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#my flatmates are all in different years from me so I don’t know what to talk to them about

imagrindylow · 2 months

Note

Would you pretty please write a leander fic with female MC that takes place after hogwarts. He is dating her roommate, but the roommate is awful and is not nice. He and MC end up falling for each other?

Yesssss! I love this idea and I loved working on this! SO SORRY that it took me such an embarrassing amount of time to finish your request, but thank you for sending it to me!

Worth the Wait

Leander Prewett / Samantha Dale; Leander Prewett / f!MC 14.8k Words Content Warnings: 18+ Explicit content; cheating, alcohol use, fluff, angst, oral sex, fingering, sex Summary: You were used to your flatmate's frequent complaints about her boyfriend, but as you got to know him better for yourself, none of those complaints made sense to you.

~~~~~~

It was over a game of Summoner’s Court with Samantha Dale during the final weeks of seventh year, when then two of you came to the decision to become flat mates upon graduating. You had mentioned how you wanted to move to London, because you had a goal of working at St. Mungo’s as a healer, but that you were worried about moving to the city on your own, and all of your close friends had plans to reside elsewhere. Samantha’s eyes had lit up, her mouth curling into a grin as she explained that she had plans on taking a Ministry position within the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and as it happened, she was in the market for a flat mate as well. You and Samantha were little more than casual friends, on the outskirts of each other's main social groups, but you got on well enough with each other that you felt fine taking the opportunity as it appeared, and that was that.

The two bedroom unit was tiny, but it worked, and had been home for the past almost two years. Despite being flat mates, you saw relatively little of each other, with both of you working full time to save for something better, the goal having been to keep the living arrangement as temporary as possible. Especially over the last several months, Samantha was absent. You knew she was seeing someone, as she would return from nights spent away with stories and complaints. This Sunday evening was no different.

Stumbling out of the fireplace in a blaze of green flames at eleven at night after a weekend spent with her boyfriend, you could smell the fire whiskey wafting from Samantha’s breath as she slumped down on the other end of the sofa with a sigh. Her bag dropped to the floor at her feet as she relaxed.

Lifting your gaze from your book, you turn to Samantha with furrowed brows. “Don’t you work tomorrow?”

She nodded and groaned before listing her head towards you, her eyes drunkenly rolling in exasperation. “He’s so dull sometimes. The alcohol helps.” She muttered lazily, slumping further into the cushions.

You shook your head. “If he’s that bad, why keep seeing him?” It was a question you’d asked her at least a dozen times over the last five months. Sometimes he was dull, other times he was clingy, sometimes he was too sensitive. You rarely heard a good word from Samantha in regard to the man she spent so much of her free time with, and it was a conundrum to you.

It was a question she usually managed to dodge, but in her inebriation she opened up. “He’s nice and all...” She slurred. “And… it’s not like I have a better option at the moment.” She replied with a shrug, nonchalantly.

“So, you’re with this man because you’re bored?” You asked, trying not to sound too judgy, though Samantha’s dismissiveness made it difficult.

Samantha chuckled, a grin on her face. “Don’t act as though you wouldn’t if you could.” She said, her speech mumbled, then back peddled. “Not saying you couldn’t, if you tried… Oh, you know what I mean. I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“I suppose it’s not my business.” You said with a shrug. You knew it really wasn’t your place to lecture her. She was going to do what she wanted regardless.

“Sure isn’t.” She grinned. “Going to bed. See you.” Samantha said and pulled herself up from the sofa with a groan, and headed to her room with staggered steps.

~~~

It was untypical for Samantha to have her boyfriend over to your shared flat, she usually opted to spend time at his place, as he lived alone. It was even less typical for her to bring him round while you were home – the small space you shared not giving much opportunity for privacy. You hadn’t even met the man the entire time Samantha had been seeing him – didn’t even know his name – as though he wasn’t an important enough part of Samantha’s life for her to bring up that detail in conversation with you.

It hadn’t crossed your mind at all that the knocking on your door Wednesday evening could possibly have been your flat mate’s mystery boyfriend.

“Are you expecting someone?” You called from the sitting room to Samantha, who was in her room, getting changed out of her work robes – the knocking coming within minutes of her arriving home that evening.

“No!” She called back from behind her closed door.

You hadn’t been expecting anyone either, so with her answer, you expected the knock to be from a sales person. You lifted yourself from the sofa and made your way from the sitting room down the narrow hallway to your front door. Looking through the peephole in your door, you were shocked to see someone you hadn’t seen since leaving Hogwarts. Leander Prewett?

“One minute!” You called from the other side of the door, through the peephole you saw him nod in response. You would have had no problem just letting him in right away, but as a courtesy you wanted to give Samantha a heads up that someone was coming in. You made your way back through your flat and towards Samantha’s room, where she was just stepping into the hall, now changed from her work robes.

“Leander Prewett is at our front door. What in the world?” You asked her with a chuckle, making your way back towards the door to answer it, curious what he wanted after so long. You stopped in your tracks when Samantha’s hand found your shoulder, her jaw dropping in surprise before her lips turned up into a seemingly embarrassed grin.

“Ohh. It’s for me, then.” She began, and squeezed past you in the narrow hall. “That’s who I’ve been seeing.” She admitted, a look of what you could only describe as embarrassment crept over her face.

You looked at her with wide eyes, as you took in this information and pieced it together with everything she had said of the man she’d been seeing. All of her previous complaints had been about Leander? You weren’t very close with him, most of your interactions having been from fifth year when various students had been assigned to show you the ropes. You remembered him as being brash at times, yet reserved and fumbling at others, never really knowing which persona was closest to accurate. Sixth and seventh year you were friendly acquaintances, chatting in mutual classes but nothing much further.

When Samantha opened the door to allow him inside you were still in the hallway, trying to make sense of it all. You had been fairly sure that the pair didn’t even like each other, at least not back in fifth year, recalling that Samantha had badly beaten Leaner in numerous rounds of Summoners Court… back then, it was him who’d complained to you about her. You shrugged the thought off, knowing that time changes things. They obviously had gotten closer at some point in the later years of school.

Snapping out of it and trying not to be so overt in your eavesdropping, you headed off the hall and into the kitchen, starting the tea kettle while keeping your ears alert. From what you gathered, Leander had dropped by to surprise her with dinner, and despite her kind words, Samantha’s tone sounded less than thrilled with his unannounced appearance. The pair chatted in the threshold for a few minutes before the sounds of their voices drew closer as Samantha allowed Leander inside, their footsteps approaching the kitchen as you readied the tea.

Stepping into your kitchen together, Samantha spoke first, an informal re-introduction. “You two know each other, if I recall. Leander’s brought us dinner.” She said casually.

You and Leander each nodded at Samantha’s presumption, exchanging friendly smiles. Leander looked both surprised and happy to see you. “I knew Samantha had a flat mate, I didn’t know it was you.” He said with a chuckle. “How’ve you been, MC?” He asked.

“I’ve been quite well, thank you, and yourself?”

“Couldn’t be better.” He grinned, wrapping an arm around Samantha’s waist affectionately. His other hand held a fairly large brown paper bag. “I hope it’s not an imposition that I stopped by. As Samantha said, I’ve brought dinner, for all of us.”

“Of course it’s no imposition.” You said and invited him to sit at the table. “Tea?” You offered, and he nodded politely after taking a seat.

Samantha, having taken the bag from him, set it on the kitchen counter and pulled a large ceramic container from it. Clearly the bag had been enchanted to accommodate the large and heavy looking contents. She gathered dishes to eat with, while you served tea for the three of you. You shot Samantha a look, a grin that went to your eyes along with a subtle approving nod at his gesture, communicating silently to her, and perhaps trying to convince her – this is a good man. The half-hearted grin she gave you in return left a bad taste in your mouth.

The meal appeared to be a beef stew, still steaming hot as Samantha served it into bowls. “I didn’t know you cooked.” She complimented, smiling at Leander as she brought the bowls to the table, the three of you sitting down to eat, now. “It smells wonderful.”

“Actually, it’s my mum’s cooking. She turned up at my flat not thirty minutes ago with this massive pot. I told her I could never finish it all before it would go bad but she wouldn’t hear it, you know how mums can be. So, I thought who better to share it with.” He said, smiling adoringly at Samantha as he spoke. “I wanted to come by while it was still hot. I do apologize for showing up unannounced.”

“Of course.” Samantha nodded, tasting the stew. She gave the dish an approving nod, though learning that he didn’t prepare the meal himself seemed to have dulled her previous enthusiasm. “Well your mum is a lovely cook. This is delicious.” You said, thoroughly enjoying having the night off from cooking, something you and Samantha took turns doing. Tonight would have been your night. “I’ll let her know you both enjoy it. If there’s one thing she’ll never tire of, it’s people complimenting her cooking.” Leander said with a chuckle, dipping his spoon into the stew and eating.

For not being how you had anticipated spending your evening, it went well. Leander only spent about an hour or so visiting following dinner, worried about overstaying an unannounced appearance, though neither you nor Samantha had other plans that evening. Regardless of the short duration of his stay, you enjoyed catching up with him. You’d learned that he, like Samantha, also worked for the Ministry, though in separate departments. He currently held a position in the Improper Use of Magic Office. The longer the three of you talked, the more confused you were of Samantha’s frequent complaints of this man. He’d clearly come into his confidence, not coming across as overcompensating or nervous as he had in school. He held a good job, and clearly cared a lot for Samantha.

You silently reminded yourself that Samantha’s reasoning for dating Leander was not your business, after he left for the evening, when Samantha let out an audible sigh as she made her way back to the sitting room after walking him out.

“Sorry.” She said, looking apologetic as she sat back down on the sofa, idly fidgeting with the throw pillow beside her

“For?” You asked her, utterly confused on what she could be apologizing for.

“Unexpected company, having to entertain on no notice.” Samantha explained, her voice sounded drained, as though she’d just dealt with something arduous and unpleasant. As though the surprise of her own boyfriend coming by with a home cooked meal was anything other than kind and thoughtful.

“It hardly felt as though we were entertaining him.” You waved her off, assuring her. “Though, I am curious why you didn’t mention it was Leander that you were seeing.”

Samantha shrugged. “I didn’t think it was important, it’s not serious.” She said simply, her tone indifferent.

“He seems serious.” You retorted with a smirk. You didn’t want to argue with her, it was her relationship after all, but it was obvious, at least to you, that he seemed to be on a very different wavelength than Samantha was.

She sounded exasperated, “It’s only been a few months.”

“Right.” You disagreed with her definition of ‘a few’ but that was neither here nor there. You nodded, acknowledging her reasoning, leaning forward to the coffee table to grab the book you’d been reading lately.

Only a beat had passed before she groaned and started venting to you, sounding as though she was looking for your validation of her opinions. “Am I alone in thinking it’s… immature for him to have his mummy cooking him food and delivering it to him? And coming by unannounced...”

You laughed out loud. “Surely you’re joking? I’m sure he didn’t ask her to cook for him. You’re the one spending weekends at his flat, is he immature?” You asked her, looking at her inquisitively. When she didn’t reply after several seconds, you spoke up again. “It sounds like you’re actively looking for flaws to take issue with... Dropping in unannounced is one thing, but you’ve been seeing him for months, and I’m sure he thought you’d enjoy the surprise.”

“You’re right.” She said. You were unsure for a moment of which point she was agreeing with, but then she added, “Maybe I am just looking for flaws in him.”

Well, her admitting it was a start. You’d hoped that her realizing this point would lead her to either be more appreciative of this man who is clearly putting in effort, or, stop leading him along like a puppy and cut him loose.

~~~

It was just two weeks later when you found Leander at your doorstep again, though this time, you’d expected him. Samantha had let you know before she left for work this morning that he’d be over after work to pick her up, as they’d be heading out to dinner together. He’d arrived nicely dressed, and with a bouquet for her, and was visibly confused when you answered the door rather than his girlfriend.

Between now and your last conversation with Samantha about her love life, she’d stopped complaining about Leander, and the only assumption that you could draw was that her opinions of him were improving. You were very surprised that she wasn’t home from work yet when he came by to meet her.

“Hello, MC,” he smiled and nodded to greet you. “Is Samantha ready yet?” He asked after you opened the door for him.

“She’s actually not home from work yet.” You told him, your brow furrowing in commiseration for his evening not beginning as expected.

“Really?” He asked, his voice that of disbelief.

“Sorry… I’m not sure exactly when she’ll be back. She hadn’t mentioned needing to stay late, so something must have come up.” Your voice was soft and you had a look of sympathy on your face for him, as he was clearly put off by the whole turn of events.

He didn’t respond for a beat, looking at you with confusion, unsure of what the best move would be. “Umm… Well…” He began before trailing off again.

“You’re welcome to come in and wait for her, if you want to. And we can get those into a vase.” You offered, and gestured at the flowers.

“If that’s really alright, I’ll take you up on that. But I wouldn’t want to impose. Are you sure?” He said, sounding a little hesitant.

“I promise, it’s no bother.” You said and stood aside, gesturing for him to come in. He gave you an appreciative nod and stepped inside. “Alright let’s find a vase.” You said and led him into the kitchen. After a quick search through the back of one of the cabinets, you pulled out an old glass, which you transfigured into a suitable vase with a flick of your wand. You added water and he added the flowers, and you set the vase on the counter.

“I appreciate that.” He said.

“Mhm. She’ll love to see those after a long day at work.” You told him as you leaned back against the counter whilst you chatted.

“Is it often that Samantha works late?” He wondered, standing in the doorway to the small kitchen, resting his shoulder against the frame, his arms crossed casually.

“It happens from time to time, especially lately it seems.” You said, thinking back on the last few weeks. “But anyway, can I get you some tea while you wait?”

“No, no. I really don’t want to trouble you.” He said, waving the suggestion off, shaking his head. “You just… carry on with whatever you were doing and don’t let me bother you.”

“It’s not trouble. Are you sure you don’t want anything? I think tea sounds good right now. I think I’ll make some either way.” You said.

“Well… If you were going to make some tea for yourself anyway, I suppose I could take a cup.” He said with a grin. “Thank you, MC, again, I appreciate you letting me come in and wait.” He added. “Hopefully she wont be long.”

“Hopefully, but you’re welcome to wait as long as you’d like. I was just reading. You aren’t interrupting anything.” You said as you filled the tea kettle with water with a flick of your wand and sent it gliding through the air to the stove top, another point of you wand lighting the flame beneath the pot.

Several minutes later, after some idle chit chat about how your respective day had gone and about the weather, the two of you retired to the sitting room with your teacups. Leander took a seat on the arm chair beside the sofa you sat down on, and sipped the drink.

“When Samantha does end up working late, does she typically send an owl?” Leander asked you as he crossed his legs and got comfortable in his seat.

“No, I don’t think she’s ever sent notice, honestly.”

“My apologies for quizzing you – but, on her late evenings – when does she typically arrive back home?”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, Leander.” You assured him. You completely understood his line of questioning. “It varies. Sometimes an hour late, but occasionally more. Always with rather entertaining stories of whatever outstanding catastrophe kept her busy.”

Leander hummed and nodded his head, a faint look of disappointment on his face to hear that he may be waiting awhile. “May I?” He asked and gestured towards a copy of the Daily Prophet that was sitting on the coffee table in front of you.

“By all means. Like I’d said, I was just reading a book when you arrived, anyway. I can get back to that, then.”

Leander got up to grab the paper before settling back down in the armchair, and you reached for your book once again, picking up where you had left off before. The silence in the room while the two of you read was only mildly uncomfortable to start. Leander had the paper folded open for only a few minutes before he laid it on his lap to sip once again on his tea, and you noticed his gaze lingering in your direction while he drank… Though he wasn’t exactly looking at you.

“Hm?” You hummed, drawing his attention to your face.

“Oh, your book.” He said, gesturing to the hard bound copy of a large muggle book entitled Moby-Dick on your lap. “I didn’t know the Hero of Hogwarts was such an intellectual.” He teased.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading… I couldn’t very well duel and fight all the time.” She said with a smirk. “And don’t call me that.” She added, rolling her eyes, though her tone was light.

“Oh? Tired of that title? Fair enough.” He smirked.

“Have you read it?” She asked, nodding down at her book and ignoring the reminder of the title she’d earned in fifth year that seemed to continue following her around despite her best attempts at normalcy.

“I have. We can discuss it once you’re finished.”

“I’d like that.”

He nodded and gave you a smirk before turning his attention back to the Daily Prophet. You resumed your reading, slowly sipping your tea, hyper-aware of the quiet ticking of the antique clock mounted on the wall above the fireplace, as you turned page after page after page… Samantha was very late.

You were sure more than an hour had passed since you let Leander in to wait for his girlfriend, and with every passing minute you felt increasingly bad for him, as you racked your brain for the right things to say to him. It was well past dinner time, and Samantha had still not arrived or sent an owl.

Leander sat tapping his foot, you looked up from your book to notice him checking the time with his pocket watch against that of your clock, as though he was unbelieving of his current situation. The man looked anxious, not dissimilar to the teenager you knew in school.

You had to say something at this point, to try to ease the tension for him, to break the silence thick in the room. You’d thought back to your own dinner plans. You hadn’t counted on cooking for just yourself since you were anticipating being on your own for supper. You were going to treat yourself to a meal out at a local pub.

You cleared your throat before you finally spoke up. “You know, I was going to get something to eat at this pub around the corner.”

“Oh, gods MC, I am so sorry, I’m impeding on your dinner now. I can go, just… just tell Samantha I came by and to send an owl when she gets back home.” He said, speaking quickly, his tone apologetic. He shut the paper and tossed it gently back to the coffee table as he stood up, as though preparing to leave.

“Actually I was going to ask if maybe you’d like to join me?” You asked as you stood as well, closing your book and laying it on the arm of the sofa.

You noticed Leander’s face go immediately red at the invitation. A dinner alone with his girlfriend’s flatmate certainly did not sound appropriate to him at that moment, and his facial expression gave away his thought process to you. You regretted the proposal almost instantly, but you were already committed to the invitation so you stuck to it. Was it really so wrong to ask?

“We could just catch up some more and grab a quick bite. I didn’t stop for groceries, I hadn’t planned on cooking tonight thinking that Samantha would be out with you for dinner. And well.. I need to eat but it doesn’t feel right just telling you to leave when you’ve been waiting for Samantha for so long.”

Leander looked at you quizzically, but was weighing your offer. “What about Samantha?” He wondered, folding his arms as he debated.

That was the dilemma wasn’t it?

“I’m not sure.” You said and shrugged your shoulders. You had a lot of things you wanted to say about the situation itself and about Samantha in general. But that wouldn’t be appropriate. “You’re free to keep waiting while I go, if you don’t want to come.”

“You know what, I’ll come.” He decided. “I’m hungry… I’m… annoyed. And having dinner myself at home certainly won’t make me feel any better.”

“Well then. I’ll lead the way. The place is just around the corner.” You say as you head towards the front door of the flat.

Leander followed behind you as you headed out into the streets of London, but stopped before rounding the corner, looking behind him over his shoulder, clearly hoping to catch sight of Samantha, but there was no one. Waiting a few steps in front of him, you watched him shake his head, clearly disappointed, before catching up with you.

“I’m sorry.” You said as he walked beside you the final block to the pub.

Leander let out a half-hearted “mhm” as the two of you approached the pub, he pulled the door and held it open for you. Taking seats at the bar counter, the two of you ordered butterbeers while he looked over the chalk scrawled food menu on the wall behind the counter.

Raising his pint glass, Leander’s tone shifted towards something of amusement. He chuckled and shook his head before saying, “Well this is odd isn’t it? I don’t think we’ve ever shared a drink together.”

You thought on it for a moment before smirking and nodding in agreement. “You’re right, we haven’t. Cheers, then.”

“Cheers.” Leander grinned. Clinking your glass to his, you sipped your drinks, and made some small talk until the bartender interrupted to take your food orders.

It didn’t take long for you to forget your intentions of making this a quick outing. Your meals had arrived when you were each on your second drink, conversation flowing easily as you reminisced on your not so long since passed Hogwarts years. The more you spoke the more you wondered why you weren’t closer friends with Leander back in school. Hearing his stories from his time at Hogwarts, there was definitely more to him than had met your eye back then… Furthermore, you wondered what the bloody hell Samantha was talking about all of the times she had spoken poorly of him. He was funny, engaging, witty, and confident enough to poke fun at his previously awkward teenage self. Not to mention charming… and handsome.

Not ready to head back immediately following your meal, you each ordered a third butterbeer just for good measure, and carried on conversing about school, quidditch, work, life. It was Leander doing a double take on his pocket watch, a laugh falling from his lips at the shock of more than two hours having passed since you arrived that finally prompted the two of you to call for the cheque.

“What are you doing?” You ask as Leander snatches the cheque before you could even get a look at it. “What do I owe?”

“You don’t.” He said. “You’ve been too kind to me, letting me wait in your flat for Samantha for so long, making me tea, letting me impose on your dinner plans. I’ve got it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I can pay for myself.”

“So stubborn, MC. I absolutely insist.” He said as he pulled a few galleons from his pocket and laid them on the counter. “Now, will you let me walk you back to your flat? It’s getting late.”

Charming, handsome and a gentleman.

You nodded. “I’ll allow it.” You chuckled. “You can pop back in, surely Samantha will be home by now.”

“I‘d appreciate that.” He said.

The two of you left the pub, and took the short walk back to your flat. It was dark outside now, dim light filling the streets from the lamp posts lighting the way. You were surprised when you unlocked the door to your flat and saw that the lights were off, as though no one was home. Not wanting to jump immediately to conclusions as you walked through your silent flat, you knocked on Samantha’s bedroom door while Leander waited in the kitchen. You assumed that maybe she had come home and laid right down. When after a few moments she didn’t call out or answer the door, you cracked it open just slightly, peering inside. She wasn’t home.

You closed her door and headed back down the hall and to the kitchen where Leander was leaning back against one of the counters with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “She’s not in there.” You told him. “I’m sorry, Leander.”

He shook his head, the disappointment and confusion apparent on his face. “You think she’s alright?” He wondered. He began to pace, fidgeting with his hands. Something about his stance and actions transported you right back to fifth year. This anxiousness of his was familiar to you. “Something serious must have happened in her department, then, right? I mean why else would she not be here yet? To just not show up when we had plans. Do you think-”

“I’m sure she’s alright. Probably just a staffing issue.” You suggested, cutting off his uneasy rambling. Honestly had no idea of what could have possibly been going on. You just wanted to reassure the man standing in your kitchen. “I’ll tell her to send you an owl as soon as she gets home.”

“Right, thank you again MC, for your hospitality. I'll just be going then. It’s getting late after all.” He said, talking quickly now, and heading back down the hall and to your front door. You followed behind him, seeing him out.

Standing in the door frame as he headed down the front stairs of your small porch, you found yourself speaking without having considered the words before they left your mouth. “I had a nice time with you this evening.”

You felt the warmth of embarrassment in your cheeks the moment the words left your mouth. You wondered why you had said that. He hadn’t been in your home to spend time with you. He was merely waiting on his girlfriend. Your flatmate. No matter their truth, if you could have sucked your words back out of the air, you would have. Leander stopped and turned around on the stairs, looking up at you, you saw his lips curve into a subtle grin.

“Me too.” He said. “All things considered, it was a rather pleasant evening.”

Him returning your sentiment while not sounding like he’d spoken out of pity or to ease your clear embarrassment, was a bit of a surprise to you. He was too kind. Much too kind to be wrapped around Samantha’s fingers, you thought.

The eye contact held between the two of you, remaining even after he’d spoken, was too much for you to keep up with for another second. “Goodnight, Leander.” You said, putting an end to the exchange you shouldn’t have started to begin with.

“Goodnight, MC.” He said, showing off that damn grin of his again before he nodded and turned, heading down the final stair onto the sidewalk, and away from your flat. You shut and locked your front door, leaning back against it with a sigh when he was gone. You shook your head, willing yourself to snap out of whatever delusion had you believing that it was appropriate to think of your flatmate's boyfriend in the ways you’d begun to as of late.

~~~

Samanatha was still not home by the time you’d readied yourself for bed that night, but the following morning, you awoke to the sound of the tea kettle whistling on the stove top, and you knew she was back. Pulling yourself from your bed, you headed to the kitchen, curious what had ended up keeping her so late last night. You knew it wasn’t really your place to question Samantha, but you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the best of you this morning.

Walking into the kitchen, you leaned against the wall, facing her, watching as she pulled the lid off the tin of chamomile tea on the counter. She looked as though she’d been up all night.

“Rough night at work last night?” You asked her.

“It was very busy.” Samantha replied, not even looking up at you when you spoke, but keeping her attention on her tea as she prepped it. Her short tone immediately gave you the impression that she was not interested in having this conversation at all.

You let out a short hum in acknowledgement at her statement, then cut right to the chase. “I told Leander I’d tell you to send him an owl when I saw you.”

“I already sent him one.” She said, glancing at you letting out a small huff as though annoyed. “In fact, he sent me an owl before you were even up.”

Samantha leaned against the counter opposite you, waiting on her tea to steep. “His brute of an owl was pecking at my window before 7AM. I’d still be asleep if it weren’t for that damned bird.” She added and shook her head in displeasure.

“He was worried.” You said, justifying Leander’s actions on his behalf, unable to blame him for reaching out to her this morning, even if it was quite early for an owl on a Saturday. “You stood him up. He thought something bad had happened to you.”

“I was busy. At work.” Samantha said, emphasizing her excuse but offering no further explanation as to what specifically held her up.

You couldn’t help but feel Samantha was being disingenuous with both her short response and her dismissive body language, casually drinking her tea as she spoke. She didn’t seem to have a care in the world over the fact that she’d upset her boyfriend with her unexpected absence from their date night

“Still, you could have sent him an owl and let him know you wouldn’t be home to meet him, couldn’t you have? It wouldn’t have taken more than a few moments.”

“But I didn’t, and it’s a new day. I replied to his owl. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going back to bed.” She said shortly, leaving no room for further discussion. She took her tea and headed past you and down the hall towards her room.

“Are you going to be home this weekend, then?” You asked her before she disappeared behind her door, your nosiness getting the better of you, you could tell from her facial expression when you’d asked.

“Yep.” She replied, increasing annoyance at your questioning in her voice. She shut the door behind her as she retreated into her room, leaving you in the kitchen with more questions than you had answers for. You sighed, your mind wandering.

Did they argue in their letters this morning? Are they even still together? Why do I care so damn much? The last thought weighing heavy this morning.

Not two minutes later, while you were still in thought in the kitchen, Samantha reemerged from her room, this time with a question for you. Her arms were crossed as she stood in the doorway between the hall and kitchen.

“You said he was worried. So worried he’d thought something bad had happened to me?” She began, her tone incredulous.

You nodded, recalling how anxious Leander had gotten by the end of the night, when she’d left him wondering and questioning for hours after she was supposed to have met with him.

“Hard to believe that would have been his immediate conclusion, even with how terribly anxious he can get. His letter said he waited awhile, hoping to see me. So, just how long was he here with you last night?” She asked, her question sounding almost like an accusation of wrongdoing on your part. You’d never heard Samantha sound this way over him before. As though she might have actually cared that you’d been alone with him.

“It was a few hours. I’m not even sure what time he left.” You answered honestly, curious the reaction this would get from her.

She looked shocked, though not angry with this information. If you hadn’t known better given the situation, you could have almost sworn you’d seen some faint amusement behind her eyes. “Sounds like he wasn’t as lonely as he’d let on in his letter, then.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? He was waiting for you.”

“Nothing.” She said, and smirked. So… she had been amused… It struck you as odd and unfitting. “It’s fine. I hope the two of you had a pleasant time catching up.”

“We did.” You confirmed, trying to keep your face from looking absolutely smug, but your tone conveyed that she should, in fact, be jealous that you got the time she missed out on with her boyfriend.

“Right, well, I’m glad.” She said, sounding too sincere for the scenario. “I’m exhausted, work was busy, as I said. I’m going to lay down.”

~~~

The next week brought more late nights at work for Samantha, and aggravation for you, as you were left with more responsibilities around the flat in her absence. During your twelve hour shift at St. Mungos on Saturday that week you found yourself hoping that your flatmate spent at least part of her day off back at home cleaning up the place a bit. You were feeling poorly and the last thing you wanted was to come home from such a long shift to a flat that needed cleaning.

However, as your morning went on your prevailing thought shifted to simply surviving your shift, as you started feeling worse after your lunch break. You must have looked ill, because the matron healer on your shift noticed your condition as soon as you’d met with her to discuss afternoon rounds. The older woman took one look at you, noting your pale and clammy state, and ordered you to go home and rest, sending you out the door with a bottle of Pepperup potion in hand.

When you apparated to your doorstep, you were no longer concerned with the state in which you’d find the flat, but rather just getting into your bed, drinking your potion, and sleeping whatever this is, off.

You strode through your front door with a groan, immediately starting to complain about how you felt, knowing Samantha was somewhere in the flat to hear you. You heard her muttering something or other from the living room as you headed down the hall and towards her voice.

Rounding the corner into the room, you dropped your vial of Pepperup potion in surprise when you saw Samantha. The glass shattering on the floor was what drew her attention to you, and you realized the muttering you’d heard hadn’t been directed to you at all, but to the man whose lap she was sat atop on the couch. A man who was not Leander.

“MC! I- I didn’t expect you home so soon. You- I thought you had a twelve hour shift today.” She sputtered, looking as though she’d seen a ghost, likely as pale as you were with your ailment.

“I was feeling poorly, and got sent home early.” You said flatly, your mouth hanging open, staring at her as she scooted off the man's lap and stood up from the couch. You didn't recognise her company, but the emblem on his shirt when he stood up beside Samantha had shown that he was a coworker of hers in the ministry. “You and Leander-”

“We broke up. Last week.” She said quickly, cutting you off from finishing your question, though her response had covered the answer you were looking for.

You nodded at her explanation, relieved to hear you hadn’t just caught her cheating, though you wondered why she hadn’t talked to you when it happened. You weren’t that close but you’d have thought a break up would have come up in conversation at some point. You also couldn't help but find it a bit odd that she already had another man in your shared home only a week out from her breakup, but this was neither here nor there. You shifted a bit awkwardly with the scene you’d stumbled in on, wondering what the final straw was for Samantha, or if she’d simply found, in her words, ‘a better option.’ Regardless, you were glad Leander was free of her. You’d thought for a while now that he deserved better than your overly critical flatmate.

“We’ll just head to my room and let you rest, then, you look poorly.” Samantha said, and pulled her wand from her pocket, vanishing the mess of shattered potion at your feet before leading this new man across the living room and towards her bedroom.

“I need to go replace that, actually. I won’t be long.” You tell her, and she nodded in goodbye before disappearing behind her bedroom door, while you head back down the hallway, and apparate with a crack from your door to Diagon Alley.

The shop lined streets were loud and crowded, especially with it being a Saturday. Diagon Alley was typically a place you loved the atmosphere of, but with your head pounding and your body feeling clammy and tired, you wanted to get what you needed and leave as quickly as possible. You dodged people left and right as you made your way down the street to the Apothecary, your head down in an attempt to keep the sun out of your eyes, the bright rays making your headache that much worse.

Finally making your way into the Apothecary, you navigate your way through the narrow aisles of ingredients to the back of the shop where ready prepared potions were kept for sale.

“Excuse me.” You say politely to the tall gentleman standing directly in front of the section containing the Pepperup potions you were looking for, blocking them from your reach.

“Oh, my apologies.” He said and shifted a step to the side and out of your way. It was then that you realized his voice was one you recognized. Stepping up from behind him to stand at his side, you look up and grin softly at Leander, a bottle of Pepperup potion in his hands, reading the back of the bottle.

“Are you coming down with something as well?” You ask him, picking up a bottle for yourself.

With your question, he finally shifts his eyes away from the label on the bottle and to you, his eyes widening slightly as he nodded. “I blame you, actually. You must have gotten me sick after dinner last week.” He teased, his face pale and clammy looking like yours, his cheeks lacking their usually rosy glow.

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t feel well enough to argue so I suppose I’ll take the blame. I’m always catching these little bugs from my patients in the hospital.” You say, pausing for a moment in thought, wondering if it would be too much to bring up his recent break up. Having the information on your mind made you want to offer condolences.

“Well I hope you’re feeling better soon.” He says, before you had come to a decision on whether or not to say more.

You nodded, shifting to face him and deciding to just go with it, your face softening as you spoke. “You too. And, I'm sorry about you and Samantha. She told me this afternoon.”

Leander’s eyes narrowed, his brows pulling together in confusion as he tried to make sense of your words. He tilted his head slightly to one side as he pondered. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” You asked him, wondering how he could possibly not realize what you were talking about.

“MC, what exactly did Samantha tell you?” He asked, his voice sounding impatient for the information.

You swallowed hard, your palms starting to sweat as they gripped the potion bottle a little bit tighter. From his reaction, you were beginning to realize Samantha may not have been being honest with you earlier. “She said that the two of you broke up last week.”

Leander scoffed, looking absolutely taken aback. “She told you that we broke up? She told you that today? In person?” He asked, shifting his weight and shaking his head, his hand at the back of his neck in agitation.

“Did you not break up?” You ask him first, needing to know the truth before answering his other questions.

“No! We didn’t break up, we’ve never broken up!” He emphasized. “She told me she couldn’t see me this weekend because she was going to be out of town visiting her family.”

“Oh gods, I’m sorry Leander.” You say and groan, looking even more remorsefully at him than you had initially when you’d thought he’d just been through a breakup. “Yes, she told me today, in person” You said and shook your head. You were furious with Samantha for doing this to him, for lying to you, and that you were now in this position, feeling morally obligated to give him the truth.

“Let's pay for our potions and go outside, there is something else I should tell you.” You suggest, wanting to get the two of you out of the cramped shop before breaking the rest of the news to him, not wanting to bother the shopkeeper or other patrons.

“Bloody hell. Fine, let's go.” He said with a sigh and led the two of you to the counter where each of you checked out in silence before heading outside.

“What is going on MC? You’ve got my stomach in knots here. Just tell me.” He urged you as the two of you walked the cobbled street together, turning down a quieter alley off the main row of shops. He leaned his back against the brick side of one of the buildings, antsy, fidgeting with his bag after stuffing his bottle of Pepperup potion into it.

You took a deep breath, gathering your words and preparing to tell him everything he deserved to know. “She was in the flat with another man when I came home from work earlier.” You tell him, and he swore under his breath. Your own stomach was twisting, you hated being the one to break this to him. But he needed to know. He deserved better. “She was sitting in his lap when I came in. She was startled to see me, and when I left to get my potion, they went into her bedroom. I’m so sorry Leander.”

“She’s cheating.” He said softly, his head leaning back against the rough wall behind him as he let out a groan. “I appreciate you telling me. I’m glad I ran into you today.” He added, tilting his head to look down at you as you stood off to his side, leaning against the wall beside him.

You nodded. Though you didn’t see anything explicit happening, the fact that Samantha had been in the man’s lap and had lied and told you her and Leander had ended things was confirmation enough. She was doing something wrong and she knew it, and you had caught her.

“It’s a coworker of hers.” You told him. “I saw her department’s emblem on his shirt.”

He let out a huff of a chuckle at this information, staring ahead as he tried to piece this news together with thing’s Samantha had told him in the past. “She was never working late, was she? The night she stood me up. I was so worried, and she was with someone else.”

This was something you hadn’t considered, but now that he’d asked, it made all too much sense. “I don’t know, honestly. Her and I aren’t actually that close. She would never have talked to me about it, if she was seeing someone else. I’d have told you sooner if I knew.”

“Would you have?” He wondered, glancing back down at you, one of his brows raising.

You nodded. “You deserve better. That much I’ve thought for a while now.”

“Alright.” He said with finality and leveraged his body forward, stepping away from the wall. You got the feeling you’d said a bit too much for him at the current moment. You didn’t regret it though. In your opinion, he needed to hear it. “Well. I need to head home and drink this potion, and so do you.”

“Right… Sorry, again.” You offered.

“Don’t worry yourself about it MC. I’ll be fine.” He said bidding you goodbye, and apparating away before you had the chance to say anything else decidedly awkward.

You followed suit, apparating back to your flat and heading directly into your bedroom. You unlaced your boots and climbed back into bed with your bottle of Pepperup potion, uncorking the vial and downing it before laying back against your pillow. You hoped to sleep through the unpleasant side effect of steam pouring out of your ears.

~~~

The remainder of your weekend, and the next several days in your flat were tense. You’d confronted Samantha once your Pepperup potion had you feeling well again and it had gone about as well as was expected.

Samantha was unjustifiably bitter in finding out you’d told Leander everything you’d seen the day you ran into him in Diagon Alley, and you were completely unapologetic with her as she chastised you not keeping her indiscretions to yourself when you were supposed to be her friend.

She attempted to justify her own cheating with the fact you’d spent such a late evening with Leander awhile back, while she had in fact, been with another man as she missed her date night with her own boyfriend. Hearing that you’d enjoyed that evening with Leander after the fact made her feel less guilty for her actions, even though you reiterated to her that nothing had happened between the two of you. She had decided what she wanted to believe and there was no arguing with her.

Their actual break up came in the form of several letters exchanged via owl. The morning it happened, Samantha stomped angrily through the flat, grumbling to you about how she was going to be exhausted at work all day thanks to Leander sending his owl at an ungodly early hour. She blamed the bird for costing her sleep when it incessantly rapped at her window until she’d wake and take his letter. You couldn’t help but think Leander was being slightly vindictive in the timing of his owl, but you also couldn’t blame him. There was no doubt in your mind that she’d cost him sleep as well, with what she’d done to him.

Despite your relationship with Samantha being quite strained presently, you did agree to go gather her belongings from Leander’s flat for her. You could appreciate that neither of them wanted to see the other, and over the course of roughly six months, he’d apparently accumulated a good amount of her belongings. Exchanging your own letters with him, the two of you worked out an evening for you to come over. With a long list of things to collect tucked into the pocket of your coat, you spoke his address while standing in the hearth of the fireplace in your living room before dropping a handful of floo powder at your feet and disappearing in a rush of flames.

This was your first time in Leander Prewett’s flat, and you’d wished you were visiting under better circumstances. He was waiting in his living room to greet you when you stepped through his fireplace, a large cardboard box on the coffee table in the middle of the room with some of Samantha’s things already inside. The box was sitting besides a mostly empty lowball glass, still solid ice cubes being the only indicator that it had recently been full. Fire whiskey. You could smell it on his breath as he stepped towards you as you passed him the list of items Samantha expected back.

“I think I’ve gathered most of this stuff already.” He said as he read the list over, scoffing heartily as he worked his way through it. “Some of these on this list are mine! My cologne? Ridiculous, she gifted me that.”

“Really? That is awfully petty of her.”

“Isn’t it?” He agreed and shrugged his shoulders. “What’s she even want with it? Gift it to the other bloke?”

You couldn’t answer, simply shrugged as he headed out of the room and returned a moment later with the small glass bottle.

“She can have it.” He said and tossed the bottle haphazardly into the box amongst Samantha’s things. “Can I offer you a drink while you wait for me to find this stuff?”

“Oh, erm, sure. Thank you.” You said. Leander gestured for you to take a seat on his couch, which you did, while he headed into his kitchen to grab you something.

“Firewhiskey alright?” He called from the other room. “It’s what I was having, but I have-”

“Firewhiskey is fine.” You reply, cutting him off. No need for him to list all of the options when the first of them had always been a favorite if yours.

He set a fresh glass with ice down on the coffee table in front of you, and filled your glass before refilling his own.

“Cheers.” He said, picking up his glass and extending it to yours. You clinked his glass and sipped your drink, the strong cinnamon flavor warming your face immediately. He took a long swig from his own glass before setting it back down on the table with a satisfied ‘ahhh’ feeling the alcohol warming his bones.

“Let’s see, what else?” He mumbled, picking up the parchment and looking over it again. He disappeared back down the hall and into the other room, this time leaving you standing in his living room for several minutes before returning once again with what appeared to be a few shirts and some makeup. He tossed them into the box and cleared his throat. “That should be all of it.”

“Great. Thanks for taking the time to find everything.” You tell him as he folds up the top of the box, sealing it shut.

Leander took a seat on the couch beside you, picking up his glass once again and polishing it off. “I don’t usually drink like this, but this hurts, you know?” He said, gesturing to the box of his ex’s belongings on his table and picking up his bottle of firewhiskey, refilling his glass once again. The ice that had been there when you’d arrived was still present in the glass.

“I’m not judging…” You tell him, sipping again from your glass. “But maybe slow down a bit, yeah?”

“I don’t work tomorrow, I’m not worried about it.” He said, turning to flash a wide grin at you. “Maybe you should catch up.”

It didn’t take you much convincing beyond that, you had off work tomorrow as well. You shrugged your shoulders, returning his grin with a mischievous one of your own. “Ah, what the hell.” You concede, sipping more heavily from your drink, a smirk on your lips.

“That’s the spirit, MC. Live a little.” He encouraged with a chuckle, peering at you through his lashes while he tipped his drink back for another sip. “Can’t believe I’m telling you that.” He muttered.

But you did. You let yourself indulge in both the firewhiskey and in Leander’s good company. Spending time with him recently as Samantha’s boyfriend had been pleasant, but tonight was different, they weren’t together anymore. And though the evening had started as you just doing Samantha a favor by collecting her things, it was ending as the two of you spending time together because you both wanted to. You caught up to him in number of drinks over a game of wizard’s chess, sitting on the floor of his flat beside him, with the board set up on the coffee table.

You were terrible at the game, never having played it much in Hogwarts and not at all since graduating. Both of you were in stitches watching your chessmen falling to pieces on the board as Leander’s moved forward, taking control of the board. But the game didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to you right now was the way he teased you and questioned your moves before you made them; the way he leaned in towards you slightly when he spoke, looking at you with wide glassy eyes and a lazy, comfortable smile; the way nudged you playfully, teasing you for sending your chessmen to their doom or when you mistakenly tried to make illegal moves.

The game met an untimely end when you reached for the now more than half empty bottle of firewhiskey, knocking it against the board and scattering the pieces accidentally in your clumsily drunken state. This only made you laugh even harder, needing to set the bottle back down for fear of spilling it as you rolled back on the floor with tears in your eyes.

“Oh that’s rich! I think you did that intentionally because you were losing so badly.” He sarcastically scolded you. “Couldn’t handle losing to me, hm?” He teased as he picked back up the chessmen and resetting the board.

“Noo!” You denied, still laying on the floor and giggling. “In fact I demand a do over.”

“Do you, now? Do you think you can handle it? How are you going to play chess if you’re laying on the floor?” He teased, leaning back on one of his hands and looking down at you.

You shrugged your shoulders and sat back up, your cheeks red from your laughter and the alcohol alike. Leander took the liberty of refilling your glass for you. “Thank you. And yes, I can handle it. Can you handle it?”

“Oh I'm sure that I can.” He said with a wry grin. “Alright then, you’ll get your do over.”

Unsurprisingly to both of you, your second game was worse, but you were having fun. Leander couldn’t help himself from ribbing you on your moves. Any other more sober circumstance, he’d have taught you all about strategy, but neither of you were in quite the right mind for that tonight.

Paying more attention to the way Leander’s brows came together as he concentrated and how handsome his face was than the actual game itself, it was no shock to you when he’d won fairly quickly.

“Well, well, well! I’ve finally defeated the Hero of Hogwarts at something! Who’d have thought?” He teased, reveling in his win, a playful gloating tone in his voice.

“I’m certain I’ve asked you not to call me that.” You say, rolling your eyes, your cheeks sore from their grin.

“Oh, have you? I don’t recall.” He dismissed, smirking at you, resetting the board once again. “Besides, my win sounds more impressive when I use your proper title.”

“You’re insufferable.” You jest, sipping your drink, unable to wipe the grin from your face, bracing yourself for more of his teasing. Your buzzed state had you giggling preemptively.

But his mood had swung, and more teasing didn’t come. Leander’s gaze settled on the box of Samantha’s belongings on the floor beside the coffee table with a sigh. “Apparently so.”

“No, nonono. If there’s one thing we aren't doing, it’s being self depreciating.” You say firmly. “I was teasing. You aren’t insufferable at all. You’re actually quite pleasant to spend time with.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He said finishing off the last of the firewhiskey from his glass and setting it heavily back down on the table. He let out a long exhale and stared into your eyes as though searching for the truth.

“No, I mean it.” You protest, giving him a pout. “I wouldn't have stayed if I wasn’t enjoying myself.”

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it.” He said with a sigh.

“I think I could prove it.” You tell him, sounding quite sure of yourself, your lips pulling upwards into a confident little grin.

“Oh? And how exactly would you do that?” He wondered, unable to resist a little smirk at the confidence in your claim.

You didn’t reply, just leaned in towards him slowly, unsteadily. The tip of your nose brushed upwards against his, and you could feel him sharply inhale at your sudden proximity. Your eyes locked to his, looking up at him through your lashes. When he didn’t pull away, you leaned in closer, pressing your lips to his and holding the kiss for several seconds before he pulled back from you slowly, resting his forehead against yours. Leander let out a slow and shuddered breath, grounding himself and taking a moment to process what had happened.

He had a bit of a woozy looking crooked smile, and the look of it made your heart flutter. You moved a hand to the side of his face, your fingers grazing lightly along his jaw and back towards the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, your lips seeking out his again.

But he pulled away. His eyes were shut tightly, his brows knitted together, as though every inch of space he put between the two of you was more painful than the last. With the distance in the way, your hand slid away from his face, settling back on your lap, your eyes searching his as he opened them slowly.

“You’ve had too much to drink, MC.” He whispered.

You sat there in silence for what seemed like much too long, wanting with every fiber of your being to deny his statement, but in the end and with much reluctance, you nodded. It had crept up on you, but you were quite drunk. Unable to peel them away, your eyes remained on his lips after he’d spoken. You hadn’t thought about them much in the past, but after feeling how right they felt pressed to yours, the little taste you’d gotten had left you aching for more.

“MC?” He asked softly, your eyes fixed on his lips making his already rosy cheeks burn an even brighter red. You finally brought your eyes back up to meet his, letting him know you were listening. “It’s getting really late.” He said.

You let out a defeated sigh, not wanting to take the hint he was giving you. You didn’t want to leave. In the back of your mind you damned floo travel for being such a safe and easy way to travel, even while intoxicated, because you’d have grasped at any chance to stay with him in his flat right now. But no such excuse existed. “Right. You’re right. I should get going.” You said trying to bury any shred of disappointment in your voice. Deep down you knew heading back home was probably for the best.

Leander got to his feet first, steadying himself with the coffee table as he stood. He extended you his hands and you took them, easily getting hoisted up from the floor with his help.

You gathered the box of Samantha’s belongings, tucking it under your arm and against your hip, you stood in the hearth of Leander’s fireplace and he held out his bowl of floo powder for you to use to travel back home.

“Have a good night, MC.” He said as you took a handful of the black powder.

“I did.” You reply, a grin on your face, your glassy eyes giving him a final once over for the evening. “Goodnight, Leander.”

“Sleep well” He said, returning your grin with one of his own, a breath of a smirk leaving him, taking amusement in the way your hazy eyes traveled his form.

You cleared your throat, taking a moment in your mind to ensure you’d speak clearly before speaking aloud your address. You vanished from Leander’s flat in a flash of green flames, and appeared moments later back in your own, a bit more unsteady on your feet than you’d have hoped to be, you braced yourself on the sooty brick of the hearth before stepping out into your living room, where Samantha sat with a book curled up with a blanket on your sofa.

Looking far too annoyed for someone who didn’t have to go gather their own belongings, she sighed when you stumbled into the room, marking her place in her book and setting it down to relieve you of the box you were carrying.

“Is it all here?” She wondered, setting the box down on the armchair beside the fireplace and pulling the flaps open to dig through the contents.

“Leander said he got everything.” You tell her, kicking your shoes off where you stood, far too drunk to care to set them at the front door.

While Samantha went through her box, making sure all of her possessions had come home to her, you strode heavily into the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water and gulping it down quickly before returning to the living room and sprawling yourself across the sofa with a groan, completely taking over the space Samantha had previously been occupying.

She shot you a look, dumbfounded at your behavior, and you wondered whether or not she’d ever actually seen you in such a state of inebriation before.

“I was going to continue sitting there after making sure my stuff is all here.” She said, scoffing at you as she picked up the box, preparing to take it to her room. You only shrugged as she walked away, setting the box just inside her door and returning to the living room, her hands on her hips as she stared expectantly down at you.

It took her a moment of more closely watching your mannerisms, slow and unbothered, before she finally asked, “are you drunk?”

“Very.” You whine. You’d been feeling pretty good for most of the evening but now that you were laid out, your head was pounding, your several drinks had caught up with you and were making you nauseous.

“I knew there was something going on between the two of you. Ever since the other week when you let him in to wait for me, something has been up between the two of you.” Samantha said matter of factly.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes a bit too dramatically thanks to the firewhiskey in your veins. “That’s just your guilty conscience. Nothing happened when I let him in to wait on you.” You said cooly, grabbing the blanket that Samantha had been using and pulling it over your body, tucking it under your chin.

“And what about tonight?” She asked incredulously.

“Not your business.” You say with a shrug, trying to maintain a straight face, though your mind went instantly to the feeling of his lips against yours.

Samantha was so smug, shaking her head and crossing her arms across her chest. “Something happened, you are so obvious. You might not have touched him the other week but something was building. Tonight wouldn’t have happened out of nowhere. Not with him.”

“What do you care, Samantha? You were fucking your coworker while Leander was pacing our flat thinking something serious had happened to you. And nothing will ever change that fact.” You turned over on the couch with a groan, facing away from Samantha’s leering gaze. “Let me lie here. My head hurts.”

Samantha let out an exasperated huff, grabbing her book from the side table and taking it into her bedroom and slamming the door behind her, the clap of the door against the frame making your ears ring.

~~~

You didn’t know exactly when it would be coming, but you had anticipated seeing Leander’s owl at your window at some point after your time together in his flat over the weekend. So on Tuesday evening, when you were in your room changing out of your work robes after a long shift, you were not at all surprised with the rapping of talons against the glass of your window.

You’d been waiting for his letter, knowing him well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave what had happened between the two of you up in the air for long. Opening the window, you gently pulled the rolled parchment from the bird’s claws, and gave him a treat from a container you kept on your window sill for this very purpose, and the owl stayed comfortably perched at your window, seemingly waiting on your reply to carry back to Leander.

You sat on your bed to read his letter, grinning widely, your heartrate picking up at his words as you took them in. You’d been on his mind, in the same way he’d been on yours more and more frequently lately. He wanted you to meet with him, wanted to talk about the kiss you had shared. Shifting to your desk, you pulled a piece of parchment from your drawer and promptly started writing him back, agreeing to meet with him the following evening after work, as he’d requested. You sent your response back with Leander’s owl, already looking forward to seeing him tomorrow.

Leander had asked you to meet him at a park near your house at six in the evening, and you arrived promptly to find him already waiting for you on a bench near a pond. It was a pleasant evening, the early springtime giving the air a slight chill especially as the sun was setting, but your body felt warm with anticipation, your stomach turning over as you made your way to sit beside him.

He turned towards you as you slid onto the bench beside him, a grin on his face and his honey brown eyes bright in the sunset. “Hey there. How was your day?” He asked.

“Good.” You said, trying to keep buried the feeling of eagerness you were feeling in his presence. “Uneventful, which is the best kind of day working at the hospital. How was yours?”

“Also uneventful, which is also good news in my office. It went by slowly. I was looking forward to this.” He said, nodding in your direction. “To seeing you.”

This made your cheeks warm, hearing him express feelings even remotely similar to the ones you’d been letting bubble inside. “I was looking forward to seeing you, too.”

“I’m glad to hear that. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was merely the firewhiskey that had you so keen before.” He said with a smirk, but you could tell in his tone, and in the way his eyes hung on yours, he wanted the reassurance that what he said wasn’t the case.

You shook your head. “It wasn’t the firewhiskey.”

Leander let out a breath, his smirk turning into a genuine smile as he nodded, looking satisfied with your confirmation. “Seeing you last month when I brought over dinner was… well it- it brought up a lot of feelings I'd let myself forget about from back at Hogwarts…”

The more he spoke the redder your cheeks got. Though you weren’t very close back in school you still had enough fond memories with him that made you smile to think back on. You were silent, a dorky grin on your face as you listened to what he had to say.

“I had the biggest crush on you in school, did you know that?” He asked, tilting his head in wait for you to respond.

You shook your head, your cheeks still flushed. You weren’t happy to admit it, but you didn’t pay him the attention that he likely deserved in that way, back in school.

“Well I did, I thought it was obvious.” He continued. “But I didn’t think you’d ever look at me the same way. So I never dwelled on it. I let those thoughts go.” He said and took a deep breath, looking out over the pond in front of you. His hand rubbed the back of his neck and he spoke again with some hesitancy. “And then the other day you just… kissed me. Out of nowhere. I didn’t know how to respond. I don’t know why you did it or how to process it… Why’d you do it?”

“I just… I wanted to.” You admitted, your eyes flicking up to meet his, your shoulder raising in the faintest shrug. “I was having a good time with you and I wanted to.”

“But were you just trying to make me feel better about Samantha?” He wondered, fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. “Was it out of pity?”

You shook your head. “No.” You tell him definitively and pause to further gather your thoughts. You knew you had to tell him more to satisfy his questions. And he deserved your honesty. “I can’t say that I felt the same back in school, but spending time with you lately, like when we went out to the pub the other evening… I feel it now. I like you a lot, Leander.”

Leander let out a contented little huff with your words, the confirmation that he hadn’t been alone in his feelings recently seeming to brighten him from the inside out. He didn’t seem nervous now, “I like you too. And I’d like to keep spending time with you, and to see where this can go. I just… need a little time.”

You look equally pleased with his confession, your face softening with a gentle smile. “I understand. We don’t have to rush anything. But I’d like to keep spending time with you too.” You said. Taking a few moments to sit in a comfortable silence together, you take one of Leander’s hands in your own, lacing your fingers between his and holding it on your lap, your other hand tracing his knuckles gently.

~~~

Spending time together on your mutual days off from work became a priority to both you and Leander rather quickly. Neither of you were looking to rush into things, with him both wanting and needing time to process and heal from his breakup with Samantha, but it became more and more apparent to each of you while spending time together that you truly enjoyed each other's company and meshed well together. Your weekends were spent with him in his flat, becoming more proficient at wizards chess, discussing books you’d both read, and just talking. Getting to truly know him was slow going, and you found yourself silently cursing Samantha for reinforcing those walls of his as you came to realize how deeply her cheating had affected him. But you’d decided from the start that you were in this with him. He was just too sweet, too kind, too much of a gentleman not to deserve your effort and a real chance. You gave him your all and it paid off.

All of the stolen moments between the pair of you towards the end of, and immediately following Leander’s relationship with Samantha, led into a friendship that was affectionate and tender, both of you relishing in the knowledge that each of you cared deeply for the other. It was hard taking it slow with him. The urge to claim his lips with yours, to dishevil his neatly styled hair in the most passionate of kisses, nearly overwhelmed you every time you saw him. But you gave him the time he needed, and he would love you for that.

It took nearly two months before you were able to say that Leander Prewett was officially yours, but when those words were finally able to leave your lips, the time it took getting to that point was more than worth it.

You weren't home often anymore, and knowing what you were up to, what little relationship you had left with Samantha deteriorated rapidly. With every passing day, you watched the end of your rental agreement creep closer, and you took pleasure in telling Samantha you’d be finding your own flat and moving out in just a month, when the lease would be up.

You were able to find a new flat with relative ease, something smaller, since it would be solely yours, and close to St. Mungos so that you could walk to work on days when the weather would allow for it.

Leander was at your side that month later when it came time for you to move, helping you pack your belongings into the enchanted trunk you’d kept from your time in Hogwarts, and in your new flat alongside you helping you as you put things in their new places.

Magic undoubtedly made the moving process easier, but your day was still draining, both physically and emotionally. Leaving your flatmate of two years on bitter terms wasn’t something you’d anticipated at all when the two of you made the decision to move in together in the first place, but leaving felt like the right thing to do after all that had happened.

Despite being full of your own belongings, a mix of items that moved with you from your old flat and things you’d conjured with old spellcrafts you’d saved from school, you felt most at home in your new flat while laying in Leander’s arms. Sprawled out on your bed that evening as the warm light from the lampposts outside of your window spilt in through your blinds, Leander laid with his head on your chest, his weight against you making you feel comfortable and secure.

“Thank you for all of your help today.” You tell him, your fingers running through his hair gently as you held each other.

“Of course love. I wouldn’t have let you do it all on your own.” He said, nuzzling into your touch, his breath warm on your skin as he exhaled with contentment.

“Stay here with me tonight?” You suggest, kissing the top of his head.

He hummed happily and you felt him nodding against your chest. “I’ve no intention of leaving you alone on your first night in your new flat.”

“Good.” You murmur, your hands dragging softly up and down the span of his back, pulling at the hem of his top and raising it so your nails could tease along his skin, and he held you tighter.

“When you touch me like this, you make it very difficult for me not to just take you already.” Leander said quietly, the faintest groan in his throat as he cuddled against you. His fingers gripped your waist and you could almost feel his wavering restraint in the way his fingers dipped just below the waistband of your pants.

“Oh? Do I now?” You ask him, the flirtation in your voice making him even more excited. “If you’re ready, then I’m ready.”

This piqued Leander’s interest and he shifted his head up from your chest to look at you properly. “Do you mean that?” He wondered. “You want to?”

Having his eye contact made your breath catch. Your body absolutely ached for him. The longer you laid beside him, every single minute you spent in his presence, the harder it was to keep taking things slowly, the more you wished he’d make his move and tell you he was ready to take that step with you. Not that you wouldn’t continue waiting… But it was hard. “I mean it. I want you.”

Leander knew perfectly well that you had been the one waiting on him to be ready to take this step, and hearing you express out loud your desire for him made the last shreds of restraint in him vanish. His last relationship had hurt him and those wounds were only just starting to heal, but in this moment keeping himself guarded from you was a pain in and of itself, something that became more difficult to do with each passing day. He didn’t want to wait anymore. He didn’t want his past relationship to set the pace of this one anymore.

“I want you, too.” He said, leaning in towards you, his hand coming behind your head as he pulled you into a heated kiss which you eagerly returned and deepened, your tongue trailing his bottom lip before slipping into his mouth and pressing against his.

When your kiss broke Leander shifted himself up, sitting at your side as he pulled his top off over his head and tossed it onto your otherwise spotless floor. He took your hands and pulled you up beside him as well, his large hands sliding up your ribs and around your back, his nimble fingers at the buttons of your blouse before he pulled it up and off of you. His grip settled firmly on your hips, pulling you to him, you shifted onto his lap, straddling his thighs. Lips meeting passionately, your arms rest around his shoulders, fingers through his soft auburn hair as he deftly unlaced and removed your camisole. His hands palmed your chest, kneading your breasts gently, his back hunching down so that his lips could graze your neck.

Your body buzzed with anticipation that had been building in you ever since your drunken evening in his flat months ago now. You rocked your hips against his lap needily, making him groan into the crook of your neck. You felt his teeth against your skin, nipping and sucking sensually, marking you as his. “You’re driving me crazy right now, you know that?” He breathed, his lips never parting from your skin.

“Mhm,” You hum, your fingers gripping the hair at the nape of his neck and guiding his face back to yours, you lean in, languidly pressing your lips to his as his arms wrap around the small of your back, his fingertips pressing against your curves and pulling your body down against his as he sought the friction you’d given him when you’d rocked your hips.

Leaning forward against you, Leander guided you off of his lap and onto your back against your mattress. He slid from the edge of your bed, his eyes wide and longing as they took in the sight of you while his hands were at his belt, unclasping it and sliding his trousers and undergarments off. You bit your lip as you watched thoroughly enticed by the heat of his gaze and his body. You giggled when he took you by your legs, just below your knees, and pulled you to the edge of the bed towards him, where he unlaced your pants with a smirk and tugged at your pant legs, pulling them and your knickers off of you with help from a wiggle of your hips.

His broad, muscular shoulders looked so good flexing as he dipped his head down, kneeling on the bedroom floor between your parted legs as they rest against his shoulders over the side of the bed. He kissed up one of your legs, then slowly down the other, seemingly mercilessly skipping over spots in which you wanted his lips most of all. It would have been teasing if it was anyone else, but Leander Prewett wasn’t a tease. He savored and loved on you with a genuine appreciation for you and your body and for the opportunity he had to touch you so intimately.

Working you up and making you needy beyond comprehension for him was just a side effect of his attention to your every detail.

Hearing you whine and feeling goosebumps rise beneath his lips as they traced your inner thighs only reinforce his feeling that he was doing his job properly. Slowly, he kissed his way to your center, his tongue so soft and warm between your thighs. Your breath quickened as his tongue flitted against your clit, your fists gripping your bedding as he sucked at you. You felt heat radiating from your center as he worked you, lapping at you fervently, soft moans and hums coming from his lips as though he was savoring his favorite dessert.

Your breath only got sharper when you felt his long fingers rubbing against you below his tongue, grazing against you gently as he slickened them up with your arousal before slipping them carefully into your body. You moaned out his name and you could feel him grinning against your body at the sound of hearing your voice, so sweet and delicious as you called out for him.

Leander beckoned his fingers inside of you, his long digits rubbing that sensitive spot so expertly and making your back arch up off the bed and your legs tense against his shoulders.

Not wanting to part his lips from your body to speak for even a moment, Leander’s free hand found one of yours and laid over it, squeezing your palm affectionately. You gripped at his fingers tightly as you had been to your bedding, clutching onto him while your body writhed through the radiating ecstasy of the climax he brought about you.

Your breath was a shaky exhale of expletives and moans as you released against his fingers and tongue, panting still as he withdrew his fingers and leaned up over you, kissing his way up your body to your neck.

“You sound so lovely like that.” He whispered, his lips against your ear taking your lobe between his teeth playfully, nipping at it gently before pressing a kiss to your neck.

You were lost for words, wanting him desperately, your core still throbbing from the faintest touches of his body against yours as he leaned over you. Leander nudged you gently and nodded, gesturing for you to move back from the edge of the bed, and so you did, shifting to lay against your pillow, Leander crawled onto the bed overtop you, parting your legs with his knees and settling himself between them.

Your heart was still hammering away in your chest, but you felt a sense of calm as Leander laid over you, something you always felt in his presence. The tender way in which he loved you was comforting, no matter the intense feelings he’d brought upon your body.

Supporting himself on his elbows, Leander’s hands cradled your face as he kissed you breathless, his hips grinding against yours, you could feel the twitch of his arousal so eagerly nudging between your thighs. “Are you ready, love? Can I?” He asked, peppering your neck in kisses as you nodded eagerly.

“Please.” You murmur, your hands moving to his face and guiding his forehead to rest against yours.

Leander let out a deep breath, kissing your lips softly as one of his hands slipped between your bodies, adjusting himself to align with your slick and still very sensitive core, before finally pressing into you gently with a moan. Your breath hitched as you stared up into his eyes, the soft way he looked back at you as your body enveloped him had you completely transfixed. You adored him, and the look on his face, the way he held you so tenderly as he rolled his hips against yours, told you everything you wanted to know about how he felt in return.

You wrapped your legs around him, wanting to feel his body with every inch of your skin, wanting to hold him as closely to you as possible. Your arms clung around his shoulders, fingers trailing his back, you pulled him closer still, feeling his nose and lips drag along your cheek before settling against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he panted with his efforts, rutting into you.

Your head lolled back, neck outstretched on your pillow for his lips to travel along. You let out a breathy moan, your grip tightening around his back, the way he hit that spot just right as with every hungry thrust of his hips had heat building deep within you, pressure building as his movements became more frantic and desperate, the sounds of his shuddered breathing telling you that he was right there with you.

Your back arched and your legs around his back gripped him as your muscles tightened. Your insides pulsing and clenching around him as he brought you to another climax made him whine your name against your neck. He chased his own release, body trembling overtop yours as he thrust again and again. Feeling his release approaching, he pressed into you with everything he had, his forehead resting against yours once again, gazing intently into your eyes he spilt inside of you with a low groan.

Sweating now and totally spent, Leander let his body relax overtop of yours, the weight of him over you a comforting and secure feeling you could get very used to. Catching your breath together, your fingers worked back into his hair, running through the strands affectionately, you turned your head to kiss his face.

Leander hummed in satisfaction at your affection for him, and shifted himself slightly ro return your kiss. “Was it worth the wait?” He asked you, his voice low relaxed now, he nuzzled his face close to yours.

“Worth every single moment.” You assured him, closing your eyes in your own total satisfaction.

You couldn’t have imagined a more perfect evening in your new flat, and knowing that you wouldn’t be waking up alone in the morning made it even sweeter. You were his and he was yours, and it was worth the wait. Worth the road it took to get here. If this was how perfectly content you were with him already, you couldn’t wait to see what your futures together held.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fan fiction #leander prewett fanfiction #leander prewett #samantha dale #leander prewett x mc #leander prewett x reader #leander prewett x you

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claireelizabeth85 · 27 days

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Come home to me - part 1

This is my first John Egan fic. It's a bit of an unusual take but please bear with me. I kind of know where this is going but I need to see where my John Egan infected brain is leading me!!

John Egan x OC Female!Reader Summary: When the idea of a past life isn't just an idea or something that is only for dreams. Warnings: mentions of injury, blood, possible military inaccuracies (but I am a geek, so I've tried to do my research!)

Please let me know what you think, either in the comments or if you would prefer, shoot me a message.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lizzy had been haunted by nightmares from the past, reliving the harrowing experiences of flying during the war. These nightmares had been intensifying lately, becoming increasingly vivid and distressing.

“Red flare. I see a red flare. Get the ambulances ready!”

“Lizzy! Wake up!” Sarah's urgent voice jolted Lizzy from her torment.

“How many came back?” Lizzy's voice trembled as she regained consciousness, her eyes searching for reassurance.

“Sarah?” Lizzy blinked, disoriented, as she scanned the room. Her best friend and flatmate, Sarah, was perched on the edge of the bed, concern etched across her face.

“You were dreaming again! What happened this time?” Sarah's voice was gentle, yet filled with concern.

“There was another mission, another run and we lost…” Lizzy's voice trailed off, haunted by the memories of loss and tragedy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me! These dreams… they feel so real. It's like... when I sleep, I'm transported back to those moments. But now, being awake... I feel lost.”

Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Lizzy headed for the bathroom, her mind still reeling from the lingering echoes of her nightmares. “Am I crazy?” She asked, her voice tinged with desperation.

Leaning against the door frame, Sarah tried to offer comfort through the closed door. “Are you crazy? No. These are just dreams. Look, I’ve been doing some reading - you know, to see if I can help. There are stories of young children, even as young as 3 or 4 years old, who have vivid memories of events they shouldn't remember. Like planes crashing and finding fallen soldiers. Perhaps your dreams are something similar.”

“But this feels different, Sarah. They’re not just dreams, they feel like memories... I feel like I know those people. I remember the roar of the planes, the mix of love and fear for them. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Please tell me I’m not” Lizzy's voice wavered with uncertainty, her eyes pleading for understanding.

Sarah couldn’t bear to see her friend in such distress. “I’ll tell you what, let’s go.”

Lizzy yanked open the bathroom door, toothbrush hanging from her mouth, staring at Sarah as though she had suggested something absurd.

“What?”

“Let’s go. Let’s get in the car and go wherever you feel drawn to. I'm not saying you're crazy, but if it helps you cope, we'll go.” Lizzy's embrace was tight, grateful for even the smallest gesture of acceptance from her friend. She might not find all the answers, but at least Sarah was willing to try.

As Lizzy stared at herself in the mirror, toothbrush in hand, she couldn't help but notice a faint scar in her hairline. Its presence seemed to defy explanation, appearing suddenly in the same spot she had dreamt of being injured. Closing her eyes, she was transported back to the aftermath of another intense bombing run. The memories flooded her senses, overwhelming her with vivid recollections.

The acrid scent of aviation fuel filled her nostrils as she sat on the tarmac, the chaos of the scene unfolding around her. The cacophony of voices, the urgent shouts for medical assistance, all merged into a disorienting symphony of noise. Trembling with adrenaline and pain, she clutched an untouched cigarette in her fingers, her shoulder and head throbbing from the injuries sustained. In that moment, she felt disconnected from reality, a bystander in her own body as she was ushered into a waiting ambulance and whisked away to the infirmary.

Lizzy could hear his footsteps before he came rushing through the double doors. His voice cut through the chaos of the infirmary.

"Lizzy!" Concern etched across his features as John hurried to her side, disregarding the calls of the on-duty Matron. Reaching her bed, he exhaled in relief at the sight of her safe and conscious.

"You scared the shit out of me!" John's concern melted into teasing as he observed Lizzy, still in her white tank top with her flight suit folded at her hips. She chuckled, a mix of amusement and discomfort, as the nurse tended to her shoulder.

"Have to keep you on your toes, Major. Can't make things easy for you!" Lizzy retorted, her tone playful despite the pain. However, John's expression grew serious as he gently grasped her hand. "You weren't supposed to be up there. DeMarco should have been on that mission, not you," he murmured, his voice tinged with concern.

She flinched as the nurse finished the sutures. Collecting her equipment, she coughed quietly to get their attention. "You have 10 minutes Lizzy and then the Matron is going to come looking for the Major." Giving her thanks, the nurse drew the curtain, leaving her alone with John.

He gently brushed stray hair away from her face, his touch comforting as he cleaned away the blood. Lizzy winced when he caught the graze in her hairline.

“Benny is still recovering from the last run and I’m just as good of a pilot as any of you boys. So, I spoke to Chick and he said yes.” Lizzy’s words carried a hint of defiance, tempered by the vulnerability in her eyes. John held her face with both his hands, looking into her blue eyes, committing every freckle and now scar to memory.

“You mean you told Chick you were flying and left before he could say no.” John whispered, a playful smirk dancing on his lips.

"I would never presume to tell a senior officer what to do!" Lizzy feigned innocence, her tone laced with playful sarcasm.

“Is that so, Lieutenant?" John whispered with a sly grin. "Well, I know for a fact you're not shy about giving orders to senior officers. If memory serves me right, you were quite commanding the other weekend, telling me to do all sorts of things..." Lizzy pressed a finger to his lips, a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, as she stifled his words. A soft chuckle escaped John's lips as he noticed the delicate pink blush spreading across her cheeks. John’s mischievous tone faltered, replaced by a sombre frown as he voiced his fears.

“Liz, I can’t… I can’t lose you. I won’t get through this if you…” Lizzy placed a finger back against his lips and gently hushed him. “I’m alright John. I’m here, I came back, just like I promised.”

#john egan fanfic #john egan #john bucky egan #john egan fic #john egan fanfiction #john bucky egan x reader #john egan x female reader #john egan x oc #masters of the air fic #MoTA

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chameleon221b · 1 year

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*WARNING: LONG RANT ABOUT SHERLOCK

Let’s talk TGG, like… imagine you’re John. You’re an exhausted army doctor who’s been treating probably the flu all day, and you bike home or take a cab. You’re ready to eat and maybe watch some telly and crash into bed.

But no. You get home, and there are fricken gunshots ringing out. Oh my God! Is your flatmate in danger? Is he shooting someone? Yes. He is… but not someone. A wall. He’s shooting a wall which for someone reason had it coming. You’re glad Sherlock doesn’t fight to give you the gun. Maybe it’ll look up from here. Ya lock the British Army Browning L9A1 in the safe, and you realize for the millionth time that your flatmate is mad but you’ve kinda ceased to care.

Then woah! The table is a mess. You’re not cleaning that up. You’ll eat in the armchair. But eat what? That is the question. Sherlock probably didn’t cook or get takeout or shop, or even eat, but you ask him anyway. It’s a kinda rhetorical question.

Without a suspicion you open the fridge and WHAT IN THE GILES?!

You shut it quickly. You might faint. Is it PTSD? A hallucination? Real? You summon courage and yank the door open, and yes, it’s a real head. You shut the door like you’re dreaming. Like what did I just see? You forgot you’re even hungry. Sherlock acts like it’s a perfectly normal thing to do! Then you remember he’s mad and you’re kinda over it. It is what it is. You’re tired.

Then you get a rant from Sherlock who’s acting like a five-year-old because you stated literal facts, how he’s ignorant about stuff he doesn’t care about which he proves in said rant. You wrote about your first case, and the only thing he can’t argue with is the clever title.

That’s it. You’re done for tonight. Fudge it. And Sherlock even has the audacity to ask where you’re going like… You’re not even gonna explain now. The emotional intelligence translator needs a vacation.

And… woah. John didn’t even eat anymore. Imagine being him. I cannot further to can 🤦🏼‍♀️ 😂 Dude just wanted to get home and eat and then sleep. But there were gunshots, chemicals, severed heads, and a mad 5-year-old who’s insulted for an inane reason. Being Sherlock’s flatmate is hard 🤌🏻

Extra details:

That yellow spray paint can on the table from the Blind Banker is there too (and an paper file container tied with a string probably full of old case notes). Imagine in his boredom Sherlock was like, “Let’s paint a smiley face so it can annoy me because I don’t have a case”, which is probably why the wall had it coming 😂 Don’t smile at Sherlock Holmes when he’s bored, even if you’re just a bloody wall!! 🤦🏼‍♀️

Ooh, and before Sherlock mentions the Vermeer painting in the middle of the episode, you can see him reading the pamphlet about The Lost Vermeer while he’s arguing with John. Just thought it was a cool detail.

And set analysis:

And this ⬇️

Like… that table looks sus. There’s a weird yellow liquid. A bread from a bakery, the purple thing. Experiment? Or quick bite to eat while you handling literal chemicals? And then there’s a book… probably with obscure knowledge on the 100,027 different types of mold. And what is leaning against the window?

1. Big ass beaker.

2. Another beaker that contains with an umbrella and/or an old spraying device.

3. A fricken dead plant in a small clay vase in a bigger clay vase.

4. A big weird red cup.

And

5. I think I found where the rum’s gone because what else could that bottle be other than a vintage bottle of rum with a dusty wax covering?

The set is cozy but also fricken eccentric 🤣 I can’t. It’s like Sherlock hoards random objects and/or souvenirs that only he knows why he keeps.

That’s it. That’s the rant. I’m done. I’ll eat pasta now and think about how John said, “Anything in? I’m starving.” followed by “severed head!” and Sherlock just replied, “Just tea for me thanks.” Like, “No bloody severed head for dinner, just tea.” 😁🥸😐

#bbc sherlock #sherlock #i am sherlocked #sherlockbbc #sherlock holmes #sherlocked #sherlock fandom #wtf lmao #seriously wtf #literally wtf #wtf

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pettyrevenge-base · 2 days

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I let my flatmate shit themselves which ultimately led to their eviction.

This was around 15 years ago. I had a flatmate let’s call her Julie who was always crying poor and never paid bills on time etc..she then announces she’s headed to Bali for a week, I said before you go are you going to give me the money you owe me for her part of our utility bills?, she said when she gets back. I’m livid so off she goes. On the last day she messages me and tells me she’s got Bali belly and had diarrhoea all day and worried about the flight home. She also informs me she is broke and could I pay for her taxi home (around $100) from the airport as she’s worried about taking public transport back in case her stomach is still upset. I told her I would be working and not home to pay for her taxi. She says fine she’ll ask one of her friends she’s on holiday with to give her the money. Then she informs me she didn’t take her house keys with her and could I leave them hidden somewhere so she could get into the house when she gets home. I don’t reply but I assume she thinks I will. Anyway I wasn’t really working so I hid in my bedroom and i could see the front entrance from my bedroom upstairs and peak out the window, I watch her drive up and exit the taxi, she couldn’t locate keys so starts trying all different ways to get in. I had prepared and made sure every access point was locked up. She starts calling my phone which i ignore. I can hear her swearing and then she’s doubled over and before I know it she’s shitting herself. She’s in a denim skirt and it’s runny.

Now I’ll be honest I was not quite expecting her shitting on our doorstep, I was more thinking she’d freak out and have to sit outside all day till I came home but this was a far more perfect outcome. I only wish I could have filmed it.

She is horrified but changes into something from her luggage and hides her soiled clothes and suitcase in a bush in the front yard and takes off down the street. I take hat opportunity to leave the house and on my way out whilst gagging I placed her soiled clothes inside her suitcase.

A few hrs later I finally call her back pretending to be on my lunch break and she’s screaming down the phone blaming me for not leaving out her keys and that she’s been sitting outside for hours and begging me to come home to let her in.

I said sorry I have to still finish work and have plans this evening and she’d have to either call a locksmith or wait till I get home. She said I can taxi over my keys to her which I refuse. She hangs up and then I treat myself to 2 x movies at the cinema and a nice dinner.

I get home later that evening and she’s broken a window to get in. The next morning I contact the landlord and tell them what she did. As we paid rent individually and they always had issues with her late rent they said they would look at evicting her as they’d had enough too. She doesn’t speak to me at all and a few weeks later I’m informed via the landlord she’s moving out.

We never speak again I’m pretty sure she tells the story as me being a psycho flatmate which I’m happy to wear that badge proudly.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

#pettyrevenge #lol #omg

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canirove · 1 year

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Rúben Dias Imagine | one | Christmas Edition 🎄✨

Masterlist

*Female reader/pov

"And done with the Hale's, we only have two people left. The Robert's and him."

"I'll do the Robert's!"

"No, no, no. We'll decide it with rock, paper, scissors. Best of three."

"Ok. Ready?"

"Ready" I say. "Rock, paper, scissors..."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath and ringing the bell. "It's gonna be ok. He may not even be home. He'll probably be somewhere being rude to someone or... Jesus, Mary and Joseph" I say when the door opens and I find myself looking at man's torso. One with perfect pectorals and perfect abs.

"Hello? Hey. Hey!" he says, clapping in front of my face.

"Careful there, that was my nose!" I say, taking a step back.

"It's not my fault that you weren't answering. What do you want?"

"There is no need to be that rude" I say, finally looking up from his chest and to his face. Which is a mistake. He's looking at me in a way that feels like he is staring into my soul, and his hair... His hair looks so fluffy and messy and as if he had been... Oh. OH! "I better go, you were clearly busy with someone."

"I what?" he chuckles.

"Yeah, you... You know."

"I don't know, no" he says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning into the door's frame, his biceps showing in all their glory.

"Jesus Christ."

"Didn't know you were so religious."

"Shut up. I have to go."

"Already? Why did you come?"

"I came to bring you some Christmas cookies. My flatmate and I have this tradition of baking cookies for our neighbours after making too many a few years ago and not knowing what to do with them."

"And you aren't giving me mine?"

"You are busy. And you don't look like the type of guy who eats cookies" I shrug, my eyes still fixed on his arms.

"I'm not busy, I was just working out. And I eat cookies. Sometimes."

"Wait, you were working out?"

"Yes. What did you think I was doing?" he asks with a smirk.

"Nothing, forget about it."

"Nothing? I'm pretty sure you said I was with someone, and I can imagine what you thought we were doing. It's a type of work out I also enjoy a lot in case you are interested."

"And why would I be interested on that?" I say with a nervous laugh.

"Because you haven't been able to stop looking at my body?" he says, arching a brow. "And your face is as red as that ugly jumper you are wearing."

"Well, you opened the door half naked. It's impossible to not look at you, and you know it. And this jumper isn't ugly."

"I beg to differ. I'm sure that what is underneath it is much better" he smirks.

"I... You..."

"Just stating facts. Anyway, am I getting my cookies or not?"

"You don't deserve them for being rude."

"And if I made you a cup of tea? C'mon" he says, finally moving from the door's frame and walking into his apartment. "Are you coming or not?"

"Fine" I say, following him.

"Close the door, please."

"Oh, wow, you know the word please? And is that a Christmas tree?"

"Ha, ha. You are so funny. And yes, it is. Why so surprised?"

"I don't know. I expected you to be the Grinch or something" I shrug.

"You wound me" he says from behind the kitchen isle, putting a hand on his chest. His toned and perfect chest. "What type of tea do you like?"

"Black."

"Like my soul?" he says with a teasing smile.

"Exactly" I reply, also smiling. "What about you?"

"I don't like tea" he says, putting the kettle on.

"You what?"

"I just don't" he shrugs, the muscles on his back moving in a way that makes me feel... Things. "Milk?"

"Yes, please."

"And sugar? You look like a sugar girl."

"What does that mean?"

"Making cookies for your neighbours during Christmas? That's what a sweet girl does."

"One thing doesn't have to be related to the other."

"So no sugar?" he asks, opening a cabinet and a picking a mug. A Christmas mug.

"Two spoons."

"See? A sweet girl" he smirks.

"Whatever."

"There you have, my lady. Is it good?" he asks.

"For someone who doesn't like tea, it is really good, yeah. Congratulations."

"Thank you. Though I usually make the tea after, not before having sex" he says, making me choke with my tea and spill it all over my jumper. "You are gonna have to take it off, now."

"What?"

"Your jumper. Do you need help?"

"I can do it myself, thank you."

"And I was right again. What you were hiding under that ugly thing is way better" he says, his eyes fixed on my chest. I'm just wearing a thin tank top and no bra, the jumper being so thick that I didn't need anything else.

"Can you please stop looking at my boobs?"

"You did it first" he says with that stupid smirk of his. "Your shoulders are beautiful, by the way."

"What?" I say while watching him walk towards me.

"Your shoulders. And your collar bones. They are so beautiful."

"Thank you?" I say, my voice shaking a bit. He is now standing in front of me, and very close. Too close.

"May I touch them?"

"Ok?" I say.

The moment his finger touches my skin, I hear myself gasping, my skin burning as he follows the shape of my collar bone all the way to my shoulder.

"Don't bite your lip."

"Uh?"

"You are biting your lip" he says as his fingers move down my arm. "Don't do it."

"Why?" I chuckle.

"Because it turns me on" he says, his eyes meeting mine and, again, making me feel as if he is staring into my soul.

"I'm sorry, but I don't have control over it, it just happens."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying."

"You are. You are biting your lip because you fear you may moan if I keep touching you."

"That's stupid."

"Liar" he says again, moving a bit closer. "But if you want to play that game..."

"What game?"

"I touch you, you try not to moan, and we'll see who wins. Are you in?"

"I'm in" I gulp, knowing perfectly well I am going to lose.

"We haven't specified if I can touch just with my fingers or something else, so..." he says before kissing my neck, making me grab the kitchen isle when I feel my knees threatening to give in.

But he doesn't stop there. He keeps kissing me, sometimes biting my skin, going down to my shoulder and back up to my neck. So far I am resisting, definitely biting my lip to not lose this stupid game. Though it is hard, really hard. Especially when he moves even closer and I can feel his chest against mine. That small touch, mixed with another kiss on my neck, is what undoes me. I can't resist it anymore, and I let out a moan.

"I win" he says against my skin, kissing my shoulder one last time before lifting his head and looking at me. "Do I deserve those cookies now?"

"They are all yours."

"Thank you" he smiles. "But you know... Right now I'm the mood to eat other things."

"An avocado toast?" I say, making him laugh.

"I was thinking about eating this" he says, brushing his lips against mine. "And then this" he continues, one of his hands leaving the kitchen isle and moving to my chest, his thumb barely touching over my nipple and making me moan again. "And then..." he says, that same hand moving down my stomach and stopping at the hem of my leggings. "May I show you what I want to eat next?"

"Yes" I whisper.

"Then I want to eat this."

"Rúben" I moan when I feel his fingers touching me, definitely biting my lip as I try to stay still.

"That's the first time you've said my name."

"Is it?"

"It is" he says, still moving his fingers. "Say it again."

"I... Fuck."

"Yes, we are going to do that. But first I want to hear you say my name. Just once."

"I... I..."

"If you don't, I'll stop."

"Make me say it, then" I dare him.

"You asked for it" he says, stopping as he said he would, but moving his hands back to the hem of leggings, pulling them down with my knickers before picking me up in a swift move and sitting me on the kitchen isle. "My plan was to eat this last, but..." he says as he sits on one of the chairs, lifting one of my legs, putting it on his shoulder and starting to leave kisses on my inner thigh.

"Just stop teasing me and do it, Rúben."

"That's not how I wanted to hear you say my name."

"Jesus" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Wrong man" he chuckles.

"I think I'm taking back my cookies."

"Ok, ok" he says, leaving one last kiss on my inner thigh before finally doing what we both wanted, and making me moan his name not long after.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Are you sure you don't want one?"

"Nah, I'm fine."

"Your loss" I shrug, giving my cookie another bite. "You've earned them, you know?"

"I know" Rúben chuckles. "But I prefer eating them from you."

"What?"

"Here" he says, picking a cookie crumb from my chest and eating it. "So good."

"Then eat the whole thing."

"You or the cookie?" he asks with a cheeky smile.

"First the cookie, then me. That way you will burn all the calories."

"Sounds like a plan. Where is the box?"

"Here" I say, picking it from the floor. "You are sleeping with cookies tonight" I laugh when he grabs one and it breaks in half, leaving crumbs all over the sheets.

"I thought I was going to sleep with you."

"Maybe. Though my flatmate probably is already wondering where I am."

"Tell her that the rude neighbour ate one of your cookies, he became the most charming man in the building, and you couldn't resist him. It was a Christmas miracle" Rúben says, eating half the cookie in one go.

"And then I had to save his life because he almost choked with one. Easy, boy" I laugh.

"You may have to save my life, yes. I need some mouth to mouth."

"Really?"

"Really" he says, laying on the bed. "I'm dying."

"Ok then" I say, moving to be on top of him and kissing him.

"Not enough, I'm still dying."

"Urgh" I say, kissing him again with more passion. "Now?"

"Much better. Thank you for saving my life, neighbour" he smiles, putting a lock of hair behind my ear.

"You're welcome, neighbour. It is your Christmas present."

"Best present ever" he says before kissing me again, that kiss being the first of many more.

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fanfic #ruben dias x reader #football imagine #football fanfic #rubenimagine

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final-girl96 · 1 year

Text

Joseph Quinn’s upside-down year

He’s gone from hustling for bit parts to playing a beloved character in one of the biggest shows on TV, thirsted after by fans and fellow celebrities alike. Inside the surreal year of 2022’s buzziest British breakout

By Jack King

5 December 2022

Coat, £1,970, Jil Sander by Lucie and Luke Meier. T-shirt, £7.90, Uniqlo. Hat, £325, Lock & Co. Hatters.Ben Parks

When Joseph Quinn took the call that would come to change his life for good, he was standing in his kitchen in South London. His agent was on the other end of the phone. “He called me, like, ‘Who’s that?’ And I was like, ‘What do you mean?’ So he goes, ‘I’m sorry, is that Eddie from Stranger Things?’” Quinn recalls. “I literally fell to my knees. Like, What? Are you sure? It felt like it’d just fallen out of the fucking sky.” It was November 2019. Only three weeks prior, in the very same flat, he’d recorded his first self-tape for the hit Netflix series with the help of his then-girlfriend and flatmate. “Obviously, at that point, I’m just fucking suspicious about the whole thing. This never happens. And here we are.”

Flash forward to today: after storming into the public consciousness as the sci-fi throwback’s latest anointed breakout, starring as punkish pariah Eddie Munson in Stranger Things series four, the 28-year-old has just flown out to LA for the third time in his what-the-fuck year. It’s a rhythm he’s still very much getting used to. Resultantly, we’re chatting over Zoom, myself in London’s Mile End, a short swim down the Thames from the unassuming world of his adolescence. “I love South London. I still live there – you get accused of heresy if you leave,” he jokes. “I might want to branch out somewhere different, because you don’t want to feel stagnant. But my life’s there: I went to school there, it’s where I met all of my friends.”

Jacket, £1,400 and trousers, £725, Etro. Shirt, £99, Boss. Boots, £1,750, Dior. Ben Parks

He scored his first job, on the 2015 TV drama Dickensian, in his third year at LAMDA (“I was a jammy fucker,” he says), the hallowed Hammersmith drama school where British acting royalty – Cumberbatch, Cox, Ejiofor – cut their teeth. It was while he was in his graduating class, in fact, that he met Fabien Frankel, then a first year, now enjoying his own rise apropos of the Game of Thrones spin-off House of the Dragon.

“It’s fucking hilarious,” Quinn says of Frankel’s new-found stardom. “We’ve shared similar anxieties about the ridiculousness of our situations.” The two are good friends; Frankel, for his part, brims with praise. “As much as it pains me to say, he was always just a brilliant actor,” he says of Quinn. “There was always some magic on stage. Sadly we’ve never got to work together, but we’ve always stayed close.”

Quinn’s early luck with Dickensian, as it turns out, was a touch premature; after that show ran its course, Quinn didn’t work for nearly a year. But an influx of parts eventually came his way: first a gig as a Stark soldier in an episode of Game of Thrones, then, suddenly, a job on stage opposite Olivia Colman at the National Theatre. “He is utterly joyful, naughty, and fun,” Colman says of Quinn. “He puts the work in. You know you’re in safe hands.”

Coat, £3,200, shirt, £1,950 and trousers, £1,300, Prada. Shoes, £980, Church’s. Ben Parks

A steady trickle of work followed: BBC’s Howards End mini series, opposite Matthew Macfadyen; as the tragic revolutionary Enjolras in the Beeb’s not-a-musical adaptation of Les Mis, reuniting with Colman; under Steve McQueen in the first part of his critically acclaimed anthology film series, Small Axe. “I’ve been so lucky that I’ve not had to graft, and wait tables, and do the traditional catering jobs in between to keep the lights on,” Quinn says. “I’ve been fortunate enough, and savvy enough with my money just about, when things are looking a bit bleak, to book another gig. And that keeps the wolves from the door.” It was around the time of the London Film Festival premiere of his first major indie film, the psychosexual slow-burner Make Up, that he sent in his Stranger Things audition tape.

A few days after the call came in, he met the sibling duo who puppeteer Stranger Things, the Duffer brothers, over Skype. “They were very nice, and very kind,” Quinn remembers. “I was very disarmed by the whole thing. Kind of like, ‘Are you sure?’ And they said, ‘Yeah, we really want you to do it.’” In total, 287 actors read for the part, according to the Duffers, who describe the process as one of the longest casting searches they’ve ever had. “At one point, we remember getting nervous,” they say. Munson was abrasive and unlikeable on the page; they needed him to be lovable, without wanting to be loved. That confluence of traits seemed an impossible bullseye, until Quinn’s reels arrived. “Joe was hilarious and charming, but with an unpredictable, wild edge about him,” they recall. It was a no-brainer. The call was a formality. “He’s a director’s dream because he takes what’s on the page and sprints with it.”

Blazer, £2,360, and shirt, £500, Gucci. Ben Parks

Quinn’s anecdotes from those early days are cut with the sincere self-deprecation you might expect of a guy still scrambling to catch up with his own ascent. This is the stuff that Faustian bargains are made of, after all: over a billion hours’ worth of Stranger Things series four was watched within the first month of release. That’s a lot of eyeballs. “I was talking to Dan Cohen, the [executive] producer of Stranger Things, about it,” he says. “He talked about the over-nightness of these experiences now, with these streaming platforms. One moment you’re fine, and then it drops. It’s on in millions and millions of houses. After that, it just kind of snowballs.”

The first table read came next. “It was a very weird experience. I was sat next to the lovely Jamie Campbell Bower, who’s had experience in these bigger shows before,” he remembers. “Obviously, because everything has to be documented on this show, they were filming the table read to keep the fans satiated. The setup was that the pre-existing cast were on a very long table, and we were behind them, being kept secret from the cameras. We were shouting, delivering the lines to the back of the cast’s heads, which felt very odd.” Both he and Campbell Bower, as Quinn recalls, were “shitting it”. Following that, he had weeks of fittings, kitting him out in the idiosyncratic metalhead threads that form Munson’s outcast armour. He had his first day of shooting, and then… whiplash. “[Stranger Things co-director] Shawn Levy came out at the end of the day and said we’re going into… a lockdown of some kind,” he says. “A hiatus of two weeks. Which would’ve been nice.” It would be another six months before Quinn returned to set.

Shirt, £500, Gucci. Trousers, £924 and loafers, £650, Dolce & Gabbana. Ben Parks

What felt to him like a decade later, the show finally bowed to the masses. He watched the Stranger Things series four finale, wherein Munson goes out with self-sacrificial aplomb, with his little sister, dad, and his dad’s wife. Do they treat him differently now? “No, definitely within your immediate circle you hope nothing changes. It’s a very weird thing to comment on… [if] you take into consideration the actual fucking fresh hell that people are going through now, it feels like an arbitrary thing to feel threatened by,” he says. “Eighty per cent of it is amazing. Professionally, 100 per cent is amazing. 20 per cent of it is… fucking bizarre.”

Somewhere within that 20 per cent: the online drama between co-star Noah Schnapp and Doja Cat soon after the season aired, when the former publicly shared a DM from the rapper asking Schnapp to play Cupid between her and Quinn. “I’m kind of hesitant to talk about it really, because I didn’t do anything,” Quinn notes. “It’s not something that I put out into the world. But I do think she’s an incredible artist. It’s flattering.” This intrusive level of public scrutiny obviously comes part and parcel with sudden, incandescent fame. The tyranny of Instagram gossip and fans reading telescopic paparazzi photos like tea leaves are the unfortunate by-products of being at the top of the screen-acting game. Nevertheless, it must be difficult to adjust to. “People will weave narratives about you that aren’t true, I guess,” he says. “And I think accepting your powerlessness over that [is best]. If you’re going to correct people constantly, you’re going to end up exhausted.”

Blazer, £2,360, shirt, £500, trousers, £890 and boots, £1,230, Gucci. Ben Parks

But being famous, a term he loathes to use for himself, isn’t all bad. Take the sudden groundswell of cultish Munsonmania, perhaps no better demonstrated than at London Film and Comic Con this summer. “It was the first time I’d ever encountered the fandom,” he recalls. There were rumours that Quinn was “mistreated” by the staff during a meet and greet, blindsided by the sheer number of Munsonites, but he was quick to debunk them, a point he reiterates now. “It was very overwhelming. I don’t think the Con were prepared for the numbers. I certainly wasn’t.” In a viral video widely shared online at the time, a fan expressed their impassioned gratitude: for Quinn’s time at the Con, for bringing Munson to life. Quinn seemed emotionally overwhelmed, dabbing away tears with the inside of his elbow, barely conjuring a murmur. An outsider might conclude this to be the moment that the pin dropped. “I don’t want to sound too saccharine about it, but it is moving,” he says. “If you have a curiosity about people and storytelling, for a character you’ve created with the help of others… for that to resonate with people, it feels very profound, you know?”

And then there are the holy-shit moments. First up: in late July, he made his chat-show debut on Jimmy Fallon, though that came within a whisker of being cancelled. “I was sick before I went on,” he says. “I stupidly had oysters for lunch on the day, thinking that I needed some vigour and vitality and that’d get me through it.” Turns out his mind was playing tricks: that stir in the pit of his gut was the product of acute anxiety, per the show’s backstage nurse. But he still went on. He met Kevin Hart, “a consummate pro,” in the green room backstage. “The nerves just bounce off him, I think, whereas they were just leaving bullet holes in me,” Quinn says. A month before our interview, he was named one of Variety’s 10 Actors to Watch for 2022. Patton Oswalt introduced himself to Quinn at the swanky brunch coronation thereafter. “He just feels so many miles away from my life. For him to come up to me was very weird.”

Jumper, £1,050 and shirt, £680, Dior. Ben Parks

Stratospheric parts like Eddie Munson are a “lottery ticket,” as Quinn puts it. And at the end of it all, he’s effectively coming away with a blank check. Is he going to put his energy into indie roles, like the drama he finished shooting over the summer, Hoard, or is he marching up to the Broccolis to demand Bond? “Yeah, I’ve just got off a Zoom with Barbara, actually…” he jokes. “I don’t know. It’s such a fucking cliché, but it’s about connection to the material. With Hoard, I’m specifically excited for the director, Luna Carmoon, and the lead, Saura Lightfoot Leon. That’s a lovely experience, completely different to these behemoth sets. But you want range.” A judicious answer. Really though: Bond? “I think I’d be fucking stupid to say no to that,” he says, laughing. “But, come on, it’s not even worth entertaining.”

Even that is on the presumption that Munson’s Stranger Things journey is over. “Yeah, I’ve said I don’t know because I really don’t know,” Quinn says. “Shawn Levy has said it publicly. I think [his return] would be very, very, very unlikely. He seems pretty fucking dead to me,” he says, punctuated by a sharp chortle. He takes a moment.

“It’s just a beautifully written arc. The beginning, middle and end are so powerful as it stands, so I think to just crowbar him into a narrative… you don’t want him to overstay his welcome,” he continues, ever the diplomat, seemingly wary of disappointing the legion of fans who made him. But a sense of certitude undergirds his prudence; the feeling that, after years of cohabitation, he’s ready to let Munson go.

“He did the job that the Duffers wanted him to do,” Quinn says. “By no means am I ruling it out. That’s a decision for the grown-ups to make. But Stranger Things was doing fine without Eddie. I think they’ll be fine next season without him, too.”

PRODUCTION CREDITS

Photographs by Ben Parks

Styling by Fabio Immediato

Grooming by Brady Lee

Jacket, £239, shirt, £99 and Boss Bottled parfum, £86, Boss. Ben Parks

#joseph quinn instagram #joseph quinn interview #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn #joe quinn #british gq #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson

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fallinglikethis · 2 years

Text

Happy 28th! Here are the fics I’ve read and enjoyed this month.

☁️ The Future Is Now by @jacaranda-bloom // 16,281 words // E // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis has a great life, really, he does. He studies hard, has great friends, a boring but decent job at the carnival, and of course, he has Harry, the best flatmate anyone could ask for. All that’s missing is someone to love. But when a strange new fortune-telling machine appears at the carnival, Louis’ life takes an unexpected turn. Could this be his chance to finally find love and will it be where he least expects it?

Or the five times Louis follows the fortunes to seek out his true love, and the one time he realises that what he's been searching for might've been right in front of him the whole time.

(The fortunes in this fic are wonderfully specific and yet just vague enough to be interpreted in several different ways, truly taking Louis on a journey to figure out what he really wants. A read that’s both smart and fun!)

☁️ What Am I Gonna Say When I See You by @runaway-train-works // 7,292 words // E // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I wouldn’t have asked you to come if he didn’t want you there.”

Louis hands her the gift bag when he reaches the pavement beside her and they turn to walk down the street to the house he has been in too many times to count. “I know you wouldn’t, but I haven’t seen him in forever. And you said it was just close family and friends going.”

“You are close family and friends. A lot closer than I am. The main reason I’m going is because mum made me since she’s sick in bed with the flu.” Louis kind of wishes he was sick in bed with the flu. He shouldn’t be this apprehensive. It’s Harry. It’s only Harry. And yeah, they might not have seen each other in almost six years, but they're still friends. Aren’t they?

The one where Louis' unsure if too much time has passed since he last saw his childhood best friend to try and make things right.

(Sweet nostalgia between childhood friends who almost became something more. I love a good second chance fic, especially when there’s such an air of romance like this one has.)

☁️ Drabbles series by @laynefaire // 1,800 words // T // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson & Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

Drabbles written for the seasonal drabble challenges.

(Amazing Drabbles that put you right in the scene so well that they feel a little like memories, like you actually could have been there. Incredible peeks at all kinds of stories that will leave you wanting more.)

☁️ A Way of Keeping You Inside (Ink) by @perfectdagger // 5,498 words // G //Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis is not fond of tattoos. He would never consider getting one himself. He may get why Harry got some of them, or maybe he doesn't get it at all. Maybe he will get it eventually.

Or the one in which Louis thinks Harry's "Hi" tattoo is stupid and doesn't get its meaning. Only until he does and also gets his first tattoo.

Based on Ink by Coldplay.

{A very sweet take on the tattoos that scream their story.)

☁️ Fractured Moonlight by @daggerandrose // 1,604 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis huffs because he doesn’t want to deal with this. “Listen, I appreciate your concern.” He doesn’t. “But it’s not your duty to look after the sad man at the bar. Okay?”

(A thrilling glimpse at an unexpected turn of events. And if this isn’t enough for you, a continuation has just been posted to the @onedirectionbigbang called Mind of Stone! Read it here!)

☁️ sometimes a mystery (oh me, oh my) by @friendofhayley // 3,102 words // E // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

A dropout from University, Louis Tomlinson is perfectly content living vicariously through her best friend's love life, thanks very much. Definitely. That is...until a cute girl starts at her job.

If only Louis knew how to talk to girls.

(A wonderful girl direction fic that’s a perfect blend of sweet and spicy!)

☁️ love me like we don't have tomorrow by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed // 666 words // T // Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

"Are you going to see him again?" Louis asks. He’s sitting on a ruined wall, inspecting his long, dark nails. Talons, Zayn thinks. He nods.

“How many years in a row is this?”

Zayn glances at his best mate, doing up the buttons on his coat. “Dunno,” he says, even though he can recall, with perfect clarity, all the times he’s met up with Liam. Every Halloween that he’s spent with him.

"And he still doesn't know?"

(A small peek at the road to a demon’s heart. This one also has had more added to the story through the @onedirectionbigbang! Read it here!)

☁️ In The Still Of The Night by @jacaranda-bloom // 68,568 words // E // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson // 50 Reasons to Have Sex Larry Fic Fest

In a society where omegas are expected to follow a predetermined path, Louis strives for more; for his voice to be heard, for recognition, for true love.

In a world where your past defines your future, Harry fights against the system; for equality, for a different life, for acceptance.

When their two worlds collide, will they be beaten down by conformity or will they rise up and forge a new path together?

OR the Dirty Dancing AU where Louis is a feisty omega who wants to change the world, Harry is an alpha from the wrong side of the tracks, and nobody puts Louis in a corner.

(This fic has such amazing sexual tension! Also, a majority of the characters in this au are much more likable than their movie counterparts.)

☁️ Eat Your Vegetables by @bananaheathen // 8,796 words // M // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

In which Louis is a celebrity footballer and Harry is the new team nutritionist.

Or, the one where they have to go to Marks & Spencer and Waitrose.

“I’m not a child, Haz,” Louis says, trying to sound offended and not quite sticking the landing.

“No,” Harry chuckles, looking down over his notes. “You’re a big professional sports boy with perfect stamina and an excellent heart.” He blinks back up at Louis. “And I’d like to take you shopping on Sunday. May I please?”

(A lovely getting together fic that just feels so easy and comfortable. Like a ray of sunshine when you need it most.)

☁️ Sin Wagon AU series by: @uhoh-but-yeah-alright // 7,891 words // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Harry shows up on Louis’ doorstep with all her things, having finally left her shitty boyfriend, Louis’s determined to try to put her feelings for her best friend aside and help her start living her own life. A wild night out might be the new start they both need.

A Girl!Larry AU inspired by The Chicks’ song, “Sin Wagon”

(This series has 2 fics so far. The first part is one of the hottest girl direction fics I have ever read, and the second part is the amazing prequel that leads up to the events of the first fic. It’s seriously soooo good.)

☁️ Remember Me Before You by @kingsofeverything // WIP // currently 147,163 words // E // Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers.

A New Girl AU.

(I am only 6 chapters in so far, but this fic is so much fun to read. Even if you’re not familiar with the show, you should still be able to enjoy the zany comedy that fills this awesome fic.)

☁️ Shadow Dancing by @laynefaire // WIP // currently 169,453 words // E // Zayn Malik/Liam Payne

As a small child, Liam Payne dreamed of being a firefighter. He took up boxing to defend himself from school bullies, but never lost sight of his dream. 15 years later, Liam is set to be the youngest brigade watch commander in his district, and his recent boxing win puts him in line for the British national title - if he can learn to get out of his own way.

Zayn took his first dance lesson at 5, after watching his sister's tap class. At 18, when an injury derails Zayn's dream of dancing professionally, he sets it aside to attend university, but the lure of dancing proves too great to ignore. He becomes an instructor, and eventually, the owner of a small dance studio, where he encourages other dancers to chase their dreams.

When their worlds collide in a cacophony of misunderstandings, Zayn, confronted with his own biases, realizes there’s more to Liam than meets the eye, and offers to help him prepare for his upcoming fight.

While Liam learns to dance, Zayn learns the art of compromise, and along the way, they find each other.

And when tragedy strikes, Liam finds that Zayn’s love will help him face the shadows of his past, and give him the courage to believe in himself and his dreams for the future.

(This fic is sooo realistic and wonderful and full of heart and you’ll devour every word.)

Thank you once again to all of the wonderful authors in this fandom who give us this amazing content FOR FREE. I’m so thankful for all of you!

#fic rec #28th appretiation #larry #ziam

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torn2 · 6 months

Text

Torn: #Death

Death is the card which closely fits the last 3 years of my life. Perhaps of many people’s lives.

For those who have spent the last 3 years as a hermit, I am describing the Covid-19 pandemic that decimated our world, our lives, our relationships, our children.

There’s the obvious meaning that the card may have death itself. But deeper than that, it is not just a physical death, but an end to relationships, interests, jobs. A major change in someone’s life, sometimes to the extent of rebirth after everything has been stripped away. And a complete transformation of thought, belief and outlook.

A rebirth, comes inevitably with a metaphorical death. The upside down death card signals a lack of hope, destructive actions or inactions. Corruption, an inability to follow guidelines, a lethargy, ambivalence, resistance to change.

I don’t know about you but I was torn so far between all the competing desires, terrors, horrors, dangers, grief and despair, that sometimes it felt almost like torture. I lost my job, my house, my flatmate and close friend. All my friends, including their kids. I lost my volunteer roles, I lost healthcare, cut off from family, without income. I relied on food banks, long walks in the woods. Terror of getting ill and dying. I was dying.

I had to remove all the different personas, pride, not wallow in misery. I was totally alone, slipping into intense self pity.

The analogy was that I had to turn the death card over. Broken down to the bare bones I had to get up and embrace the ‘rebirth’. The opportunities. The hope. Some dreams.

Losing everything to the bare bones of who you are is intensely painful. But also freeing. I was dying from hopelessness, but what if I channeled that very same hopelessness into going where no-one else would.

The card death resonates with me, because I did not just ‘think happy thoughts and believe in joy’, I was broken like a bare skeleton, but people still needed me. I did not have to be whole to fit in. I became more whole as I did fit in. Slowly.

I went, not to be a hero, but to hang out where I was vitally appreciated. To hang out with suffering. Art is raw and scrapes the sides of all that I threw aside being busy.

Everything in my life changed. Everything. I’m still piecing together the puzzle.

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archiemills10 · 4 months

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Thank you, Steve

Thank you, Steve.

Thanks for that night at Ashton Gate, thanks for the Play-off semi finals, thank you for Wembley and thank you for every home game last season.

Without you, those games, those scenarios would not have been possible, but you had this clever way of installing a belief, a unity, that ran throughout Nottingham Forest from the players to the fans. You gave us some of our happiest days and for that, Steve Cooper will forever be a legend in Nottingham.

It says a lot about the man Cooper is that he has relentlessly had his name chanted by Nottingham Forest fans when the team has been 4-0 down away to rivals Leicester, in dire straights away to Aston Villa having not won for two months and again this season despite being 5-0 to Fulham with the writing seemingly on the wall. His connection to the supporters was unbreaking and he earned every last cheer he got.

His time in charge of the Reds will go hand in hand with some of the best memories Forest fans will have ever experienced in their time supporting the club. For those who never got to experience the heady days of the Brian Clough era, this was the next best thing.

Here was a man who made it his mission to restore a bit of hope to the club, a club which in truth before he turned up, had lost that loving feeling.

Arriving on Trentside following our worst start to a Championship season with the club bottom of the table and the fans seemingly resigned to another year in the second tier at best. There was no real furore about his appointment - we knew what he had accomplished with Swansea, especially given it was his side that pipped Forest to the Play-offs a season prior, but there was largely little buzz given the fact that we had seen every single type of manager come through the doors in the past ten years, former club legends, unknown foreigners, experienced Championship pros who know how to get promoted, we had seen them all. Cooper was expected to be the next to try his hand and fail.

Something was different this time around, however. Maybe it wasn't the most obvious pairing but what happened next will go down in folklore.

Firstly, there was the matter of restoring pride in the side, giving the ability for supporters to get behind a team they believed in and could be excited about.

My first week as a university student in London coincided with Cooper’s appointment as Forest boss. Studying at a sports university, when I met my flatmates for the first time, the topic of who we supported was an obvious one. You can imagine the obvious answers I got from these people therefore, when replied with Forest.

“Rough start to the season for you guys.”

“Why do you support them then?”

Five out of the seven in the flat supported teams from the ‘big six’, and so, every weekend, it would be one of their games on the TV in the kitchen with only passing comments from them asking how we got on that weekend.

I can't recall ever watching a Forest game together as a flat early on, not before Christmas at least and even then, it was only our FA Cup games against Arsenal and Liverpool that they ever paid any real attention to.

What I associate my first year of university with most, however, is the journey we went on.

We got better and better each week (minus a few odd blips) and I remember getting to the point where I felt able enough to brag to my other flatmates about how well we were doing. By the time we made the Play-Offs, I sat them down, all weary eyed after our plane had only just got back from Italy and I made them watch the Sheffield Utd game. I wanted them to experience what Steve Cooper had given me and so many others that season.

My flatmates may not have cared, they still don’t, but for the first time, it gave me something to be proud about.

I had got to love and support Forest through my dad, a fan since the 70s who had developed into one of the most cynical supporters I knew. At the first sight of issues, he lost belief - this must have come from seeing the struggles we had been in since the turn of the century - a misery we’d shared since 2010.

I think this was symptomatic of most Forest fans throughout this period. They would fool themselves into believing this could be the year, yet after several poor results in games we could have won, as well as the inevitable Christmas collapse (a yearly event), all that goodwill and hope would be gone. January would arrive, a new manager would be in place and the rest of the campaign would be about making sure we didn't embarrass ourselves.

Steve Cooper did what none of the recent previous managers did, he changed how my dad and so many others viewed the club.

There may have been a few bumps in the road, however, we never lost faith in what this brilliant, clever man had created - a team and a club with a positive, forward-thinking mentality.

He changed our track record in the league, something that appeared to be an impossible task for so many before him.

I remember the first time I properly believed we would get promoted, Blackburn away at Ewood Park in February 2022. Blackburn were above us in the league, challenging for automatic promotion, however, I felt as though we were a much better side. Normally therefore, facing teams I felt we should beat would normally result in the exact opposite occurring, however, Forest put in a composed performance to win 2-0, leaving me with little doubt that we were in the hunt.

Cooper made the team believe, he made the city of Nottingham believe. He also made sure we didn’t kid ourselves. We deserved to be there in his eyes, but he would never let us get ahead of ourselves, that part was key. Celebrating what we were achieving under his guidance therefore, felt necessary. The fistpumps, Forza Garibaldi and Depeche Mode - all of these things seemingly were now part of the fortnightly sensation at the City Ground with Cooper as the ringmaster.

When we reached the promised land of the Premier League, following 23 years desperate to return, things were naturally harder as they always are for a promoted side. Not every game will be a victory, there will be moments when you contemplate whether we’re good enough, however, it’s important that you keep believing, keep the faith in the team and with Steve Cooper at the helm, it always felt like the captain of the ship had it under control.

Let’s not kid ourselves, last season could have been very different. After signing nigh on 30 players, we had an entirely new team, players we’d have to grow to love, especially after losing the bulk of our promotion-winning side in the same window. At certain points in the season, fans would find themselves comparing the two sides, often feeling our Championship side would have done better, however, by the end, after we grinded out survival, the fans grew to love that group because they cared about the club - something I am in no doubt Steve Cooper drilled into them.

Cooper got this club, he understood what being in the Premier League meant to the fans. His time charge allowed us to dream, have those dreams become a reality and then dream even higher.

His place in Forest history will forever be cemented, with younger fans today likely to hark back to the 21/22 and 22/23 seasons in the years to come. For them, these are the glory years. They might not be quite the same as the success under Brian Clough, but they do now have a hero of their own, the man who galvanised their club in a job many thought to be impossible.

So thank you, Steve, forever leader of the Garibaldi.

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rungigirun · 5 months

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Façades of Loneliness

A lot of people say that when you feel chronically lonely, it stems from something missing from your soul. Something like troublesome upbringing or being surrounded by quarreling parents all the time. I sort of agree with that, but once we establish the fact that the adult feeling of loneliness is in fact a result of not being at peace with yourself, what are the remedies for it?

Well, I’m here to tell you that I have no idea. Because I have been experiencing those feelings for a long time now, and even when surrounded by people, and I still have no idea how to cope.

Hence, this essay is not a self-help article to get rid of your winter moodiness or seasonal depression, or to fill your ever-gaping hole in your soul with useless tips to keep yourself busy. It’s just as a personal chronicle and exploration of different types and aspects of loneliness I have felt over the years.

As soon as I moved out and started living in college dorms at 18, moving to a tiny rural Pennsylvania town from the giant metropolis of Istanbul, it took a while getting used to the tiny college community of 2000 people. However, my best friend Karen and I were inseparable, so even though the town was tiny and there wasn’t much to do besides vomit stained frat parties in damp and keg smelling wooden paneled rooms, I did not feel lonely.

The following year, I moved to the UK, and for 2 years straight I was in a long haul of partying at least 3 nights a week. That plus the hangover and classes prevented me from feeling any loneliness. However, with the last year of uni dawning upon us, of which in the UK makes up the most of your graduation grade, we cut down on partying and were studying in solitude more often. That was the first time I started having very bothering feelings of loneliness, even though I was living in a house with 6 other friends. Hours and hours in the room alone studying, and even after I left the room to go to the living room or kitchen downstairs to socialize with my flatmates with whom I had been sharing accommodation the past 3 years with, I did not feel socialized enough. Like, the social interactions I started having with them did not feel so satisfying as they once did.

I started finding them kind of boring and bland for some reason I don’t even know, but anything they did was annoying me- them watching Friends reruns on cable TV, which I did not find funny at all, their everyday conversations about classes or other people. The loneliness I felt surrounded by them really started getting to me.

Then I moved to London, started living with a different set of people, but still, even though I got along better with them I still had that gaping feeling of loneliness with me that I couldn’t shake off no matter what I did.

I was going to classes for my masters degree twice a week, and going out with my friends on the weekend, which was very much the norm for the majority of people, but somehow it wasn’t enough with me.

I missed the closeness I had with my college freshman roomie Karen with whom we did pretty much everything together 24/7, which kept me from feeling lonely. Again, I guess wanting to be with someone 24/7 signals that I am needy and I need to face my inner issues etc, but despite relentless therapy sessions and self-help I’ve read, to this day I have no clue about how to achieve that internally.

I used to think that living abroad in a foreign country caused a lot of my lonely feelings, but having been stuck back in my home country for the past 3 years showed me that it really isn’t. Yes, things are more familiar — however the friend circle I once had is gone.

I guess that is what being from a country in economic turmoil PLUS being a single woman in your 30s does to you — all your friends have emigrated and you’ve settled back at just exactly the wrong time. The wrong time meaning, the friends left in your country are the ones that cannot emigrate easily, the ones who are already married with kids. Which, again, means that you don’t even see them that often so, guess what, you are alone again.

I would have liked to say I am alone not lonely, but unfortunately, that is not the case.

Being back in my home country the past three years and watching close friends emigrate one by one, for a moment makes me think that I was happier and less lonely when I was abroad. Well, that is both right and wrong. I was lonely abroad as well, but at least I was meeting new people and going on dates, which is not even the case here.

Now, a lot of people would tell you to pick up a new hobby, join a new social circle, etc., which make me squirm. I actually squirm and feel so deeply cringe about forcing new social connections in places that I wouldn’t even wholeheartedly want to be in. Like I would dread joining the Rotary or Lions club or taking up sailing just to make new friends, because those things mean nothing to me.

On the other hand, it is painfully hard to meet new people that you actually have the same mindset with and share similar interests with, and rather than forcing it you’d be alone, so we are back to square one of loneliness: you are by yourself again.

Another thing that often happens to me is that during this cycle of loneliness, you get so used to it that often it doesn’t even cross your mind to do something about it. Maybe small things like going on a walk or going for a coffee by yourself would help, but in my mind it all goes back to: ‘what is the point?’.

What also happened quite often especially when I lived abroad was to keep entertaining and seeing people that were using me. When I used to live in Barcelona, a lot of people I know from before used to hit me up saying they wanted to come over and stay with me for a couple of days. I used to cheerily accept them, hosting them in my house and spending money to be with them for a couple of days. The problem is, the majority of these people wouldn’t even call me if I were back in Turkey or just to regularly check up on me to see how things were.

After a while, I understood bitterly that people were using me. However, there was a paradox. Since living abroad meant you naturally had less friends than what you collected in your hometown (which has now eradicated but once was the case anyway), I would still entertain these people and host them for a couple of days just to not feel lonely. It only materialized in my mind a couple of years later that they were, in fact using me for their free holiday means, so I decided to start saying no.

Except there was a problem: saying no meant even less people around me, which in turn increased my loneliness. However, with where things currently stand, I think I’d rather be lonely than entertain that kind of people.

So here we are, with a multitude of façades of loneliness throughout my life at different stages, and each time maybe even making decisions that are making me inherently more lonely in the end. Which leaves me with no option but to keep waiting for people who share my mindset to naturally appear in my life and make me feel more loved. Don’t know if or when that will ever happen, but I seem to think and think about it in circles and I cannot find any other way to relieve myself of these emotions.

#me #loneliness #lonely #alone #alone with my thoughts

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lenny-zaim-sucks · 1 year

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Double Entry 06/12/22

I thought I’d toy with him today and say I went on a date to see his reaction, all hell broke loose when I thought i’d spice it up by saying it was the guy i cheated on him with. I brought him back some KFC which he refused to eat, claiming I may have poisoned or contaminated it. I bought him other things from tesco he asked me to pick up but since he wanted to act ungrateful I told him fine don’t eat my food. He said it’s cool you eat all my food, to which I tried to help myself to the last bit of lemonade he bought. He snatched it from my mouth, spilling it all over me and then threw it down the drain, god forbid I drink it. This is why exes can’t live together platonically as friends. Friends don’t do this to each other. Why would I be mad about my friend seeing someone from their past? Lol

He wants to claim he’s hurt, ironic isn’t it? The same guy who would immediately hit up girls he cheated on me with from the past every time we had a problem lol. I imply I’ve done the same a year later and now he feels hurt ha what a joke! The hypocrisy is real with this one and he wears it proudly. He keeps repeating that it’s different, I’m dying to know how but I still don’t have a coherent answer. It’s literally the same. I’d say my situation is a lot less worse since it’s been a year, meanwhile he got his dick sucked the literal next day after he fucking broke my heart. As if it wasn’t stabbed enough, he stabbed it some more for good measure. He’s had a year to get over it and move on so tell me which is worse? If he ended up with that tramp now I wouldn’t care, he clearly wanted her all along so it’s probably best for him. Yet he’s acting salty over something he’s been trying to do, it’s only because she won’t respond that he can’t see her otherwise they’d be right back at it.

I have never hated someone so much in my life, I refuse to acknowledge his existence now. I will never talk to him again. He is but a mere shadow in this house. I’m absolutely done on all fronts, he does not deserve me in any capacity, friendship, acquaintance, flatmate, nothing. He will proudly acknowledge his double standards and hypocrisy as if it’s a good thing and I should accept this? No, not a chance in hell. I hope I never have to hear his stupid voice ever again. Goodbye Lenny.

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vwifsui01blog · 1 year

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My head hurts a lot. But I know that no one cares. I feel forgotten. I am disgusting and ugly. Everytime I look at myself in the mirror I am reminded of how much I hate myself. I wish this could end. I have no goal in my life. My life is meaningless. I am just an ant with no power. I am destined to be poor and miserable forever. I am also very stupid, I cannot do the simplest tasks in maths and physics. I feel so left behind. I hate everyone. Everyone laughs at me and bullies me. I am so alone. I never had any real friends that would care about me. Neither have I cared about anyone, except my mother. I want to be away from people. I don’t want them to see me. I know when they see me, they think I’m weird and disgusting. I hate myself. I don’t know what I should do. I know nobody will help me or tell me that they love me. I am left to myself. I feel like I am only able to communicate with myself. Everyone else is off limits. Like I’m in quarantine. Maybe I should be. I think I deserve this. A disgusting person like me shouldn’t be happy. An ugly face cannot smile, it’s weird. I am just a trash bag with meat. I am useless. My body is so ugly, I want to get rid of it. I want to exit this body. I wish I could exist without one, just float around and observe people. I don’t need to interact with them, I know they don’t want and don’t need me. At least I would be able to look at people without being scared, because they won’t know that I’m watching them. I am not a good person. I am too dumb to be alive. I don’t know what I’m gonna do in the future when everyone will abandon me. I think I really should kill myself and do people a favor. I am just taking space. Some people actually want to live, but can’t because of an illness. But for some reason I am just too healthy to die. Maybe I should starve myself. I hate all of you. Everyday I have to see people and avoid them. It takes a lot of energy. I am not able to socialize like any person. Everyday is suffering. I especially hate weekends. Because my flatmates are home and they make a lot of noise and walk all over the place, I hate them. They bully me. Especially the black guy. He ignores me and laughs at me. I know they make jokes about me behind my back. I don’t knoq why should I be alive. If I am so hated, I don’t deserve to be here. I wish I could stay in my dreams. I’m always different in my dreams. A different person. It feels so good to not be me. I wish I could stay a little longer. I wish I could forget about this life and this body. I think people really don’t know how much I am ashamed of myself. I know they don’t want to see me, and sometimes I want to show them I don’t want to see myself either. I don’t talk to people thought. I know that if I spoke about any of this, it would be so cringe. This is the first time I even wrote something like this. I don’t think this is helping. I honestly feel nothing. This has been going on for too long and nothing is getting better. My life isn’t getting better. I am just becoming uglier and uglier each year. And everything is going to shit. I have no money and no one close anymore. I don’t have a home. I don’t have any motivation. I don’t want to do anything or study anymore. I stopped playing on my guitar. Ditched programming. I hate this. I tried drinking alcohol, but it doesn’t taste any good and I didn’t like being drunk. Had a bad hungover. Not worth it. I am not thinking about drugs though. Although that could be a good way out. Please somebody end me. Who cares.

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pennywaltzy · 2 years

Text

To Fight For The One You Love (9/10)

And here we are, with one chapter left and a very important confession made at the end of this chapter. What does it mean for Khan and Molly?

To Fight For The One You Love - Something is peculiar about his flatmate, Molly Hooper. In a new world where nearly everyone has a superhuman ability of some sort, Molly seems...different. And she arrives home early in the morning all beat up to Hell. What is she doing? Khan is determined to find out.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 9 | SERIES PAGE

The police were still at their home when Molly burst in, looking for him. “Thank goodness you’re okay,” she said, wrapping her arms around his waist when she got to him.

“They were nothing,” he said, embracing her back. He would tell her about Dr. Trasker later; for right now, he had police to deal with and he didn’t want her asking a million questions or going into a rant. The detective he was dealing with wanted to post an officer outside and he agreed, and he also asked for one to be posted at the clinic. Molly gave him a questioning look but agreed in the end. Once the police and the intruders were gone, John got a bottle of wine from the wine cooler and opened it for them. “The intruders were here on behalf of your old friend Dr. Trasker,” he said, handing her a glass.

“The bastard,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “What does he want with me? Was he behind the break-in at my flat?”

“We can assume so,” he said, pouring some wine into her glass, then his own. He set the bottle down and took a sip from his glass, lifting it to his lips slowly. He wanted to rein in the irrational anger he still felt at the intruders, that they would go after her when they were finished with him. She could survive, but he would have lost her in the process, and he did not want that. Whatever it was he felt for her now it was a strong emotion, and he had to be careful not to let it gain control. He needed to be alert to keep her safe.

“He had the oddest theories. He wanted to explore deep in the tombs, and he hired me to deal with the ghosts. But I always gathered there was more to it than that.”

“How long have you been dealing with ghosts?”

“I did that when my parents died at sixteen to support myself, and then I continued to get through school to get my Phd.” She had some of her wine. “I haven’t heard from him in twenty years. Why does he want me now?”

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out. I have a friend in Cadence looking into you and him.”

“I had to leave when I stopped aging,” she said. “Your friend is going to put two and two together if he’s smart enough.”

“I trust Sam to keep your secret safe,” he said. “And here in New London, strangeness is more accepted. No one will blink an eye at longevity. They’ll just brush it off as a quirk of the planet.”

“That’s good.” She reached out to him and he looped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. She wormed her arm around his waist and rested her head against his chest. “I was so worried when I heard what had happened here. I thought for sure you’d at least been injured.”

“It would take more than two intruders with a mag gun and a switchblade to take me down,” he said, setting his wine glass down and embracing her fully. She wrapped both arms around his waist and they stayed still like that for some time. Finally, reluctantly, he let her go and he picked up his wine glass again. “Please don’t go in the tombs without your crew.”

“I’m not going out there for a while, not until it’s safe. Joaquim will understand.”

And if he doesn’t, I’ll make him, John thought to himself as he nodded. “I’m sure he will.”

“You be safe, too. I mean, I know you can live through a lot but...I don’t want to lose you. Not now, not when I think I love you.”

He felt his heart soar at her word, and his wine glass was set down and he was cradling her face with both hands, running his thumbs in circles under her chin. “I think I love you as well, Molly.”

“Good,” she said with a smile before reaching up and pulling him into a searing kiss. It wasn’t long until he began leading them both to the bedroom, the wine forgotten. This was vastly more important.

#sherlock #star trek aos #harmony #khanolly #fanfic #fanfiction #khan x molly #khan noonien singh #molly hooper #my stuff

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spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel · 2 years

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so looks like my flatmate is definitely moving in with her sister and her bf at the end of year/next year after she comes back from aussie, so doesn’t look like we’ll find a place together like we initially talked about earlier in the year. i guess to be fair to her i did mention many times i was unsure about staying at this uni and possibly transferring to another in a different city, so that isn’t reliable for someone that needs a plan. but still. i really like her as a flatmate so it sucks i’m now gonna have to start again. i doubt her sister and the bf would offer to let me join on their plans, and tbh even if they did i don’t really wanna live with all 3 of them. i’d just end up feeling like an outcast again, it was lowkey great once her sister moved out. plus no doubt they’d always be social with people coming round all the time and i’m really not here for that. but now next year we’ll probably like never see each other and if we do, it’ll likely just be in passing. tbh in my head i kinda think of her as a friend now, but i doubt she feels the same. we don’t hang out at all outside of the house, even at the house we don’t really hang out. now i really want to revist my transferring plans and just do it all over again for a third fucking time. i just hate meeting new people all the time, cause friendships never stick. i can’t make friends. idk what it is about me, but no one is ever interested and tbh the older i get the more it hurts. it makes trying to get through study a lot harder, cause it means i don’t have someone i can relate with regarding my courses. it makes me wanna drop out again and just find another full time job, because then at least i’d be around the same people all day everyday and you’re forced to get to know them and get on.

#personal

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afieldinengland · 2 years

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Then I do pray that you figure things out fully soon! Not for my sake, but yours, lover, because you surely dont enjoy this state! I simply hate to see a boylamb suffer so! Yes, finding a way to spend time, some bigger plans or projects for the summer might be reasonable! And well, putting up with you is a pleasure and a privilege, a real joy in finding out that you trust me and care about me enough so that my presence soothes you partially at least! When I was in college and did not have summer plans (or money for it) I usually hit up the person I befriended the most during the last year, and either inviting them to come visit me for 2 or 3 days, or going to them. I saw so many towns of my country that I would have never seen otherwise, as they are not touristy places. I don't know if such a way of spending time is something that sounds good to you or is even possible, but it is a way to bond with people and see different places at the same time.

I know I am not obliged to, my love! Just as you mention now and then the safety and joy of being able to say no, or being treated like an equal, I also never feel like I have to write you (something that happened with other lovers - they demanded constant attention from me and took it for granted) - but I do like it, and I like knowing that somewhere out there there's a boy reading my letter and blushing, or smiling, and all of it because of my words - HWA

oh, thank you, lover— really, that’s too kind of you!! it means so much to me, that you always say you hope i recover for my own sake 💓 how selfless you are, how free i feel in your presence!! dearest love, it’s true, i don’t enjoy this current state, i hope a good walk with the sun on my back will heal me. i’m sure your prayers will soothe me, either way!! oh, gentle one, it’s a pleasure and an honour to listen to you too— thank you, heart, i hardly know what to say to all these tender words. you really do calm me, and reassure me more than i can say. that does sound like a good idea!! one of my flatmates in particular has expressed a wish to visit my county, and explore places like my village, avebury, and stonehenge— they live in london, you see, so hearing about my home surroundings really enchants them!! it would be nice to invite them down for a few days. i agree, that’s a fantastic way to see different places, and to bond with a friend :) oh, most gentle one, that means the world to me, thank you so much for trusting me with such a thing. i’m so glad this is a more understanding place for your heart than previous lovers gave you— i’d never demand your attention, sweetest, and i’m sorry those before me didn’t appreciate that to be loved by you is a sheer privilege. i’m glad you like it 💓 i like it, too, knowing there’s a beautiful lover far away reading this with a smile, and responding in affectionate terms of their own. i’d never take you for granted, wondrous one— your heart is safe with your boyfaun, i promise, and i will always be in awe of the trust you put in me

#answered #dear gentle one— lover :)#i’m so so so glad to hear that— your heart will never be taken for granted for as long as i hold it i promise #brave beautiful one!!#herb wine anon

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