boy and took the plates out of his hands, encasing him in a fierce hug.

"I don't know what would have happened if it hadn't been for you, Harry. They might not have found Arthur for hours, and then it would have been too late, but thanks to you he's alive and Dumbledore's been able to think up a good cover story for Arthur being where he was, you've no idea what trouble he would have been in otherwise, look at poor Sturgis..."

Before Harry had a chance to reply, she let him go and turned to Sirius and Emily.

"Oh, I'm so grateful... They think he'll be there a little while and it would be wonderful to be nearer... Of course, that might mean we're here for Christmas..."

"The more the merrier!" Sirius smiled openly at the woman. Emily nodded in agreement.

Mel knew Sirius loathed having to spend all his time inside the house, even with the company of Emily it surely was annoying, having nothing to do given the circumstances of his life.

"Sirius," Harry moved closer to the man and whispered something Mel couldn't quite hear.

Sirius gave the boy a funny look and followed him to the pantry. Mel felt the irresistible need to follow them as well, but she figured, whatever Harry wanted to talk about in private was not her business, not anymore. That much she'd said to him a few hours ago.

Fred stirred in his place and finally moved away from her grip, hastily cleaning his face before anyone could notice, Mel pretended not to see for his benefit.

"I'm going to help my mum with breakfast," She told him. "I'm happy your dad's well."

Fred nodded, half-listening to the girl. When she moved over to get something out of a shelf, she listened to Harry's voice coming from the little room next to her.

"Sirius, I... I think I'm going mad... Back in Dumbledore's office, just before we took the Portkey... for a couple of seconds there I thought I was a snake, I felt like one — my scar really hurt when I was looking at Dumbledore — Sirius, I wanted to attack him —"

"It must have been the aftermath of the vision, that's all. You were still thinking of the dream or whatever it was and —"

"It wasn't that. It was like something rose up inside me, like there's a snake inside me —"

Dumbledore's words felt heavier than before, if Harry was truly affected by some kind of dark magic... it reminded her when Ginny started to act strange, when she'd been...

"Possessed," Mel whispered.

The door to the pantry opened abruptly and Sirius walked out of it causing her to jump, Mel directed herself to the stove, doing her best to not look back to where she knew Harry was currently standing.

She listened to Ginny's slow breathing unable to fall asleep. Her mind was replaying every moment of the last few months after the third task, trying to see if there were any hints that could point to a possession.

Mel thought hard about every time she had touched the boy, which to be fair, wasn't that many. Harry was acting up more often, that much was true, but who wouldn't after the hell he'd been through? Everyone had a limit, and Harry's got surpassed by a wide difference.

She didn't want to think about this, but she couldn't ignore it, not when it could lead to some of her friends getting hurt. It wasn't that she didn't trust Harry, but once again, Ginny was absolutely trustworthy and yet she'd petrified Hermione without meaning to. It could've ended worse if it weren't because Hermione got the answer on time.

When it finally was time for lunch Mel followed everyone downstairs with very little energy. No one but Harry seemed to notice, and that only because he too hadn't slept. Mel was once again torn between her duty and her personal interests. On one side, she felt she owed to her uncle to pay close attention, but that meant staying as close as possible, and that was something she didn't want to do.

Maybe it wasn't about being close physically, maybe she just had to get closer to his head. That one she could do without having to spend time with him. Legilimency and Occlumency.

That afternoon they were meant to visit Mr Weasley, the trip could be useful, she could stand next to Harry and try to perceive if his energy had changed. It was hard work, and she couldn't fully trust in the little trick, but right now that was all she had.

An hour later and an awkward train ride with Tonks and Moody, she found herself entering 'ST. Mungo's hospital for magical maladies and injuries' through the glass of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

The things Mel saw in the waiting room were certified to give her nightmares, or at least, very peculiar fever dreams. A group of wizards and witches were walking around the rows of people writing down things on clipboards and asking questions about their symptoms. Beside her, she heard Harry asked Ron if those were doctors.

"Doctors?" Ron asked in a tone of bewilderment. "Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they're Healers."

"Hey, they're not nutters!" Mel argued. "Muggles can't heal each other magically, they had to find their own solutions..."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron rolled her eyes. "Look, mum's there!"

"Over here!" Mrs Weasley called from the line where she was standing.

Behind the desk, she saw the portrait of Dilys, the witch that was also inside Dumbledore's office. Mel timidly waved at her, the witch did a quick count to make sure all the Weasleys were there along with Harry and Mel and she discretely returned Mel's greeting, disappearing from her portrait right after that.

"It's these — ouch — shoes my brother gave me — ow!" A man at the front of the line caught her attention. "— they're eating my — OUCH — feet — look at them, there must be some kind of — AARGH — jinx on them and I can't — AAAAARGH — get them off —"

"The shoes don't prevent you reading, do they?" said the witch at the front desk. "You want Spell Damage, fourth floor. Just like it says on the floor guide. Next!"

Two more people went before them, one worried father holding a little girl by the ankle, with fluffy white wings coming out of her back, and one man that was there looking for a wizard that apparently was confused to the point he was sure he was a teapot.

"Hello," Mrs Weasley said when they arrived at the front. "My husband, Arthur Weasley, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, could you tell us — ?"

"Arthur Weasley? Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward."

"Thank you. Come on, you lot."

They followed through the halls and Mel continued to look around curiously, she probably had a funny dreamy look on her face, because Ron nudged her side, smirking.

"What now, you're adding 'Healer' to the list of jobs you want when you grow up?"

Mel snorted.

"No! Didn't you see all the crazy things happening in the waiting room? I wouldn't get used to that! I'm afraid that even though I've spent years as a witch now, at heart I'm still a muggle."

"Give it time, Lady," George replied. "It's been like what, four years? You won't even remember your life without magic after a decade living like a witch."

For some reason, that made her feel slightly uncomfortable. She loved being a witch, but her muggle life wasn't something she wanted to forget, especially when it had been the best years of her friendship with Harry...

Why did her mind insist on bringing Harry to every discussion?

"We'll wait outside, Molly," Tonks said. "Arthur won't want too many visitors at once... It ought to be just the family first."

Harry and Mel immediately stepped back, but Mrs Weasley reached out to get Harry and the twins grabbed her by the arms, pulling her along.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Arthur wants to thank you..."

"And there's no way you're staying behind," Fred said playfully. "Dad would love to see her daughter-in-law..."

"If you keep saying that you'll end up believing it," Mel warned him.

"I bet my parents would rather have you as a daughter instead of this bad copy of me," George teased.

"Who are you calling a copy, you idiot?" Fred reached to hit his brother, but George hid behind her. "Everyone knows I'm more attractive than you!"

"You two stop fighting!" Mrs Weasley hissed. "This is a hospital room! Please act your age!"

The three of them stopped, trembling with contained laughter as they reached Mr Weasley's bed.

"Hello!" The man called happily. "Bill just left, Molly, had to get back to work, but he says he'll drop in on you later..."

"How are you, Arthur? You're still looking a bit peaky..."

"I feel absolutely fine, if they could only take the bandages off, I'd be fit to go home."

"Why can't they take them off, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, I start bleeding like mad every time they try," Mr Weasley reached for his wand, and with one wave he conjured a couple of chairs for them to sit on. "It seems there was some rather unusual kind of poison in that snake's fangs that keeps wounds open... They're sure they'll find an antidote, though, they say they've had much worse cases than mine, and in the meantime, I just have to keep taking a Blood-Replenishing Potion every hour. But that fellow over there," He lowered his voice and pointed to the man in front of them. "Bitten by a werewolf, poor chap. No cure at all."

"A werewolf?" Mrs Weasley turned to look at the man with wide eyes. "Is he safe in a public ward? Shouldn't he be in a private room?"

"It's two weeks till full moon. They've been talking to him this morning, the Healers, you know, trying to persuade him he'll be able to lead an almost normal life. I said to him — didn't mention names, of course — but I said I knew a werewolf personally, very nice man, who finds the condition quite easy to manage..."

"What did he say?" asked George.

"Said he'd give me another bite if I didn't shut up. And that woman over there won't tell the Healers what bit her, which makes us all think it must have been something she was handling illegally. Whatever it was took a real chunk out of her leg, very nasty smell when they take off the dressings."

Mel's eyes stayed on the man laying ahead of them. The newborn werewolf, a man who was probably completely fine before being bitten. Was it really two weeks before the full moon? That wasn't ideal, she wanted to see her uncle, she was missing him lots already, and having half a week wasted because of his condition made her feel terribly for him.

"So, you going to tell us what happened, Dad?" asked Fred.

"Well, you already know, don't you? It's very simple — I'd had a very long day, dozed off, got sneaked up on, and bitten."

"Is it in the Prophet, you being attacked?" asked Fred.

"No, of course not, the Ministry wouldn't want everyone to know a dirty great serpent got —"

"Arthur!" said Mrs Weasley.

"— got — er — me," Mr Weasley finished.

"So where were you when it happened, Dad?" asked George.

"That's my business," said Mr Weasley calmly, "I was just reading about Willy Widdershins's arrest when you arrived. You know Willy turned out to be behind those regurgitating toilets last summer? One of his jinxes backfired, the toilet exploded, and they found him lying unconscious in the wreckage covered from head to foot in —"

"When you say you were 'on duty,'" Fred interrupted in a low voice, "what were you doing?"

"You heard your father," Mrs Weasley hissed, "we are not discussing this here! Go on about Willy Widdershins, Arthur —"

"Well, don't ask me how, but he actually got off on the toilet charge. I can only suppose gold changed hands —"

"You were guarding it, weren't you?" said George eagerly. "The weapon? The thing You-Know-Who's after?"

"George, be quiet!"

"Anyway," Mr Weasley continued like he hadn't been interrupted, "this time Willy's been caught selling biting doorknobs to Muggles, and I don't think he'll be able to worm his way out of it because according to this article, two Muggles have lost fingers and are now in St. Mungo's for emergency bone regrowth and memory modification. Just think of it, Muggles in St. Mungo's! I wonder which ward they're in?"

"Didn't you say You-Know-Who's got a snake, Harry?" asked Fred, glancing at his father anxiously. "A massive one? You saw it the night he returned, didn't you?"

"There's no need to talk about that night," Mel said roughly. The tone she used was enough to quiet the twin, but Mrs Weasley added more to it.

"That's enough! Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, Arthur, they want to come and see you. And you lot can wait outside. You can come and say good-bye afterwards. Go on..."

Mel stood up and wished Mr Weasley as fast recovery, then she followed the rest of her friends back outside. Moody and Tonks went in, Fred spoke up.

"Fine, be like that. Don't tell us anything."

"Looking for these?" said George, holding out the extendable ears.

"You read my mind," Fred grinned. "Let's see if St. Mungo's puts Imperturbable Charms on its ward doors, shall we?"

They gave everyone an extendable ear, Harry's hand stopped midway, hesitant to follow through.

"Go on, Harry, take it! You saved Dad's life, if anyone's got the right to eavesdrop on him it's you..." George insisted.

"Okay, go!" Fred whispered once they were all seated.

"...they searched the whole area but they couldn't find the snake anywhere," She heard Tonks voice, "it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you, Arthur... But You-Know-Who can't have expected a snake to get in, can he?"

"I reckon he sent it as a lookout," Moody replied, " 'cause he's not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he's trying to get a clearer picture of what he's facing and if Arthur hadn't been there the beast would've had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?"

"Yes," said Mrs Weasley. "You know, Dumbledore seems almost to have been waiting for Harry to see something like this..."

"Yeah, well," said Moody, "there's something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that."

"Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning," whispered Mrs Weasley. "He said Mel used legilimency and found nothing unusual, but he's not so sure."

"Legilimency?" Moody said in a tone of mild surprise. "A fifteen-year-old having control over that kind of magic? No wonder why You-Know-Who wants her on his side!"

Mel gasped and Ron was quick to cover her mouth. So that was it then, Voldemort didn't want to kill her, he wanted to use her.

"...The boy's seeing things from inside You-Know-Who's snake... Obviously, Potter doesn't realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who's possessing him —"

Harry jumped back, dropping the extendable ear and looking at his friends with wide eyes. Mel kept her gaze fixed on the door.

She wanted nothing else than to follow Harry's lead and hide in her room for the rest of the day, but as soon as she set a foot on the entrance hall, Ron caught her wrist and pulled her towards the twins' room, quickly followed by the rest of the young Weasleys.

"What?" She asked, though she already knew.

"You know what's going on," Ron said. "You knew Harry was ill before Neville had left the room, and you knew Umbridge was hurting him. Not only that, but you had the same bruises as Harry on the back of your hand!"

"How..?"

"Hermione saw it one day while you were still asleep," Ron confessed. "You have to tell us what's going on."

"I don't have the answers," She said tensely. "I can't tell if what they're saying it's true, I don't know if Harry's possessed."

"But you can tell other things, can't you?" Her friend insisted. "Last June, you had the same injuries as him in your arm, only that yours were bruises..."

She looked at the twins and Ginny, they were all staring at her. Now was as good as any other day, Harry didn't care about her telling them, but she had to be careful. Mel sat down on Fred's bed and told them everything.

Well, not everything. She began her story on the night of the third task, when the thin wall dividing her lifeline from Harry's broke apart. It was simple, really. They had been through so many near-death experiences together that the magic in their souls had merged, creating their strange connection.

Dumbledore had called it survival instincts, Harry's mind would look for her whenever he felt in danger, whether he wanted to or not. Not only that, but they were able to lend a bit of vital energy to each other if they were lacking some in a crucial moment.

The Weasleys listened with their mouths wide open, Ginny kept biting her nails, Ron looked awfully confused and would look at her and then the floor as if he could see Harry through it.

"That's why we fought," She said. "Harry doesn't want to force me to feel his pain. He thought that distance would help but I don't think we'll ever go back to normal. It didn't use to be this strong but ever since he fought Voldemort I feel more things now... I see more."

"But..." Ron frowned, trying to gather his thoughts. "But it's not you in his body, right? Or Harry in your body?"

"No..." Mel hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. "I stay in my body and he stays in his. I just... it's like dreaming. You feel things, but as soon as you wake up, it goes away."

"But you've been hurt before," Fred frowned. "Ron said it just now, you get bruises, and last night when we got here, your nose was bleeding—"

"Those were my fault—" She started, but Fred shook his head in disbelief.

"How's that your fault?"

"The bruises happened because I didn't ground myself," Mel said. "Harry was going through a lot... he was dying. I had to give in a little so he could come back. I had to let him take whatever he needed..."

Her friends gave her eery looks, she let out a tired sigh.

"I know how it sounds, but I promise this is not hurting me more than it hurts him. This thing goes both ways, if I were the one hurting, Harry would feel everything. He... he would've done the same for me. You know he would."

No one talked against her, still, Ron had lots of questions.

"What about last night?"

"Last night," Mel look down, fidgeting at the idea of having felt something else than just Harry, but not wanting to scare her friends. "I was weak– I used legilimency for the first time, it drained me. I couldn't push Harry's feelings away, I just buried them inside. Which was a mistake."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked. "If... if it turns out he's possessed, what will that do to you?"

"He can't be," Mel sentenced, but her voice broke at the end.

"Have you felt anything strange?"

"I just feel Harry, even if he were struggling with something, I doubt I'd feel it. I only feel the things that belong to his soul."

"I don't get it," George frowned. "You saved his life last June and he blames you for the connection?"

"He doesn't blame her," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry's scared for her. You'd be terrified too if your best friend gets hurt every time you do. Harry probably freaked out when he found out he'd taken a bit of Mel's life. That sounds awful... But he would've done the same for you, and it was your choice anyway, I think you were brave for doing so."

"Maybe if you talk to Harry he'll understand," Ron offered.

Mel let out a bitter laugh.

"I've tried. As soon as he told me his idea— I've tried to tell him that this is not his fault. The best we can do is just ignore it and try to live normal lives."

"I don't think it'll fix it," Fred replied. "Things don't usually go away like that."

" I'm not saying I'll ignore it if he's in danger, you saw it last night, I was the first to arrive and help him. I like my new life, I like having more friends and I can't help but think that maybe..."

She stopped before saying 'I don't need him anymore', realizing it was something horrible to say.

"Maybe what?" Ron asked sharply, probably guessing what she wanted to say.

"Maybe it's time I stop treating Harry like a child and let him deal with this on his own. He keeps saying he can do it, so maybe I should listen."

"What if he can't, though?" Ginny asked. "What if they're right and... and he's..."

Mel got up. "I'm tired... can we please leave it?"

"But—"

"Sure," Fred stood up as well. "C'mon, we should help mum and Emily downstairs."

He shared one significant look with Mel, she wondered if he'd gotten a new revelation with this. Maybe he understood there was more to their agreement than just her wanting to get over a crush.

It was about wanting to escape from the constant reminder of being tied to someone against her will, someone who didn't want her around.

Next Chapter —>

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