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btsgotjams27 · 2 years

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mistakes we knew we were making | knj

young, careless, and in love. that's how mistakes are made.

✨ title: mistakes we knew we were making | ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ word count: 1.9k | ✨ rating: pg-13 ✨ genre/au: slice of life, marriage!au, failed marriage, divorce!au, exes!au, angst, romance ✨ warnings: mentions of sex, alcohol consumption ✨ song: as the crow flies by clare bowen & sam palladio ✨ a/n: this is just a small little one-shot for joonie’s birthday. i’m a sucker for romance and angst? idk why lol. this probably isn’t the best thing i’ve written but i wanted to get something out for my joonie’s birthday. also, thank you to @cherrysoulth for being my beta and always being so encouraging with your cute little comments. ily.

Kim Namjoon.

It's easy to fall in love with him. He's smart, witty, handsome, and also a complete dork. Who wouldn't fall for him? They'd be a fool not to.

He practically swept you off your feet with his words. It didn't take much to notice him amongst his group of friends. You could tell he was different - in a good way, and you were right.

After several late-night talks into the wee hours of the morning, you discover the uncanny similarities between the pair of you - both idealistic, which became a bad thing. The two of you were constantly amused by daydreams, egging each other on without actually putting yourselves to good use and making your dreams happen.

Emotions ran deep for you and him. While he was good at expressing and communicating everything he felt, it was the complete opposite for you. He never liked how you shut him out, keeping him at bay from your emotions and thoughts.

Namjoon was brilliant, sometimes too brilliant, which intimidated you, and at times, you felt he was too good for you. You were brilliant and impressive in other ways, too; that's how the pair of you fit together so well.

He also had a way with words. His use of language made you marvel with heart eyes whenever he spoke. You could sit there and listen to him ramble on and on about humanity, injustices happening around the world, or a new random obsession he came to adore. So, in your eyes, he could do no wrong.

Twenty-one years old, and the pair of you were fools. Fools, so in love - coming up with ridiculous ideas, leading to spontaneous trips, insane, passionate sex, and heated arguments. But all these things made you love Namjoon and want to continue on this path of romance and destruction.

"We should get married," Namjoon casually suggested while the two of you were at breakfast, almost choking on your buttered toast.

"What did you just say?" You needed confirmation to make sure you didn't hear things. The two of you joked here and there, calling each other hubby and wifey for the hell of it, but you didn't think he was legit thinking about actually getting married.

Some of you found it thrilling and exciting, and you looked at your ring finger for a split second. You loved the thought of being claimed by Kim Namjoon - that you were his and no one else's.

He put down his fork and intently looked into your eyes, "Let's do it. I love you, and you love me. Easy peasy, pumpkin squeezy." Namjoon grabbed his fork again, chewing down his toast and a piece of bacon.

You stared at him blankly. Actually, no, it's probably not that easy. There were a lot of things one needed to do if one wanted to get married - like a marriage license. You were practical, and Namjoon was not.

"You're kidding me, right?"

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, "Does it look like I'm kidding, wifey?"

You let out a sigh. Whenever Namjoon set his mind on something, he wouldn't let it go, no matter how outrageous the idea was.

"What about our taxes?"

He laughed. "You're worried about how we're going to file taxes?"

You scoffed, "Well, one of us has to be realistic right now because I think you've had one too many bottomless mimosas today."

One too many mimosas later, and the pair of you found yourself down at city hall, signing your marriage license. Since this was so last minute, you returned to the restaurant to grab the hostess who was getting off work to be your witness at your civil ceremony. Confused as hell, but she also wanted to see whether the two of you would last, so she agreed to this insane scheme.

The two of you looked pretty decent for your last-minute wedding. Namjoon looked dapper in his dark blue sweater and black dress pants while you were in a white sundress. The hostess, Lana, picked up a bouquet from the random guy on the street corner and, in addition, grabbed two ring pops on the way before catching up to the pair of you.

It was perfect.

…until it wasn't.

"I don't see the same person I loved when I look at you anymore," Namjoon said with sadness.

Your bags were packed and ready to go—three years of marriage down the drain. And you didn't want to say it, but were these years wasted?

"That's because I'm not the same stupid 21-year-old girl you once knew. I've grown up Namjoon, and so should you. We can't keep living in dreams that never come true."

Life took a turn, and somehow you ended up in New York City, where Namjoon was rumored to be. You didn't keep up with him after the two of you separated. Why would you? You deleted all your socials and had a new circle of friends, and there was no need to know about his life other than that you heard he remarried shortly after the two of you were officially divorced.

It was not surprising at all. He was always the romantic in your relationship, and you figured he was still young. He should get remarried, and you had hoped the next person would be everything he dreamed of and more.

But every now and again, you'd be reminded of Namjoon. There was no escaping him, whether it was a book you think he'd like, or an ad for a new art exhibit rolling into town - a part of him continued to linger throughout the years you were without him.

When your boss threw a launch party for their newest book, you had no choice but to attend, you were their latest editor, so you needed to make your rounds and kiss up to people.

The newest book titled 'Mistakes We Knew We Were Making' by RM was all the rage for the autobiographical fiction genre - a masterpiece, some would say. You didn't have a chance to read it yet, but it was on your list.

Your heart dropped when you walked in, seeing Kim Namjoon chatting with your boss. He looked up and caught your eye, and you being you, quickly darted amongst the crowd.

When you found an empty hallway to simmer down, the breath you were holding in was finally released, but it wasn't long before you heard someone calling for you. "Ah, there you are! Come on! You need to meet the author."

You flashed a thin smile to your boss. You'd be okay. It was just Kim Namjoon, your ex-husband. No biggie. You had no idea why he was here, but you were sure you'd find out sooner or later.

Immediately, your eyes spotted Namjoon amidst the crowd; it was hard not to notice him when he was practically a foot taller than the sea of women surrounding him. And, of course, he was as gorgeous as ever - his chest virtually swelling underneath the black turtleneck he was sporting, and his hair, god, his hair. It was at your favorite length - long enough to tug and pull while–

Okay, no–stop thinking about your ex-husband and yourself in compromising positions.

Your boss continued beelining her way towards Namjoon while you followed closely behind.

No.

He can't–he can't be the author, could he? RM? Was it a pen name? Is this what he was up to all these years? Did he finally make his dreams come true?

With Namjoon's dimpled chuckle charming the panties off of the women around him, he looked up at your boss when she made her way through the sea of women clawing at a piece of him. Elena, your boss, stepped aside to introduce you to who you assumed was the author of the hour.

Were you hoping he was just an acquaintance of your boss? Perhaps.

Well, only because you knew if he was, in fact, RM, the author, the publishing company would continue to work with him if he produced more manuscripts.

Namjoon smiled, dimly letting your name roll off his tongue, which made your boss narrow her eyes, taking a second look at the two of you.

"Do you two know each other? Elena asked with curiosity laced in her tone.

"We…uh, go way back," you answered vaguely, without going into further detail. You were sure Elena would ask later to get the full scoop on you and her new author.

Namjoon leaned in. "It's good to see you, baby," he whispered smugly.

You shook your head. His arrogance was also another thing that got him into trouble.

As the night continued, you did your best to mingle and stay clear of Namjoon. You knew you'd have to talk to him at some point, but did it have to be at your company's party?

"So, how's your wife?" You asked when he sat next to you at the bar counter, and you wanted to get that question out early to set your boundaries in case he had any ideas.

Namjoon chuckled, "Divorced."

"Guess you couldn't keep her satisfied either," you teased, waving the bartender down and placing your and Namjoon's drink order with him.

Namjoon was fantastic in bed, so you were sure that wasn't the issue.

He shook his head, "No, that wasn't it."

"Oh?" You questioned, wondering what happened between the two but didn't want to pry. It was none of your business.

Again, Namjoon knew how you functioned, and you weren't going to ask, so he wanted to tell you instead. "She wasn't you," he said casually before thanking the bartender for his drink.

It was hard suppressing the smile creeping up. He always knew the right things to say, but this time, you didn't know if he was genuine or not. "Wasn't me, huh? Joonie, we were disastrous together."

He didn't deny your claim because it was mostly true. But to him, that's what made him feel alive. He missed the daydreams and adventures, the unknowns of the future - and life with his most recent ex-wife became boring, ordinary, predictable. To be honest, he couldn't stop thinking about you and where the two of you would be today if you had stayed together.

After taking a sip of your cocktail and swirling it around in your glass, you turned to Namjoon, your knees slightly brushing against his side. "Do you think we would have found each other in an alternate timeline?" You asked while continuing to swivel on the bar stool.

He quickly peered in your direction, smiling at the drink before him, mimicking you by swirling his glass around, shifting his position so his knees were now brushing against yours., "I don't know, maybe?"

Namjoon knew how much you loved entertaining the thought of different timelines and alternate universes - the what-ifs, the maybes, the what could have been. He was amused that it was still your thing after all these years.

"Do you think we would have made the same mistakes?" You asked, tapping the side of your glass, unsure of why you even asked in the first place. It's not like you were looking for an answer.

Namjoon chuckled before taking a sip of his whiskey, grimacing at the last drops sliding down his throat. He stood up, and you assumed he didn't want to have this conversation with you anymore, and you'd completely understand if he didn't. It's hard rehashing the past.

You looked at him with a thin smile, letting him know that it was okay if he wanted to leave. You didn't need an answer, and it was just nice being in his presence again.

He placed his hand on the back of your stool, leaning in. "In whatever timeline or universe we're in, I'd choose to keep making the same mistakes if it meant crossing paths with you."

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon x reader #namjoon drabble #bts fanfic #rm fanfic #rm drabble #rm x reader #rm x you #namjoon x you #bts x reader #bts x you #namjoon fic #rm fic #bts scenario #namjoon scenario #rm scenario

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cassieschaosdimension · 10 months

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If my author blog gets a revamp so does this one! Hey everyone, I’m Cassie Jackson (she/her) and I am a gen z author. This is basically just my chaos blog for my writing account now. I first got Tumblr in 2020 because @procrastinationonvacation is very persuasive. I first started out in pjo tumblr and I guess never really left it so if any of you are from pre July 2023, please feel free to stop by and say hey hey, I would love to talk with you more! I have been off and on since then. I want to be more active on here so here I am trying yet again. For those of you who never left, I love you so so much, thank you so much. To those of you who are new, welcome, how are you?

I am obsessed with anything Rick Riordan, Cassandra Clare, you’ll figure it out as we go along here. Let’s just say I’m obsessed with reading, writing nature, the environment and call it good. I am also obsessed with sports and want to learn how to play as many as I can before I’m too old. Hockey is my biggest sport obsession right now and people, they wear knives on their feet and chase after a rubber puck that can be lethal.

Feel free to get in my ask box and ask me (reasonable) questions and tag me in tag games you believe I will enjoy. I love getting asks and seeing who tags me in games.

Let’s get down to business shall we. Here are my #s:

cassie irl = things happening irl

cassie’s randomness = any post with an image that seems to come to mind

cassie rambles = any thought that comes to mind I want to share with the world sans an image

cassie moot reblog = anything my moot made and I want to reblog

my obsession = does this need an explanation :D

this is so cool = reblogs I have to have on my blog

take one down pass it around = tag games

you asked for it :D = anything from my ask box

nature is amazing = anything nature related I find amazing

STEM major blues = I’m a STEM major, life is hard

okay, in love = this is one of the best things I have ever seen

I feel called out = this hurt my soul

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celtfather · 29 days

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No Place Like Home #659

Home is where Celtic music is with the Irish & Celtic Music Podcast #659 . Subscribe now!

The BorderCollies, Boxing Robin, Maggie’s Wake, Moher, Melanie Gruben, The Irish Rovers, Louise Bichan, Mic Clark, Jocelyn Pettit & Ellen Gira, The Fenian Sons, SeeD, Fiddle Folk Family, Paddyman, Clare Cunningham

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THIS WEEK IN CELTIC MUSIC

0:02 - Intro: Something Blue

0:10 - The BorderCollies "Bella the Cat" from To the Hills and Back

3:15 - WELCOME

4:56 - Boxing Robin "Aires de Pontevedra, Dans Loudieg" from The View From Here

8:52 - Maggie’s Wake "Bridget O’Brien” from Maggie’s Wake

12:47 - Moher "The Park Station (jigs, reel) The Ballygar Hermitage - Cleveland Park - The Old Station House" from Phoenix

16:03 - Melanie Gruben "Water Charges Song" from Like a Tide Upon the Land

21:01 - FEEDBACK

23:28 - The Irish Rovers "Rambling Paddy" from No End in Sight

26:20 - Louise Bichan "Tune for Claire" from The Lost Summer

29:50 - Mic Clark "DRAGONFLY" from THE RIVER EP

33:57 - Jocelyn Pettit & Ellen Gira "Through the Ether" from All It Brings

38:11 - THANKS

40:11 - The Fenian Sons "Enniskillen Dragoons" from 617

44:28 - SeeD "The Hall of the Goblin Queen" from FAE

48:41 - Fiddle Folk Family "Eppie Morrie" from Ungeschieden, ungekämmt, ungehört

52:30 - Paddyman "The Irish Rover" from One for the Road

56:04 - CLOSING

57:23 - Clare Cunningham "No place like home” from ON MY WAY (AR MO BHEALACH)

1:00:21 - CREDITS

The Irish & Celtic Music Podcast was produced by Marc Gunn, The Celtfather and our Patrons on Patreon. The show was edited by Mitchell Petersen with Graphics by Miranda Nelson Designs. Visit our website to follow the show. You’ll find links to all of the artists played in this episode.

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There is no episode next week. It’s part of our quarterly break to catch up and in this case prepare episodes for the summer when I usually have trouble keeping up with shows. However, if you are a Patron of the Podcast, then you will get access to episode 2 of the Highlight Reels. These are music - only episodes featuring the best songs and tunes from episodes #648 - 655 of the show. These songs are part of the next round of voting that might ultimately end up being a part of the Celtic Top 20 at the end of the year. So go listen and vote for your favorites.

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Email me at follow@bestcelticmusic.

John Sturgeon emailed: "Hi Marc: Had a wonderful holiday piping with the City of Mt. Dora Pipes and Drums band. (Facebook) We performed Saturday at two venues and on Sunday at three different pubs. Attached is a photo of myself and my wife from the weekend. Slàinte Mhath"

Anne Roos sent a photo for St Patrick's Day: "Here ya go: Cheers and Happy Birthday,"

Karl Horak replied to the question of how they are celebrating Celtic culture through music: "Corned beef, veggies, Irish cheese, homemade spotted dog, washed down with Guinness, of course."

Scot sent a photo: "Shades of Green on their 6th and final performance of the St. Patrick’s Day weekend. This was at Jerzee’s in Glenside to a packed house. Our absolute favorite time of year. My favorite moment was right after we finished….a gent from Ireland came up to me, thanked me/us for bringing such joy all around and working so hard….and he wanted to give a little back. He then took my hand and sang a Gaelic song to me. It was moving. Nothing like the Irish spirit to lift you up. Thanks for keeping the spirit alive brother."

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#celtic #Irish #Scottish #music #Ireland #Scotland

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aweecrush · 3 years

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Prologue

Tuesday, October 16th 2007

“Jesus, I can’t believe you’re actually in the fucking plane - took you long enough! If I had known it took a wedding to get your arse back home, I would have had a couple by now, for God’s sake .”

“Michelle, you promised you wouldn’t start! ” Clare’s reproachful voice rose.

“Aye, first, I didn’t promise shit, and second, I told you, she’s not chickening out so chill out - right Erin?”

Despite the culpability and shame pricking at her skin, her heart warmed at their traditional bickering she wished she’d hear more often. At their voices. And, most of all, at knowing that in a few hours, she’d get to hear them for real.

Feck, she’d missed these eejits.

“Well, I’m not actually in the plane yet, we’re waiting to board. And then I still have that stupid long flight, and then the stupid long wait at stupid London, so don’t wait up - but yes, I’m definitely on my way,” she promised, earning herself an earful of high pitched cackles and happy swears.

Her heart welled up.

“So, how is the bride doing? She wasn’t home when I called earlier, and all Mammy could talk about was how the caterer was driving her crazy and how aunt Sarah almost set her own hair on fire trying a new hairdo she’d like to nail for the ceremony.”

Michelle snorted. “ Yeah, hilarious so it was. You should have seen your dad’s face, mental. ”

“It was terrifying,” Clare corrected, apparently still shaken.

Then, perked up. “Orla’s going to look so cute though - I can’t wait for you to see the dress!” Erin tried to ignore the sting of not having been there for such an important moment.

“We’re still trying to convince her out of drawing anything on it, but I’m not sure we’ll win this one, to be honest. Also, we’ve got everything almost ready to go for the bachelorette party, although I do need you to help me stop Michelle from bringing the tons of drugs she wants to, because - ”

“For feck’s sake Clare, Orla would love it! The girl is tying the knot, she deserves to get properly shit faced.”

“She said she wanted something small!”

“She said she would have liked to have a little something with just the five of us the night before. She never said anything about the actual bachelorette party being small - or fucking boring for that matter!”

“Just the five of us?”

The words spilled out before she could stop them, stupid that she was. At the other end of the line, the girls went uncharastically silent, and Erin cursed herself.

Feck.

“I mean, that’s grand. It’s cool, I thought it was just going to be one big night for the bachelorette party before the big day, but - I mean, that’s even better! Grand - cool.”

Christ on a bike, that was pathetic. She was.

“Yeah...The thing is, Orla wanted a wee night with just us Derry girls the night before the bachelorette party, hanging at the bar and stuff you know, because - Well, just because.” Poor Clare was rambling now, in a typical panicked Clare kind of way. “And we thought - Well, then we thought about it, and it turns out it’s not going to work, just timing-wise and stuff, so - “

“So the point is we dropped it.”

“Right. Yep.”

Again, silence, only betrayed by the hammering in her chest that she hoped her friends wouldn’t hear over her cellphone.

“Oh okay, well - that’s a shame.” Her casual slash over the top fake disappointment tone did nothing to help convince anyone, of course, herself included. She winced.

She promised herself it wasn’t going to be like this, though. She wasn’t going to ruin this for anyone - not a chance.

For God’s sake, catch yourself on Erin.

Pushing all dangerous thoughts aside, Erin took a deep breath. “In any case, I’m sure it’ll all be fine - really fine.”

There were another few seconds of silence, and she could just picture the worried look they were sharing - probably very similar to the one they had that particular, fateful day. To the one they had again when she told them she was moving away. Then -

“You bet it’ll be fine - feck, it will be absolutely brilliant is what it is! Wait til you see my dress, Erin - my tits look amazing in it.”

As it turned out, running all over the city for work for the past ten days and dangerously flirting with the limits of sleep deprivation did have a perk: her whole, eight hours flight, Erin slept like a log.

(Truth was, she could have done without the look of contempt and the ‘Miss? You have drool on your face’ from that stupid flight attendant who woke her up when they landed, but still - all in all, it went well.)

The wait at Stansted airport, however, was pure hell.

Because of the jitters, mostly.

Growing up, despite how much she loved to complain about them, Erin had never actually considered living away from her family. Well, not that far, at least - she’d always known she would leave Derry after high school, which they did, and it was glorious. War or not, she had a pretty nice life as a child and then a teenager, but those college years and the first ones that had followed - they were the best of her life.

Still, it was only Belfast at the time, and Belfast was a two hours drive from home. Erin knew that at some point, she wanted to go out in the world, maybe live abroad for a while, but this - New-York, all on her own, away for so long? She hadn’t planned that. Didn’t, really - it all went so fast, in the end.

It was a good thing too, because if she had stopped and thought about it for too long, she wasn’t sure she would have gone through with it.

(Then again, what else could she have done?)

Despite her dreams, and her need for independence, and her eagerness to see the world, Erin had never thought that she’d leave her family for that far, for that long. Orla had come to see her once, thank goodness, but Jesus -

On the last picture her Ma had sent her, Anna had grown so much, she almost looked like a wee woman. She’d forgotten the exact colour of that lipstick aunt Sarah wore all the time, she couldn’t remember each wrinkle on Granda’s beautiful face like she used to, and sometimes, she was afraid she was forgetting her Da’s smell and what her Ma’s voice sounded like in real life. She’d missed them so much, it hurt (a lot, often).

She just couldn’t wait any longer to get back to that crazy bunch, and those last, endless few hours? Torture so it was.

She was half considering starting to work on her next article to pass the time when across from her, Erin spotted a young couple bickering, their luggages next to their seats. She was a beautiful thing, red hair tied in a messy bun, and his brown curls fell above his forehead, all messed up.

She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she could make out their accents. He looked like he was trying to make her smile, leaning over so he could kiss her, and she was doing everything she could not to laugh, weakly trying to escape his arms around hers, her pretense wavering with every second.

They were probably in their early twenties, just out of uni or something. They looked happy.

Her chest tightened, and suddenly, Erin felt the urge to cry.

Well, that was quick.

Shite. Shite shite shite.

It was okay, though - it was all fine. She knew herself by now - she was emotional as heck most days of the year (crazy, her Ma would say), but the day of her returning back home, with accumulated fatigue and an Atlantic crossing flight in her feet? Of course she'd get misty eyed at the first occasion. At anything, this just happened to be what, because they were very cute and - it was a coincidence, nothing more.

It was nothing.

The girl laughed, though, giving him a small slap over the head before she let him nuzzle his face in the crook of her neck. She brushed his forehead with her lips, a soft smile on them, and kept talking.

It was difficult, then, not to think about another time, another long wait, at the Bali airport this time. It was difficult, not to think about another English fella with wild, brown curls.

It was impossible, really, not to think about him.

Memories of a perfect trip came flooding back, of burnt skin and drunken smiles, of blue waters and green eyes. The tickles of the sun, the softness of his fingers over her exposed neck, her naked arms. Sweaty bodies pressed together during hot nights, slow breathes, so many new sights discovered, fingers intertwined.

Sometimes, the memory of his face hidden against her neck was so vivid, she could almost feel it. Just like she did now.

Her breath caught.

Sweet suffering Jesus.

Experience had taught her that she had to stop now - needed to, really, before her mind wandered to anything more. To everything else, every little thing that could, and would, make her heart ache even more than it already did.

(That’s another thing she’d found out: as it happened, the expression “heartbreak” wasn’t, in fact, an overly dramatic turn of words. Quite accurately descriptive it was, actually.

She often wondered when hers would stop feeling like it had been ripped into a million little pieces, but she was starting to lose faith that it ever would.)

Of course, she should have seen it coming, she knew that. She had, in fact. True to herself, she’d tried to ignore it, but she knew full well that with her coming back home, it would come back.

This painful, sneaky way every little thing seemed to remind her of before - of a life that felt so far away now.

Over the months, the many months since she’d been gone, she’d gotten it almost under control. Everyday life brought its distractions, particularly in a city like New-York: running between brunches and dinners, partying with her cool American friends, writing for a newspaper in the Big Apple, it was easy, forgetting what you wanted to, if only for so long. She was becoming a real life city girl, a full time one, and that was exactly what her busy brain - her treacherous heart - needed.

With time, every sight, every sound, every smell no longer reminded her of home - the place, the person. With time, she’d moved on.

Yes, sometimes - often - she’d wavered, but that was normal: having been close to someone meant that they lived with you forever, she couldn’t help that. At some point, it would just die down enough that she’d just be able to call it the past without her insides hurting.

(She thought it would, with Matt. Maybe not with the others before him, they were just passing through - but with him, she thought it would. She couldn’t really explain how it all made the permanent weight on her chest even heavier instead, somehow.)

But it hadn’t died down yet, and even though it was normal and okay and to be expected, six weeks ago, Erin had booked her tickets, and six weeks ago, she had lost the grip over the carefully built barriers she’d made sure to rise in the meantime for - well, self-preservation, really.

It started small. The song that had played this one special night, resonating through Starbucks as she waited for her drink. That sweatshirt her colleague bought one day that reminded her of another one. That scarf in the store that looked so much like Doctor Who’s.

But then...Then, it was every day, every damn day, just like the beginning - even worse, if she was being honest. Up until yesterday, when she boarded that damn plane.

Up until now, in this stupid airport where she didn’t want to cry.

Arms tightened around her own chest, Erin willed herself not to, even though it was becoming evident that there was no ignoring the memories and the aching now. Even though, just like she feared, it was becoming perfectly clear that there was no escaping anymore, no pretending that she wasn’t the worst person in this Goddamn country, that the worst hadn’t happened.

Even though she could feel the fear mixed with longing and excitement and dread and a million other emotions that had painfully, permanently taken residence in her stomach now that she was home.

(That had taken roots there ever since the day she left, so it did.)

Shite.

Sitting back up, Erin shook herself. No, no, no, no - she could do this.

She’d grown, she’d prepared herself. She’d even planned what to say if...She was ready. Responsable, mature, and ready. And she won’t have to face this alone.

In a few hours, she was going to see the people who raised her. In a couple of days, wee Orla was getting married. She’d come up with excuses after excuses not to come home, even for Christmas - babbling something about being overloaded with work even though it made her heart ache to know she’ll be alone for the holidays for the first time in her life. Even though she knew full well her Ma didn’t buy a single word, very aware of the real reason she was staying away. She didn’t say a single word, though, and Erin was grateful.

No more, though.

For months and months, Erin had found reasons to stay away for the exact reasons that were chipping away at her heart more and more by the second, but now her baby cousin was getting married, and she’d see her family, and they’ll hold her close, and she’ll find a way to bury all the stuff that was so, so much more difficult to ignore now that she was coming home.

Maybe - maybe it will be difficult, but they’ll be here to help her through it. She’ll be there for her family, and they’ll be here for her.

Fighting the urge to reach out for the folded photograph in her wallet (the one that brought so much comfort and so much else she’d rather avoid at the same time, the one she clinged to but pretended she didn’t), Erin just breathed, and moved to change seats.

Everything would be fine, in the end. It will be grand.

Except her family didn’t come.

No one did.

It was eight thirty in the morning, and, her cellphone penibly stuck between her ear and shoulder as she struggled to zip her jacket to protect herself from the freezing cold, Erin tried to swallow her disappointment.

“Aye I’m sorry love, it looks like you’re going to have to get a cab,” her Ma announced before yelling something at her Granda in the distance.

Erin couldn’t help but notice the fact that she didn’t seem that sorry, not at all in fact. “Your Da was going to come get you, but there’s a problem of some kind where the reception is, and he had to take Orla.”

Erin nodded, even though her Ma couldn’t see her. “Yeah, sure. I’ll just - ”

“We’ll give you the money back for the cab when you arrive. Alright, I gotta go love, we’re checking the hair accessories for the big day - see you in a bit.” And with that, she hung up.

Well.

Here went her big welcome home, eh.

Again, it was nothing, though, she reasoned. She was a grown up now, of course she understood that something had come up, and that this all delayed their big reunion from only an hour, tops. So really, there was no reason to get upset.

None.

She wished she wasn’t getting upset.

From what she told her, Clare would be putting together gift bags now, and there was absolutely no doubt that Michelle was still snoring. Pocketing her cell as best as she could, Erin bit the inside of her cheek and started looking for the only plan B she had left, ignoring the burning in her eyes. It really was nothing - she’ll be fine.

It didn’t matter that she took forever to get a cab, for some reason, or that her luggage fell over her foot when they tried to put it in the truck, or that her handbag crashed on the floor and spilled everywhere.

Erin did know she tended to be over dramatic - and yes, maybe borderline crazy, Ma wasn't completely wrong - but she was more mature now, so instead of getting riled up, instead of being crushed by the fact that her family didn’t seem to have missed her as much as she did them, and that the land she grew up on was sending her sign after sign that she wasn’t welcomed back, Erin breathed.

Instead of being violently overwhelmed by memories at every corner of the place she’d grown up in, the place where they met and it all began, she did - she tried to breathe, slowly, carefully, squeezing her scarf in her hand a little too tight.

(That was another thing about your close ones not coming to get you at the airport after you left your country to run away: there wasn’t much to distract you from the memories you were running away from.)

She wouldn’t cry. She was just tired, and being stupid, and she wasn’t coming home with puffy red eyes - no way.

They passed the mall they all used to hang out at, and her throat tightened so much, it felt like the air had left the inside of the car. She saw the movie theater he was always so eager to bring her to in the distance, and a familiar pang of missing shot through her chest. Her heart twisted that particular way when they drove by the hiding spot of their early days, but even though she wondered how she was still holding her tears, she did.

After what felt like an eternity, the car finally pulled up her street, and Erin hadn’t shed one silly tear. She’d done it. She could do it.

By the time she pushed their small barrier and started for the couple of stairs, all Erin wanted was to collapse into bed and black out. Orla and Da wouldn’t be home, Ana would probably still be asleep, and given the day and time, Grandda would have gone for his walk. She’d give a big hug to Ma and Aunt Sarah, pretext a headache, and go lie down.

As she struggled to get her bags through the door while keeping the damn thing open, Erin shouted, cursing herself at how strangled her voice sounded. “I’m home!”

Finally managing to get everything and herself inside, she collapsed on the wall behind her, only now taking in the wallpaper, the coat hangers, the shoes by the entry.

Damn - she was home.

The emotion was so striking, she didn’t quite have the time to stop the tears from welling up in her yes, taken by surprise.

She moved before it all became too much and shrugged off her coat, feeling her insides warm at the familiar surroundings, and yet her heart ache at not having the usual voices that went with it, the faces that she wanted so much to see. She shouted again, but there was still no response.

Ma and aunt Sarah must have had something to do, then. It was fine, she thought as she pushed the living door open. It was, she’d just grab a glass of water and -

“SURPRISE!”

And just like that, Saturday Night started playing from somewhere, overcoming the shouting and the party whistles that had broken the silence so suddenly, Erin had jumped out, her back hitting doorframe behind her. There was colours and and noise and arms waving in every direction, and Erin vaguely realized that she was covered in confetti that matched the balloons and the hats.

Somehow, she noticed that they all had one: Michelle, up on the sofa, Clare, jumping in place at the other side of the room, Orla and the giant teddy bear she was holding. Anna, her pink one stuck on top of her mass of blond hair. Aunt Sarah and Grandda, both holding hands and arboring the same green one. Her Ma, her Da, tears in their eyes, huge grins on their faces, red and yellow ones falling over.

Her brain had stopped functionning, so she couldn't be sure, but Erin thought that her legs were giving out.

Before they did, though, both her parents closed the distance and hugged her close, whispering things she couldn't quite make sense of just yet. Their voices in her ear, their smell surrounding her, Erin broke her promise to herself, and finally let the tears come flooding as she held them back as close as she could.

She was home.

#erin x james #james x erin #jerin #derry girls #fanfiction #mine

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shadowhuntertrash · 3 years

Text

High Notes

Chapter Twelve

characters belong to Cassandra Clare

song: i won't let go by rascal flatts

It didn’t take them long to get there. Thomas smiled widely at the sign before turning his excited expression to Alastair and hitting his arm lightly and he shifted restlessly in his seat. “I love the zoo.” He said and it came out a little breathless which made both of them laugh as Alastair bent over Thomas to grab something in the glove compartment.

"I know you do, Lucie told me a while ago.” Alastair answered easily. Thomas couldn’t help but wonder how long ago Lucie told him that and how he remembered. Alastair passed him a hat and sunglasses and Thomas threw him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I honestly hate going out in public sometimes.” He said with a laugh as he put the hat on, which didn’t help conceal much but anything was better than nothing.

He slid the sunglasses on and wiggled his eyebrows at Alastair who laughed and put his own on. Thomas hesitated before getting out of the car cursing his height quietly because if he was being honest it was a dead giveaway.

Thomas didn’t realize he had spoken loud enough for Alastair to hear but after a moment Alastair had his door open and was standing in front of him with a silly grin on his face. “I love your height. It compliments mine, plus you’re the perfect height to hug and I love it.” Thomas laughed and his automatic response was to hug him tightly but he held himself back, the effort left his stomach hurting.

Alastair gave him a knowing smile that was soft around the edges before stepping back so Thomas could get out of the car. Thomas stretched as he got out and reveled in the way Alastair’s eyes immediately went to the strip of skin that was showing. He smirked, glad he wasn’t the only one who did that.

The zoo was relatively busy but Thomas had seen worse. A teenager was working the front desk, maybe three or four years younger than them, a safari hat on her head which contrasted drastically with the unimpressed look on her face.

“Welcome to the zoo,” The girl said, her voice monotone. She looked as if she didn’t want to be there at all. She looked up from her nails and took a double-take when she saw the men standing in front of her, her mouth falling open slightly as she straightened hastily. “I-I, I mean you’re-” She cut off again as if she simply couldn’t imagine they were there.

Alastair laughed and smiled at her charmingly as Thomas did the same. “What’s your name?” Thomas asked kindly, her hazel eyes turned to him, her pupils widening slightly. “M-Maribelle.” She said, her voice quiet and full of a sort of wonder that made Thomas happy and uncomfortable at the same time.

“Well, Maribelle, may we have two tickets? And if you don’t mind, if anyone asks about us just say you didn’t see us.” Alastair said with a wink but Thomas could see the tension in the way his shoulders were set. Thomas wanted to reach out to him but kept his hands at his sides and flashed Maribelle the most convincing smile he could muster under the circumstances.

Maribelle hurriedly pulled out three tickets and all but shoved them into Alastair’s hands. “Can you sign the third ticket?” She said, her voice still sounded dazed and excited. Alastair laughed quietly and nodded as he signed his name passing the small paper to Thomas who shook his head and laughed suddenly self-conscious. After all, she hadn’t asked for his she’d asked for Alastair’s which made sense because everyone liked Alastair and there weren’t many people who liked Thomas.

Alastair gave him an odd look, the beginning of a frown dancing around his lips. He looked like he was about to say something when Maribelle cut in with a dreamy sigh. “Oh please? I would love to have yours too.” Thomas smoothed his face in an attempt to hide his shock and smiled pleasantly.

“Alright.” He said softly before signing his name quickly. He handed the spare ticket back to Maribelle with a smile. “Thank you very much.” He said and Alastair nodded along. Maribelle smiled widely and nodded a little too fast. “Of course, thank you so much for signing this.” She said excitedly as she waved the ticket around before stuffing it in her pocket. Thomas and Alastair laughed and waved as they headed inside.

Thomas had always loved the zoo because there was something about the smell and the atmosphere that brought back memories of going to the zoo with his family. They hadn’t been in quite a long time but Thomas couldn’t help the wave of peacefulness that washed over him when they stepped up to the large map that told them where all the animals were.

“Where are we going first?” Alastair asked his eyes falling on Thomas with an excited smile. Thomas looked over the map and his eyes fell on the giraffes. “Come on, come on, come on.” Thomas mumbled dragging Alastair by the wrist to the giraffes.

Alastair laughed and let himself be dragged. They stopped when they finally got to the large animals. Thomas had his head tilted back as he smiled widely at the animals. He’d always loved giraffes, he didn’t know why but he absolutely adored them. He turned to Alastair and started talking before he could think better of it.

“Did you know giraffes are the tallest mammals on earth? Their legs alone are taller than most people, isn’t that weird? They can move as fast as thirty miles per hour but they make it seem so smooth, it’s insane.” Thomas couldn’t keep the wonder out of his voice. “Have you ever seen giraffes drink water from the ground?” He turned to Alastair with a laugh. “Their necks are too long to reach the ground and so they have to do this awkward leg bend thing to reach the ground.”

Thomas opened his mouth to say more but Alastair was looking at him with a small smile that made him instantly realize he was rambling. He blushed a deep red and looked away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to rant.” He said determined to keep quiet because this was the first date and Thomas had to go on and rant about giraffes out of everything.

Alastair’s eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head quickly. “No, no you’re totally fine. It was cute, I didn’t realize you knew so much about giraffes.” Thomas blushed again and let out an awkward laugh.

Alastair frowned. “Thomas, I really don’t mind. I like when you ramble, your face lights up and you get this smile that’s so open.” Alastair’s cheeks darkened and Thomas couldn’t hold back the smile that broke through at Alastair’s words. “I like it.” He finished lamely. Thomas laughed quietly and smiled tentatively at him.

They went to the lions next and laughed at the lioness who was trying to hunt the zebras in the exhibit next to her. Kids were squealing all over the place as she attacked the glass the large wall that separated her from the zebra.

Alastair picked a few more spots and they had seen five exhibits by the time Thomas turned around to see a group of about five teenaged girls walking over to them.

Damn.

He put on a rather forced smile and waved. The girl’s whispers turned to squeals and they came up closer to Alastair and Thomas. “Hello.” Alastair said and Thomas had to admit he seemed a lot more sincere in his excitement to meet fans.

Thomas had always felt bad about the fact that he wasn’t as open or excited to see fans. He was forever grateful to all of them because he wouldn’t be who he was now without their love and support but every time he met one he couldn’t help the doubt and anxiety that crept in.

Alastair moved towards the girls and Thomas followed him like a lost puppy, an awkward mix of trying to hide behind Alastair and being cursed with giant genes that didn’t let him hide behind anything.

The girls asked for a quick picture which lead to pulling the attention of a few onlookers who also asked for pictures. Suddenly there were way too many people here.

Thomas could feel his stomach begin to drop and his hands get clammy. His smile was starting to fall and everyone was standing a little too close. Thomas cursed silently and looked over to find Alastair but felt another shock of anxiety spike through him when he realized he wasn’t anywhere in sight. His body was shaking and he couldn’t breathe properly.

No, no, no, no. Not here.

Thomas wasn’t aware of much other than the distinct lack of Alastair. He was spinning around trying to find him but his vision was blurry and there wasn’t much he could do to fight the dimming of his sight.

People were trying to talk to him but their words didn’t make sense. Why were there so many people?

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder and someone’s face was too close. He stumbled backward, too aware of the awkward way he was walking and everyone’s eyes on him but unable to do anything.

There was another hand on his shoulder and he flinched away from it. Tears were falling down his face and he was mortally embarrassed which only made everything so much worse.

“Hey, Thomas, hey. Listen to my voice, you’re okay. It’s just me. It’s Alastair. You’re okay.” Thomas’s mind didn’t register anything he said other than Alastair.

Alastair, Alastair, Alastair.

“Thomas, I have to touch you for a minute but I’ll stop soon, okay? I promise.” Thomas tensed when a light weight landed on the small of his back. Alastair was taking him somewhere but he was too far gone to care where or what was happening.

After an undetermined amount of time, Thomas was being lowered to the ground and Alastair’s face was in front of him. “Hey, Thomas you have to slow your breathing.” Alastair was talking calmly but Thomas could see the panic in his eyes.

Thomas felt laughter bubble up in his chest and he laughed harshly. He probably sounded insane but he couldn’t stop. His tears were choking the laughter but he couldn’t stop. Alastair looked alarmed and he made a move to reach out to Thomas before remembering himself and pulling his hands back.

A whimper slipped out of Thomas’s mouth as he reached blindly for Alastair who gripped his hands tightly. “Okay, Thomas. We’re gonna breathe, in and out.” Alastair exaggerated his breathing for Thomas and brought Thomas’s hand up to his chest.

Thomas tried to follow his movements but after what felt like hours with nothing getting better he sobbed harder and gripped Alastair’s shirt loosely. “I can’t- I can’t breathe.” Alastair made a distressed noise and pulled Thomas fully into his arms.

Thomas curled into him slightly when the initial shock of someone holding him wore off. Thomas wrapped his arms around Alastair’s waist and rested his forehead against Alastair’s neck. Alastair ran his hands through Thomas’s hair.

“You’re okay, sweetheart.” He said softly, kissing Thomas’s head softly. Thomas made a small sound and relaxed slightly into Alastair who had started singing softly. Thomas couldn’t exactly explain why Alastair calling him ‘sweetheart’ made him feel so calm but it was oddly reassuring.

Alastair starting singing words softly as he continued to run his fingers through Thomas’s hair.

It's like a storm

That cuts a path

It breaks your will

It feels like that

You think you're lost

But you’re not lost on your own

You're not alone

Thomas could feel his breaths evening out and his heart that had been racing was now slowing down to an almost normal speed.

I will stand by you

I will help you through

When you've done all you can do

If you can't cope

I will dry your eyes

I will fight your fight

I will hold you tight

And I won't let go

Thomas almost laughed at how emotional this song was making him. His eyes were burning and this time it wasn’t from lack of oxygen.

It hurts my heart

To see you cry

I know it's dark

This part of life

Oh it finds us all (finds us all)

And we're too small

To stop the rain

Oh but when it rains

I will stand by you

I will help you through

When you've done all you can do

And you can't cope

I will dry your eyes

I will fight your fight

I will hold you tight

And I won't let you fall

Thomas found Alastair’s hand and held it tightly as he buried his face in Alastair’s neck. The after-effects of the panic attack were making him tired and his head felt weird but he just relaxed further into Alastair’s arms when he felt the hold on him tighten.

Don't be afraid to fall

I'm right here to catch you

I won't let you down

It won't get you down

You're gonna make it

Yeah I know you can make it

'Cause I will stand by you

I will help you through

When you've done all you can do

And you can't cope

And I will dry your eyes

I will fight your fight

I will hold you tight

And I won't let go

Oh I'm gonna hold you

And I won't let go

Won't let you go

No, I won't

When Alastair stopped singing it was silent for a few minutes until Alastair’s hands stilled in his hair and he felt Alastair’s head drop to his. “You okay?” He asked quietly. Thomas couldn’t find his voice quite yet so he just nodded.

Thomas was mortified because not only had he just had another panic attack in front of Alastair but he had ruined their first date with it. Their date. The zoo.

The zoo.

He jerked away and looked around wildly trying to decipher where they were and if there were people. He felt a light weight on his chin and let Alastair guide his gaze back to him. “You’re okay, we’re in a bathroom but it’s closed so there’s no one here. It’s just us. You’re okay, love.” Thomas found himself nodding because even when he was panicking he trusted Alastair.

Alastair held his eyes for a few moments before he sighed and pulled Thomas back in for another hug. “You scared me.” He said quietly. Thomas flinched slightly and closed his eyes tightly.

He felt awful for scaring Alastair, he hadn’t meant to. This time it was Thomas who ran his fingers through Alastair’s hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mea-” He was cut off by Alastair leaning back with a frown.

“God no, that’s not- Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just meant that was worse than usual.” Thomas looked away from Alastair, a sick feeling in his gut.

Worse than usual. Than usual.

He felt weak. Like he wasn’t in control when that’s the only thing he wanted. He needed to have control of certain situations but here he was unable to control himself. He hated how this could happen at any minute. How he could be so happy one minute, and the next he felt like he was dying.

He felt shame wash over him. He was weak. He was weak and he didn’t deserve Alastair nor did Alastair deserve to have to put up with his constant anxiety.

Shit, shit, shit.

Thomas was yanked out of his spiral of self-depreciation when he felt warm lips on his. Alastair kissed like he did everything, gracefully and with care. Thomas brought his hand up to cup Alastair’s cheek as he deepened the kiss. He had no doubt that Alastair had kissed him to bring him out of his head and he appreciated it more than he would ever know.

Alastair’s hands were in his hair, pulling lightly as his tongue collided with Thomas’s. It was rougher than their other kisses but Thomas found he didn’t mind it all that much. When they finally pulled back, both panting lightly with their foreheads pressed together Thomas smiled at him.

Alastair smiled back, his hands were still woven into Thomas’s hair. “Be my boyfriend?” Thomas couldn’t help the laugh that escaped but quickly cut it off when a flicker of uncertainty crossed Alastair’s face.

“I would love to but are you sure?” Thomas asked quietly, his eyes falling shut so he didn’t have to look at Alastair who made a confused sound and lifted a hand to Thomas’s face. “I just mean- didn’t I ruin the date? We were only here for thirty minutes and then I had a panic attack and ruined everything. Are you sure you want to go out with me?”

It was silent for a minute and Thomas felt a jolt of fear go through him at the thought of Alastair changing his mind even though he had been the one to point out why he shouldn’t. Thomas couldn’t blame him if he did change his mind.

Eventually, Alastair pulled away and started talking. “Thomas, look at me.” He reluctantly opened his eyes again to see a fierce look on Alastair’s face. “First and foremost, I very much want to be your boyfriend. These panic attacks are a part of you and that’s okay. I’m not going to leave just because you have anxiety, Thomas. It was my fault anyway, I should have picked somewhere with fewer people. I set it off, I’m sorry.”

Thomas stared at him for a long time before shaking his head with a goofy smile. “Alastair Carstairs you sure are one of a kind. That was not your fault, there were just too many people. How would you know that would set me off, cariño?"

“Oh, that slipped out. Just-just ignore that.” Alastair made a tsk sound and shook his head. “Oh, no no. What does it mean?” Thomas blushed and brought his hands up to cover his face. “Kind of- well like the Spanish version of dear?” Thomas said awkwardly. Alastair raised his eyebrow with an amused quirk of his lip. “Is that a question or an answer?” Thomas blushed further but his laugh contradicted his embarrassment.

A smile crept up on Alastair’s face, one Thomas had never seen before. It could only be described as soft. “What did you just call me?” Thomas’s eyebrows came together as he thought, not really remembering. “Umm, Alastair?” He laughed and shook his head before attempting in a terrible Spanish accent, "Cariño?" Thomas blushed and laughed nervously.

Alastair stood up and stretched before reaching a hand down to Thomas. Alastair didn’t let go of his hand when he stood up like Thomas thought, instead he used it to bring Thomas closer to him. Alastair rested his head on his chest and Thomas smiled contently as he brought his hands up to run his fingers through the dark boy's hair.

Alastair pulled away from him with a devious smile. “Boyfriends then?” Thomas rolled his eyes but he was hit with a feeling so big that it almost hurt. It took him a minute to recognize it but when he did he tightened his hold on Alastair, Alastair Carstairs, his boyfriend. He could definitely get used to that.

Thomas used his finger to tip Alastair’s head up. “Boyfriends.” He said quietly.

They were both smiling when their lips met.

tag list: @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd (please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for new chapters <3)

#high notes #high notes: chapter twelve #thomas and alastair #thomas x alastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #fluff #dates

36 notes · View notes

harryedpotter1 · 2 years

Text

2nd May 1998

“Are you ready, my little dove?”

“Of course..”

I looked away from the star lit sky.

To the man I once loved

Love that no longer lives inside me

And it’s too late now.

Too late to take back everything.

Everything I gave him.

We are forever bonded

We are connected by a chain

A curse that I chose upon myself.

A fate that was already set before I could even consent to..

A birthright given to me even before I was even a mere thought to my parents.

“You know I love you, right?”

He’s trying to make me look into his eyes

And I can't help but look away.

Because the past four months I have been with him, I've been trying to find something in them.

In his eyes.

Trying to find the thing I once fell in love with.

Trying to remind myself why I chose him over my friends

But I can’t find anything

I can’t find the man I fell in love with.

There’s nothing in him.

He was like a snake.

Shedding his skin and slowly disappearing with it.

Red coating the eyes I fell in love with.

And evil eating away at his soul.

He was gone.

“Of course” I muttered

He stares

He wants me to repeat those words back to him.

He wants me to say that I love him. That I’m not going to betray him

That our love is eternal

And so I say it.

“ I love you too…Tom”

……………..

29 October 1989

“Do you ever wonder what life is like past Hogwarts?”

He laughed.

“Clare, it’s only your first year here. Why are you already thinking about life beyond hogwarts?”

I looked up at him, and his smile dropped.

The tears were dripping down so fast, I couldn’t hold them in anymore.

And I told him everything. From what my mother said to me, to the curse, and the self hatred that’s growing inside me.

And he truly listened.

And when I finally stopped rambling, he looked into my eyes and smiled.

“ Clare, I can promise you one thing. I will always protect you from whatever is past these castle walls.”

And my heart was warm.

And I felt heard

Safe even.

“Do you want me to take you on a broom ride to my favorite place?”

I smiled

“Of course, Billy”

He rolled his eyes.

But the slight smile on his face could tell me he wasn’t mad.

Not even one bit.

“ Stop calling me billy and maybe I’ll let you take lead on the broom”

“Deal.”

And we made our way to the quidditch field.

“ Thanks for listening by the way, you didn’t have to….”

“Clare, I’m always here for you.”

“and I’m always here for you too, William”

…………….

1st January 1998

“ William?”

“Where is she!”

Today is the date.

“Who? Clare?”

And I have to find her before it happens.

Before she was gone.

“ Clara! Just tell me where Clare is now!”

“She’s upstairs! Why? Are you ok-”

I make my way upstairs, ignoring all of Clara’s question

“William! What is going on!”

I hear her from a distance, making the way up the stairs.

I’m opening every door trying to find which room could be her’s.

Until I open one door.

And I noticed a gryffindor scarf.

My gryffindor scarf.

The one with my initials.

The one I gave her my seventh year.

After I told her I loved her.

Everything else in her room was gone.

Besides that

She was gone.

And I was too late.

“ William! Can you please tell me why you’re barging into my hou-”

She stopped talking when she realized.

Realized that Clare is gone.

And a silence filled the air.

A silence so loud

It's yelling at me

Telling me that I'm too late.

……………..

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taleasnewastime · 4 years

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There’s no way

Jin x reader genre: fluff word count: 3.3k

a/n: This is basically just a whole ramble based off the song “There’s no way” by Lauv and Julia Michaels. Hope you enjoy and it’s not too much waffle!

The film you were watching with the boys was slowly coming to an end as you felt a yawn leave your mouth. You worked with the boys and it had become a sort of weird tradition that when you were home and had a day off you would come round and watch a film together. Tonight, you were watching You’ve Got Mail as it was new on Netflix. It was one of your all-time favourite films so you forced yourself to stay awake throughout although you were knackered from your countless days of working.

Just as Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks started making out in the park you kicked the blankets off you making Jin jump next to you.

“Right if I don’t go now, I don’t think I will ever go,” you leap off the sofa.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Yoongi states.

“Because I live 5 minutes down the road and I have a perfectly good bed there and then it means I won’t have to wake up tomorrow morning and deal with you lot.”

“Fair enough, just saying that the offer is always there.”

“Thanks Yoongi,” you smile at him as you start walking towards the door.

“Don’t forget we’re all going to that bar tomorrow to celebrate,” Jimin shouts as you head closer to the door.

“Yeah yeah, I know, see you guys there at 8.”

You finally reach the door and start to put your shoes on.

“You know, Yoongi is right, you are always welcome to stay over.” You hadn't realised Jin had followed you to the door until he spoke.

As you finish putting your shoes on you stand up and put your jacket round your shoulders.

“And as I said to Yoongi, I appreciate the offer but I have a perfectly decent flat just 5 minutes away,” you look up into Jins eyes and smile. “Thanks for tonight. And thanks for being on my side for watching You’ve Got Mail. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow? Is Clare going to be joining us?”

“Yeah, tomorrow. I think she’ll be there. I mean I’ve invited her but we’re kind of going through a rough patch at the moment so who knows what she’ll do.”

“Oh, I’m sorry Jin, I didn’t realise.”

Clare was Jin current girlfriend. From what you knew the two of them had only been going out for a few months so you were surprised when he said things weren’t going well.

“No worries. To tell you the truth it's not been good for a while now,” he leans against the wall and runs a hand over his face. “What about you?”

“What?” He looks into your eyes as you look back at him confused.

“Are you bringing anyone tomorrow?” He says it so seriously, eyes not leaving yours.

“Nope. You know how it goes, if you have somebody then I don’t, and if I have somebody, you don’t.” A smile breaks onto his face at this long-standing joke. For as long as you had known Jin there was never a moment when you had either both been with somebody at the same time or both been single. Much to your dismay.

“So, I guess I will just see you tomorrow then,” he says softly.

“Yep, tomorrow,” you reply just as softly.

You stand staring at each other for what felt like hours, but is really just a few seconds, before you finally turn and open the door, walking through it. You give him one last smile as you close the door and head home.

The next night comes around fast. Mainly because you had a hectic morning of doing odd jobs. Before you know it you are walking into the loud bar who’s address you’d been sent by Jimin. As you make your way to the bar you recognise a few faces of people you work with you smile at them as you go to get a drink.

“You finally made it,” a voice almost shouts out next to you.

“I would call this being on time,” you turn to smile at Jimin.

“We won't count the minutes, but if we were to, I’d say you were 13 minutes late,” you laugh at him as he gives you a hug. “13 minutes late or not I’m glad you came,” he whispers into your ear.

“I mean I think I’m probably somehow contractually obliged to come tonight.”

“Don’t lie, you love coming to these things.”

“Come on let's just get a drink.”

Jimin orders you both a drink and picks them both up when they are placed in front of him. Without saying anything he walks away from you leaving you to trail behind. He finally places the drinks down on a corner table and as you reach to take a sip you are embraced in yet another hug.

“Y/N, you came,” Jungkook squeezes you a tad too tightly.

“Why are you all assuming I wouldn’t have come?” You pout slightly as Jungkook pulls away.

“Because your Y/N,” Hoseok puts an arm around your shoulder squeezing slightly and smiling.

“And what the hell does that mean.”

“It means, you’re like me,” Yoogni stays seated as he looks up at you. “You wouldn’t be here unless you had to be.”

You simply scoff in response. “I mean am I that boring and predictable?”

“Hey, are you calling me boring and predictable?” Yoongi mocks hurt, everyone else laughing.

You roll your eyes and take a sip of your drink. “And here I was going to say it's nice to see you guys,” you glance around the room. “Where are the others anyway?”

“Jins over talking to someone by the snacks I think.”

You immediately look towards the snack table, only to try and hide you quick reaction looking back to Jimin. “And Tae and Joon?”

“Oh right, I think I heard them talking about getting some more drinks.”

You hum in response and the conversation moves on. As it does you start to tune out and turn back to look over to the snack table. It had only been a day, less than that, probably only a few hours, since you’d seen Jin but you couldn’t wait to see him again. As someone moved away from the table you caught sight of him. He had a plate in his hand and he was chatting to someone next to him. One of them obviously said something funny because Jins face lights up as his head rolls back slightly into a big laugh. Although you were too far away to hear it you can imagine the sound and a slight smile takes form on your face. You turn back to the conversation going on at the table in front of you, smile still on your face, as you meet Yoongis eyes. The smile drops from your face as if you have been caught in some awful act but he just gives you a sad smile in acknowledgement. Your face heats up slightly as you ignore Yoongi and try to listen to what Hoseok is saying, adding your own comments and jokes to the mix.

“Guys, the food tonight is some of the best I’ve had at one of these things. I brought back a plate for you to have but if you want more you should go now, saw a few people pigging out so don’t think it's going to last.” A plate is set down on the table in front of you and Jungkook immediately grabs some sandwiches. “Hey Y/N,” you look to see Jin smiling down at you.

“Hey,” you smile back up at him.

You continue to stare into each other's eyes for a second more before he interrupts. “If you want any of that food I’d get in quick.”

You turn to see the plate is nearly empty as each of the boys is almost shovelling the food into their mouths. You give a big laugh as you watch.

You turn back to Jin smile still on your face to see him already looking at you. You smile falters slightly as you aren’t expecting him to be looking your way. “Where’s Clare then?” You ask.

“Oh, um, she couldn’t make it,” the smile that was on his face falls.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t worry about it, she had something else going on anyway.”

“Right,” you sigh. “You know, I should socialise with other people,” you clap your hands together, looking around the room. “As much as I love hanging out with you guys, I don’t want to give anyone the wrong impression that I have favourites. And as Yoongi so rightly pointed out, this is a works party and I should probably mingle with some other people.”

“But I am your favourite right?” Jimin pouts at you.

“Of course, Chim,” you beam at him as you pick up you glass and give a slight wave at them all as you walk off.

For the rest of the night you talk to your work colleagues and get slightly inebriated. It's not until the music starts to get louder and room is made for people to dance that you realise how drunk you truly are. You and another girl dance over to where the space has been cleared and start jumping around to the music. You hadn’t seen any of the boys since you left them earlier in the night so you couldn’t help but smile when Jimin comes bounding over.

“Chim!” You almost scream, wrapping him in a tight hug.

He laughs in your arms and starts to rock you both to the music before taking your arms and twirling around. You can’t stop laughing as you both dance together, starting to involve your friend too.

“Hobi!” Jimin suddenly screams trying to get the mans attention, arms flailing in the air. Hobi spins around and his face erupts into a beaming smile at the sight of Jimin. Strutting over he joins your growing circle of dancers. As more and more people join and as the night goes on you became more and more delirious, both from laughing and alcohol.

Mid laugh you make eye contact with Jin who’s stood on his own at the edge of the crowd of dancers. You immediately start making your way over to him, smile never leaving your face.

“Why aren’t you dancing?” You ask.

“You know I’m not the best dancer.”

“Pull the other one, you are 10 times better than me and I’m still out there shaking my ass,” you laugh, demonstrating the moves you were previously doing on the dance floor.

“Oh, I saw,” he states under his breath. “I’m happy to observe tonight.”

“No come on, I am not having that.”

And with that you take his hand and start dragging him back to the spot you previously occupied. You ignore the feeling in the hand that is holding his, but when you get to your destination and let it go you miss the feeling. Putting those thoughts to the back of your mind, you go back to dancing. It takes him a few minutes but in no time Jin joins in with everyone and is soon doing the craziest dances. But it doesn’t take long for a wave of sleep to come over you. One second the life of the party, the next second you wish you were tucked up in bed.

“I think it’s my bed time,” Jin has to lean down so you can speak into his ear.

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

You grab your coat on the way out and try putting it on as you walk down the steps outside, which was a bad decision as you stumble slightly.

“Easy there,” Jin pulls you into him so you don’t fall. You laugh almost hysterically as you both make your way down the rest of the steps. “How much did you have to drink tonight?”

“I lost count when Jimin started bring me shots.”

“And this is why you should never go on a night out with Jimin.”

“Hey, he’s fun. And I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, not sure how much of that I believe. Shall I call you a taxi?”

“Nah, I think I’ll walk.”

Jins head shoots to you. “No, I don’t think you will.”

“I’m a big girl, I’ve walked myself home many times, I’m sure I won’t get lost,” you button up your coat and pull your bag in closer readying yourself for the walk home. It was only a 15-minute walk anyway.

“It’s not you getting lost I’m worried about Y/N.”

“Well there should be nothing to worry about then,” you smile up at him sarcastically. “It’s been a lovely night Jin, thanks for dancing with me.”

“Y/N.”

“Oh and thanks for bring that plate of food over at the start of the night,” you ignore him, not giving him a chance to get a work in.

“Y/N.”

“Not that I had much of the food as the boys gobbled it before I got a look in.”

“Y/N,” Jin almost shouts to get you to stop talking and it works as you stare at him in shocked silence. “If you will let me talk, I was going to say that I will walk you home.”

“Oh no need, I know the way.”

Jin sighs but couldn’t help the slight laugh that leaves his lips. “I’m not worried about you getting lost Y/N. If you won’t get a taxi, I won’t let you walk home alone.”

“Fine,” you say stubbornly. “You know, sometimes it feels like you’re my dad.”

“Well sometimes I feel like I’m the dad of 6 boys, so what’s the difference if I add one more person to that.”

“Come on then, at the moment you should be more concerned about me catching a cold. If you’re walking me home let's go,” you roll your eyes as you start walking off.

He soon catches you up and you fall into a steady rhythm. You start talking easily about the night you had just had, laughing at things that you’d both heard that night and you smile to yourself at how nice it is. As you walk you felt the tension between the two of you build, hands occasionally brushing against one another. The tension between the two of you wasn’t unusual and if you were honest you had always felt like you and Jin would eventually get together but the timing was never right.

As you walked, talked and laughed you felt so happy. You wished you could make time stop and forget everyone and everything except the two of you. But you remained calm and hid your feelings from him, though you didn’t think you ever did a good job. Any idiot could probably tell how in love with him you were.

15 minutes later you arrive at your door. As you push open the door and start walking in Jin stays still.

“Not coming in?” You turn around to face him and stand so you are holding the door open.

“I should probably head home too.”

“At least come in for a drink while you wait for a taxi.”

“I think I’ll walk.”

“Is this my queue to offer to walk you home?” You roll your eyes at him and a light chuckle leaves his lips.

“It’s a 5-minute walk, I think I’d be home and in bed by the time a taxi was to even consider turning up.”

“You sure it’s not just because you don’t want to spend more time with me,” you mock as a pout comes to your lips.

“You know that I would spend every second with you if I could.”

You heart stops.

“So why don’t you come in?” Your question comes out almost as a whisper.

Jin sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s been a long night. I think I just need some sleep.”

“Oh,” is all you can think to say as your eyes drop to the floor. His feet soon come into your sight and you feel his hand on your cheek. He lifts you head so you are looking at him again.

“I had a really nice night. We’ll see each other again soon, yeah?”

“I’m sure we’ll probably see each other at work on Monday,” you smile sadly at him.

He slowly leans into you and you remain still. Eyes still locked to his. Heart pounding in your chest. As he inches closer you suddenly come to your senses and turn your head at the last minute, pulling him into a hug to cover up whatever was about to happen.

As you pull away you look back at him and say, “well I hope Clare is OK and you can hang out on the weekend.”

His hand scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, same.”

A few more awkward moments pass.

“Well I should head off.”

“Thanks for walking me home. And get home safe yourself, text me when you get in so I know your OK.”

“Of course,” he says before heading off into the night.

It had been almost a week since that night and you hadn’t seen or spoken to Jin since. The last text you received from him was him saying that he had got home safely, which you hadn’t replied to. So, you were surprised when you saw his name on your phone screen indicating that he was calling you.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Have you got a boyfriend?”

You were confused by the statement and even held your phone out to check it was Jin you were talking to.

“What?”

“You heard me, have you got a boyfriend? Or have you been on dates with anyone recently that you could see becoming your boyfriend?”

“What are you on about Jin?”

“Just answer the question, Y/N.”

“No Jin, I don’t have a boyfriend. You only saw me last week, and I had no boyfriend, or potential boyfriend then, who do you think I am?” You laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Me and Clare have broken up.”

“Oh,” you find yourself at a loss for words again. “I’m sorry to hear that Jin.”

“Don’t be, like I said it’s been bad for a while.”

“What has this got to do with me having a boyfriend?”

“Whenever I break up with someone you are always fresh into a relationship, I just wanted to check.”

“Seriously?” You laugh.

“Yeah, because if you had a boyfriend then I couldn’t ask you out on a date.”

You heart stops. Why does it always do that around this man?

“What? Jin you’ve just broken up with your girlfriend and you’re asking me on a date?”

“If I wait much longer my chance will be gone. I’ve wanted to go out with for a while but time has never lined up. Well, now it’s lining up and I want to go on a date with you.”

“I don’t want to be just a rebound for you Jin.”

“Y/N, you could never be a rebound,” he says sternly. “You know how much I care for you.”

“OK,” a smile takes over your face, your heart taking over from your mind.

“OK?” He says in slight shock.

“OK!” You say smile now fully taking over your face and heart pounding in your chest as you think about the date you have been imagining for so long that is finally going to happen.

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possessingtheproperspirit · 3 years

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20 Questions for Writers

Thanks for the tag @thequibblah and @clare-with-no-i! <3

How many works do you have on AO3?

35.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

205,171. Half of that is just The Price We Pay.

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3, two - The Mindy Project (Danny and Mindy <3) and HP. Way back before the dawn of time, I had another account on FFN which I posted ER and Without a Trace fics on. That got deleted in a fit of embarrassment sometime in the past ten years.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Price We Pay

As the summer before their sixth year comes to an end, Sirius, Remus, Lily and James consider how things may be different on their return to Hogwarts. When Sirius finally breaks free from his toxic home, it should be a fresh start - but unfortunately, it's the start of a spiral that will threaten the foundations of friendship, and change their lives irrevocably. Canon multichap. Rating: T

2. Uninvited

With NEWTs looming, friends gather at the Potters' cottage in Wales to study and let off steam during the Easter holidays of their seventh year. Canon, oneshot. Rating: T

3. Drawn

It's nearly the end of the year, and once again, Lily finds herself drawn in. Maybe now is a good time to stop resisting. Canon, oneshot for Summer of Jily prompt #5: stargazing. Rating: G

4. Quidditch Injuries

Their first time had been gentle, almost peaceful, a delicious waltz in amongst his tangled bed sheets. Afterwards, she’d laid in his arms, and carefully catalogued each emotion, each delicious brush of skin.

This was not at all like that time. Canon, oneshot. Rating: M

5. Expectant

Given her organisational skills, and her Swiss-watch of a uterus, she’s surprised that she’s only just realising this now. Because, as she tracks back in the diary, flicking through the weeks…yep. She’s late.

November 1979 through to July 1980, Lily experiences the highs and lows of pregnancy. Canon, oneshot. Rating: M

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Yes because comments make my day!

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Probably Not Waving But Drowning. That one really poured out of me in a sad little rush, haha.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

A lot of the oneshots are happy (not all of them, though, haha), but I think that Not in a Million Years or Something Good have the happiest, most hopeful endings.

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

No - I just about manage the one universe to write in.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not yet! Let's hope that streak continues...

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

In the loosest sense, yes. Expectant and Quidditch Injuries are my examples of smut, so not like, off the charts stuff, but a bit saucy, you might say.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Again, not that I know of!

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but I'm not against the idea. I would pity the person having to co-write with me though 😂

What’s your all time favorite ship?

Jily and Wolfstar are neck and neck.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I think it's sweet that you think I have the willpower to start something and take my time with it. I write things in a mad rush and then publish them without giving it too much thought. TPWP is my only WIP, but I feel like that doesn't count because I'm publishing as I go.

What are your writing strengths?

Characterisation, dialogue.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I do not plan very far ahead, and am then prone to panic when I realise I have to actually, y'know, take this fic in an actual direction instead of meandering along at a rambling pace.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am not strong enough in any language, except maybe French, if we were being generous, to do this.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

ER! Carter/Abby, baby. ❤

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

I love Not Waving But Drowning and am always a bit sad that hardly anyone has read it. I am also extremely proud of The Price We Pay because I have never maintained a WIP for this many chapters before, and still enjoy writing it (even if chapter 13 felt like pulling teeth for the first three-quarters).

Tagging: @mppmaraudergirl, @theresthesnitch, @emeralddoeadeer, @aeridi0nis

#fic #writing #tagged #jily #wolfstar

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paperclipninja · 3 years

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Younger post-ep ramble 7x01

I joked in my finale ramble at the end of season 6 that the episode was called ‘Forever’ because that’s how long it would feel between seasons...well joke's on me because now, after 587 days, we are FINALLY here. The Younger drought has been a tough one, but we have been generously compensated by getting the first four episodes all at once, which is both exciting and also, turns out, incredibly overwhelming. As usual the thoughts and feelings are many, mostly feelings (read: I am NOT ok) but let’s start off with a delve into the premiere episode, ‘A Decent Proposal’.

The episode picks up within minutes of where the season 6 finale left off, with Diana and Enzo not wasting any time to hot foot it out of their wedding reception and into their happily ever after (Arrivederci bitches!). Of course I’m very happy for Diana and her happiness but there’s only one couple’s happiness that I am on tenterhooks about now that Diva is sorted and that is Charles and Liza, as they watch their sprinklers fizzle out in some sort of awkward, symbolic, anti-climax.

You may recall that mere moments earlier, Charles had popped the question on the dancefloor before the two were separated by an obligatory conga line, and Charles quickly assumes that Liza’s lack of enthusiasm to shout her answer across the reception of another person’s wedding is an answer in itself. As anyone who has read my rambles before knows, I unapologetically fly the Team Charles flag, and let me tell you, despite her supreme stalling techniques (you’re not divorced yet, we should probably speak to the children blah blah), hearing Liza say, ‘my answer is, I love you’, my jaw hit the floor. I’m sorry, did Liza Miller just declare her feelings openly and directly and with absolute certainty??? We’re 33 seconds into the new season and I AM SHOOKETH DARREN.

Speaking of declaring feelings openly and directly, I love absolutely everything about this opening scene. The music choice was perfect and really helped build the moment, as Charles told Liza he understands her hesitation before un-asking her to marry him (so that when the she’s made her mind she can pop the question - I kid you not, this has always been my dream...). The music cutting out and just hearing the crickets as Liza asks if he’s really withdrawing the proposal, his quip about her having to make the next move, assuming he’s still on the market (I love/hate this foreshadowing btw), it is Charles/Liza banter at its best and my sappy heart was soaking up every morsel. Throw in some CGI fireworks and the observation that they are sign (which may or may not play out at a later date) and you have yourself a pretty darn near perfect start to Younger’s final season.

Speaking of talking openly and directly, one of the staples of the Youngerverse, the Maggie morning debrief, is back as our way to gain insight into the thoughts, feelings and ponderings of Liza. Straight off the bat I am very pleased that Maggie has fully committed to ‘Chaz’ for Charles and I’m even happier that we actually hear these two talking about what’s going on because honestly, the last couple of seasons the Maggie/Liza convos, which we traditionally rely on heavily to know where Liza is at and to hear Maggie’s sage/sometimes terrible advice, have been skimmed over or felt rushed. We are also reminded that Liza has indeed seen Charles’ goods (the Empiriconda, she’s meaning the Empiriconda) and that the sex is hot, because we need to have all the information on top of the declarations of love to highlight how their relationship is pretty much perfect so that what transpires is even more painful.

Other things that are painful include the fact that Diana will be decidedly absent for most of the season (to be fair scheduling/covid are pretty legit reasons and in ep 1 we can chalk that up to her honeymoon, so more lamenting on that later), but early on it provides some pretty fab Lauren Diva-worshiping. Donning a baroque print Moschino suit that would’ve made Fran Fine jealous, Lauren is clearly distracted by the responsibility of her interim role at Empirical, as her mother frets about the theme for her 30th birthday party over face-time.

Keeping up the chaotic energy, we also discover that Kelsey has to go and let Quinn know she no longer needs her money (these characters’ ongoing relationship with the woman who has tried to ruin all of them at some point really needs unpacking with a good therapist at this stage) and Josh is in full frantic dad mode because he thinks Clare is trying to kidnap Gemma (lol that Lauren straight up calls her out on it later). Two quick points here:1) love seeing this side of Josh and 2) love Kelsey’s calm, measured reassurance that of course Clare would want her family to meet Gemma. I will say though, Josh meeting Rob for the first time when he’s about to go with Clare and Gemma to Ireland and hearing this guy he doesn’t know from a bar of soap exclaim, ‘I’m just in love with your daughter’ was super unfair. Not cool Clare, not cool.

Kelsey keeps her cool as she breaks the news of her change of heart to our fave resident villain, who comes complete with a bowl of fortune cookies she ominously encourages Kelsey to consult while also enjoying her own fortune, ‘a new love will come into your life’. It’s all very OTT and ridiculous in it’s obvious foreshadowing and I am here for every minute of it because I sincerely love to hate Quinn very much.

My love of all things over the top is further fed by Lauren entering Diana’s office and making her way to the desk - the music, the way Lauren looks at the framed picture of Diana and Enzo before relegating it to the drawer, any moment I was expecting her to utter ‘my precious’ as she became more and more entranced by the power of the neckwear, before Liza abruptly broke the spell by asking what she was doing and warned her off her consideration of claiming Diana’s office as her own. Very much appreciated the continuity later in the episode when Liza is very distressed that Lauren has gone full-Trout with the chunky baubled ornament around her neck, though Lauren is less Invasion of the Body Snatchers and more Nancy Drew at this point, as she has caught wind of Charles’ proposal while reviewing video footage from Diana’s wedding which she decided, for some reason, to show Josh, who was ‘still not interested’ (we hear your words Josh but your face says otherwise). I am very on board the Liza/Lauren dynamic and their ‘circle of trust’ as Liza asks that Lauren keep the proposal to herself (we really haven’t seen the friendship between these two much) and Liza’s gratitude, ‘Thank you...Di-va’, is hilarious, as is the response, ‘my pleasure, Queen’.

We get many fine moments in the office this ep, the first meeting when there are formal announcements and speeches made welcoming Kelsey back...to a conference room of Charles, Liza, Lauren and a random guy we’ve never seen or heard from before and never will again it seems. It makes me laugh that every person in the room except the dude we’ll never know already knows everything but hey, formality is important I guess? The pitch for ‘Little Women in Space’ by an author played by an actress who is friends IRL with Sutton Foster and they were in the musical Little Women together is honestly too much but also just the right amount and this show does meta so well (not to mention Lauren’s excited outburst upon realising her party theme plus her making sure Liza knows that she knows about the proposal. Subtle as a sledgehammer is our Lauren).

One not-so-fine moment is the extremely out of left field resignation of Zane followed by the completely douchey moment of him breaking up with Kelsey via face-time with the line, ‘I love you Kelsey, take care’. I’m sorry, what?? On the one hand, I get it that CMD wasn’t available for the season so in some respects better to deal with it swiftly and move on, but it was very abrupt and strange. I had zero investment in the pairing so it doesn’t overly affect my viewing, but any fans out there shipping those two, are you ok? Because that was a brutal way for a pairing to simply cease to exist.

So we have I love yous being thrown around by Kelsey and Zane as they break up because that makes sense (in retrospect I should’ve seen what was coming because these words clearly mean NOTHING *breathes deeply, exhales slowly*) but thank goodness Liza is there to comfort Kelsey, whose statement that she really doesn’t care would be a lot more convincing if she wasn’t crying inconsolably. We get a beautiful transition from Kelsey’s office to Charles’ with a sweeping aerial shot across the autumnal canopy of Central Park along with the gentle music adding to the relaxed pacing of the episode. Liza doesn’t want it to be weird between her and Charles now that the proposal is out there (well actually, its 100% in her court but yes), so he reassures her it’s not weird at all by planting a kiss on her that almost triggers the sprinklers because friends, it is HOTTT. Cue super cute exchange about pro and cons lists, lovingly looking into one another’s eyes and then, another ‘ I love you’ from Liza to Charles followed by Charles responding, ‘I love you too’, and despite my deceased status at this point, it was magical. But also WHAT. IS. HAPPENING.

These two are so enamoured with one another and it’s as though it’s something they just say to each other all the time, but this is literally the first episode we’ve heard any kind of expression of feelings to one another since the season 6 premiere and even then it wasn’t this direct; Liza ran away and Charles told her he didn’t mind not being at the office because he did it for the woman he loves followed by a cute story about how he can do maths because he’s had feelings for her for 16 years. Don’t get me wrong, the entire scene this episode was perfect and it was SO well done in the way it captured the best parts of their dynamic (damn you Darren Star for being so good at what you do), but it also felt like we were being shown the dream version of what could have been before it’s all snatched away.

Not unlike Millennial, which is like naming a business Boomer Print according to the table of boomers at the investor meeting who blindside Kelsey and Charles by voting to restore the name Empirical (head boomer has clearly had it with millennials, indicated by his statement, ‘who gives a shit about millennials any more?’) and so it is done and Kelsey is officially having a very bad week. It is while enjoying a quiet bourbon in the bar that evening that Charles is joined by Quinn, who is allegedly on her apology tour to explain to investors why she dropped out of the Senate race, but also offers Charles what seems to be a sincere apology for treating his company like a toy (prediction: nothing is ever as it seems with Quinn). I have a confession to make and believe me, I don't like it any more than you do - they absolutely nailed the set up of tension and a little bit of a spark between Charles and Quinn in this scene IMO and I...I *whispers* I liked it.

What I liked even more was Lauren’s completely in character entrance to her own birthday party, omg it’s so ridiculous and perfectly her and Denise telling her daughter, ‘fix your crotch, good girl’ had me chuckling. I feel like we’re getting Kelsey’s set up for the season at this party too, as she’s feeling unsure of what defines her now, and the conversation about defining things carries over into Josh and Liza’s chat when he asks her if congratulations are in order. This exchange between the two of them is just lovely, with Liza clearly feeling a little awkward talking to Josh about Charles, but Josh reassures her that he does like him, for her, and that it brings him joy to know she’s happy. They agree that their relationship doesn’t need to be defined, and that they'll always be in each others’ lives no matter who they’re with. It feels very final for their romantic relationship and I would be celebrating the end of the triangle had I not clocked Josh’s fallen expression as Liza walks away. I really do hope that Josh finds someone he loves and who loves him the way he wants to be loved this season. Josh’s words gave Liza some clarity of her own and so we find ourselves at the magnificent Seaglass Carousel, home of Liza and Charles’ first proper date, once more.

Charles is clearly full of hope and expectation as he meets Liza and they remember the time he and the beard we try to forget about brought her there and it’s all amazing and beautiful and...*collects self*...Liza tells him that she just wants to keep riding the perfect ride. She once again tells him she loves him (we’re up to three times in one ep now for those of you playing at home), that all she wants is his heart and that she wants to be happily unmarried to him every day. To say this does not go down the way she is expecting is an understatement; we learn that Charles doesn’t want a ride, he wants to get off the carousel and not live in a fantasy. He believes in marriage whereas she believes they are now finally free and folks, this is why you talk about your stance on marriage in a relationship BEFORE you pop the question out of nowhere at someone’s wedding.

You can see on his face, as Liza says she doesn’t want to define their relationship by the rules and obligations of marriage, that he’s hearing that she is not all in (whether that’s true or not) and he thanks her for letting him know what’s in her heart. You know the bit that actually plunges the knife into my heart? Charles shaking his head as Liza says his name, clearly overcome with emotion, before he kisses her on the head looking as though his world has just come crumbling down around him. That knife just gets twisted even further as Liza is left there in disbelief, (we are all Liza in that moment honestly), trying to process how her own declaration could be so easily rejected. You know, I knew it was coming, but it didn’t make it any less painful. I can see it from both perspectives and I have no doubt that these two characters have a lot they need to address and work through as a result of their own failed marriages if they’re going to have healthy relationships moving forward.

I tell you what, after so long with no new episodes, this first episode of the season was concurrently beautiful and heart-breaking and one thing’s for certain - this final ride ain’t gonna be smooth. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m just going to go and regain some composure so we can start on ep 2...

Season 6 ramble collection can be found here

#youngertv #younger tv #7x01 #reiew #ramble #liza miller #charles brooks #kelsey peters #maggie amato #lauren heller #younger season 7 #tv show

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padfootagain · 4 years

Text

Girl Crush (XX)

Chapter 20: Fear Of Petunias

Here we go for a new chapter!! I'm a bit late for this one, sorry, I was very busy these past few days.

I hope you like this new chapter! No warnings, it’s not angsty or anything.

Word Count: 3015

Harry couldn't wait. As he stood in the middle of the hall in the Boston Logan airport, he reckoned that he was more excited than he had ever been.

He had a good reason for it though. You were about to enter the hall.

Your plane from L.A had safely landed a few minutes ago, and he was just waiting for you to come out now. He hadn't seen you in the flesh for 4 months. And God, did he miss you…

He kept looking everywhere around him, unable to settle his gaze on just one spot. He was surrounded by families and friends of others who were on this plane with you, but he didn't pay any attention to anyone around.

He didn't notice the three young women approaching him with their phones in their hands. He was too busy leaning on his right to look over a couple that had decided to simply stay right in front of him, blocking the view of your terminal. He annoyingly tittered, trying to move to the side.

But then there was someone tugging at his sleeve, and when he turned, he knew exactly what was going on before the stranger opened her mouth to make her request.

"Sorry… could we get a picture with you?"

His heart sank in his chest. Not because he had been recognized in itself, but because it meant that he needed to be careful now. He thought he was in the clear, but perhaps someone else had recognized him. And perhaps their intentions weren't all about getting a selfie with him. It meant he couldn't give you the hug he had been dreaming about, couldn't hold you close after so many weeks spent missing you. It would have to wait.

But he didn't let any of this show, and instead, offered a kind smile to his fan.

"Of course, you can."

He chatted with the three fans for a few minutes, all grins and charm despite the many glances he stole towards the terminal. How long before you came out now?

A few travellers were already walking out of the hall, greeted by their friends and families, or sometimes walking fast towards the exit on their own. But you were nowhere to be seen still.

But then he caught a glimpse of your hair and…

His lips curled into a bright grin that he couldn't have stopped if he had tried. He didn't even attempt to refrain the gesture though, his heart was beating too fast for that, and through his clouded mind it seemed that he couldn't form a single thought.

Your grin matched his as you spotted him in the expecting crowd as well, but you also noticed the three women turned towards him, and you knew exactly what was going on. Your smile faltered, and you looked down at your feet, your steps slowing down.

You heaved a sigh, aiming your footsteps for the exit instead of Harry.

"It's not nice to ignore your best friend, especially when he's come all the way to the airport to pick you up."

Harry was beside you, and you looked up at him with surprise. You would have thought that he would have avoided you until you were both out of the airport because he was clearly being watched now. You could feel the three women's eyes fixed on you. But instead, he had hurried to join you, and was now offering you a bright smile while taking your luggage from your hand.

"You seemed busy over there," you replied, a little out of breath as you stared into his green eyes.

Four months, that was way too long a time to not see these eyes...

"Yeah… better keep the hug for later, or we might start crazy rumours. Still, I'm so happy to see you."

"Me too, Harry. I've missed you."

He heaved a sigh, looking over his shoulder to check if people were staring at him still.

"I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry I can't greet you properly."

"You're here, that's a proper welcome to me."

You exchanged a pair of stupid smiles as you walked to his car. But he had barely driven out of the airport that he was pulling over, checking that the little road he had taken was empty.

"Get out," he ordered, making you frown.

"What?"

"Just… humour me."

You rolled your eyes, wondering what the hell could be happening now. With Harry, you had to be prepared for anything.

As soon as you were both out of the car, he gestured to you to come closer, and with one last quick glance around, he wrapped his arms around you in the tightest hug you had ever received.

It took you less than a second to reciprocate the gesture, resting your cheek on his shoulder.

"Now…. Much better," he smiled. "God… I've missed you so much, Y/N."

Your hold on his white T-shirt tightened as your emotions became overwhelming. Everything was too intense after months spent missing every of these details. His scent, his low voice, his warmth against you, his strong arms around you, the gentle hold of his hands on the back of your head and your back, the feeling of his chest expanding and collapsing with every breath he took and exhaled…

You didn't even notice as tears formed in your eyes until it was too late to stop them.

"I've missed you too, Harry. It's crazy how I've missed you."

You remained standing there, by the side of the road, holding on each other tightly for a while, none of you willing to break your embrace. And at first, it was simply because you didn't want to show the other that you were both on the verge of tears. But after a while, it was simply because, after all this time, you simply didn't want to let go.

It felt… unreal.

Travelling with Harry felt surreal. Like you were living through something so different to anything you had ever experienced.

It was an everlasting rush that never seemed to slow down. It felt like you were hurrying from a point to the other all day long, and you wondered how the band could handle such haste for so long, but then you reckoned that they had become used to the craziness of it all.

The shows you went to on the eastern coast of the US were amazing. The responsive crowd, and the lights, and the talented musicians, and Harry radiating energy and light from the stage... You had the same thought every single time you saw him perform: he truly was ment to perform. He owned the stage. And every show was amazing and made your chest almost burst with how proud you were of him and his band.

After the last show at Madison Square Garden, you went out for a drink with the whole crew. A little celebration after Harry's performances on the legendary stage. And you might have been drinking just a tiny bit too much, which Harry and his friends found hilarious.

You were busy discussing bra sizes and whining about how uncomfortable pieces of clothing they were with Sarah. Mitch was pretty drunk as well, his head resting on the table as he looked at the two of you, while Harry chatted with Adam and Clare.

"And I bought one with lace the other day and it ended up being so scratchy!" you complained. "It's underwear! Why is it scratchy!"

"It can be," Sarah sternly nodded, before taking a sip of her cocktail, her eyes a little glassy by now.

"We should free our boobs," you declared, putting down your drink with too much strength, causing Harry to turn to you with a startled glance.

"Open a petition!" Sarah agreed, her words slurred with alcohol.

"I'm gonna!" you swore. "I'll open a pet... petitious... petition... Free tits for all!"

Harry burst into laughter by your side, while Mitch turned into a giggling ball on his seat.

It was a merry and silly evening spent with your friends you had missed while they travelled across the world, and felt happier and freer than you had in a long time.

You were interrupted though when your phone rang. You brought the screen too close to read the name of the person calling you, and you sighed when you read Gareth's name.

"It's my boyyyyyyfriend!" you mumbled in a high-pitched voice. "He must be worried. He's always worried about everything. It's tiring."

You answered anyway, and Harry hated himself for the way he listened closely to your conversation. But you were drunk, and seemed to want to ramble about how great Sarah was rather than answer your boyfriend's questions. And after a couple of minutes, you handed your phone to Harry.

"He wants to talk to you. Should I get jealous?" you asked with narrowed eyes.

"Absolutely. I secretly want to seduce your boyfriend, I'm surprised you haven't noticed yet," he joked, unable to refrain the smile that formed on his lips while he took your phone from you.

"Hello, Gareth, darling," Harry went on, making you pinch his arm. "What can I do for you tonight?"

"Hi, Harry. Is Y/N okay over there?"

"Yeah, she's just a bit drunk. We all went out for a drink together. Don't worry, we'll call a cab to go back to the hotel together. I'll make sure she gets home safely."

"Are you drunk too?"

"I'm not as far gone as she is. I'll take care of her, don't worry."

"Alright, thanks," Gareth mumbled although he didn't sound very grateful, more like irritated.

"So... good night..."

"Actually, Harry, I wasn't calling just to check on her. Have you taken a look at any social media today?"

"Huh? Not really, was pretty busy. Why?"

"Check. Now."

Harry heaved an annoyed sigh, wondering what on Earth had gotten into your boyfriend, so he reached for his phone.

He only then noticed the eight calls from Jeffrey. With a frown, he opened one of the links in his manager's text, not bothering reading the actual messages.

His hold on both phones tightened the second the picture appeared on screen.

It was you and Harry hugging. He recognized the moment in the blink of an eye. It was simply the hug from the airport. You were standing by the car, holding onto each other. The headline was obviously a variant of 'Harry Styles and his new girlfriend'.

"Have you seen the picture now," Gareth asked in the phone.

"Yeah..."

"Should I get in the next plane and break your fucking jaw?"

Harry raised a surprised eyebrow, but chose to ignore the remark.

"We were just hugging after I picked her up from the airport. Nothing more."

"Really?"

Harry checked if you were listening to his conversation, but you were back to talking to Sarah and Mitch and weren't paying any attention to your phone anymore. So Harry felt like he was free to speak his mind and take care of the situation on his own.

"Of course. Don't you trust her?" he asked your boyfriend in a low tone.

"I do..."

"Then you should know that nothing else happened. We were happy to see each other, but I got recognized in the airport, so we drove for a few minutes to find a quiet place to properly great each other. We just hugged, man. Nothing wrong with that."

"It doesn't look so innocent..."

"It's a paparazzi peak published on the internet. The point is to create rumours. Nothing happened, and nothing will happen. We're just friends. And if you really knew Y/N as well as you claim to, you wouldn't worry the way you do now. I get that it's annoying, and upsetting even, but don't put the blame on her when all Y/N did was giving me a hug."

"Look, to be honest, it's not just this incident. I don't like how close the two of you are sometimes..."

"Please, tell her that. Tell her these exact words, just so you can get dumped," Harry replied in an acidic tone.

Gareth heaved a sigh.

"All I'm saying is that I want it to be clear in your head that she is my girlfriend. And she won't be anything but a friend to you. Are we clear on that point?"

Harry clenched his jaw, his hold on your phone tightening even more until he wondered if he could actually break the device.

As if he needed a reminder of that...

"We're clear."

"Good. Get her home now. I'll call her tomorrow morning."

Before Harry could reply, Gareth had hung up.

He handed you your phone back without a word. You were drunk, there was no need to bother you with these paparazzi pictures now. You were laughing with Sarah and Mitch, and his anger was soothed the second he looked at your smile.

It could wait till morning.

"Ouch... my head..."

You whined, letting yourself drop onto the chair by Harry's side in his large hotel room. The smell of food was making you nauseous, but you were hungry nonetheless.

Your friend silently handed you a glass of water and some painkillers, for which you thanked him before drinking the whole glass in one go.

"Why did you let me drink so much last night?" you asked him with a pout.

"I did try to stop you, but you can be awfully stubborn when you truly want to, you know?"

"How are the others? How are you?"

"I didn't drink as much as you lot!" Harry laughed. "Someone had to be the responsible one of the group. But everybody's alright. Mitch and Sarah are still asleep, I'll wake them up in a bit. We can have breakfast first."

When he ordered breakfast that morning, Harry didn't even think when he asked the portions to be made for two. He knew you would walk into his room as soon as you were awake, even if you were still in your blue pyjamas. Yawning and tired and rubbing your eyes in a lazy attempt to chase sleep away, your hair a mess and your voice hoarse and a little weak. He knew exactly what this morning would be like, and he was absolutely right. You always did that whenever the two of you went somewhere together. And he loved it, now more than ever. It gave him the illusion, for a moment, that you had woken up in his room too.

But that morning, he had another worry in his mind that eclipsed the domestic moment he longed to steal.

He had spent the last thirty minutes checking these pictures of you and him. It was just a hug, but even he had to admit that depending on the angle of the camera, someone might believe that you had been kissing. There was no way you would avoid the pictures forever, and he reckoned that it was best if he was the one bringing you the news. And the more he let time fly by, the higher the risk of you finding about it on your own. He reckoned that was worse.

So he took a deep breath, and leaned against the table towards you while you poured himself some coffee.

"Y/N... We need to talk about something."

"What's wrong?" you asked, blowing on the hot beverage.

"I... first, I'm... I want to apologize. I'm so sorry about what happened, and I... I completely understand if you get mad because of it."

Your expression turned into a concerned frown.

"What's going on?" you asked again, your tone more urgent this time.

Harry heaved a sigh, took a deep breath before diving.

"I... A few pictures have leaked on the internet of... us. Like... When we were hugging the other day, after I picked you up at the airport."

Your eyes fell to your knees.

"Oh," was the only sound you let out.

"I'm sorry. It's all over the place already. And... I'm sure you can guess the headlines that go with them, even if it was just a hug."

You nodded, but remained silent.

"I... I'm sorry. That's why Gareth called last night and asked to talk to me, you remember? I... I hope you won't get in trouble..."

"It was just a hug, Harry, we did nothing wrong."

"I know. But I've seen the pics, and... I'll admit that the angles have been perfectly chosen to question if we were hugging or kissing."

You heaved a tired sigh.

"I'm not surprised."

"I'm sorry."

But you shook your head, placing your cup back onto the table, and for a moment, Harry expected you to get angry. He looked down at his hands in a sheepish manner, but the scolding he was ready for never came.

"It's not your fault, Harry. We were careful, and those assholes... it's their fault, not yours."

"I should have waited for us to really be alone."

"It's not your fault. Stop apologizing."

"You're not mad?" he asked in a hopeful voice, looking up at you again.

"At you? Of course not. I would very much like to shout at whoever took these pics, but... it's not your fault. Don't worry about it. It'll be forgotten soon enough anyway, right?"

"I... I'm not so sure about that..."

"Anyway... it's not your fault. Don't feel guilty about it, okay?"

He heaved a sigh.

"I think Gareth is pretty mad."

"Let me take care of my boyfriend. We'll be alright, don't worry about that."

You could read Harry's worry written all over his face, so you reached for his hand, a reassuring smile on your lips.

"Don't worry, Harry. I'm not angry at you. It's not your fault. I'll talk with Gareth, and we'll all be just fine."

"You shouldn't have to go through this because of me," he stated, his voice deeper than usual.

"I signed up for this when I became your best friend. It's alright."

"So... we're good, right?"

You gave him yet another smile.

"Yeah, Harry. We're good."

*********************************

Tag list : @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony@madamrogers @cronias13 @stylesfics-xx @mellamolayla @mariaenchanted

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #series

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paxohana · 4 years

Text

Menagerie, Pt. 6

A gentle breeze wafted in from the open balcony doors leading to Viktor’s room. Opening his eyes and peering at the single ray of sunshine on his floor, Viktor realized it was the weekend.

More importantly, the day he was going to spend with Yuuri.

Bounding hastily from his bed, Viktor donned a light robe and left his room. He quickly descended down the stairs and headed for the dining room. Clare was busy laying out the spread for breakfast and Viktor sincerely thanked her, taking his seat near the head of the table. His father followed suit soon after, indulging himself by reading the morning’s paper while eating a slice of toast. Viktor knew his mother wouldn’t be there to join them that morning. She had a prior engagement of volunteering at the local hospital.

Quickly scarfing breakfast down, Viktor took the stairs two at a time, reaching his room in record time. He wanted to wear something light yet dashing that day since he wanted to further impress Yuuri. Choosing a button-up ong-sleeve shirt and linen trousers, Viktor dug his favorite pair of suspenders from a dresser drawer and dressed quickly..

After pressing a kiss to Clare’s cheek, he left the house and made his way to the park he would meet Yuuri at.

***

Yuuri didn’t sleep well at all that night. He was too excited since he would be meeting Viktor the next day to distribute boxed lunches to the less fortunate in their town. Yuuri had never considered the deed, but he was looking forward to making a difference. Even though he felt sluggish, he got out of bed and pondered what to wear that day. The weather appeared perfect for a day outing, and he prayed it would hold up. The spring had been relatively cool thus far, so Yuuri chose a long-sleeved shirt, vest, and pants he only wore on special occasions.

His stomach was in knots so he decided to skip breakfast thus he became ill. His sister was rambling about the latest tax law, but Yuuri tuned her out. He couldn’t stand the talk of business at the table on a regular day, and today it was definitely not welcome.

He finished his glass of juice and declined his mother’s offer of breakfast. He acquiesced to his mother, grabbing a piece of toast on his way out. After placing the piece in his mouth, Yuuri put on his most comfortable dress shoes and strode toward the door. Taking a deep breath after removing the slice of toast, Yuuri smiled and walked to the center of town.

***

The town square was abuzz with activity by the time Yuuri reached it. He was a tad late since he stopped and spoke to an elderly woman. He helped take care of her during a bout with the flu and she always thanked him profusely each time she saw him. Typically he didn’t mind chatting with the woman, but he had bigger and better things on his mind this day.

After a fierce hug from the woman and a kiss on the cheek, Yuuri excused himself and resumed his journey to the town square. He scanned the area when he reached it and found Viktor sitting on a bench near one of the fountains, reading a book. He wanted to shout out his name, see the dazzling smile that graced his face anytime Yuuri saw him. He wanted the cerulean blue orbs focused on him and him alone, but he wasn’t one to draw attention to himself.

Walking toward the park, Yuuri paused when he was standing in front of him and his shadow fell over Viktor. Looking up, Viktor grinned happily when he saw Yuuri. Thinking Viktor couldn’t be any better looking, Yuuri realized he was wrong. He thought the light blue shirt suited him well, the suspenders adding further breadth of his shoulders. Yuuri fought the attraction to his new friend the best he could, but it threatened to consume him.

“Are you ready to go to the deli?” Viktor asked, closing his book and standing up.

“Sure,” Yuuri replied.

After a quick stretch, Viktor led the way. Yuuri had visited the deli several times but didn’t mind Viktor taking the lead. It left him the opportunity to stare at Viktor’s broad shoulders and trim waist. He refused to let his gaze drift lower as it wasn’t proper.

When they reached the deli, Viktor held the door open for Yuuri. Viktor followed him and greeted the shop owner when the man saw the pair. After a quick discussion of how the man’s family was doing, Viktor and Yuuri thanked him for preparing the boxes. They were already arranged on a cart, so Viktor paid him and grabbed the handle, leading it easily lest the stack of boxes fell.

Yuuri held the door open for Viktor while he steered the cart out of the building. They chatted about the couple of days they didn’t see each other and realized they were rather boring. Reaching the poor end of town before they knew it, they began their trek of knocking door-to-door to deliver the boxes. Viktor knew most of the people, and they thanked him time and again for providing a meal they couldn’t afford on their own. Several women had tears in their eyes while their children jumped excitedly bout the upcoming feast. Yuuri pitched in when he noticed several children with the sniffles and coughs. Advising them to give their children tea with lemon and honey while putting a warm cloth on their chest, Yuuri made a mental note to bring tea bags by to those that couldn’t afford them. Viktor was further enamored with Yuuri watching him interact with the residents.

By the time they delivered the last box, it was nearing sunset. The man at the deli said Viktor could return the cart the next day, so they made a stop by his house to leave the cart in the yard. He attempted to remain silent so his family couldn’t hear him, cursing the squeaky wheels on the cart. Yuuri had to suppress a giggle when Viktor swore and clasped a hand over his mouth so they wouldn’t be discovered.

Once the cart was secure in the back yard, Viktor raced toward the river, Yuuri on his heels. The moon was high in the sky and bathing the town in its gentle glow. When they reached the willow tree, both collapsed onto the ground and laughed breathlessly. They didn’t get the chance to act silly often, so they enjoyed it while they could. After catching their breath, Viktor rolled over to face Yuuri.

“Copper for your thoughts,” Viktor said, breaking the silence.

“I was thinking about today,” Yuuri said, “I had so much fun and it was wonderful helping those in need.”

“I love seeing their faces when I help them,” Viktor said, “I feel like I’m making a difference in the world. My dad thinks a difference is giving them a few cents in a raise.”

“That’s not very helpful,” Yuuri agreed.

“No, it’s not. This is a way I can keep my philanthropy alive,” Viktor explained.

They fell into comfortable silence once again. The stars were twinkling in the sky and a gentle breeze kissed their skin as they lay there. Not wanting to interrupt the mood, Yuuri thought about whether he should say what was on his mind.

“Next time you put your philanthropy in action, can I come along? I want to devise a pamphlet on nutrition to hand out to each family receiving a box,” Yuuri said.

“I think that’s a fascinating idea,” Viktor said.

They chatted about what the next week held for them. Yuuri would be busy balancing the end of the month records for each client that his father had, mentioning it would bore him to tears. Viktor was required to be at the plant with his father so he could further learn how to run it. Neither was looking forward to the week.

“Would you like to dine with me one evening?” Viktor asked, crossing his fingers behind his back.

“I would love that,” Yuuri said, smiling softly.

They made plans to meet up the following Tuesday and stood since it was getting late. Neither knew what to say in parting, so Viktor took the lead.

“I had a wonderful time today, Yuuri,” Viktor said, “I’ve never enjoyed doing a good deed as much as I did today.”

“It was wonderful,” Yuuri agreed, “Let me know when you want some company next time.”

A small pause fell over them before Viktor took Yuuri’s hands, squeezing slightly. Leaning over to press his lips against Yuuri’s forehead, Viktor leaned back and stared into Yuuri’s eyes.

“Until next time, my sweet Yuuri,” Viktor said.

Yuuri was speechless while Viktor removed his hands and turned, walking down the hill and disappearing from view when he reached the bridge. Yuuri touched the spot that Viktor kissed him and sighed shakily. He knew then that their feelings were mutual and Yuuri was so giddy he felt as if he were one with the stars. Even though he didn’t want the moment to end, Yuuri descended down the hill, looking forward to the next time they met.

The beautiful art done by the talented @princessmimoza

Need to catch up? Visit Ao3 here.

#menagerie pt 6 #menagerie update #princessmimoza draws #pax writers #victuuri fic #viktuuri fic

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celtfather · 5 months

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Happy New Year of Irish & Celtic Music Joy #642

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0:08 - Ed Yother "Where I Told Her I Loved Her and Sprained Her Ankle / Coffee on the Bricks / The Persistence of Noel Reid" from First Figure

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6:41 - Mary Beth Carty "Way to Judique" from Crossing the Causeway

9:56 - Rambling Sailors "Merry May Folk" from Tales From the White Horse

14:06 - Moher "Gone Fishing (slow reels) Gone Fishing - Lead The Knave" from Phoenix

19:39 - Iain MacHarg "The Jolly Beggar" from Ceòl Na Beinne Music of the Mountain

23:53 - FEEDBACK

29:50 - Madman's Window "The Wild Rover" from All Guns Blazing - Live!

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43:26 - Daniele Scardovi "AGAINST THE TIDE" from single

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46:27 - Kellys Wayke "Leaving of Liverpool" from Kellys Wayke

49:49 - THANKS

52:38 - Derina Harvey Band "Run to Me" from Waves of Home

56:51 - Brad The Piper "The Storm" from The Forgotten Game

57:58 - Roehind "Abu Chuibhl'" from Buile

1:00:53 - Screaming Orphans "Hard to Say Goodbye" from Paper Daisies

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1:05:36 - The Poor Clares "A Crack in the Doorway Reel Set" from Resurrected Lover

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Sprained ankle over the holidays.

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Decide how much you want to pledge every week, $1, $5, $25. Make sure to cap how much you want to spend per month.

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I WANT YOUR FEEDBACK

What are you doing today while listening to the podcast? Please email me. I’d love to see a picture of what you're doing while listening or of a band that you saw recently.

Email me at celticpodcast@gmail.

Eric G emailed: "Hey Marc! Regarding the proposed whiskey tour, it's one of my bucket list items to go on an Invasion...but teaching makes it difficult. For this proposal, I start back up August 9, 2024. If you end up scheduling earlier let me know, we're definitely into hiking. Actually this is old now but one of the "what are you doing while listening to the Podcast" was running from Wordsworth's Dove Cottage in Grasmere UK up to Easedale Tarn in heavy rain. Even with rain jackets we got wet but it was glorious and the music matched the scene."

Rich Hoffman replied to the Celtic Music Magazine's Christmas greetings: "Thanks for all the great music Mark. It is a true gift to us. Happy 2024! "

emilio marco colombo also replied: "Many thanks Marc. And a big hug from Italy! And thank you always for the beautiful music you offer us!"

Patrick Rieger emailed photos: "Hello Marc, Here are photos from the Celtic Christmas Music show Celtic Pittsburgh hosted at Mullaney's Harp & Fiddle the evening of December 9th.

The performers were Cahal Dunne; Mike Clancy and Alan Booth of Abbots Cross; Bill McShane of the University of Pittsburgh Nationality Rooms and Intercultural Exchange Program speaking about the Scottish room; Kip Ruefle and Lawrence McCullough of the Kip Ruefle Trio; Jessica Willard on hammered dulcimer, and RichPatrick, with (l to r) Sue Borowski, Rich Lange, and Jim Borowski.

The pub was packed that night, and everyone had a great time. A big thanks to the staff of the Harp for handling such a crowd so well."

Bill Mandeville commented on Patreon: "Great Christmas podcast! A family member commented that the songs were so fresh and original. Not the supermarket fare you hear to ad nauseam this time of year. Here is wishing you and your lovely family a merry Christmas."

He wrote a separate post regarding the Celtic Top 20 episode: "I jotted down a couple songs to vote for; but only to find out the songs were from 2012 podcast and not on the list. That’s when I got this epiphany. Why don’t you reopen the best of (prior year). You can call it - Best if 2012: For Real This Time.

Gwênlyn Glusman emailed a photo: "Hi Marc, I think I first enjoyed the Irish & Celtic Music podcast in late 2005, but I wasn't much into podcasts then and lost track of it... Then on December 26th, 2022 (exactly one year ago) I did some google images search and a logo caught my eye among the results... and I rediscovered your podcast! Been avidly listening since then, and became a patron in January 2023.

I typically listen to the podcast while walking in the neighborhood or while commuting (which I do by bus). It always lifts my mood! Also very much enjoying the Celtic Christmas podcast!

Here's a photo from Dervish at the Triple Door in Seattle, November 7th. I heard from you they were touring, and very much enjoyed the show, with friends!"

Annelise Laughlin emailed: "Hi Marc, I’m enjoying some quiet time and listening to your Celtic Christmas 2023 episode while brainstorming my New Year’s resolution!

Thanks so much for continuing to produce your podcast. I love listening whenever the mood strikes me, and it always brings me joy.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!"

Check out this episode!

#celtic #Irish #Scottish #music #Ireland #Scotland

0 notes

silence-and-tears · 4 years

Text

all the things that we call home

“Aydin,” he says.

“Hi, Mason,” I say to the sky.

There’s a moment of silence, and then Mason clears his throat. “Clare was wondering where you were,” he mutters. “I think she's a bit worried.”

“Huh,” I say. “I thought that was your job.”

“Please shut up,” Mason says, earnestly.

I laugh, a little, and something eases around my chest. Not a lot, just enough to breathe properly again. Mason makes a pleased sort of sound, a little happy and a little young.

We’re still in their suits, just took our helmets off. The aliens here are cautious but friendly- we’ve been communicating with them for a while now, but no humans have ever actually been to the planet. Until now, I guess.

We watch the sky together, moments ticking by. Can I still call them moments? Time goes by faster on this planet, half a year on Earth each hour. What will Earth be like when we get back? If we get back? If? If?

Will Mom still be there, in our house that always smells like geraniums? Nadia would be- what, by now? Twenty? Yeah. Twenty. I’ll have missed her birthday.

“Aydin,” Mason says awkwardly. He’s too young for this- we all are. His voice cracks- he’s only been on T for a month or so now.

God. He’s only been transitioning for a month.

“Aydin!” Mason snaps, now, more commandingly. “Snap out of it!”

I turn to look at him.

The sun here is bright, too bright. It’s blue, and it’s light flickers off Mason’s face like the Aurora Borealis I’ve always imagined. I’ve always wanted to go see them. Not that I will.

“You were thinking too much again,” he says.

“You think too much,” I say.

“I can’t believe I like you,” he grumbles, and throws himself onto the ground with more force and drama than necessary. The ground catches him, bounces, stills.

Mason’s always been like that, in the almost five years now that I’ve known him. Adapts to life and the things around him easily. I think the only thing he’s ever been persistent on is his gender and his dream to be an astronaut.

The coms crackle. “You there, Aydin? Mu?”

“Oh, shut up, Clarissant,” Mason complains. “I’m not the only one with a bad name here.”

“Call me that again,” Clare says sweetly, “and you can deal with the rest of negotiations.”

“Sweet Jesus, you two,” Cintan joins in, but we all know they don’t mean it.

“Anyways, negotiations are over for today. Their day, I guess. Where are you guys?” Clare says. She’s focused, as usual. I don’t think she ever really stops working. If she has, I’ve never seen it.

“Outside, by the cliffs,” I say, and Cintan groans.

“Why did you walk so far out?” he complains. “Okay, I’m coming.”

“The sun’s going to set soon,” Mason observes, a little thoughtfully.

“We should get some rest,” Clare says. “C’mon, guys. Get back to your rooms.”

She’s tired, tired and irritable. I can hear it in the edge of her voice, the sharpness she tries to hold back.

“Does no one want to watch the sunset?” Mason protests.

“We’re not here to watch sunsets, we’re here to negotiate and get back to our families. Not that you’d know what that’s like.”

I hear Mason’s breath hitch, and Cintan inhales a little surprised noise over the coms. I startle.

There’s a ringing silence, and Mason starts to tense. Half rises, face drawn. The light draws long shadows around his eyes, and his shoulders hunch over. Clare’s crossed the line, one of the few that Mason has, and we all know it.

She sighs. I can see her in my mind, slumping against one of the pillars here- everything is pillars, here. She’s probably pinching her nose, pulling herself together.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That was uncalled for. We can watch the sunset.”

“Nice!” Cintan says, voice a little high pitched. “Okay, I’m on my way, guys! Almost there!”

He clicks off.

Mason sits back down. Gingerly, this time, quiet and small. I turn the coms off and shift closer to him.

“She didn’t mean it,” I say. “You know what Clare’s like. All bark and no bite. She’s just tired.”

“I know,” he mutters. He’s probably turned his coms off, too. “I should’ve helped more today.”

‘Dude,” I say, with feeling. “You, like, did everything you could. You’re our pilot and part time mechanist, you just got the basic training in negotiations, like- you don’t have to-”

I falter. Don’t have to what? Don’t have to fill in every role, don’t have to feel this need to do everything? To fix everything?

He smiles at me, small and a little sad. “Yeah,” he says, voice too quiet. “I kinda do.”

But then he nudges me. “Let’s make a deal, huh? You don’t have to fix everyone, I don’t have to- I don’t have to be me?”

I don’t know how to answer that. The silence is heavy now, and Mason begins twisting his hands together, awkward and anxious and upset. He isn’t looking at the sky anymore, stares down at the ground instead, starts sifting through the grains of sand-like material here. The whole place is some kind of sandy material, though the aliens here say that further North East there are tree like things and water- water.

Four thousand three hundred twenty four light years from home, and they still have water.

“The ground sparkles,” Mason says suddenly. His voice is strained, but at least he’s talking. “You see?” He holds up a handful of the stuff, and in the light of the sun it does seem to sparkle, a little. When I squint it seems a little blue, but maybe that’s just my human eyes.

“You wanna bring some back to ship so we can test it?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Just a hobby. ’Sides, dunno if Clare’ll be okay with it.”

“‘Course I’d be okay with it, Mu,” Clare’s voice comes from behind us. Mason startles. Cintan is jogging behind her, trying to keep up even though he started out earlier. She turns to glance back at him. “Hurry it up, slowpoke!” She calls, voice endless against the plains of rocks. “You’re going to miss Mu’s sunset!” He answers in huffing gasps, annoyed and maybe a little amused.

“Got you one of those rocks you like so much,” she adds stiffly, and I turn away so she won’t see my grin. For all her bluster, she really is a softie. Mason’s lips tug up a little as he takes it.

“Thanks, Clare,” he says.

“Nothin’ to thank me for, Woodhead,” she mutters, and sits down beside him. Woodhead’s a little joke running between them- Mason’s Chinese name means wood, and the first time they met he found out that she knew Chinese and so here we are. They still speak Chinese to each other sometimes to tick Cintan off.

Mason rolls the stone between his fingers, looking thoughtful. “Huh,” he says. “look at this- the layers are all blurred.”

“What?” Cintan gasps from behind us. “I’m just the poor head mechanic, I don’t know rocks.”

Mason waves it at him. “Look!” he says, more excited. “I was wondering what the gravity difference and sand and wind would do to the rocks that can form here, and you know how on Earth-”

“Nope,” Cintan says, popping the p. He flops onto the ground and pats Mason on the shoulder. “Let’s watch your sunset first, ‘kay?”

“Hmph,” Mason grumbles, and Cintan laughs. “Mason,” he says, “I promise I’ll listen to all your ramblings about rocks and rocks and other rocks tonight as long as you want, but right now I want to watch this sunset.”

He leans onto me, eying the sky.

“Y’all got here just on time,” I say. “The sun’s-”

Clare’s head spins around to stare. Her ponytail’s half falling apart, and her fingers are frozen in the act of tightening it.

“Aydin,” she says, “did you just unironically say y’all.”

I wave at her wildly- having everyone here is giving me more energy, and I’ll probably be more tired later but right now there’s something light in me. It feels like it’s glowing.

“IF YOU CAN HAVE YOUR BOOKS-”

“Oh my god, you’re so loud-”

“I CAN HAVE MY Y’ALLS, CLARE, LET ME LIVE-”

“I hate Texans so much-”

But she’s laughing, giving up on her ponytail and I can feel myself grinning, and Mason’s snorting into his hand and Cintan throws his hands up in the general symbol known in NASA as I give up, why is this my life- and I’m fond of them, suddenly, so fond, something in me bright and warm and constant.

“Sit down, Aydin,” she laughs. “Sit down and watch this gosh darned sunset.”

“Our next operation,” Mason says thoughtfully, “should be to get Clare to swear.”

“You can try,” she says haughtily.

“I’ve heard her swear,” I say, suddenly remembering. “It was-”

“SIT DOWN AND WATCH THE SUNSET, I SWEAR TO GOD-”

“Mission leaders shouldn’t swear, Clare!” Cintan says, and scrambles away as she tries to kick him, and Mason’s laughing as he grabs them and holds Clare back at once.

The laughter dies down, finally, into a silence warm and soft. It wraps around us, a little like the stories Mom used to tell at night.

“And you say I’m the loud one,” I say. Mason snorts again, and Clare groans, long and exasperated.

“I hate this team,” she says, but she’s smiling, bright like the world.

“Nah, you dont,” Mason says. He’s lying down now, peering up.

“Nah,” Clare agrees, softly. “I don’t.”

She lies down too, and so do I. Cintan squints at us and leans back onto the ground too, muttering something about joining our circle of miserly thought. I swat at him.

“It’s not a circle,” Mason hums, “it’s a- it’s a dragon!”

“A dragon,” Cintan says disbelievingly.

“Figure it out in your heads,” Clare grumbles, and they settle.

We’re all quiet for a while. Something warm settles in me, somewhere in my ribcage, and it spreads through me- all the way to my fingers and through my legs. It’s comforting, like a constant friend or the shrieking birds of spring- familiar and a bit like what I think love would be like.

The sky is blue, blue, blue- I’ve never seen that many shades. Streaks of bright light, and something thin and a little darker edging the horizon. The sky is one of those books Clare loves to collect- the paperbacks left back in the twenty first century.

Open me, the sky says. Open me. I have stars and blues and moons and life in me, and I am infinite.

I miss the snow, Mason says, except I don’t realise he says it until a moment later.

Clare sits up on her elbows.

“Huh,” she says. Just that. Huh. And then, “I miss the rain. And our moon. And stars I actually know the names of. And chocolate. God, I miss chocolate.”

“Well, now you’ve taken all of mine,” Cintan complains.

“Was this a competition?” Clare asks.

“Well, now you’ve made it one,” Cintan announces. I’m not sure to who. The world? Except who’s to hear it, but us?

Maybe he just wanted to say it.

We let him think, and I guess I expect something funny and lighthearted from him, but-

“I miss drawing,” Cintan mutters. “You know, I wanted to bring my sketchbook out here, but mission control said no- I get it, any extra weight can tilt it off, and, you know, bring us to a fiery death, but. I would’ve liked some things to bring back for Ana, if she’s still there by the time we get back.”

“I’ll collect rocks for her,” Mason decides immediately, like generosity is nothing to him. “I’ll collect all the rocks for her, and then we’ll ditch you guys and go discuss rocks for the rest of our lives.”

“You can’t steal my sister!”

“Watch me.”

And Cintan laughs, a little. “Thanks, Mason.”

The sun’s setting fast now. Our shadows are long and dark, like the watercolours back home. The whole world’s turning blue, and if I close my eyes and ignore the suit, pretend it’s not there, replace it with a T- shirt and jeans, I can almost pretend I’m home.

“I miss home,” I say. “Just- home.”

I could say other things, maybe. I could talk about Ronnie and Luis, I could talk about Nadia. I could talk about Mom and Dad and their farms.

I could talk about a boy who grew up on those farms, yardwork by day and mapping the stars by night. I could talk about how that boy left his home by choice, or how his mom hugged him before he did and cried, and maybe he cried a little too. I could talk about Luis, who didn’t cry because that means I’m giving up on you, Aydin, and I’m never going to give up on you, bring back some stories for me, huh?

You drama kid, Ronnie had tod him, and then hugged me once, tight and hard and whispered, come back when you’re done chasing the stars.

I don’t. They know- they were there with their own families, and Mason had watched, a little sad. Cintan’s mom had given him truffle for before we left, and Clare had been quiet with her dad- tall and grim and a one- armed hug and a whisper in her ear.

“Yeah,” Cintan says. “I miss home.”

“Home is a feeling,” Clare says, and Mason snorts.

“Didn’t take you for a poet.”

“Yeah, well,” and Clare pauses, a little, “I wanted to write before I decided to go into space and yell at people.”

There’s more to the story, but none of us press, just laugh a little.

“I’m glad you’re all on my team,” Mason says, and yawns.

“Thanks for the sunset,” Clare tells him.

“Mhm,” he hums, half lidded eyes peering up into the sky.

There’s a comfortable silence, and the sun starts falling faster, ‘till it’s just over the mountains in the distance- it hangs, there, for a moment that’s longer on Earth, and the universe holds its breath.

It slips down, and the world exhales.

The last beams of light recede, night coming dark and stars blinking down.

“Alright, back to your rooms,” Clare announces, and gets up. Cintan pulls Mason up, and I follow, Clare in step for once instead of rushing ahead.

Mason rubs his eyes and stumbles his way, and Cintan grumbles sleepily and Clare is softly quiet, steady footfalls and messy hair.

And maybe I could find a bit of home in them.

@flashfictionfridayofficial thank you!! sorry this is so freaking long ugh

#my writing #space

11 notes · View notes

tmarauder101 · 5 years

Text

Bittersweet- Drarry Fanfic

This is a collab with Jess ( @shameless-bisexual )! She did the mood-boards and I did the writing. I had so much fun working with her and I've been working on this story since November and I love how it turned out so let me know what y'all think!

Enjoy!

~Vixen

~*@*~

“I took a chance, I took a shot

And you may think I’m bullet-proof, but I’m not. You took a swing, I took it hard.”

― Taylor Swift

~*@*~

5 years ago

Middle school- sixth grade, mid-year

Age 11

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”

Draco looks up from where he was sprawled out on the ground at the boy who bumped into him as he was turning the corner. The rather small eleven-year-old held out a hand to help him up. Eyeing the hand in masked distrust- no one at the school even remotely knew Draco existed let alone had ever been kind to him- the blond timidly let the hand ease him up. He looked down to see messy raven locks and bulky round black glasses gazing back at him.

“No worries,” Draco said, slowly and quietly so he wouldn’t stutter like the social recluse he was. Upon looking closer, Draco blurted out,

“Are you new here?” The boy chuckled, raising a hand to ruffle his hair. As he did so, a portion of his bangs moved and Draco’s eyes were drawn to a small lightning bolt shaped scar right above his left eyebrow.

“Yeah I am, I’m Harry, Harry Potter,” The boy, Harry, stuck out his hand. Draco shifted backward a bit in shock but shook the hand as he saw the dark eyebrows scrunch up a bit in confusion.

“I’m Draco.”

~*@*~

“Did I really want to stay on this road longer, knowing it was only going to end in devastation?”

― Becca Fitzpatrick, Crescendo

~*@*~

Draco’s father was a Politician, and not really well liked amongst those of which he saw as ‘lower class’, which was practically everyone. Draco always assumed that was the reason he was always picked last for everything, why no one ever sat next to him willingly, why he had no friends. But when Draco went to high school, he began to wonder if it was him.

It’s not like Draco was particularly mean or rude, on the contrary he was shy, quiet, brainy. He would classify himself as a dork, really. His nanny, Dobby, had always called him sweet and caring. They had been one of his primary guardians growing up. His father almost never home, traveling for ‘work’ and his mother always out socializing and doing God only knows what.

Draco remembers back when he used to try and make friends. He remembered one girl he met in his last year of primary school, a bushy-haired genius named Hermione. They had met in the library and were partners for an English project once. She had been the only person to come to his house, and he thought they had gotten along quite well. He liked her, she was smart and a wonderful person to listen to. But the weekend after the project, Draco went to sit with Hermione at lunch and she was surrounded by people, when he moved toward an open spot at the table, one of the students had scooted into the seat. He took the hint and when to sit at his usual spot at the peanut free table. Alone.

He had tried to find Hermione alone, just to talk. Just so he wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. But each time, she had someone, or was busy, or simply turned away.

And Draco got the hint.

When Harry shook his hand, he felt that little spark flare up once again. But he stomped it out immediately. Why would he stay, he’d probably never see Harry again. And it was for the best, after all.

Draco was unlovable.

~*@*~

“Hearts are breakable," Isabelle said. "And I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before".”

― Cassandra Clare, City of Fallen Angels

~*@*~

High School- Senior year- first week of school

-Age 17-

Harry had sat next to Draco. In chemistry class. He just walked in and placed his bag on the table where Draco sat. The table in the corner, away from the door and in the front row, it was the table near the professor's desk was, and none of the other students quite liked Professor Snape, but he was Draco’s favorite teacher.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Snape had acknowledged Draco at least twice (in the same week!) in the hallways out of class. It had nothing to do with the fact that Professor Snape was the only teacher that gave Draco more than a glance, or actually marked his papers with what mistakes he made like all the other kids so he could actually make his papers better instead of having to go home and teach it all to himself again.

It certainly had nothing to do with the fact that sitting at that table would make him look like he chose to have no one sitting next to him, and it definitely wasn’t that he longed for human companionship-

Nope, it was only because he liked Professor Snape’s sense of humor.

Draco hadn’t talked to Harry in years. Not since he was eleven and naive enough to walk the same path he had walked when he was nine.

Not since he had overheard Harry in that hallway-

“Hey,” Draco flinched and raised his head just a bit so that his hair covered his eyes. He cocked his head a bit to the side, almost as if he was a puppy. It was a tactic he used with adults to get him out of conversations he didn’t want to get into.

He was not depressed, thank you very much, Miss. Umbridge. How he loathed the woman his mother had once worriedly hired as his therapist. She was a toad who tried to steal Barbies’ wardrobe.

“It’s been a while, what’s been- How are you… ?” Harry asked, nervously. Draco stared at him, expression unreadable. This had to be a prank or something. A dare given to Harry by that Weasley or something. ‘Go and talk to Malfoy, see if the idiot is even alive. At this point, I bet he’s just a terrible figment of everyone’s imagination.’ Just because he never talks, doesn’t mean he doesn't know how to, or that he’s deaf and blind. It’s not like he’s unaware of what people think of him. How could he have been if that’s the only thing he knows anymore. The only thing he’s completely sure of after what happened between with his parents.

Draco looked back to see Harry still staring at him, blushing profoundly with his head down, and shoulders tense. Draco couldn’t see his eyes but knew he wouldn’t like to. How could he after he saw the pure hatred in them when Harry had last gazed his way.

When Harry had wanted to…

“Yeah, you’re right…”

That memory had been branded in his mind forever.

Draco sighed and spoke for the first time since his parents had split and his mother had passed.

“Listen, you don’t have to sit or speak with me. You can go and tell all your friends that you did it. Just please leave,” Draco whispered, his voice soft like freshly fallen powdery snow. He had turned away from Potter- he opted to no longer call the boy by his first name, it hurt far too much- and opened his novel. He knew that the raven-haired boy got the hint. When Draco opened a book, he no longer engaged in what was going on around him. It was a sign to whoever was talking to him that the conversation was deemed over.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Harry sigh and pick up his bag. Harry walked off to another table but Draco saw it.

The small shake of Harry’s head to someone in the room.

Draco had been right.

He didn’t think there was anything left in himself to break a little more. Cut a little more, bleed a little more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

~*@*~

“Saying his name stabbed my heart, like someone had ripped through my carefully stitched up world and exposed the infected, pulsing red tissue that I thought was healing. ”

― Colleen Houck

~*@*~

When Draco was in his Freshman year, he had been, technically, an orphan. His mother had died the summer before, in a car crash. Unfortunately, Draco was in the very same car.

He still had nightmares about it.

Lucius and Narcissa had divorced when Draco was in middle school, when he was just 13. Lucius moved to the states and made it very clear he wanted nothing to do with the two former Malfoys.

Dobby had gone to college the very next year after the divorce. They were aspiring to be a fashion designer, and Draco was very proud that they had gotten into college. They two sent letters until Draco went to high school. Then the letters had stopped. Because he had been forgotten, again.

Seeing a pattern here?

The days turned to grey once more, just like the day that he had heard the words that unmasked his first friend. The world turning like the sky would right before it was about to rain. Colours still there but dulled, nothing really popping out.

When Draco was younger, he had believed he was cursed. He remembered a story he had written about a boy who was cursed to be forever alone. Only in that story, the boy and found his prince and lived a happily ever after. Draco knew he could never have one of those. Not in his life.

It’s funny, he remembered basing the prince off Har-

No, stop that.

He can’t be happy with other people. So he’ll have to not think about it, and endure. Just like he’s always done.

Because there was nothing anyone could do.

Not even Him.

~*@*~

“Everybody said, "Follow your heart". I did, it got broken”

― Mysterious Affair At Styles (Hercule Poirot, #1)

~*@*~

Sometimes, Draco mused, he missed Harry. He missed his long rambles about football, and how studies were boring. He missed the free periods in the library where they would get lost in the bookshelves, and Draco could talk with ease, with the comfort of books and his only friend at his side.

It all came to a head as the year ended.

Draco didn’t know what he would do when summer came. They hadn’t ever talked outside of school- mainly because Draco never saw Harry outside of school- so he opted to give him their house phone number. Maybe then they could talk, and plan to meet up.

When he waved goodbye to Harry, he missed the way Harry’s guardian - his godfather- had looked at Draco, but Draco remembered it later. When he would go over the memory in his mind over and over again as he cried himself to sleep the years following.

Draco had let his walls fall around Harry, and he had naively let the git worm his way into the blond’s fragile heart. He had hoped, wished, prayed that it would be worth it. That Harry did care, he tricked himself into thinking Harry was his friend.

It was all for naught.

Harry had never called. Draco never even got Harry's number -too excited with his own brilliant plan- to ask. But Harry hadn’t offered it either.

And the worst part?

Harry had promised.

Draco should have remembered that all promises had always been broken.

~*@*~

“Was it hard?" I ask.

Letting go?"

Not as hard as holding on to something that wasn't real.”

― Lisa Schroeder

~*@*~

Middle school- 7th Grade

Age 12

“-all know what he’s like! We all want him gone, and I know you do too!” Was that Ron Weasley? Draco stopped in his tracks. He had his arms around Hermione’s birthday present, he had made it himself. It was a jewelry box with little books painted on it. Inside was a gift card for Barnes & Noble and a small charm bracelet that was Percy Jackson themed. Hermione wasn’t having a birthday party, so he made her a present anyway, as he did for all of Harry’s friends.

When they came back from summer, Harry was surrounded by many friends.

Kids like Neville Longbottom, the Weasleys, Hermione, those Patil Twins and Lavender Brown. Zacharias Smith, and Anthony Goldstein. Cho Chang and Luna Lovegood, who he has shared a class with and wanted to be friends with but he never seemed to find her after classes, it’s not as though he doesn’t know how to take a hint.

They seemed to live near each other, and their parents were great friends as well. He had Harry’s late birthday present in hand-since they hadn’t met up over the break- and tapped his shoulder, giving it to him when they had a free period.

Harry had given him a small smile and introduced him to his friends.

“-we can’t just kick him out! That’s not nice, he hasn’t done anything wrong!” That was Harry, Draco realized, snapping back to reality.

“Yes, we can Harry! He’s a Malfoy, and he can’t be trusted. We all want him gone! He’s so annoying and clingy. We can all see how much you don’t like him hogging you, Harry. It’s ok if you don’t want him around. It doesn’t make you a bad person. You can say no.” Draco squeezes his eyes shut and leaned a bit closer. His breathing became labored, and he clutched his arms tighter around the box.

Please say no, please please say no, come on Harry please-

“Yeah, you’re right-”

Draco dropped the box with a bang and ran.

~*@*~

“Perhaps this is what the stories meant when they called somebody heartsick. Your heart and your stomach and your whole insides felt empty and hollow and aching.”

― Gabriel García Márquez

~*@*~

8th Grade- Graduation

Age 14

“Draco Malfoy- A honors, Principal's Award” There was a small round of clapping as Draco shyly stood up and accepted the certificate, posing for a brief picture. His eyes found those of his mother’s and he smiled brightly. The ones he only did around her.

As his eyes swept across the room, he landed on a mess of raven hair. Harry was scowling at the floor and Draco peered at him in curiosity and concern. When Harry lifted his gaze and Draco’s silver eyes searched the emerald ones. His heart stopped at what he saw in them.

Pure hatred.

Thank Hades and Poseidon that Draco was the last student. (Best for last they say)

~*@*~

“I don't think anyone can give you advice when you've got a broken heart.”

― Britney Spears

~*@*~

High school-

Senior year-

2 days after the chemistry class

Harry Potter keeps on following him.

He’s been since the very beginning of the year.

At first, Draco didn’t know what to think. He really didn’t think much of it, so Harry was in the lunch line at the same time as him, or at the library every day that he was, big deal.

It was only once he thought over it after that chemistry class a couple of days ago, that he realized it really could not be a coincidence.

Harry was following him around, almost like a lost puppy that’s found a human with a biscuit in their pocket. Only Draco had no idea what the ‘biscuit’ Harry wanted was.

Never did Draco think that he was the ‘biscuit’ Harry wanted.

-.*.-

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

― E.A. Bucchianeri, Brushstrokes of a Gadfly,

-.*.-

“Hey Draco,” Draco looked up from his book, already a bit peeved with this person for interrupting his reading. Never tickle a sleeping dragon, they say, or a reading one. Both will end in a way most would find unpleasant.

Eyebrows scrunched together, he tilts his head in confusion as he looks behind him to see if there was anyone she was talking to other than him. A girl stood in front of him, a soft smile on her brown skin with cool, jewel undertones. But what makes him remember her is the bushy dark brown curls that float around her as she stands in front of him. His mask falls back down in a blink.

Hermione Granger.

Oh no…

“C-Can I help you?” Draco whispers, playing it off as if he doesn’t recognize her. Why are all these people seeing him all of a sudden?

For years, Draco had been invisible, never acknowledged. Why is it that now; when he’s finally come to terms with his isolation; when he’s able to get used to crying himself to sleep at night, alone with only the sound of artificial rain from his speakers filling his silent apartment; when he’s finally used to fending for himself; when he’s finally accepted he’s never going to be whole, why is it now, that people are seeing him? People who he had tried to get the attention of; people he let in; people who he thought he could trust; people who he thought would let him hope-

People who then broke him; left him crying, another piece cracked, shattered, irreplaceable. They left him, and now they’re coming back?

Do they think he’s really that naive?

He does the ducking and hiding tactic again, watching as Hermione's hopeful eyes which were lit up only moments ago, dimed with something akin to sadness. But, he knows people can be brilliant actors.

Yes, he knows that’s hypocritical of him…

...shut up.

“I- um… W-What book are you reading?” She blurts out, and Draco barely manages to resist the urge to raise an eyebrow. He simply raises the book higher so she can read the front, effectively making the book cover his face as well.

Go away, please just leave me alone…

“Oh, that’s such an interesting topic! Do you know where I could find books on that in here?” Face still hidden behind his book, Draco rolls his eyes. Hermione was so bad at creating fake conversations, he would know.

Draco points to the call number on the spine of his book. It is a pretty familiar topic, one even the most unscholarly of students would know. It was just on Greek Gods, he’s always had a fascination for the ancient times. Probably because it was easier to get lost in a world that wasn’t his own.

Hermione slowly writes down the call number, after making a show of not having a paper or pen. It’s almost as if she wants to draw this out. How easy it would be to just reach out and grasp the chance. To just relieve her of her struggles, let her talk with him. It’s obvious that she wants to, the reason why is beyond him.

But he can’t, he can’t have his heart broken again. He can’t let himself hope anymore. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself back together again.

Everyone he lets in leaves.

Pansy, his preschool friend, had moved. Blaise, the one exchange student that had come from Italy during 8th grade, had only been near him because he knew Italian -what else do you think Draco does with his time-. Once Blaise had learned enough English, he too left.

Hermione had left, Harry had left, his father, his mother, even Dobby.

All of them had left.

Sometimes he wonders if he should just leave too.

_~*~_

“Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.”

― Stephen King, Hearts in Atlantis

_~*~_

It’s not that he’s suicidal, it’s more that he’s self aware. He doesn’t want to die, but it’s not as if he has a reason to be alive. He sometimes feels he lives in a state of non existence. Like he’s not living but still there. Not dead, but doomed to roam the Earth without being acknowledged.

He doesn’t fear Death, it seems more like a friend that he knows he will meet one day. But he doesn’t know what day, nor does he know when or how he feels about it. He’s come to terms with his fate.

His plan was to leave this town and go abroad, possibly to France? His mother had -used to- have connections there.

But why is everything changing all of a sudden?

_~*~_

“Sometimes life has a cruel sense of humor, giving you the thing you always wanted at the worst time possible.”

― Lisa Kleypas, Sugar Daddy

_~*~_

“-again?” A voice says. Draco stops still. Suddenly he’s taken back to 7th grade.

We all want him gone!

He’s once again faced with a choice. Just around the corner the voice sighs, Draco presses himself against the wall practically holding his breath.

He knows he should move. He should run away, to not be hurt like he had been before. To not eavesdrop as it’s just plain rude, and his mother was mostly likely wincing from above. He knows he shouldn’t stay where he is, back against the wall, knuckles clenched till they’re stark white as they grip the book he has trapped against his chest, but…

But he can’t help it, the masochist in him winning out. The small part of him that wants answers, the one who always asks why.

He stays, daring to catch every word, challenging destiny, and mocking fate.

What he hears rocks him to his very core.

And his little flame of hope that had been long extinguished lit up one again.

_~*~_

“Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.”

― Mineko Iwasaki

_~*~_

When Draco was three he had made a friend with a small little garden snake. She was very sweet and affectionate, for a snake. He found her tangled in his mother’s rose bush, a hawk circling above the area. He rescued her, and being as smart as she was, she didn’t attack him.

When his father found out, saying he was angry would be an understatement. He was positively livid. Draco had ran from the room with his friend wrapped around his wrist, rushing to leave her in the clutches of Mother Nature, lest she meet a terrible fate.

Upon releasing little Serena, Draco knew he would have to face punishment. It was not the first time his father had used his cane on him, but the silver digging into his own skin was worth the knowledge that his Serena would live for another day, at the very least.

The next day his father had came home with chocolates and apologies and Draco had embraced him and accepted his apologies. Of course Draco held that little silver memory close amidst all the dulled and rusted ones. That had been the last time his father had even gotten physical with him again, but aren’t mental scars just as worse?

Yet trust is like a mirror, even when they’ve apologized you can still see the cracks in that person’s reflection.

_~*~_

“The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it...”

― Nicholas Sparks, At First Sight

_~*~_

“Pardon?”

Draco refused to believe the man in front of him, Gods, when had Harry grown up?

Draco refused to believe the words coming out of raven haired man in front of him. Refused to believe Harry had even wanted to talk with him, let alone believe the explanation that was given to him.

He was sitting on the floor of the gent’s bathroom, having a panic attack again. This day kept surprising him, first with opening his locker to see flowers -white roses, his absolute favorite- in his lockers, along with a small package, sent him into a panic. This were all to similar to his father’s apologies. Why would someone send him this, why was this year not making any sense? He just wants to end High School so he can leave this area all together. So he can just leave and got study abroad like he had always planned to. There were no ties to him in his hometown after all.

But he got his answer in the form of a frantically apologizing Harry Potter.

“Please Draco, please believe me. I’m sorry, it was all a misunderstanding!”

“But y-you, and you said- Weasley- and me, and and-”

“None of it Draco! You didn’t hear everything, Ron was just being a jealous prick. I swear, I would never have left you! You were my first friend, my one link that made me want to stay here after moving from place to place for so so long. Please give me another chance. Please, please, please-” Harry’s bright eyes glistened with tears as he held Draco close to his chest, just as he had when he followed the blond into the restroom 15 minutes ago. Although it had felt like hours.

Harry whispering soft nothings into Draco’s ears trying to bring the silver eyed man down from his panic attack. Draco using the sound of Harry’s thumping heartbeat to calm himself down.

Now, they were talking, Draco with his back pressed against the wooden door and Harry kneeling in front of him, holding his hands and pleading with him.

And Draco was stunned, he was shocked and it seemed time froze. Someone wanted him? Someone out there wanted to talk with him? To do simple things like listen to him ramble about Greek Gods and fantasy stories. To do things like get coffee or tea with him at his favorite cafe. To do silly things he didn’t particularly enjoy but decided to participate in because his friend really enjoyed it.

There was someone?

“You mean...You do want to be friends with me? But why? I-I’m not-?” Draco cut off Harry’s rambling with a soft whisper. Draco looked up, fearing pity or disgust in those emerald eyes but all he saw were desperate tears.

Harry sobbed and crushed the smaller blond in his arms. Draco stiffed, not used to physical affection, or touch in general. When Harry pulled away, he looked the blond in the eyes, the silver filled with confusion and tiniest sliver of reluctant hope, while the green were filled with desperate determination.

“Draco, I will never let you go again. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, whether you like it or not. You’ll never be alone again.”

Draco stared back at Harry. Could it be? Could it be that he was wrong all along? Maybe he wasn’t doomed to live life alone, but he could only find out one way.

Draco let Harry pull him up, guiding him out to the hallway of the empty school. Draco looked up at the taller boy, meeting his eyes willingly.

For the first time since his mother’s passing, Draco smiled.

The world exploded in colour.

~*(✿)*~

“We're staying together," he promised. "You're not getting away from me. Never again.”

― Rick Riordan, The Mark of Athena

~*(✿)*~

~~~~~~

HOPE YOU ENJOYED! Please Like and Leave a comment if you did! I wouldn’t mind a reblog too! :)

With all my Love

Vixen

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fanfiction #draco malfoy #harry potter #angst #angsty fanfic #drarry angst #High school AU #Drarry high school AU #Muggle AU #Drarry Muggle AU #wizarding world of harry potter #moodboards #collab #fanfic collab #drarry collab

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