#then he asks if you want soup and you nod and he screams for mr compress to make some soup

[gracegootee]

NIGHTMARES AND SECRETS

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Trigger warning: Panic attack

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Mario and Luigi have finally settled into their new home in the Mushroom Kingdom and Mario wanted to give Lu a tour of the entire kingdom.

As they were strolling through the city shop, two Toad children with notepads came running up to them.

“Are you the Super Mario Bros?” They asked excitedly.

Mario and Luigi smiled and Mario gave the kids a thumbs up. “That’s us!”

The kids jumped up and down full of laughter and excitement. “We want to be news reporters when we grow up so we wanted to interview the heroes of the kingdom!” One of them said, getting her pen and paper out and ready, her friend taking out his toad-phone for a recording of the interview.

“Mario and Luigi,” the boy toad started. “What was it like fighting off the evil king Bowser?”

“Oh he sure was a big fight.” Mario stated. “But he was nothing against my little brother and I working together with the power of the Super Star.”

Luigi smiled at his big brother and nodded.

“Yep! That mean old Koopa is locked away eating mini-mushrooms for good!” said Luigi, leaning his elbow on his big brother’s shoulder.

The boy held his phone out to Luigi next. “Luigi, we do have one more question: during Mario’s adventure, you were in the clutches of the fire-breathing Koopa: King Bowser and were surrounded by nothing but his fortress of fire! We heard you were almost burned alive with others too! What was it like?”

Luigi shook at the child’s question. The flashback of Bowser’s fierce red eyes staring down into his scared soul, remembering the pain he felt when he gripped tight, his stache pulled and the Koopas sharp claws digging in his sides, trying hard not to yell in pain.

Luigi’s heart raced and he fell on his knees, shaking and panting fast.

“Mr. Mario!” The girl toad screamed. “What’s wrong with him?!”

Mario knelt down to his brother. “Luigi! Luigi!”

The voice was nothing but a blur in his ears as more flashbacks flashed his mind of the tragic memory of almost being burned alive, the memories or running away from a herd of dry bones and the heat hitting his back and face as he hung over lava in a cage with other prisoners which felt like forever. The final memory was him lying in the hard ground, struggling to stand as Bowser’s voice rang: “Let’s see how tough this Mario is when he watches me kill his brother!”

“Stop!” Luigi yelled out. Tears rolled down his face as he found himself on the ground, shaking. His vision was blurred as was breathing fast, trying to catch breath.

He yelped when he felt something touch his shoulder.

“Woah! Woah! Lu! It’s me!”

The sound of his brother’s voice calmed him down. He was still lying on the ground, struggling to stand as he noticed most of the toads and Mario were staring at him.

Mario helped Luigi get up on his knees.

“Are you okay?” Mario asked worryingly.

Luigi looked away from the toads and Mario, embarrassed about what just happened. “I-I’m…”

Nice going! He thought to himself, upset and embarrassed. Way to show how much of brave hero you are.

Luigi tried not to let the tears show. His head hung low as Mario let Luigi help him get back up. “Can we go home…please…”

Mario smiled.

“Sure thing. Come on Lu.”

“Is Mr. Luigi gonna be okay?” One of the toad children called out.

“He’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” Mario reassured the toads, having Luigi rest his arm on his shoulder and he walked him home.

Later that night, Luigi sat at table with a cup of chamomile tea that was almost gone to help him relax and he rested his head on his arms. He didn’t speak a word since what happened that afternoon.

Mario walked up to Lu. “Hey, little bro. Are you hungry for dinner?” He was holding a bowl of soup in his hands, hot and ready for his brother to eat.

Luigi, still silent and shook his head. There was a knock on the door.

“I’ll be right back.” Said Mario. He set the bowl of soup by Lu’s cup of tea and walked up to the front door to look out the window and see who it was. It was Princess Peach! Toad was with her. Mario quickly opened the door.

“Princess!” Mario exclaimed, gesturing her to the living room. “Please come in!”

“I heard something happened to Luigi.” Peach said worryingly. “Is he okay?”

Mario sighed. Word spreads fast. “Some toad children were interviewing Lu and I,” he whispered, not wanting his little brother to hear. “And I think he had a panic attack.”

“From kids asking him questions?” Toad questioned sarcastically.

“It wasn’t the kids.” Mario explained. “It was the question they asked him.”

“What did they ask him?” Asked Peach.

“Something about being trapped in Bowser’s prison or something.” Mario said sadly. “I think something happened to him that he doesn’t want to tell me.”

The three turned and noticed that Luigi wasn’t at the table anymore.

“Luigi?” Mario called out. He gestured Peach and Toad to follow him to the bedroom door. Mario peeked through the crack of the door and saw his brother sitting in front of his bed rubbing his hands. Mario knocked on the door.

“Can we come in? The princess and Toad are here.”

Luigi gave his older brother a curious look and nodded.

The three walked and sat on Mario’s bed.

“Luigi.” Mario started. “I know you don’t want to talk about it but I know something is bothering you.” Mario let out a heavy sigh. “As your older brother, it’s my job to look out for you and be there for you and right now…I need to know what’s bothering you.” His voice started to break but still spoke softly. “Not just because of what happened earlier but also how you’ve been acting like you’re alright but I know you’re not because I know what my little brother looks like when something is scaring him.”

Toad rested his hand on Mario’s shoulder.

Luigi shook and stared at his broken brother with sad blue eyes, trying not to cry. He sighed.

“I-I…I’ve been having a hard time sleeping most nights because of my nightmares and sometimes…” he sniffled, trying to hold the tears back. “I would wake up screaming and telling Mario I’m fine when I’m NOT!”

The three gave Luigi a shocked look.

“Luigi,” Peach said with a gentle voice. “How long have you been having these nightmares?”

Luigi’s voice cracked. “Since our battle with Bowser in Brooklyn.”

“2 months?!” Toad exclaimed.

Peach walked up to the shaky plumber and placed her hands in his, helping him calm down the shaking. “Want to tell us what the nightmares were about?” Asked Peach.

Luigi dared not to look at anyone in the eyes. “My nightmares were mostly flashbacks of what happened when I was in the Dark Lands.” He started.

“My nightmares start off with me in the middle of the forest alone and being chased by these dead-like Koopas. I’m then surrounded and dragged to Bowser’s castle by now Shy Guys with rope tied to my wrists so tight I couldn’t stop to even look back because I would be pulled hard by them.” He tried to calm himself with slow breaths as he rubbed his hands, revealing the rope burn on his wrists.

Mario covered his mouth in shock at the intense burns on his little brother’s wrist.

Tears started to run down Luigi’s eyes. “And Bowser! He…he interrogated me and tortured me: pulling my stache, gripping my whole body with his claws that my sides were scarred and he threw me to the ground.

And then I’m in a cage over fire. I can hear the voices of screaming citizens around me. I-I keep my eyes covered before I fall into the fire and then…I wake up screaming and sweating! Feeling like the pain I went through in the Dark Forest is still there and…” he took a deep breath and rested his head on his arms, looking away.

“When Bowser threw me, I felt a ring in my ears…but his voice was so loud he made sure I was able to hear what he said before being thrown in that cage.”

The three were silent for a moment as Luigi hung his head low.

“What did he say?” Peach asked.

“He…He said that they’ll have to see how tough Mario was when he watches him kill me!”

Tears ran down Luigi’s eyes and he started to cry. Not saying another word. “I just want these nightmare to go away and they just won’t go!”

Mario stood up and walked up to his little brother. He knelt in front of him and leaned in to give him the biggest hug. Luigi wrapped his arms around Mario and buried his face in his brothers shoulder, crying.

“I’m s-sorry, Mario!”

Mario shushed him gently, crying softly. “You don’t have to be sorry, little brother. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

Peach and Toad joined in the hug that lasted for 5 minutes until they heard soft snoring from Luigi.

Toad laughed. “Looks like he fell asleep pretty quick.”

“He needed to rest.” Said Mario, tears dried from both of the brothers.

Mario and Peach smiled at each other gently. His brother was fast asleep on his lap, snoring.

“Thank you, princess.”

Peach smiled back. “Of course, mustache.”

Mario laid Luigi in bed and turned on his nightlight.

“Well,” said Peach. “Toad and I must be heading back to the castle.”

“Alright,” smiled Mario. “Goodnight, Princess.”

They both left and Mario walked back to the bedroom. He smiled as Luigi was sleeping soundly and this time, there was no tears, no panics or screams, just three words.

“Goodnight big brother.” He said in his sleep. Mario laughed and headed off for bed.

“Goodnight Lu.”

#mario #super mario #luigi #nintendo #super mario bros #the super mario bros movie #mario movie #illumination #my writing #angst #angst with a happy ending

[gentrychild]

mdzs AU where either lwj is better at communication (mr not even my brother knew I was in love until I attacked 33 of our elders), or wwx less of a brickhead (mr did I become gay bc of being in the body of a gay)

Holy shit, Anon, did you need to roast them like that? I know that this is nothing but the truth but I am pretty sure you killed Wei Ying again and Lan Zhan will need another year to heal.

Before I start, I must apologize because I feel I can't make them too good at communication without making them OOC.

1 - This happens during the "Come back to Gusu with me." scene. Instead of jumping to the worse conclusion, WWX, who is absolutely exhausted and whose brain is barely working, looks at those beautiful, all concerned, golden eyes, and asks "Why??? Why would you want me to go back to Hosu? With you?" He genuinely doesn't compute. LWJ explains that he wants Wei Ying to come back with him because he is worried for him. Wei Ying looks like he hasn't slept in six months. He might die. WWX is confused as to why someone would care about him but also kinda moved. He thanks LWJ but explains he must go back to Lotus Pond to see his sister. LWJ nods and informs him that he will accompany him there. They go to the Lotus Pond, informs the shijie that WWX is alive and then WWX, still heavily sleep deprived, kinda follows LWJ back to the Lotus Pond, passes out and proceeds to sleep for the next week. LWJ is elevated.

2 - Now, JC might suck at communicating but he knows a sibling stealer when he sees one. He thought his sister was safe after the soup incident but he apparently should have watched out for that awful Lan! He breaks into Gosu, saying that LWJ cannot marry his brother. To everyone's surprise, WWX is "Why not? He is [lists an endless list of of all of LWJ's qualities and why he would make an excellent spouse]." LWJ's ears are fully red while LQR and JC have passed out from sheer rage, which was WWX's plan all along. He informs LWJ that it's time to go hunt Wens again and he leaves, with LWJ running after him.

3 - There is nothing romantic about a war but WWX and LWJ learn to know each other more through it. They are partners in this war, always by each other side. WWX learns that LWJ doesn't hate him and that he was looking for him during his disappearance because he was worried. He calls LWJ his friend. LWJ learns that WWX cares about him. It's even possible that he realizes WWX doesn't have a golden core anymore (and why).

4 - After the war ends, the other clans are looking at the grandmaster of demonic arts and being "Maybe we should... get rid of him?" The Lan elders are not happy about someone using the demonic arts. But the Lan brothers immediately "Oh, we just know you're not about to throw under the bus someone you were all too happy to use against the Wens during the war. Pretty sure it would break a couple of rules." and pretty much tells them that if WWX is punished, they will share his punishment since they helped him during the war and didn't try to stop him. JC, who can't do less than those two Lans, also warn that the Jiang clan will stand by WWX. Which is very good because WWX rescues the remaining Wens the next day. And brings back his friend back to life. LWJ is too in love to be annoyed but JC screams so much that he loses his voice for a week.

5 - However, since WWX keeps being WWX and playing with dark forces, someone breaks it to him that it would be better if he forged a powerful alliance with a clan. Now that I think about it, it's Wen Qing, so there is a moment of confusion where WWX thinks WQ wants him to play matchmaker for her and JC (he was really enthusiastic about it). WQ had to spell out that he should marry LWJ. WWX is shocked. LWJ obviously deserves to marry someone wonderful and shouldn't be shackled to someone like him. LWJ appears (was he actually near them or did he teleport after sensing someone talking about WWX's marriage? Your guess is as good as mine.) and he informs WWX that if he's not opposed to it, this is actually an excellent idea. WWX is not opposed to it. WWX is under the impression LWJ is doing that to keep the peace. It's okay, though, he will soothe LWJ's sacrifice by being the best cultivation partner he can.

+ 1 - Cue a very ridiculous fake marriage for WWX and LWJ trying to pull a Fake Wedding to Lovers AU. Since it's pre timeskip LWJ, he fails but it's okay, WWX is the first one to kiss him.

#mdzs au #5 headcanons game #closed ask game

[melshome]

paint splattered teardrops - chapter 5

cw angst, fluff, body shaming, bullying, slowburn??, harassment, abuse characters scaramouche, childe mentioned a lot, other chars mentioned a/n THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT!! thaNK YOU sm, omg I love you guys so much ahh you all are my motivation to write these.

forgive me if the writing is a bit off- i haven't written anything since the last time i posted. </3

im also going to change Tuecer calling Kuni, to "Big bro Scara"..

not sure if you two still want to be pinged for this series, let me know if you want me to not ping you anymore!! (let me know if you'd like to be pinged for this series!!!) @local-mr-frog @moonbyunniee

"Oh, there you are Y/N! Scara, you too?" Childe jogs up to you two.

Kunikuzushi watches as Childe hugs you gently. "If you ever need something, or someone to talk to, Childe is here," he winks at you.

You smile, praying that your eyes aren't red or puffy. "Thank you Childe, you're a good friend."

Kunikuzushi scoffs, walking to the rest of the class. Childe playfully rolls his eyes, and walks with you to the rest of the class, letting you know what they got up to while you were gone. He watches each stroke of the paint brush touch the canvas, staring at the colors blend together.

He glances at her face time to time, staring at her eyelashes, how the sun the shining on her eyes, showing how long her natural eyelashes really are.

Her hand is steady as she paints in the fine spaces, and there is confidence filling her eyes as she continues painting, a small smile rising up.

"Oh, I'll be right back. Toilet," Kunikuzushi says, standing up.

She looks up, and nods her head, "alright."

He closes the art door behind him, and walks to the music room, immediatly knowing where she'd be.

"Ahh, scaramouchie~" Signora jumps down from the table, and hugs Kunikuzushi. He pushes her off, Signora hitting herself on the edge of the table.

She winces, groaning at the pain. "Ow.. What the hell did you do that for?"

Kunikuzushi glares at her, clearly pissed. Signora frowns at him, and stands up straight. He chuckles, remembering how Y/N sobbed on his shoulder.

"You piece of.. how dare you hurt her? How long have you been hurting her? Threatening her just for being friends with Childe and I?" Kunikuzushi takes a step towards her, but she clearly doesn't think he's intimidating, as he's about half a head shorter than her.

Signora smirks, "what? Did I do something to your precious little bun?"

Kunikuzushi scoffs, before grasping the front of Signora's shirt and he pulls her down onto the ground.

Signora screams, holding her arm. "YOU (swear word/s, use ur imagination~)!"

He shakes his head, balling up his right hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her cheek.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?" The teacher bursts into the scene, with another student, next to her. Y/N is standing there, her face pale like a loose leaf of paper. "Scara.." Childe says, but Kunikuzushi glares at him. Childe closes his mouth, and goes back to cooking.

"Big bro Scara!" Teucer sits himself on the stool, and stares at Kunikuzushi, frowning.

Kunikuzushi tries his best to not glare at Teucer, but he ends up glaring anyways. "Why are you upset? Is it because Big sister Y/N isn't here?"

Sadness fills his face and his glare , before Childe takes Teucer away.

"Time to go do your homework Teucer.." Childe whispers, shooing Teucer away upstairs.

"Is.. Y/N doing okay?" Kunikuzushi manages to ask Childe.

"She said she's doing okay, but I mean, knowing her.." Childe shakes his head, sighing quietly, stirring the soup.

"I'm going to go check in on her soon, giving her this soup for her dinner," Childe says, turning to Kunikuzushi.

"And no, you're not coming, I don't think she wants to see you."

Kunikuzushi gives Childe a dirty look for knowing what he was thinking. You lay on your bed, staring at your starry ceiling, wondering what you should say to Kunikuzushi after the week. He got suspended for a week, he could've done worse, but Childe somehow persuaded the principal for a week.

"Y/N, Childe is here!" Your mum says.

You sit up quickly, wondering what he's doing here. You look down at your bunny pyjamas, and scrabble to get changed into something a bit more nicer, but right as you open your closet, Childe knocks on the door.

"Y/N? Can I come in?"

You sigh quietly, just hoping he doesn't laugh, as you say he can.

He opens the door, and stops when he sees your pyjamas. "What wonderful attire.. you've got on," he smirks, placing down a plastic bag with some sort of container in it.

"Shut up, I wasn't expecting you. You should've called," you gesture him to sit on the office chair.

"So what brings you here, Childe?" you ask, sitting on your bed, hoping he doesn't mention anything that happened.

"I bought some soup for you, it's a cold night tonight. Make sure to eat it and then stay warm in your room," Childe nods his head as he talks.

"Ah.." You try to swallow the ball of worries, all the overthinking thoughts, but they linger.

"Thank you.." you smile, thankful for his small gesture of kindness towards you.

"Scara.. he uh.. he doesn't know what to say to you. He just hopes you don't think bad of you," Childe suddenly blurts out, after a few seconds of silences.

You look up, and sees Childe's pleading eyes. You chuckles, your face turning warm at the thought of Kunikuzushi saying that.

"I don't think bad of Kunikuzushi, I would never. I know what he did was.. bad.. but.."

"He didn't deserve it, Signora did. I wish Signora got some sort of punishment instead.." you try to avoid Childe's eye contact, as he stares at you in shock.

"Me and Scara were expecting.. you to be mad at him.. But this is even better. I'm sure Scara would be glad to hear that.." Childe smiles, standing up.

"But, before I go..." He says, as he stops opening the door.

You tilt your head, confused.

"You should tell Scara all what you told me, he'd be secretly happy to hear those words from you, than from me," Childe closes the door behind him, not letting you speak up.

You open the door and watch as he leaves your house, thanking your parents.

Oh my god... I hate confrontation..

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact fluff #genshin angst #high school au #genshin modern au #melshome #scaramouche genshin #scaramouche angst #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin

[wonderlandleighleigh]

okay hear me out: what if gordon had midge guest host for lenny’s interview but plot twist: they havent spoken since carnegie hall

"My next guest is hot off of a run at Carnegie Hall. He's a very funny man with a lot to say, please welcome Lenny Bruce!"

He steps out, and Midge keeps her smile in place, but her head is screaming because she didn't think it was possible for him to look thinner but here he is, four months after Carnegie Hall. She hadn't had a chance to catch him backstage, an if she had, she's not sure she would have been able to stop herself from sitting on him and force feeding him soup.

The applause is big, though as he settles onto the couch next to the desk.

"Look at you," he grins at her, clearly exhausted. "Behind that desk, it looks good on you, Midge."

"Why thank you," Midge grins at him. "Sometimes Gordon gets tired of all the fame and glory so I get to take over."

"Well, he's got good taste in stand-ins," Lenny tells her. "Doesn't he, everyone?"

The audience cheers, and she waves them off.

"We're here to talk about you," Midge reminds him. "You've got a night at the Apollo this coming Saturday."

"Yes, that's very true," Lenny nods. "I figure if people are willing to come and see me in the middle of a terrible blizzard, Harlem isn't such a big ask."

The audience laughs at that, and Midge smiles at him.

"I hear there's another album coming out soon, too," she says. "Are you excited?"

"I am very excited," he tells her, snapping a finger. "It releases in July., and it's all new material."

"Oh, just in time for my birthday," Midge smirks.

"Then I know what to get you already, that's perfect," Lenny teases. "Sign it, wrap it in a bow, send it special delivery to the Upper West Side."

it gets another laugh. He may look tired and thin, but he's with it. He's sharp and on.

"Your set at Carnegie was truly great," Midge tells him. "I was there that night, folks. This man killed. I mean- not literally. He has enough issues with law enforcement. He doesn't need to add to it."

Lenny laughs with the audience. "Yes, well, I was very surprised to be playing to a packed house in the middle of the worst storm in twenty years."

"I bet the Apollo will be just as great," Midge assures him, before turning to the cameras as the assistant director signals for her to wrap it up. "You can see Lenny this Saturday at the Apollo theater, and he is not to be missed. The new album hits shelves in July. As much as I could sit with you here for the next hour, that's a wrap on for tonight. I want to thank Don Rickles for calling me too skinny - such a compliment - as well as Sam Cooke for the incredible music, and Lenny Bruce!"

The audience applauds him and he nods gratefully.

"I'm Mrs. Maisel, you've been wonderful, that's our show, I'm going to go buy this man a sandwich. Thank you and goodnight!"

Once they're wrapped and the microphones are off, Lenny lifts an eyebrow at her.

"You're going to buy me a sandwich?"

Midge lifts an eyebrow back at him, letting her eyes trail over him.

He deflates a little. "Yeah. I know. It's...I know."

"Are you okay?" Midge asks gently as they start to move backstage.

The trepidation on his face makes her take his hand and lead him into her dressing room, closing the door.

"I got-" he stops and looks down, unable to meet her eyes. "I got busted on a narcotics charge," Lenny admits. "And I got thrown into a state-run treatment place. It was unhelpful. In multiple ways."

Midge nods, gazing at him. "So. All is not well."

He finally meets her eyes guiltily.

She takes a breath and squares her shoulders. "There's leftover brisket at my house."

He opens his mouth to respond, and she lifts her hands.

"I'm not trying to fix you," she insists. "Whatever else I feel about you, you're my friend, and I just want to help you."

Lenny swallows and stays silent for a long moment, and Midge gazes at him openly.

Eventually he relents, nodding.

"A little...a little leftover brisket never hurt anybody," he mutters. "Maybe on some bread. With a little horseradish."

She smiles slowly. "You blow any chance of kissing me by eating horseradish."

"...Maybe I'll skip the horseradish tonight," he concedes.

"Get your coat. Papa will be thrilled."

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge/Lenny #Midge x Lenny

[apparitianhanako]

Sky's Birthday

@here4dragons

"Before you start yelling, this was not my fault.” Wind stated, jutting his chin upward ever so slightly to improve his height- or lack thereof.  

“So, you’re saying that Hyrule did this?” Legend crossed his arms, glancing about at his usually clean and tidy kitchen, currently a complete mess. “I leave the two of you alone for ten minutes, and you wreck the house?” 

“It's only the kitchen! And besides, it’s nothing that can’t be cleaned!” 

“You went to make tea! Tea! The easiest thing on the planet to make! How the heck did you make this big a mess with... is that flour? Where you baking a cake or something?!” He threw his hands in the air before running them through his hair. 

“Sky’s birthday is today.” 

“That’s no exc- wait, it is? I suppose that’s why it’s a mess. But seriously Wind, of all the people,” he lowered his voice to a whisper, “you chose Hyrule to help you with baking? Even after the uh....” he coughed, “’soup’ incident?” 

Wind shrugged, “Warriors and Wild are with Twilight in town, Time and Four are both injured, and it's for Sky’s birthday.” 

“And you didn’t think to ask, I don’t know, Ravio, or myself, even? At least we can bake!” 

“Mr. Hero makes really good cake.” 

From the bedroom Four heard Wind and Legend both scream.

“How long have you been there?!” Wind asked. Ravio shrugged and smiled. 

“You haven’t lived if you haven’t had Mr. Hero’s baking before.” He dusted the excess flour off the countertops and began a thorough clean of the kitchen. “And his cider, if you want anyone to cook, its him! Has he ever baked something for you? Tarts or pies maybe? They’re absolutely exquisite!” He rambled, standing on tip-toes to reach inside the cabinets. “I’m not so bad myself, actually!” 

Ravio set out bags of flour and sugar, vanilla and a large amount of other ingredients. “If you’d like some help, I’d be more than happy to oblige!” He said, grabbing an apron from the wall and tying it about his waist while Legend, heaving a sigh, began searching cabinets and drawers alike to find measuring utensils and a large bowl. 

Wind grinned, grabbing his own apron and messily tying it, just in time for Hyrule to enter, dusting himself off. 

“Wait... won’t Legend burn down the kitchen?” 

In the distance you could hear Legend snort. “I’ll burn down the kitchen?” Ravio nudged him. 

“No, Mr. Hero is actually excellent in the kitchen! I’m surprised he hasn’t cooked for you before, he positively superb!” He squeaked, carefully measuring flour into a large bowl while Legend prepared the oven for use. “What type of cake do you suppose he’d like?” Ravio asked. 

“I’m not sure actually...” Wind said, stopping to consider. 

“Well, that's easy than! In Lorule, the most common- and definitely the most delicious, cake is chocolate. We’ll sometimes top it with powdered sugar, icing sometimes- and this is rarer, someone will make ice cream! It's amazing, it’s like... you’re freezing, like a blizzard, but also like you’re not? Like a frozen sensation in your mouth and then it melts into sweet cream.” 

Wind and Hyrule stared blankly at him while all Legend could do was chuckle. 

“What is ‘chocolate’?” Hyrule asked. Ravio slapped a hand to his chest and gasped, taking a step back. 

“You haven’t had chocolate before?! Does Hyrule not make it?! We can’t have that!” Ravio reached inside his bag- which had somehow been in the kitchen, unnoticed, the entire time, and handed each of the small boys a dark brown square. 

“Oh my goodness, it’s bleeding on me!” Hyrule shrieked.  

“Nonono, it’s melting! It's because your fingers are warm!” 

“It’s good too...” Wind said happily, licking his fingers. Hyrule looked at the substance suspiciously before popping it into his mouth and almost dying on the spot. 

“How... how have I never had this before?! It's like, happiness, but you can eat it!” 

Ravio nodded, satisfied with the boys' reactions. “And that’s just the chocolate itself! You haven’t had the cake yet!” 

“He’s right, it’s amazing. For my birthday a few years ago, he made it for me.” Legend said, “Ravio, could you get some milk and eggs?” 

Ravio hesitated, but ended up accepting the annoying – and frightening, job. Collecting eggs was something none of the heroes (aside from Sky) would do easily, I mean- cuckoos where just terrible, but for Sky, it was worth it. 

“Hey Legend, you never did tell us when your birthday was.” Hyrule pointed out, rinsing his hands. 

“Because I don’t remember, Ravio and I share a birthday. That’s how he remembers.” 

Minutes later Ravio re-entered, the setting the cooled milk bottles on the wood table and handing Legend the basket of eggs. 

“Why’s the milk already cooled... do your cows give you cold milk?” Wind asked. 

“There’s snow outside, and a cooler, and ice. What, do you want your milk straight from the cow?” Legend replied, finishing the cake mixture with the eggs and milk while Ravio prepared a pan. 

“Hyrule, you can pour this in its pan, right?” Legend definitely had dread in his voice, but the three shrugged it off as Hyrule proudly did the only job Legend even considered letting him do, and Ravio and Wind cleaned up the mess.  

Once the cake was safely in the oven, Legend made cider for all of them, sending Wind to get Four, Time and Sky. 

Wind had earlier expressed that he didn’t want Sky to know they were preparing anything until it was ready.  

“Something smells really good! Are you guys baking something?” Sky leaned forward, glancing around the kitchen before Wind jumped in front of him. 

“Nah, I think Ledge just burned something! Y’know, or maybe it’s the cider! Cider smells good!” 

“But... if Ledge burned something it wouldn’t smell goo-” 

“Why don’t we all go outside! The snow is thick and sticky, perfect for a snowball fight... of building snow huts!” Ravio suggested, earning a silent thank-you from Wind. “Mr. Hero and Tune can clean up the mess they made!” He laughs heartily before practically shoving scarves and coats at everyone. 

“I’ll help as well!” Hyrule says, setting down the clothes that had been shoved onto his lap. 

Ravio ushered everyone outside, nodded to Legend, and closed the doors. 

Ravio put himself on guard, making sure nobody entered the house while Legend prepared to decorate the cake. Before long he, Hyrule and Wind began to make icing, Hyrule was ecstatic. 

Legend removed the cake from the oven, the most exquisite aroma filling the house along with a string of curses when Legend burned his fingers. 

Wind and Hyrule almost attacked the cake with icing, but Legend, through a few more curses, prevented them from doing so, assisting in neatly decorating and adding a layer of strawberries on the top. 

While most of the icing ended up in Wind’s stomach, the dessert ended up looking beautiful, and Legend was quite satisfied. 

Wild, Twilight and Warriors returned soon after with supplies, and everyone came in from inside. 

There were many questions about the aroma, Legend’s burnt fingers and Wind excited behavior, but all questions were answered when Ravio went into great detail to explain the process of making a cake and Legend sliced the thing and handed each piece off. 

Nobody could explain Twilight’s upset stomach afterward, but he said it was worth it, and everyone agreed. 

#sky lu #linked universe #lu #lu legend #lu wind #lu hyrule #happy birthday sky! #queued post

[wolfverse-stories]

A Tower of birds

(An Irondad/Batfam crossposting)

Chapter 2

     Looking back Tony couldn't help but laugh at the Irony. It was supposed to be a simple little show. A small benefit for an adoption foundation. Little did he know it would lead to the start of his own family...

    No matter how hard he tried Tony couldn't tear his eyes from the horrific scene. All he could do was watch as two bodies came crashing down against the ground. The cries of a small child were drowned out by the screaming as terrified bystanders flew for the exit.

Timeskip

     "Mr. Stark we need you to come with us" one of the officers nudged him towards the police cars.

     "I already gave my statement" He protested crossing his arms.

      "I'm afraid this is about something else," the officer said leading him towards the car at the end. Inside was a small child with dark hair.

     "Is that..." Tony took a deep breath looking back towards the officer "The fly Graysons, that's their kid isn't it"

     "Yes, I'm Afraid so" he nodded "The kids got a bounty on his head, and seeing as you are Ironman we thought it would be safer if he stayed with you"

      "Whoa whoa whoa" Tony put his hands up "First of all people are always trying to kill me, second I'm not the dad type"

     "We could put him in foster care but I'm afraid that's all we could do" he frowned "This is New York there's so much crime we stay busy and kids like him offend fall through the crakes"

     "Fine, I'll take the kid" Tony grumbled.

Timeskip

     Tony stared at the kid sitting across the table. This was a terrible idea, he was the last person that needed a kid. Admittedly the thought of being a father had crossed his mind a few times. He always imagined a baby left at his doorstep, the result of a one-night stand. He never thought of taking in a terrified ten-year-old that just watched his parents die.

     "Are you hungry kid?" He nodded "What do you want to eat?" The kid just gave a small shrug 'Great' Tony sighed going into the kitchen. He opened the almost empty fridge.

Flashback

     "Why do you not have eggs or milk I can't even find a can of soup" Pepper called as she searched through the kitchen.

     "What's the point of cooking when I can get take-out" Tony answered curled up on the couch.

     "No, you're sick which means you need a home-cooked meal" Pepper walked into the living room crossing her arms "Besides what are you going to do when you have kids"

     "Yeah I don't think s-Achoo" Tony sneezed "ruins the whole playboy image"

End of Flashback

     'This does not count' Tony scuffed closing the fridge "Okay we're going out for pi-" Tony froze in his tracks as he looked around the now empty room "Kid?"

     "Up here" Tony looked up to see the kid sitting on top of a tall shelf "How?"

A week later

      "Mr.Stark could you please tell us about your son," A reporter asked pushing towards the front of the crowd.

     "For the last time, he's not my kid!" Tony yelled pushing his way to the car. As soon as he pulled out of the parking lot his phone started ringing "Seriously" he groaned "Answer call"

     "Hey Tony" Pepper answered "So your kid's swinging on the chandelier"

     "He's not my K-Wait, What?" His eyes widened in shock "I have a chandelier?"

Three weeks later

     "I'm just watching him!" Tony yelled slamming the door shut behind him. He walked into the kitchen carrying two bags from the new doughnut shop.

     "Do you want one?" He asked Dick who was sitting at the table watching him.

     "Doughnuts for breakfast?" The kid asked tilting his head.

     "There is a new doughnut shop down the street so I'm doing research" he replied pulling out three boxes of doughnuts "Want one?"

     "Yes sir" Dick nodded. Tony smiled pushing a box towards him.

     "Tell you what" Tony smiled "You stop swinging on the chandelier and I'll buy you so many Donuts you'll ooze jelly" A few seconds later Pepper walked into the room carrying some papers.

     "Hey I got those-" Pepper's eyes landed on the box of Doughnuts "You have got to be kidding me"

     "It was the Kid's idea" Tony joked pointing to Dick who just giggled happily eating his jelly doughnut.

One Month later

     "Tony you can't take a kid out partying"

    "Of course, I can," Tony said fixing the kid's tie "he's my little wingman"

     "He's ten Tony" Pepper rolled her eyes.

     "I know this is a gala, not a real party" Tony responded "Besides, a lot of people bring children"

     "Yes their own" Pepper pointed out crossing her arms "Besides he's just going to be bored to death why would you want to take him"

    "He's the perfect woman magnet" Tony smiled as Dick ran to get his bag "They can't resist that cute little face"

     "This is wrong on so many levels," she said before walking out of the room. That wasn't the real reason and Tony knew it. He didn't want to leave Dick with a babysitter like his parents so often did. Kids shouldn't see more of a stranger than they do of their own parents.

Two Months later

     'No it can't be' Tony's eyes darted around the dark room 'I can't be back here'

     "Looking for something?" Tony quickly spun around to see the last person he wanted to, Obadiah. His hands clenched around the person Tony had come to love the most.

    "Look whatever this is, it's between you and me so let the Kid go" he glared at the madman.

      "Oh I'm afraid I can't" Obadiah grinned "You took away what was most precious to me, so I'm returning the favor" his grip tightened around the kid's neck until there was a loud snap. Dick's lifeless body fell down in front of Tony.

     "No!" Tony screamed as his body jerked forward waking him up. His eyes darted around the room as his breath slowed into its regular rhythm. Finally, he let out a sigh rubbing the sweat off his forehead.

      "Just a nightmare" he reassured himself. Before he could lay back down a scream came from down the hallway. Tony ran to Dick's room as fast as his legs would carry him.

     "No!" The kid thrashed around sobbing in his sleep.

     "Kid" Tony gently shook him "Kid wake up" Dick's eyes snapped open.

     "Dad?" He looked up at Tony. His big blue eyes shining with tears.

      "I'm here" Tony reassured softly, pulling him into a hug "I'm here"

     Dick was his first child. The one who taught him how to love. Dick was Tony's heart.

Prev. / Next

#batfam #dick grayson #tony stark #iron dad #marvel dc crossover #crossovers #fanfic #ao3 crossposting

[aschlindartroom]

Beer cheese soup for the ask game!

Beer Cheese Soup: A scene from your WIP that made you laugh

This is a very old scene that will either be substantially changed in future drafts or chucked altogether, but writing it made me laugh. Dick Soloman's introduction and Dimitri Sokolov from Ehren's 3rd close POV.

Below the cut.

The steel door of the Clever Nightcap burst open into the Cobalt City darkness. Three gunshots exploded, deafening in the small space and ricocheting off the concrete floors and walls. Dimitri released Ehren’s shirt, tucked and rolled behind the edge of the bar. Ehren crumpled to the ground, and took a moment to catch his breath. He could afford it—even with his eyes closed, he knew that the shots had been aimed at the ceiling.

Ehren opened his eyes. Two men dressed in black hovered in the doorway, guns held at the ready and prepared for resistance. The red masks on their faces were smooth, featureless aside from lensed eye sockets and their wide, mad smiles. They stepped to either side of the door, making way. The tapping of well-maintained shoes descended the concrete steps. The man who stepped inside did not hide his face. He was maybe fifty, high cheekbones and well-groomed. He wore a simple dress shirt and slacks, and the three-line tattoo on the side of his neck was large and purposefully unmistakable. Ehren felt the energy from him before his visual impression had fully formed: business—not “as usual,” but business all the same. Ambivalence aside from the slight tang of irritation. If anyone thought to take the man’s pulse, they would find it even.

“Mr. Sokolov,” the man greeted. He stepped into the bar and slipped his hands into his pockets, looking around, leaning to look under tables. “We need to talk.”

“Dick, you son of a bitch!” Dimitri cried. Ehren turned his head. Dimitri was sitting crouched behind the entrance to the bar back. His right eye was closed against a slow stream of blood, blood which flowed freely. A bullet has grazed the side of his head. The hand that wasn’t pressing against the wound slammed against the bar. “You almost fucking killed me!”

“Not intentional, I assure you,” the man, Dick, insisted. “Why don’t you come out from behind there?”

“Rather not,” Dimitri said. He reached into the back of his pants and pulled out a gun of his own, readying it quietly. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Dick asked, conversational. He sat down at the table closest to the door, crossing one leg over the other. “Your popular patrons are finally playing their hand upstairs, against my direct orders. I did warn them, and you, that it would come to blows.” He gestured to a bottle behind the bar. One of his masked men nodded and walked to the end of the counter. He reached across the bar top for a bottle of expensive-looking liquor.

Dimitri twisted his body toward the inside of the bar and fired, bullet expertly piercing the man’s palm. The man screamed and reeled backward. Blood splattered across his face and the wall. He held his hand and cursed profanities, red spilling from the wound. His masked friend only watched, not moving from his post at Dick’s right.

Dick sighed. “Rude, Dimitri.”

“So is stealing my shit and wrecking my fucking bar,” Dimitri snapped.

“My bar,” Dick replied. There was venom there, sucking the air from the room. “Really, Dimitri, you usually at least feign gratitude.”

Dimitri squeezed his eyes shut and sneered from his hiding spot. Ehren had recovered now and watched him carefully, keeping himself still and small. Now, Dick looked at Ehren with a smile. Ehren caught the gaze from his periphery and met his eyes. “Does your bucking ego have anything to do with your impromptu guest?” Dick asked. “I’ve never known you to serve in the morning.”

#Dimitri Sokolov #Dick Soloman #Ehren Schmidt #second serpent asks #second serpent #bird and fish #writing community #second serpent wip #writers of tumblr #writeblr #novel #bird and fish wip

[moodyvoid]

When you’re dating Tomura, absolutely nothing takes precedence over you. Including potentially ending hero society, like:

Hero 1: “I thought we were going to ambush the League of Villains. They said they’d be here, so where are they??”

Hero 2: “Looks like they left a note.”

Hero 2, reading the note: “Sorry, we couldn’t make it. Y/n got a tooth ache. Maybe next time.”

Hero 1: “They can’t be serious—“

Tomura, back at the hideout, holding you: “It’s okay we can end hero society tomorrow ♡”

#then he asks if you want soup and you nod and he screams for mr compress to make some soup #being a villain doesn’t come with dental insurance ���� #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #shigaraki #mha #league of villains #Tomura #tomura x reader #shigaraki x reader

[teeztheflag]

─────────────────────

Mafia!Ateez reaction to their child telling them that a member is flirting with you

trigger warnings ⚠️ mafia themes, flirting, mentions of cheating, possessive behavior, murder, alcohol, sexual harassment (slight)

general taglist: @latte-fairytaekwoon @little-precious-baby @yunhobabygurl @multidreams-and-desires @purplelady85 @smallfrye​

─────────────────────

k i m  h o n g  j o o n g

„Where’s mommy?“ Your little son ran up to Hong Joong to be picked up by the mafia leader.

His eyes wander over the crowd at the garden gathering and when he’s not spotting you he flashes a little smile at his son.

„Mommy is talking to a man.“

Hong Joong nudges the little boy to whereas he points into a direction. Following the path around the house he sees you talking to none other than Kang Yeo Sang. His rival.

When Yeo Sang places his palm on your cheek you take a step back and frown at the boy. Hearing a cough behind you a smile escapes your form. The rival on the other hand rolls with his eyes and lets out a huff.

You’re quick to stand next to your husband and take your son into your arms leaving the two mafia leaders behind.

„You’re getting on my nerves, Kang.“

─────────────────────

p a r k  s e o n g  h w a

„(y/n)...“

You stood stiff in Seong Hwa‘s lavish office. Your gaze trained to the ground and your heart sinking to the bottom when he neared your form. He placed his cold fingers under your chin to raise your head. Locking his eyes with you a sigh escapes him.

„You know you belong to me. Why are you still resisting?“

„I don’t know what you are talking about.“

Seong Hwa engulfs you into his embrace leaning your head on his shoulder.

„Even our princess doesn’t like you betraying me. I will make sure you are not seeing him again.“

─────────────────────

j e o n g  y u n  h o

„And what did he say after that?“

Yun Ho caressed his daughters soft hair while she sat on his lap in their livingroom.

„That he will hurt her. I don’t remember so much... He was really scary daddy!“

With big glossy eyes Yun Ho feels his heart shattering. His daughter being so afraid for his light of the world.

He wouldn’t let Choi San get away with this.

After bringing his angel to bed he visits your shared bedroom to see you being asleep. You’re stirring and he can only guess that your nightmares are back.

With a gun and a sharp knife hidden in his suit he drives fast through the night. His team is already ready to blow up the place.

And with the final hit Yun Ho grabs the ex lover of his wife by his collar.

„I told you to stay away from us. That she is not your business anymore. What were you thinking?“

San struggles in his grip but manages to bring out his probably last words. „Kill me, but, live with the knowledge that she will never love you.“

He dropped to the ground and Yun Ho grasps his shaking hands together rage filling his body.

─────────────────────

k a n g  y e o  s a n g

When your son repeatedly told Yeo Sang that he really liked the guy that was around you since a few weeks he was relieved. It was good Woo Young seemed to do his job right. After the last attack he wanted the both of you safe all the time. That’s why he send one of his best men that he trusted with all of his might.

It was only when he tucked him into bed that he stopped in his tracks being deep in thoughts. He goes downstairs and pours himself a glass of wine. He jolts a little bit when you embrace him from behind and he turns around to eye you with a sharp gaze. Tilting his head you step back and flash him a small smile.

„What’s up?“

„Woo Young‘s taking good care of you, right?“

You frown and immediately know by the tone he uses that something‘s not to his liking, and, Kang Yeo Sang not liking something was bad.

„He is, he is doing a good job. I guess.“

„Hyun Jin likes him, too. But you know what he just told me?“

You absentmindedly reach out to him to probably cool down his anger.

„He told me that uncle Woo Young was really close to you. Close like ‚daddy‘, when I asked him what he meant with that.”

“Yeo Sang, he’s not. He is just friendly. Hugging me as a greeting nothing more.“

„You think our three year old son is lying to me? (y/n), I warn you, I know him. Don’t take his flirting attempts light hearted.“

You nod at him knowing he wouldn’t take any arguing.

„If you can’t stop him I will give him a different job.“ With a last sip he finishes his glass and roughly pulls you into him to place a delicate and territorial kiss on your forehead.

─────────────────────

c h o i  s a n

„Dad, I don’t know how to say this but... I am really worried for your marriage. I mean is everything fine?“

San takes his cup of coffee sitting down on the breakfast table in front of your fourteen year-old daughter. He really needed a moment to register So Ra‘s words.

„What? Of course everything‘s fine! Or what are you even talking about?“

So Ra‘s gaze is trained on the buttered toast in front of her a deep frown taking place on her forehead.

„Yesterday at the gala... and I don’t know if I am mistaking things, but, I feel like she was flirting with this CEO named Song.“

San‘s eyes widened and he quickly takes a another sip from his coffee. „Oh, ehm, believe me your mother has always had her effect on...men.“

„Yeah, but, dad - the guy was literally stripping her naked with his eyes - “

„Choi So Ra! Your words!“ So Ra gestures a sorry with her hands but she didn’t want her mother to be so close to other men. She loved her parents dearly and she wanted to have a marriage like them in the future.

„Really, anyways, don’t worry. Everything‘s perfect. If there’s a problem we would never lie to you, promise!“ He holds his pinky for So Ra and with a relieved sigh she links it like she and her dad always did.

„Good morning!“ You place a kiss on your daughter‘s cheek and send a smirk to San being proud you got the right information last night.

San looks at his two princesses and has to hold back a laugh. If their daughter only knew their jobs things would be more dangerous but in many ways easier, too.

─────────────────────

s o n g  m i n  g i

„What means ‚sexy‘?“

You nearly caugh at your son‘s words quickly drinking something. Min Gi also nearly doubles over laughing while typing away a text for his members for their mission.

„Dong In! I thought we talked about this already.“

Your son was a persistent person eyeing you suspiciously.

Min Gi places his device on the table continuing to eat the soup for their shared dinner. „It means beautiful, but, it’s not a really polite word, Dong In.“

„Ah, so Mr. Kim is not polite to you Mum?“ That indeed catches your husband‘s attention.

„What is he talking about, (y/n)?“ A sly smile leaves him.

You groan out knowing sooner or later your son would’ve told him. „Well, Dong In‘s teacher just seems to need a talk with me about our son occasionally. And today he told me that he thinks I am ‚beautiful‘. Right, Dong In?“ Your son wasn’t paying attention anymore but with a naive sigh he slurped the rest of his soup.

„He said mommy‘s a sexy thing.“

„Dong In!“ Min Gi slowly sits back flexing his arm‘s muscles. He eyes you with a hungry gaze while he nudges Dong In.

„Next time Mr. Kim is telling your mother that she’s beautiful you say that your dad thinks so, too. Alright buddy?“ Min Gi fist bumps with your son.

„Got it!“

─────────────────────

j u n g  w o o  y o u n g

Woo Young wasn’t really a jelous man. He knew his worth and he also tend to be proud of the woman at his sight. Your auro caught the gazes of many men and that only boosted the mafia‘s ego.

When a man was flirting with you it was for you to play by the game. Being raised into the mafia business yourself you knew how to handle those greedy bastards.

Woo Young only smirked in the back of a booth when someone sneaked into the seat next to you at the bar. His men ready at any given chance to beat up the poor soul that tried to take what was Jung‘s.

But - he also loved your sneaky site.

It was only a button that you pushed too far when your daughter went up to his daddy to cry about how you were not giving her enough attention at the big gathering. Like the father himself their princess needed the recognition from her beloved ones.

Woo Young‘s gaze darkened when he saw you being corned by the one and only mafia leader of the west - Choi Jong Ho.

„That b - “

„Daddy! You didn’t want to swear! Mommy told you not to swear!“

„Ahhh, you’re right darling.“ He turned around to give his daughter into Seong Hwa‘s arms - one of his members.

With confident steps he emerges your form at the end of the room where Jong Ho was busy playing with your hair while talking about his latest wins in the business.

„Choi. Would you mind keeping your hands to yourself?“ Woo Young was raging by now. You didn’t stop the rival from touching you and the naive smile you send to your lover only angered him more.

„Let’s ask the lady what she wants.“ Jong Ho wiggles his eyebrows at Woo Young and you mentally facepalmed knowing Mr. Jung would scream bloody murder in a few seconds.

„I am sorry Mr. Choi.“ You gracefully step into Woo Young‘s arms giving him the satisfaction of winning this little debate with his rival. Jong Ho laughs out loud and turns around to leave the two of you.

„If you want attention ask for it. Don’t make me mad, baby.“

You lock eyes with him putting on a pout. „This way it is much more fun!“

─────────────────────

c h o i  j o n g  h o

It was the final day your son got introduced to the mafia world. A big party was held for him after he was prepared for everything over months. It was also his 16th birthday party and you had tears in your eyes knowing he was growing into a man so quickly really assembling his father in many ways.

It has been Park Seong Hwa‘s presence that put you off. He was an acquaintance of your clan for a long time but you didn’t really like the guy. When he approached you after dinner, when you were ushering your son to dance with a girl on the dancefloor, you immediately knew he was going to get on your nerves again.

He made jokes, touched you and clearly invaded your personal space. For the sake of your peaceful agreement you played his game hoping someone would come to help you out of your misery.

„Dad, I will literally kick this guy‘s balls if - “

„I already know about it.“ Jong Ho‘s gaze is fixed on your figure across the room. He turns to his son and tells him to have fun. He would take care of the matter.

Jong Ho soundlessly leans into your side leading Seong Hwa to roll with his eyes. He places a meaningful and strong kiss on your trembling lips catching your weight with his arms to steady you.

Playfully he turns around to the mafia a smile adoring his features. „Mr. Park. I didn’t even see you there!“ You’re quick to leave the duo to get to the toilet knowing by the squeeze Jong Ho just gave you a few seconds ago.

„Still so possessive I see. Let us leave this by complimenting you on your still beautiful wife.“ He let’s out a giggle while eying the crowd.

„Thank you, Seong Hwa. Seems to be running in my family.“

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↺ back to navi

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#ateez mafia #ateez reaction #ateez mafia au #ateez reactions #ateez au #ateez writing #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez x reader

[nnightskiess]

𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

₊° - 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧!𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧

₊° - 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: when anthony invites one of eloise's possible suitors over for dinner at the bridgerton house, y/n makes sure the boy will not want to come back.

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

"But Mama-"

"The arrangements are done- he's coming over. We can't change the plans on such short notice. It would be rude if not raise questions. You cannot break a promise."

"I would rather get hit by a carriage than-"

"Eloise! Don't you finish that sentence." A stern look from her mother shut her up, but not before she let out a frustratingly loud groan as she let herself fall against the sofa next to her sister, Y/N.

"Hugh is a sweet man, just give him a chance."

Y/N closed her book with a loud clap at her mother's last attempt and watched her leave the room.

"Anthony hasn't learned one bit after last year with Daphne! I don't even know the boy and he has already invited him over to- wipe that smug smile off your face, Y/N! You'll be next."

Y/N straightened her back and wiped a crease out of her dress, "I'm just smiling to myself, is that such a crime?"

Eloise made a face and crossed her arms, "Well, what about?"

"The Durrell boy..." Y/N shrugged and looked away noncomittally. "It's not a bad thing to invite him over."

Eloise scrunched up her nose in disgust. "Thought you'd have my back?!"

"No- listen, let him come over... he'll not want to come back after he's done with dinner." Y/N raised her eyebrows and a small smirk appeared on her face as she watched Eloise put two and two together.

"Good luck with that," Eloise let out a breathy chuckle. She admired how her sister never seemed worried or bothered by the world and if she did, Y/N would find fun ways to lighten the mood. She didn't even seem too worried about the fact her debut was close and whenever Eloise brought it up, she'd just shrug it away.

"Mama will have our heads."

Y/N Bridgerton rolled her eyes and leaned in closer. The two sisters were alone in the tearoom, but she needed to be sure no one was lurking through the hallways,

"Remember when Colin's bed was filled with ants and he got scolded because Mama thought he had left some sweets in his room that had attracted them?"

Eloise nodded at the childhood memory and motioned Y/N to go on.

"Do you really think they crawled into the bed by themselves?"

Eloise gasped playfully, "Oh, how unladylike of you, Miss Y/N." She teased.

"He broke my violin when he was mad at me, it was his own fault."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Y/N stood up and held out her hands for her sister to take, "You will never, you're one of my favourites. Now come on and let me help you, we have some planning to do."

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:·ﾟ .: ⋆*·ﾟ: .⋆

Violet Bridgerton hastily adjusted Eloise's dress before taking a quick glance at her children standing in line-- they all looked neatly dressed and had gentle smiles on their faces, just perfect. She smiled nervously and watched as Anthony welcomed the Durrell boy inside.

However, she got more nervous when Eloise curtsied and smiled as bright as she could. It didn't take a fool to know the girl was up to something, and every Bridgerton sibling tried to hide their laughter when Eloise spoke next-

"Oh, how wonderful to see you, Mr Durrell. I hope your carriage ride hasn't been too unpleasing?"

Y/N quirked a brow and let out a snort, only to be nudged in the waist by her mother. Even Hugh Durrell himself seemed taken back, for the previous times the two of them had talked, Eloise had always seemed uninterested or rude.

"No, not at all, my lady." He smiled bashfully and handed his hat and coat to the family's butler.

"I have looked forward to this night ever since my dear brother told me the news." She glared slightly at Anthony before the smile on her face reappeared, "Shall we get seated? Yes, we shall- follow me." She linked her arm with Hugh's and tried to walk to the dining room as elegantly as possible.

Violet held her forehead in frustration and worry before following her children through the hallway, trying to mentally get ready for whatever Eloise had in store for them. When Y/N sat down on the other side of Eloise, with a mischievous grin that matched her sister's, Violet knew enough.

"Y/N, darling, why don't you come sit next to me tonight?" Their mother tried to appease her with a warm smile, wanting to sabotage whatever plan the two girls had in mind, but her daughter's quick wit helped her out of the situation, "No, Mama, I promised Eloise I'd sit next to her- and we mustn't break promises, right?"

Violin forced a smile, her daughter had used her own words against her, "You're right, dear."

Y/N leaned sideways to whisper in Benedict's ear as the first course was put in front of them, "You took care of it?"

"Oh, I did." He smiled to himself as he started with his soup.

A while later, everyone would find out what surprise had been waiting for Hugh Durrell, as the second course was brought into the dining room. The plates were filled with bedding of lettuce as decoration while a piece of roasted fowl was resting on top of it with some vegetables to tuck it in. But Hugh had been too focused on his own plate to notice his was different than the rest. On top of his lettuce, laid a brown frog, one he wasn't so sure was really dead.

Mr Durrell hesitantly grabbed his utensils and tried to look for a good part to start with. Were they seriously eating frogs for dinner?! He grimaced but then remembered he was a guest and quickly looked up to send Anthony and Violet a smile. He noticed Eloise had rested her head against her palm, she was sitting sideways and waiting for him to take a bite with the most wicked grin on her face ever. She was beyond amused.

All of a sudden, the animal hopped off his plate and onto Violet's, which caused the latter to let out a scream. She had almost, almost, forgotten that she had to be on her toes.

Both Y/N and Eloise let out a loud laugh before remembering they had to keep up the act, even if it was only for Hugh's sake, since the rest of the table already knew who to blame.

Hugh was given another plate after a lot of apologies from Violet and the kitchen staff. How it had landed on the plate, no one knew. Perhaps they should've noticed Benedict leave the room for a split second before the second course was brought in.

Dessert wasn't any better, as Eloise purposely tried to eat her chocolate pudding as inelegantly as possible. Her whole face was coated in the pudding, and when she smiled a toothy smile as Hugh looked up, he had to clench his spoon to not make a face of disgust and disapproval. He all but ran out of the house by the end of the night and both Eloise and Violet knew that his thank you's had just been out of good manners. He would definitely not want to see Eloise again.

"Well, that was a delightful night, wasn't it?" Y/N grinned and turned to Anthony, sending a glare his way the moment he looked back. Anthony would have to think twice if he wanted to pull something like this during her debut next season.

"Up to your rooms, now!" Violet pointed a finger at her daughters, who gave each other a sneaky handshake behind their backs before running up the stairs.

"How was your frog, Mr Durrell?" They heard Eloise ask her sister from the floor above, in a ridiculous accent.

Y/N replied in a voice just as ridiculous, "Why I don't know, my lady, I was too busy thinking of your pretty pudding smile."

Their laughter echoed through the house before both their doors closed, and Violet couldn't help but crack a smile. Her girls were a handful, especially when it came to being in the society of the ton, but she loved them dearly. The day their laughter and silly pranks would leave the house, would be a sad day.

#bridgerton imagines #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton imagines #bridgerton!sibling #bridgerton!sister

[cheelduh]

How to Not Kill a Ginger (High School Au!)

Part 5 to the series hehehe

Parts: 1 2 3 4

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Synopsis: Childe’s stomach stirs when you take care of him, and he’s not sure if it’s because of his major crush on you or just plain old diarrhea.

Warnings: Swearing. Graphic descriptions involving the true idiocy of teenage boys.

Words: Abt 2.6k

Note: Sorry I sort of half assed this. I have big ideas for the next part tho ✨😮‍💨

If there's one thing you're sure of, it's that Teucer knows how to throw one hell of a tantrum.

Him and his brother, Anthon, under your watch, manage to get into a petty squabble that's been airing for the last fifteen minutes. You've done everything, from offering candy to promising an extra hour on the switch, but your efforts do not bear fruit.

What did you tell Childe again? Oh yeah, that babysitting kids was a breeze. Apparently it's not a breeze. Maybe something more like a shart. A chunky, messy one at that.

"Listen dude," You reason to Anthon, the oldest of the bunch gently. "Where did you hide his toy?"

Anthon sticks a tongue out at you, and you nearly cry at the intensity of the insult. "Not telling."

Your patience runs thin.

"C'mon Anthon," Tonia lectures from her chair on the table like the godsend she is. "Just give him his toy back. You're being so annoying." She's taking the words right out of your mouth.

"Not until he apologizes!" Anthon crosses his arms, huffing. "He ate my cheese string!"

"There are more cheese strings!" You exclaim, opening the fridge to prove your point. "I'm sure Teucer's sorry for taking yours. Just pick another one."

"But it's not the same! He took the last cheddar and mozzarella one, now there are only mozzarella ones left." He speaks in between Teucer's wails. You wonder if this is a daily occurrence.

Tonia sighs, gets up from her chair, and hands the eldest her cheese string. "Just take this and give him his toy back."

Almost immediately, Anthon reaches a hand behind the tv table and pulls out the miniature Mr. Cyclops, then throws it point blank at Teucer's feet.

Teucer wails louder.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, shoulders sagging under the stress of being a temporary teenage mother.

Then you take a deep breathe, voice booming over Teucer's cries, Anthon's grumbling, and the clicking of Tonia's tongue. "Let's make a cake!"

Everything in the room stills. Even Teucer's loud cries comes to a halt, and he inhales so sharply that the streak of snot over his lip goes right back into its origin.

You wince inadvertently.

"Poggers!" Anthon cheers, and his siblings join in, laughing and clapping in excitement.

Tonia's eyes widen in confusion when she briefly pauses from her rally. "Wait a minute. What are we celebrating? We can't bake a cake for no reason! It won't taste nearly as good."

Everyone stops to ponder.

Then you snap your fingers in realization, and the kids huddle around you. "How about a 'get well better' cake for your big brother?"

They erupt in cheers again, but you shush them gently, wink an eye for extra measure. "We have to be quiet! He won't get better if we wake him."

The three nod in understanding and begin shushing each other, failing to conceal their giggles.

As you watch them making their way into the kitchen, bounce in their steps, you can't stop the warm smile that reaches your eyes.

That smile soon becomes a frown of horror when Anthon cracks an egg over Tonia's head.

-

The cake is not half as bad as you thought it would be initially. Between mixing the ingredients and ceasing the kids minus Tonia from being menaces to society, you were able to find middle ground.

Eventually Anthon found interest in finding ways to lick the batter whenever you turned around, and Teucer found comfort in your left leg, latching onto it as if it were a life line.

Just like how Venti latches onto his stupid little bottle of wine disguised as a water bottle. Seriously, you’ve never talked to him sober, and at this point are afraid of what’s he’s like lucid.

Tonia had been the only one taking things seriously for the most part, except for the sprinkles-to-icing ratio. She drowned the entire cake in sprinkles, the mere sight adding on the ghost of an ache in your teeth.

It looks like twilight sparkles took a fat dump on it.

"Okay besties," You inwardly curse yourself for giving into Gen-Z vocabulary as you brush your hands on the apron. "I think we've done a pretty decent job."

"It looks so pretty!" Tonia grins widely, eyeing the edible pearls she strategically placed. She quickly strikes down a finger Anthon tried to poke into the icing, with the accuracy of a true warrior.

You shudder at the thought of Childe teaching her how to stab someone with safety scissors.

"Can we add candles?" Teucer asks, but Tonia clicks her tongue in distaste.

"It's not a birthday cake." She crosses her arms judgementally. The power in her glare reminds you of La Signora, strangely enough.

You ruffle his copper coloured locks anyways, and his grip on your thigh tightens. "We can add candles if you want Teucer."

He nods his head and snuggles deeper into the side of your leg. Your heart warms up considerably.

After the candles are poked in, you try to shrug him off. "C'mon dude, just for five minutes. You don't want me to drop the cake before your brother can get a bite do you?"

Reluctantly, he obliges, and runs off to help Tonia collect utensils to take up to Childe's room.

Anthon's on door duty, kicking away any toys that serve as obstacles in your way like a professional soccer player.

Once you four make it up the stairs in front of the designated room, Anthon doesn't bother knocking. He barges in like he owns the place, chin up high and a signature smirk on his face that he probably learnt from his older brother.

Childe fumbles awake, kicking the air whilst in shock by the chaotic sound of the door hitting the wall and Teucer screaming "Happy Birthday!" at the top of his miniature sized lungs as he runs in to plop right on top of his older brother.

His bewildered expression soon turns into something of a loving smile as he begins to process what is happening, eyes lighting up despite the deep bags that frame them.

Tonia places the plates on his side table, right next to the empty soup bowl you placed there earlier. She climbs up onto the bed as well to join in on the hug.

Anthon approaches at last, hands in his pockets as he coolly acknowledges his older brother. Instead of a bone-crushing hug like the other two are indulging in, his opts for a fist bump that Childe happily reciprocates.

Then finally, between the shield that are his siblings, his cerulean eyes land on your near the doorway, then trail down to the cake in your oven-mittened hands. He averts his gaze back to your own, and grins so wide his cheeks start to throb.

"Big brother! We made you cake." Teucer moves his head from his chest to face him. "So you can get better."

Childe's laughs ring in your ears, but you don't shy away from the sound. It's a pleasant, something that you wish to hear more of in the near future. Sure enough he laughs a lot at school, but the genuineness of it at home, surrounded by his siblings, stirs something deep within you.

"How thoughtful of you." He ruffles his hair, then his eyes widen as he ushers the two off of him. "You guys can't be near me! I don't want you to fall ill as well."

"But-but how will we feed you the cake without getting close to you?" Tonia frowns, and her two brothers nod in unison.

You chuckle lightly, approaching the bed with the cake in your hands. "I'm sure he has enough strength to feed himself. The hugs and kisses surely must've energized him."

To be honest, Childe's all green in the face and the last thing on his mind would be to indulge in the cake. You understand the feeling all to well. With his nose clogged up, throat all sore, there's no way he'll stomach it. It took a lot of nagging on your part to get him to finish the soup earlier as well.

He blows the candles anyways, clapping along his siblings and letting Tonia drop a fat chunk of the golden cake onto his plate. You find it endearing, regrettably so. His dedication to keeping their dreams is admirable in more ways than you can count.

This is the same guy that wears meme shirts to school, topped off with douchey sunglasses to give him a pristine vibe. The same guy that punches holes in walls like a Kyle. The very boy that flexes his toned biceps in-front of you during lunch time, successfully ruining your appetite.

"Wait a minute..." Childe inspects the cake closely, narrowing in on the candles. "Why is there an eleven?"

Teucer scratches his neck sheepishly. "Those were the only candles we had left."

After another short-lived laugh, Childe manages a bite as everyone stares in expectation, the sound of a tight crunch enveloping the room, making you grimace in secret. If Childe feels like puking out his guts right now, he's doing a hell of a job hiding it from his darling siblings.

You're glad nobody forces you to take a bite, or it would've been a double homicide right then and there.

Soon enough, one by one the children file out of the room, satisfied with their visit. The reality is that they don't want to miss an episode of backyardigans.

Once they leave, you approach him with a napkin. He gets the gist, spitting out the remnants of the cake you slaved over for about two hours.

"Colour me impressed." You snort, moving the cake aside so you can take a seat on the open space next to him. "How're you feeling?"

"Amazing." He exclaims, eyes red like a crackhead's, nose runny, with goosebumps kissing his pale skin. He sure does look...amazing.

"Cool." You say, abruptly getting up. "I'm gonna vibe with the kid—"

His hand shoots out from underneath the blanket, clammy palms wrapping around your wrist to keep you locked in place. You gulp in anticipation.

"You kissed me." Childe reminds you, eyes twinkling in mischief, a vicious grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

You try not to choke on your words. "You have circumstantial evidence at most." No attempts are utilized to pull away from him.

He raises a teasing brow, and you give in because the tension is thick. Thicker than the tension between Albedo and Kaeya when the latter shamelessly unzips his front to show more of his biddies. You have no idea why he hasn’t been dress coded yet.

"Fine." You snap out of your impure thoughts, and huff out, frustrated all over. "I kissed you on the cheek."

"Still a kiss though."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes. Also, cute nails." He points out, hand moving down to grasp your fingers. The act is intimate, his caress gentle and caring. Despite his brash, violent personality, he shows you a completely different side to him that hatches butterflies in your stomach.

"Thanks." You show off the bright jewels on your index. "You have a real nail technician in the house."

Tonia has some serious talent.

When he taps one of the jewels, you slap his hand away. "Careful there dude. These cost me a fortune."

His chuckles die down and he smiles again, but this time apologetically. "They didn't trouble you too much did they? I know they can be loud."

"I like loud." You answer him truthfully. "They're fun to be around. Not nearly as chaotic as you."

He blinks in mock offence, eyes narrowing shrewdly. "You come into my house, talk to my siblings, and have the nerve to insult me? Right after taking advantage of me?"

"If you don't shut up, I'll also have the nerve to rip you a new one." You reply dryly with the innocent curl of your lips.

"Bet."

You're about to lunge at him and scream a string of obscenities that no one has ever heard of before, but the Archons are listening and you don't want his siblings to grow up without someone to look up to. Wait a minute—scratch that. You'd be doing them a favour if you wiped his existence right here and now.

You have a fragile heart though. So you sigh, and grab a fistful of sheets in both hands instead.

Childe's grin turns into a petrified scowl.

"Oh no," He pleads, weakly fighting you back. "Have mercy! Please!"

You have loads of mercy. Just not enough for him.

When you have him wrapped in a successful bundle, Childe can’t help but beam, laying limp in his confines.

“What are you smiling about?” You inquire, pulling out the medicine from his box, pausing momentarily in shock. “Wait a minute, don’t tell me you’re into these things you freak.” Head snaps up so fast you nearly suffer from whiplash.

He’s about to answer you but his words turn into a fit of shallow coughs.

“I’m into whatever you’re into.” Childe’s shrug is nonchalant. “Even if that means I have to be tied up. Kinky by the way.” He winks, and you roll your eyes, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as you hold the spoon up. The dark reddish medicine swirls in deep hues.

“Shut up and open your mouth.”

“Girlie, I don’t think you understand how contradicting that statement is.”

You momentarily wonder if it’s too late to abort yourself.

—

Childe awakens at the crack ass of night, sweat slick, sticky all over, tousled hair sticking to his forehead. He’s a panting mess, eyes darting around the dark room, inhaling, exhaling, mind in a haze from the fever. Gaining somewhat of a grip on reality, he fumbles around to turn on his lamp, throat parched and in need of water.

When he manages to find the switch, he recoils at the brightness, adjusting to the sudden change in his vision. On his side table, there’s a bologna sandwich tucked safely in plastic wrap, a glass of room temperature water, and a bottle of painkillers.

His eyes disregard most of the things, finding interest in the bright pink sticky note next to the painkillers. Unable to ignore the dryness of his throat and the pounding of his head, he quickly gulps a pill down with most of the water, instantly feeling the relief of hydration.

Then, he pounces on the note, giddiness overtaking him despite the pang in his muscles, and the general feeling of absolute shit.

I had to leave. Don’t worry about your siblings, they’re all tucked in and fine. Except for Anthon maybe. Apparently he’s mildly lactose intolerant and thought it was a good idea to overdose on chocolate milk when I was busy with Teucer. Anyways, get better soon stupid.

— Y/N

He safely tucks the note under his pillow, edges of his lips turned upwards, warmth flooding his veins when he takes another look around his surroundings.

The room itself is cleaned, floor cleared from the initial clutter and the cool shiny collector’s knives he buys off of Amazon safely hung over the wall, not littered on his desk like they usually are.

The homework he was supposed do, but most likely wouldn’t, is already completed, stacked neatly atop each other.

Childe swears his heart bursts in his chest, exploding into tiny particles that overheat his entire body.

There’s no way in hell a few days worth of homework is gonna bring his failing mark up, but then again it’s the thought that counts.

While the sandwich is catered to his nausea, bland and plain for easy digestion, an easy fill, it’s the best meal he’s ever had in his life.

#genshin impact #genshin impact oneshot #childe #childe x reader #fanfic #genshin oneshot #genshin tartagalia #kaeya alberich #tartagila #venti genshin impact #albedo #teucer #genshin archon #tartagalia x reader #tartagalia genshin impact

[letsfluxshitup]

​Technoblade Learns How To Relax (now on ao3)

Tommy's face became more and more contemplative as he guided Quackity to the ravine dubbed Pogtopia. 

He led him down the winding stairs at a pace that had Quackity fumbling to keep up with. 

On the last step, Quackity stumbled, heading face first into the dirt before an arm caught him around the waist.

"I told you we needed the guard rails." A voice huffed from behind him.

Quackity thrashed violently, whipping around and ending up on the ground anyways, staring up at the Blade himself.

"Oh! Technoblade-- Mr. Blade, sir, I didn't see you there--" Quackity stuttered, scrambling to his feet. He slipped twice on the gravel before Tommy took pity on him and offered him a hand.

Quackity took it, allowing himself to be dragged up before slightly frantically brushing off his jacket. He scrubbed at the mounting flush on his face, refusing to be embarrassed, and waved away Tommy's concern.

Tommy broke the silence, abruptly clearing his throat.

"Right- anyways, I was just showing Big Q around. He’s with us now, you know." Tommy nodded self-assuredly, glancing between Quackity and Techno.

Techno just nodded, making a noise half agreement half dismissive.

"I'll be in the--" Techno started before Tommy interrupted him, fisting a hand in Techno's cape.

"He needs a room to stay in! We don't have enough, we're going to have to share. I was thinking he could stay with Wilbur but he's a little uh..." Tommy trailed off, scratched at his chin before gesturing vaguely. "You know?" 

"I know." Techno sighed, turning to face them. "He can stay with me."

"No that's-- that's not necessary, I can just-- I wouldn't want to inconvenience you--" Quackity started, praying the panic in his tone wasn't too noticeable.

Techno just gave him a leering smile, too much teeth and tusk to be considered anything other than threatening before Tommy smacked him.

"Quit messing with Big Q, he's an ally now, alright?" Tommy said, biting down on a laugh. 

Techno snorted before shoving him in retaliation for the smack and Quackity backed away quickly before he got dragged into the rough-housing.

Finally, Techno ended it, sitting on Tommy's back effectively pinning him to the ground. Tommy flailed wildly before whining out a childish 'uncle', and Techno released him. Tommy got one last jab in before sprinting off deeper into the ravine, laughter echoing off of the walls. 

Quackity wished he hadn't left, the stale air suffocating as Techno eyed him. 

"You like what you see?" Quackity blurted out, before slapping a hand over his mouth. "Sorry-- I didn't-- that was an accident I didn't mean to say that, sorry." 

Techno just raised an eyebrow at him, and Quackity just knew he was laughing at him, on the inside at least.

Techno gestured in front of him, a silent request to start walking.

Techno followed close behind, managing to avoid stepping on his heels but still unbearably close. His hand was resting loosely on his sword, did he really expect Quackity to attack him here? In his base, all by himself?

Before he could think more about Techno's paranoid tendencies, like the fact that Techno hadn't turned his back to him once, they stopped at a simple wooden door.

The wood was pockmarked with arrow holes, centering around a makeshift bullseye on the door. Above the bullseye was a crude drawing of Techno, Techno's name carved into the door above it.

"Tommy decorated." Techno deadpanned, gesturing vaguely at the door's decorations. 

Quackity just nodded mutely, following Techno into his room.

The difference between the rest of the ravine and Techno's room was jarring, to say the least.

The floors were meticulously clean, a broom propped up in the corner. 

Everything was shoved to one side, except for the sole bed that was lodged in the far corner, the perfect vantage point to see the door and every part of the room. 

There weren't any nooks or crannies to hide in, everything flush against the wall and on ground level, too short to hide behind.

Every corner of the room was lit up, no shadows to lurk in, no area left in the dark. 

Techno's bed was frameless, mattress box directly on the floor. He wanted to make a teasing remark about being scared of the monsters under your bed but he swallowed it, all the details clicking into place.

Maybe it wasn't monsters but considering everything else, Techno must have considered the space under his bed a security risk. Part of him wanted to poke fun at his paranoia but another part just felt... Sad. 

Did Techno relax? Ever? He couldn't imagine what it must be like, constantly keeping your guard up.

Even now Techno had positioned himself with clear access to the door, and with Quackity at hand’s reach. Well, more accurately, at sword's reach.

Quackity cleared his throat, trying to interrupt the uncomfortable silence they'd settled into. Techno had just quietly watched him look around, and Quackity desperately wished he knew what he was thinking about. His face was as blank and impassive as always.

Finally, Techno spoke.

"Do I need to feed you?" Techno was eyeing him up again, as if he'd be able to tell if he was hungry or not just from looking.

"Uh-- well, I'm a little hungry, but if it's too much trouble don't worry about it, I'll be fine!" Quackity squeaked when Techno abruptly moved forward, hands curling around his shoulders as he nudged him back into a sitting position on a chest.

One of Techno's hands moved from his shoulder to his jaw, forcing his head back slightly.

This was it, Quackity thought, This is where he rips my throat out.

Instead of ripping his throat out, Techno made direct eye contact with him, which was, in Quackity's humble opinion, objectively worse.

Techno broke eye contact first, mouth opening like he was going to say something before his eyes caught on a shallow cut at the base of Quackity's neck.

He'd gotten it on the way to Pogtopia, a skeleton getting a lucky shot on him from the shadows. Thankfully it had barely nicked him, and he hadn't bothered patching it up.

Techno leaned closer to it, forcing Quackity's head farther back, his other hand moving to lightly thumb at it.

Quackity's heart kicked into overdrive, because hey, what the fuck, Technoblade had his sharp ass teeth inches away from his jugular, but he didn't move. 

After another uncomfortably long pause Quackity finally mustered up the courage to speak.

"Am I dying, Doc?" He blurted, twisting his head to try and see Techno's expression.

"Huh? Oh, no. You have a heart shaped mole on your neck." Techno huffed a laugh, warm breath ghosting across his neck and Quackity hadn't realized before how fucking cold it was in the ravine.

Techno moved away after that, and Quackity could breathe easier now that he was less worried about dying. 

Techno still hovered close, though, nearly nose to nose and without thinking Quackity spoke.

"Are we going to kiss?" He mentally slapped himself afterward, but Techno let out a loud snorting laugh as he moved away more. Quackity was slightly proud he'd gotten a genuine laugh from the man but was still absolutely mortified.

As Techno moved away from him to dig in a chest, Quackity mourned the loss of Techno's warmth. He wondered if it had something to do with being half piglin, or if he always naturally ran hot.

Irrationally, Quackity worried that he had a fever, before squashing that down because the piglin theory made a lot more sense than the Great Technoblade catching a cold.

Techno moved around the room quickly, plucking two bowls out of a chest and giving him a look that silently screamed stay there, before he left the room.

He was back minutes later, and he handed Quackity one of the bowls of soup.

Techno plopped on to the floor and without thinking Quackity slipped down to join him. Techno side eyed him, but rested his back against a chest and started eating.

Quackity ate quickly, the food burning his tongue, and if you asked him he'd have no idea what was in it. When he was finished he carefully placed the bowl next to him, and Techno eyed him expectantly.

"More?" Was all he said, and when Quackity shook his head, a muttered no thanks following, Techno shoved bread at him anyways.

"You don't have to eat it now, but it should stay good for a bit. If you want to keep it on you." Techno went back to his soup, expression once again impassive.

Quackity scooped the bread up, tucking it away into one of his bags. He wondered what made Techno give him extra, if worrying about where your next meal would come from was as inherent to him as it was to himself. 

--

Techno lay on his back, eyes closed and breathing even. He doubted Quackity would be able to tell if he was actually awake or not, but he also didn’t have a very good read on Quackity. It was the main reason he’d offered up his room to him, he wasn’t sure what Quackity was capable of so the closer to him the better. 

He didn't know if Quackity could hold his own in a fight, and what if they were invaded in the night? He’d rather be there to protect their weakest link than leave it to the hands of Wilbur or, God forbid, Tommy. Tommy was an adept fighter, sure, but he still hadn’t quite grasped defense over offense, something that would leave Quackity vulnerable.

On the flipside, what if Quackity was a spy? It’d be a lot more difficult to snoop around if Techno was there to watch over him. He was a light sleeper, and his door creaked louder than the others, something he’d never bothered to fix considering it alerted him whenever anyone entered or left. 

Quackity also wasn’t known for being particularly quiet, either. Techno was sure that if anything happened when he was asleep, Quackity’s loud panicking would wake him up instantly.

Speaking of his inability to be quiet, Techno listened to him roll over and shift again, his uncomfortable shuffling capturing Techno’s attention in the relative silence of the room. Techno tilted his head, looking at Quackity. He was curled up on the floor, on a thin mat that Tommy had produced from God knows where. He had the blanket stuffed around himself, shivering slightly. Techno hadn’t realized it had been that cold, his back was pressed against the wall behind him that was unnaturally warm due to the lava pool on the other side of it. 

“Quackity?” Techno said into the quiet of the room, voice hushed.

“Uh, yeah? What’s up?” Quackity’s voice was high pitched, a nervous titter to it. “Was I bothering you? I can leave--”

He’d moved to a sitting position as he spoke, his shoulders tense and looking ready to bolt. 

Techno sighed. Quackity being afraid of him was fun, but also very inconvenient. He gestured at Quackity, beckoning him closer.

Quackity shakily got to his feet, muttering under his breath, this is it, this is the end, this is where he kills me, curse my poor circulation, why do I get cold so easily. 

Quackity stopped next to the bed, and Techno lifted up the blanket with one hand and patted the bed next to him with the other. 

He stared blankly back at him, looking between the spot next to him and his face, expression quizzical. 

“Sleep with me,” Techno huffed, impatient.

“Woah, woah, woah, you seem like a really nice guy but c'mon isn’t this a bit--” Quackity stuttered, looking genuinely surprised and vaguely amused.

At least he doesn’t look afraid, Techno thought absently.

“Not like that. If you’re cold we can share, the bed’s big enough for the both of us.”

Quackity studied him again, rocking back and forth on his heels before letting out a sigh and shrug in the personification of fuck it, and slipping into the bed next to Technoblade.

Techno studied Quackity, frowning before scooting closer.

“Climb over me, the wall gives off heat. You’ll be warmer over there.” 

After a bit of fumbling and a push from Techno that was more of a drag, Quackity ended up on his other side. 

Techno squinted at him again, before dragging Quackity back into his chest. Quackity huffed, offended that Techno could manhandle him so easily. He wasn’t tiny, it was unfair how strong Techno was.  

Techno’s arms wrapped loosely around him, he hooked his head over his shoulder.

“Aw, I didn’t take you as the cuddling type,” Quackity teased, pressing his cold feet against whatever part of Techno they could reach.

Techno huffed again, and Quackity wondered how many emotions he could express with just a huff. 

“It’s not cuddling.” Techno readjusted his arms, absently rubbing warmth back into Quackity’s cold fingers, “It’s a tactical advantage.”

“Oh? Well, sorry to say, buddy, but your tactical advantage is crushing my wings.”

“Wings?” Techno echoed, abruptly pulling away. Quackity’s face scrunched in displeasure at the rush of cold air that met his back as Techno sat up to look down at him.

Quackity sat up too, unzipping his jacket. Techno eyed him warily for a second, before impatiently tugging at his jacket, trying to lean around him to get a look. A wing hit him in the face then, fluttering slightly before folding back against Quackity’s back. Quackity squeaked, looking terrified but desperately trying to hold back laughter.

“You need to groom your wings,” Techno finally said, after Quackity’s laughter faded.

“Hey, hey, you don’t just comment on a man’s wings!” Quackity’s voice pitched upwards, defensive as he crossed his arms and his wings puffed up slightly, only accentuating the issue. They were small, smaller than Philza’s certainly, and Techno doubted that Quackity could actually get any air time from them. 

They were kind of cute though, Techno thought. Objectively, of course.

“What if I spoon you--” Quackity started, only to be cut off by a petulant Technoblade.

“It wasn’t spooning. It was tactical. If someone came in here and saw me, they’d likely leave you alone. I doubt you made any friends when you defected from Manberg, and you’re kind of an easy target.” As if to accentuate his point he gestured vaguely at, well, all of Quackity, and Quackity’s wings puffed out again, expressive now that they weren’t trapped under a jacket.

“I resent that,” Quackity said in response, sticking his tongue out at him. 

“Alrighty, if you want a tactical advantage what if we hit 'em with one of these--” Quackity abruptly flopped across Techno, throwing an arm across his chest. Without thinking Techno’s arm came up, catching him across the throat and shoving him backwards against the wall.

“Sorry-- I didn’t mean that, sorry.” Techno pulled away quickly, straightening Quackity’s shirt and fixing his hair, hands dancing nervously across his chest.

“It’s alright,” Quackity rasped. “You’re a bit jumpy, that’s fine, we can work with that.”

Quackity waved away Techno’s mother henning, before slowly lowering himself against Techno’s side. 

“This alright?” He murmured, moving so he was laying across Techno’s chest, head on his collarbone. 

Techno curled an arm around Quackity’s waist in lieu of a response, careful to avoid his wings.

Quackity opened his mouth to comment on it, but Techno beat him to the punch.

“This isn’t cuddling. It’s a tactical advantage. Now you can’t sneak away without me knowing, how do we know that you aren’t a spy? I don’t know if I can trust you, yet.”

“You don’t trust me, buddy? We’re literally snuggling in your bed.” Quackity snorted.

“It’s not snuggling, it's a--”

“Tactical advantage, right, I know.” 

“Anyways, I know I could take you in a fight. You aren’t a threat to me.” Techno continued, as if Quackity hadn’t said anything. 

“You don’t know that--” Quackity started before Techno moved to make eye contact with him, a single eyebrow raised. “Ok, you’re probably right, but I think I could get, like, one lucky shot in, you know?”

“Sure,” Techno said dismissively, patting Quackity’s hip placatingly. His hand moved to rubbing up and down Quackity’s back and Quackity realized how tired he was. It’d been a long day, with a lot of running and the fighting with Schlatt took a lot out of him. 

Schlatt.

He was sure the man had already forgotten about him, labelled him a traitor and a coward, but Quackity couldn’t stop thinking. He tried to focus on Techno’s steady breathing, to ignore the rising memories from his earlier fight, but it was too much. He finally felt like he could think again, wasn’t panicking or in survival mode. Had he done the right thing? Had he made the right choice? 

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sharp tug to one of his feathers.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Techno murmured, smoothing the ruffled feathers back into place. “I’ll protect you from whatever’s got you all flustered, just go to sleep.”

Quackity huffed, but buried his face into Techno’s neck anyways, curling their legs together.

“Fine. Didn’t realize Grandpa had such an early bedtime,” Quackity mocked, earning him another warning tug on his feathers. He smothered his snort against Techno, before sighing out a quiet good night.

Techno just hummed, eyelids growing heavy, surprised that he was comfortable enough to sleep.

#technoblade #quackity #dream smp spoilers #just in case laskdjflksdjf #my writing #i have a lot of thoughts ok #many thoughts head full might make a seperate post talkin about all the headcanons here alkdsfjkldsfj <3 #lemme know if you liked this bc im ridiculously nervous abt posting this and im not really sure why aslkdjflskdjfdfskl #platonic intimacy is important to me so whenever i write it into smth my hearts like '!!!' because i dont want people to be shitty #pushing my political agenda of making everyone understand the importance of platonic intimacy and cuddling #this is ok to reblog btw #ALSO QUACKITY HAS LITTOL WINGS BC I L O V E THAT #quacknobros

[mysweetestcreature]

Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies

Words: 24.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death...smut?

Summary: Why can’t two people who are meant for each other get it right?

***

They’re fighting again. All Y/n can do is shut her eyes in the hopes that when she opens them, everything will be okay. But no amount of wishing can drown out the noise. 

“I can’t keep pretending like everything is fine! It’s not. You know it isn’t, Matt,” she hears her mother erupt between sobs. Lately, it’s been the same angry words shouted at one another over and over again. Y/n takes her baby sister, Ava, in her eight-year-old arms. She hugs the baby close. If she can’t block the screaming out, at least she can protect her sister from it.

“Grace, please.” It’s her dad’s voice. She’s never heard him sound so desperate. “What about our family? The girls need you. I need you! You can’t just walk away from us.” 

There’s a sudden silence that follows. At first, Y/n thinks that maybe her parents have reached a resolution. Her dad has always been good at negotiating. It is his job, after all. She’s seen him in action whenever he brings her to work with him. Maybe he’s managed to work that same magic on her mum. She gently lays Ava down on the bed, creating a makeshift barrier of pillows on either side of her, before exiting the room and running down the stairs. 

Before she can reach the bottom, she’s forced to a halt when she sees her daddy slouched over on the last step. His head is buried in his hands, his shoulders are shaking. He’s crying. That’s a sight she’s never seen before. He’d always been the picture of bravery and strength, but now that’s been washed away and replaced with someone who looks broken beyond repair. She doesn’t recognize him.

Where is her mum? She slips past her dad, despite wanting to throw herself in his arms for comfort. Besides his sniffling, the house is quiet. There’s no trace of her mum. It scares her.

“Where’s Mummy?” she asks meekly, turning to her father.

He doesn’t respond, but instead, he brings his hands out of his hair, and stares painfully at the door. Without thinking, she throws it open, the sun’s light momentarily blinding her for a few unhinged seconds. It’s only the screeching of wheels on road that brings her back.

“Mummy!” she cries, running as fast as her short legs can take her. Her eyes begin to swell with tears. The black taxi is still, and she’s just able to stare at her mum through its window. “Mummy, where are you going?” she pleads as she bangs on the door, but her mother doesn’t even flinch. Why won’t she look at me? 

The engine starts up, and the car begins to drive away. Y/n chases after it, crying out for her mum to come back. “Don’t go! Please don’t leave me!” It picks up speed after it turns the corner. She feels herself slowing down, but even then, she refuses to stop. The distance between herself and the car becomes too massive.  

“Mummy, come back!” 

Arms envelop around her, and now she’s running on air. “Let her go,” her dad tells her, and she can feel his own tears against her neck. Her feet stop kicking, it’s like the energy has completely drained from her body. Her mind, however, is still racing. 

***

A few days later, her daddy packs both hers and Ava’s bags, and loads them all into his car. She doesn’t ask questions, and instead busies herself with the fleeting landscape. A part of her had expected all that’s happened to be a part of some elaborate nightmare. But each morning, she wakes up to her parents’ bed left untouched, and her dad asleep on the living room couch. Ava is asleep beside her, and Y/n can’t help but think how lucky her little sister is to be living in ignorance. At three months old, she’s only just learned to hold her head up. Barely. Y/n doesn’t remember anything from that age, and maybe that’s a good thing. Had her parents always been this hostile towards one another? Had her mother done this before? What if she had? Does that mean she’ll eventually come back?

“We’re going to be staying with your grandparents for a while,” she’s taken out of her thoughts when her dad finally speaks up.

“Why?” She catches his eyes in the rearview mirror. They only ever go up to Nan and Gramps’ house during the holidays.

His fingers thump against the steering wheel, and he breathes in deeply as though to say something. It takes a moment before he answers her. “I just...I can’t do this alone.” His voice breaks, even though he tries to pass it off with a cough. “It’ll be good for us,” he says again. “You’ll see.”

When they hit a red light, he turns to look at her. He smiles weakly. No matter how much she wants to believe him, she still yearns for her mummy. It’s become especially hard in the mornings when her hair is knotted from tossing and turning in her sleep, and her dad can’t manage to tame it for the life of him. Her mum would often braid her hair, and like magic, it would remain intact all day. She always loved how gentle and soothing her mum would be as she brushed each strand with such care. That’s not to say that her dad isn’t trying, of course, but it’s just not the same.

***

Her grandparents live in a little town called Holmes Chapel. It’s pretty, she supposes. The buildings are a lot older, and the streets aren’t as busy as they are back home. She sits back and takes a deep breath. Her tummy flips a little when she thinks about how she might never see her old friends again, or her room, or even Mrs. Watson who lives next door (she would babysit Y/n and Ava whenever her mum had to run some errands). 

When she looks out the window again, she sees Nan and Gramps stood on their front porch, smiles reaching their eyes. 

“Where are my babies!” Nan exclaims, her arms stretched out. Her dad says a quick hello before opening up the back door. Y/n hops out, and her legs feel a bit unsteady from having been cramped in the car for all those hours. 

“Hi, Nana,” she greets sadly. Nan’s smile falters slightly, but she doesn’t seem to let it deter her.

The elderly woman bends down to her height and gathers her in her arms. Over Nan’s shoulder, Y/n watches as her dad whispers something in Gramps’ ear. Although she can’t hear it, she can tell by Gramps’ reaction that it can’t have been good. “A bit peaky?” Nan asks, when she finally pulls away. She cups Y/n’s cheeks and presses a kiss to her forehead. “I just took the cookies out of the oven, actually. Let’s go check on them before your grandfather gobbles them up.” 

Gramps groans behind them. “It was one time!” 

Nan waves him off, guiding her through the front door with an encouraging push. “Oh, you won’t believe all the colors I bought for you at the crafts store yesterday! I know how much you love to draw,” she says. Her voice drowns out when she hears something fall outside. “Arthur Y/l/n! If you break another one of my pots, I swear to–” It leaves Y/n to wander through the hall on her own. Her grandparents’ house is quaint and orderly and smells vaguely of warm vanilla (probably from the cookies) and jasmine. The walls are covered in framed photographs of her daddy and his older brother through the years, a few of a much younger Nan and Gramps, and finally of Y/n, Ava and all of her cousins. (They live in Nice––her Uncle Brandon married a French woman named Dominique––and only ever seem to come around for Nan and Gramps’ anniversary.) Finally, below her uncle and aunt’s wedding photo, is her parents’. She tries not to stare at it too long.

***

Y/n decides that maybe spending time with her grandparents won’t be so bad. After all, her and Ava don’t have to share a room anymore, which means that she won’t be woken up by her little sister’s 3 am wailing fits. Nan’s done an impressive job decorating on such short notice, too. The walls are still plain white, but at least there are some pretty stickers of butterflies and flowers and a few of Y/n’s favorite cartoon characters. Even the windows are nicely covered with those gel ornaments that she loves to poke. 

It’s all very nice, but she still wonders about when she’ll be able to sleep in her own bed, in her own house, under her own sheets.

“When are we going home?” she asks her dad as he tucks her in for the night. His hands stop in the middle of smoothening out her blanket, his eyes remaining glued to one of its printed ballerinas. 

“To be honest with you, love,” he sighs, “I don’t know if we’ll ever go back...at least not anytime soon.” 

“Oh.” That’s not the answer she wanted to hear. What if her mum does decide to come back? It’s still possible, right? After all, her mummy had always told her how much she loved her. She would scoop Y/n into her arms and twirl her around the room as they both laughed their hearts out. When she was sick, she’d always have her favorite tomato soup and grilled cheese. Every day after school, she’d sit down with her and help her do her homework and then give her an extra cookie if she didn’t complain. 

Then another thought pops into her head. Her mum hadn’t been able to do any of that stuff recently. It had been like living with someone who looked exactly like her mum, but without all the warmth and tenderness that once was. Y/n turns away from her dad and starts to sob silently into her pillow. 

Maybe she isn’t coming back, after all.

The dip in the bed from where her daddy had been finally reinflates. He’s about to wrap his hand around the door before she stops him. She calls out his name, sitting up with her arms around her knees. 

“We’ll be happier here?” 

His shoulders visibly relax, and for the first time in what feels like so long, he offers a sincere smile and nods affirmatively. She hadn’t realized how much she missed his smile until now. There’s something about it that she can’t quite describe, but she feels the safest she’s felt in a while.

***

Her daddy had left for the airport some hours ago. Gramps had offered to bring her along for the ride the night before, but she decided that she would rather not watch him leave. Instead, she pretended to be asleep when he came into her room and kissed her on the forehead. She knows he’ll be back in a few days, but it’s always tough when he has to go. It’s one of the other reasons they needed to move in with her grandparents, her dad has to travel a lot for work.  

As soon as he and Gramps had loaded the car and driven away, she had stepped outside and sat down on the grass. That had been before the sun had totally risen. Now, it’s up high and shining its rays on top of her head. Nan, who had been surprised to see her granddaughter sitting out on the lawn so early in the morning, had asked her if she wanted breakfast, but was told she wasn’t hungry. 

They’ve only been living here for a little over a week. She thought that they would’ve had more time to adjust before her dad had to fly off to wherever it is they’ve sent him. So far, things have been fine...or at least they’ve been as best as they can be. She tries not to think about her mum too much (she’s down to only once or twice a day). It’s a good thing that Nan and Gramps have a million ways to keep her busy.

Today is different, however. She’d had her daddy with her when she felt homesick. Now, she feels alone. 

“Hi,” her head snaps up, and there’s a boy, maybe around her age, standing above her. He has messy brown hair that curls at the ends, his pleasant smile is complete with dimples on either cheek. It’s his eyes, however, that hold her attention. They’re like spearmint, if spearmint is even considered a color. Or maybe they’re the same shade as the stems of her Nan’s petunias. She can’t quite describe it, but she can tell that she likes them. 

“Hi.” 

The boy takes her response as an invitation to sit down beside her. “I’m Harry. Do you want a Freddo?” He pulls out a chocolate frog from his pocket. “My sister always eats chocolate when she’s upset, and she’s a girl, and you’re a girl, and you looked kind of sad, so...” He gives her a lopsided grin.

“I’m not supposed to take candy from strangers,” she says. 

He––Harry––rolls his eyes. “I just told you, my name’s Harry.” He shifts a bit, then points to the house on the left of hers. “That’s my house there.”

“What if I don’t want to believe you?” she challenges, but she’s failing miserably not to grin at how utterly exasperated he’s getting.

With a defeated sigh, Harry shouts towards the house. “Oi, Gem!” It takes only a few seconds for a head to peak out of an upstairs window. 

An older girl, maybe around thirteen looks like she could throttle him. “I’m on the phone, Harry! Bugger off or I swear I’ll––oh, no, no! Not you, Blake.” She disappears back into her room. 

Y/n can’t help but giggle, and Harry turns to her, a triumphant look on his face. “See. Told you.” 

Once again, he offers her the Freddo, but this time, she happily accepts it. They sit in a comfortable silence as she nibbles on the chocolate. 

“I’m Y/n,” she finally tells him. 

Harry studies her carefully. “Are Mr. and Mrs. Y/l/n your grandparents? Because I’ve been over there loads of times––she babysits me when my mum and Gem are busy––but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

She nods. “Me, my sister and my dad moved in last week.”

“And your mum?” he tilts his head.

Her teeth bite down on the inside of her cheek. She looks at him wearily before staring down into her lap. “It’s just us.”

“Oh,” is all he replies. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “My parents are separated too. My dad lives in the city, but I still see him most weekends.”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever see my mum again,” she frowns.

What he does next startles her, but she’s more surprised at how quickly she relaxes. He wraps an arm around her and brings her closer so she can lean on her shoulder. “Mum says hugs help a lot,” he says sheepishly, she can feel his eyes on her. She nods against him, and it encourages him to continue. “I’m sorry you can’t see your mum, but hey, you can always talk to me! I’ll be your friend.”

It’s her turn to look up. “You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Y/n decides that she really likes living with her grandparents. Her and Harry are practically inseparable, spending the better part of the day together (and sometimes during the night when they have sleepovers). This means that she hasn’t cried in a long time, and she’s heard her daddy tell her grandparents that things are finally starting to look up. Her daddy looks better than he has been in ages, he doesn’t have that faraway look in his eyes anymore. 

Harry usually comes over after breakfast, or even earlier when he knows Nan will be making French toast just the way he likes it. They play the entire day, a variety of games that range from hopscotch to pretend, to sneaking into Gemma’s room to dig into her stash of sugary treats because the girl has enough Freddo frogs to last her until next Christmas. He even likes to draw with her, even though she knows he rather be outside running around. 

Sometimes Gramps will drive them into town, and they’ll go to the park or the ice cream parlor or their favorite Chinese restaurant. (She learns that she prefers shrimp over pork fried rice). There’s also a bakery that she thinks is the cutest place she’s ever seen. They serve all sorts of pastries and desserts that the owner, Martha, gives them for free when the rest of the customers aren’t looking. Y/n thinks that’s all to do with Harry. She’s eight, and she can already see how charming her best friend is. She’s glad that she has him by her side. He’s made her time here better than she could have ever imagined.

But soon enough, September comes along, and with it, school. Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous. While she and Harry will be attending the same school, he’s a year older, which means she might not see him nearly as much as she’d like. 

“It’ll be fun! You’ll see,” he tells her as they walk to school. “And we have breaktime, too. I can introduce you to all my friends, and you can introduce me to all of your new ones!” He sounds far too excited. 

Y/n pulls on his sleeve, and he clumsily stumbles back a bit. “But Harry,” she whines, digging the toe of her shoe into the sidewalk. “What if I don’t make any friends?” 

“You?” he gasps. “You’re like the most awesome person I know! Just be yourself.”

She doesn’t say a word, instead, she drops her head to look anxiously 

“Come on.” He takes her hand in his. “I’ll be at the end of the hall if you need me.” And they walk the rest of the way hand in hand. 

***

Harry drops her off at her classroom before going to find his. He promised he’d walk down with her for lunch, so at least she has that much to look forward to. When he disappears down the hall, she finally lets herself turn around to examine the place she’ll be spending the rest of the year in. 

The desks are all perfectly aligned, with names of her classmates in bold and colorful writing on cards at the very front. She quickly looks for her name and takes a seat. On the board, her teacher’s name is artfully written in the center. Miss Ferguson. She must have been the one who had greeted Y/n at the door a few minutes earlier. 

Y/n’s curiosity gets the best of her, and she starts committing every feature of the room to memory. The pictures of letters and corresponding objects and animals along the top of the blackboard are just like the ones from her old school. From her seat, she can see the playground, and she fantasizes about all the time she and Harry had spent on the monkey bars and hidden in the tube slide. 

“Do you want to trade notebooks?” Y/n turns in her seat in the direction of the voice. Behind her is a girl with blonde pigtails and an adorable gap between her two front teeth. “My mum always forgets that I don’t like purple.”

Y/n stares down at her own notebook, which is pink with white polka dots. “I like purple.” 

The girl grins widely. “Yay! You’re nice, I like you. I’m Penelope,” but as soon as she says it, her nose scrunches up in disgust. “But I hate being called that. So, just call me P or Penny!” Y/n gives a brief introduction, and the two girls trade notebooks. 

“You’re new, right?” Penny asks.

“Yup,” Y/n confirms, fishing her pencil case out of her backpack. “I moved here at the beginning of the summer.”

“Really? I’ve never lived anywhere besides here before, but when I’m older I want to live in London!” 

“That’s where I’m from,” Y/n says sheepishly. She hasn’t thought much about it, but when she does, she still misses it a fair amount. 

Penny’s hands go to her cheeks as she gapes in astonishment. “That’s so cool! What’s it like? Have you ever met the Queen?”

Y/n giggles. “I don’t even know where the Queen lives!” 

“Ugh, I’ve got so many things to teach you, then.” She and Penny make plans to hang out during breaktime and lunch.

Maybe Harry was right after all.

***

When the bell rings for lunch, Miss Ferguson’s class files out of the room in a somewhat straight-file line. Y/n walks behind Penny, her new friend is explaining all the proper ways to curtsy in front of a prince when a hand reaches out and tugs on the back of Y/n’s collar. 

She spins around, ready to thwack the whomever it might be. “I leave you for a few hours and you’ve already forgotten about me?” Harry smirks. 

“You just surprised me, that’s all,” she says. She’s fallen to the back of the line now. Penny stays back too and walks over to the two of them. “Harry, this is Penny! She’s in the same class.” 

Penny’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and her cheeks flush a shade of pink. “Hi-hi,” she stutters. Y/n stares at her for a moment, unsure where this sense of shyness has suddenly come from. She shakes her head, it’s probably just a draft from an open window. 

“Hi, Penny,” Harry returns kindly. He then turns back to Y/n. “Let’s go down to the cafeteria. I’m starving!” 

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Penny says, sounding much more like herself. Y/n walks in between them, feeling content. 

***

By the time she’s fifteen, Y/n has all she can ever ask for. Her dad doesn’t travel as much anymore, except for trips to the London office once a month, he’s able to work from Manchester. Ava’s seven now, and therefore able to cause all sorts of mischief. In fact, just last night, she’d eaten the entire leftover cake in the fridge when the rest of the family had gone to bed. She claims it was a ghost, but the frosting smeared across her face told everyone otherwise.

Penny’s practically moved in with them. Things at home aren’t always the best for her. Her mum usually spends the days drinking, the nights clubbing, and the early hours of the morning in some stranger’s bed. As for her dad, Penny doesn’t bring him up much. He decided to reconcile with his wife when Penny was three years old, leaving her and her mother penniless and alone. And well, she hasn’t spoken to him since. 

Finally, there’s Harry. He’s still her funny, sweet, and incredibly cute best friend. He’s sixteen now, far more mature than her. While they still spend loads of time together, he has his friends, and she has hers. Although, he does still come around for breakfast on the weekends––Nan’s French toast is still his most favorite thing on the planet––and they usually spend the rest of the time catching up on homework and watching movies they’ve already seen a million times. She loves how she’s never bored when she’s around him. They could be laying on the grass outside her house (much like they usually do) for hours, talking about nothing and everything, and still never run out of things to talk about. 

Except in the last few months. The thing is, Harry’s got himself a girlfriend, Lia, and she doesn’t like Y/n. There’s no logical explanation as to why, but whenever Y/n tries to talk to Harry at school, Lia slips her arms around him, like she’s claiming what’s hers, and glares at her until she has no choice but to retreat. She doesn’t have the heart to tell Harry that his first serious girlfriend is a total bitch, no matter how much she wants to. 

It’s a Friday night, Penny is staying over. She’s lazily flipping through last month’s edition of Vogue on Y/n’s desk. 

“Have you ever been in love?” she asks. 

“We’re fifteen. It’s not like there’s been much opportunity,” Y/n chuckles. She glances up momentarily from her sketchbook. If there’s a punchline, it never comes. She then gives her a look. “Why, have you?”

Penny shrugs. “Sometimes I think I am, but it doesn’t really matter. He’d never see me like that.” 

Y/n doesn’t respond to this. She’s heard stories about the boy Penny’s apparently fancied for ages now, but for some reason her friend refuses to give her a name. If she had to guess, it’s probably Bobby Baker from her French class. They dated for a few months when they were fourteen, but things had ended abruptly. Sometimes she’ll see them talking between classes and while in line for lunch. Her money’s definitely on Bobby.

Not wanting to press her for details, however, Y/n changes the topic. “Harry’s probably in love with Lia. I saw them snogging at the bust stop this morning.”

Penny groans. “They’re so gross!” she pretends to gag. “Oh, Harry. You’re so handsome! Kiss me before our lips dry out! Oh, Lia, you’re so pretty. Take this flower as a sign of my undying affections!” She imitates them, doing it so flawlessly. 

They share a look, and suddenly, they’re balled over in fits of laughter.

“How do they even breathe?” Y/n wheezes into her pillow. It’s not to say that she hasn’t kissed a boy before. It’s just never been as intense––or as nauseating––as that. Besides, none of her boyfriends have last long enough. Harry says that it’s all for the best, according to him, none of them are good enough for her. 

“They’re twos, you’re a total ten,” he had said to her once. She pretended not to feel her heart leap at the compliment. “A ten can’t go any lower than maybe a seven.” She wanted to say that she thought he was a ten, too, but was too embarrassed to say it.

***

Penny leaves early the next morning, but first helping herself to some of the food Nan had just prepared before zipping out the door. She leaves Y/n half asleep and barely functional.

“So, what’s the gossip?” Nan teases her, pouring her a cup of tea. 

“Same old, same old,” she yawns. She breathes in the steam from her mug and smiles. 

Nan places a plate of French toast in front of her. “Talking about the same old things until three in the morning? If only your grandfather and I could stay up that late. Of course, we’d be doing other things that decidedly aren’t–” she pauses, and Y/n’s never been more thankful. They both turn towards the back door. “Ah, and I was just beginning to worry.” 

Harry mutters a sleepy good morning, then stumbles into the seat beside Y/n. He looks at her breakfast, then looks at her. As if they can communicate silently, Y/n pushes her plate towards him. 

“Harry, dear,” Nan starts, making up a new plate for her granddaughter. “How does your mum feel about you spending so much time here?” 

“She’s fine with it,” he says, mouth full of bread. “As long as I bring her back some food, she says I can spend as much time here as I want.” 

Nan just rolls her eyes. “Will that be banana or blueberry then?”

“Hmm...” Harry pretends to mull over the options, but Nan knows better. Y/n watches with amusement as she places both bananas and blueberries on top of the French toast, then places it on a disposable plate and wraps it with tinfoil. 

She turns to them. “I’m just going to pop next door and give this to Anne.” Just before she can slide the door open, she calls one last remark over her shoulder. “Try not to burn the house down. We just had the floors waxed.” 

Y/n continues to sip on her tea, and Harry hums happily around another delectable bite. They sit in comfortable silence. 

“I feel like we haven’t talked in a while,” he says. He looks at her curiously. “Why is that?”

She has to bite her lip in order to stop herself from saying something she’ll regret. “Well, you know. I’ve been really busy lately.” From the corner of her eye, she can see how one of his brows shoot straight up.

“Busy with?”

“You know there’s an art show happening soon. I’ve been spending all my time in the art room.” She knows she isn’t convincing anyone, let alone him. He can read her like a book.

But if Harry is thinking she’s lying, then he doesn’t say anything. “Right,” he says aloofly. Taking another bite of his––her––breakfast, he continues. “Lia’s going to have a few pieces on display.”

This catches her off guard. “Lia’s into art? Since when?” 

He gives her a noncommitted grunt. “It’s news to me too.” He takes her mug from her hands and takes a sip. “But she seemed really interested when I mentioned you were participating.”

“Huh.” She rests her chin on her fist. That’s strange. She’s never seen Lia Hall set foot anywhere near the art room. Lia’s a cheerleader and spends most of her time cheering on the school’s football team, which is how she and Harry got together. Y/n would know if they shared any common interests. At least that way, she could talk to Harry without her grumbling bloody murder under her breath. 

“What is it?” his question pulls her out of thought. She plasters a smile on her face and says it’s nothing. 

***

Her bedroom window is right across from his, and they’ve been using it to their advantage since they were kids. When they both had bedtimes that were too early to ever enjoy the night, they would look out their window and find the other looking right back. They’d spend the night trying to make the other laugh with funny faces and their own little game of charades. 

But as Y/n looks up from her half-finished essay and through the glass, she doesn’t need elaborate hand motions to know that Harry is pissed. She wonders if he realizes where he’s standing or maybe he just doesn’t care right now. He looks like he’s trying to stay calm, but Y/n knows him better than that. While he isn’t one to yell, his voice does get tight when he’s trying hard not to. 

He runs a hand through his brown locks in frustration. She feels guilty for not having the strength to turn away, but she’s just too curious for her own good. If only she could read his lips just to get an idea as to why he’s so upset, but alas, that’s never been her talent. She waits, occasionally working on her essay (occasionally), then lifting her head back up to check up on him. 

When she looks up after a stroke of genius that had promoted words to pour out onto the page, he’s gone. Her shoulders drop in disappointment. Oh, well. At least all she has to do now is proofread. 

“Did you know your nan is making pot pie for dinner?” 

She swivels in her chair, her eyebrow tilting up. “I did.”

“And you didn’t bother to tell me?” he pretends to be hurt as he falls onto her bed. “I’m wounded you would choose to withhold such valuable information from me.”

“I’m sorry?” she chuckles. Closing her laptop, she sits on the floor right beside where his head falls of the side of the bed. 

He turns to her, his upside-down face grinning pompously at her. “Eh, you know I can never stay mad at you.” She thumps his forehead with another laugh, but he only continues to smile.

*** 

Y/n’s always loved art and how it can imitate life in the way the artist chooses. Ever since she can remember, she’s been doodling landscapes and portraits on napkins or just about any plain surface she can get her hands on. She thinks she gets it from her mum. There’s not much she can remember about her, but she does recall her mother’s love for the fine arts. And as much as she tries not to think about her, she’s happy she knows where she gets it from. 

Mrs. Cuomo, the art teacher, says she has a gift, and Y/n tries not to let it get to her head, but she can’t help it! She’s already taken to looking for art programs around England. If she wouldn’t miss her family too much, she’d consider going abroad. 

“Paris seems fabulous, don’t you think? I mean, they have some of the best fashion schools in the world.” Penny muses as they walk around the gallery. “French boys are a plus.”

“Is that where you want to go after college?” 

“Possibly. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to afford it, though.” 

Y/n nods, understanding her friend’s situation.

They continue to browse all the art on display, until stopping at Y/n’s exhibit. She has three paintings. The one on the left is an abstract portrait of Ava that she’d been working on since the last art show. It was inspired by her little sister’s fifth birthday. Dad had bought her the cutest little periwinkle dress with a grey ribbon around the waist. It’s something Y/n would’ve been over the moon for at that age. But Ava being the little rebel she was (and still is) had gotten it all dirty. Right before her party, she came trudging back into the house, a complete mess from head to toe. Y/n’s entitled the portrait Muddy Princess. On the right is a landscape of a forest with the simple name Serene Acres. Finally, the one in the middle is a sideview of a boy laying in the grass. His hands are behind his head and his eyes are closed. He looks relaxed, like he’s never had a trouble in the world. As do all her paintings, this one had started off as a mere sketch born from a vision that she suddenly had just as she had woken up. To be honest, she wasn’t sure if she’d make it anything more than that. But the longer she spent refining it, she just knew she had to take it all the way. There’s something comforting about him. This one in particular is Y/n’s absolute favorite. 

“Oh, you’re totally going to win this year,” Penny enthuses. “I’m not saying this because you’re my best friend and I’d literally give you a kidney, but seriously. You’re golden.” 

“I hope you’re right,” she says nervously. “Mrs. Cuomo said that the judges are going to be a lot more critical this year. I just hope they like my stuff.” 

Penny waves her off, as if she were talking nonsense. “They will.”

“Will what?” A pair of familiar hands land on her waist, and she can’t help but smile when sees him gasp at the wall in front of her. “Woah,” he’s speechless. She pats his arm as she steps away from him, afraid that his girlfriend might catch sight of them. 

“You like them?” she smiles. He nods, still unable to speak. 

“So, where’s Lia’s display?” Penny asks, but Y/n can sense the annoyance in her voice. She knows all about the girl’s hatred of Y/n.

Harry stares blankly, until finally registering the question. “Oh...um. She decided not to enter, after all.” He wraps an arm Y/n once again, and this time, Y/n doesn’t bother pushing him off.

“That seems sudden,” she says.

“Well...” Harry looks left and right, like he’s making sure no one will hear them. “I guess she realized that she didn’t stand a chance.”

This makes Penny snort. “Are we talking about the same girl here? Lia Hall does not back down. From anything. I’ve seen her at the mall fighting over jeans with University kids. She’s scary as hell.”

***

She’s laying on the grass on her front lawn when Harry comes outside and joins her. His body is oriented in the opposite direction so that their eyes are aligned if they were to face each other. He doesn’t say anything more than a hello. His hands are placed on his stomach and his nose wriggles when a cool breeze brushes past. 

“Lia and I broke up,” he suddenly says, but his voice is even and calm. 

“I’m sorry.”

He laughs loudly. “No, you’re not.” He glances at her before facing back up. “I don’t have to be a mind reader to know that you two don’t get along.”

“At least I know you’re not dense.” She bites back a smile. Why is she so elated with the news? Does that make her a bad person? Who’s to say? “She was pretty awful.”

“She was hot, though,” Harry interjects.

“I suppose.”

Silence washes over them. If she were any more relaxed, she’s sure she could fall asleep right here, next to him. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What?”

“The clouds, Harry. Aren’t they beautiful?” She giggles when he squints at the grey canvas above them. 

“There are no clouds,” he says flatly. He turns his head, their eyes lock.

She swallows, and she’s the first to turn away. With a content sigh, she lets her eyes droop closed. Even without looking, she can feel the way his gaze lingers, like he might be waiting for something more. “You too,” it’s a gentle request, possibly an order. He’s never been able to deny her anything. 

“Alright then,” there’s an amused tone to his voice now. He breathes deeply, his own eyes closing as the air leaves his chest. 

They lay motionless for a comfortable few minutes. Things are quiet between them, and only nature’s melody that plays uninterrupted. 

The wind whistles, and the leaves on the trees dance along with crisp and breezy movements. As the air––which smells strongly of fall’s fiery allure––rubs against her skin and tickles the tip of her nose, another blissful smile leaves a pattern across her lips.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“Not much, honestly. My eyes are closed.” 

She punches his arm. “Don’t be an arse.”

He groans out in pain. “Fine then,” he concedes. “What do you see?”

The image is vivid in her head. “Purple clouds.”

He chuckles softly.

“What color is the grass?”

“Green, of course.”

“That’s boring,” he teases.

She huffs in annoyance. “Not everything needs changing, you know.” He doesn’t challenge it.

“And the sky?”

That’s her favorite part. 

“Tangerine.”

“That’s a fruit.”

“and a color.”

“Why can’t you just say orange?” 

“Because,” she starts in her best ‘you better listen to me or else’ tone. “Orange is a meh kind of color. But tangerine? It’s a bit more exciting.”

“Exciting,” he repeats slowly, as though he were testing the weight of the word on his tongue. 

When she opens her eyes, fully expecting him to be looking at her as though she had two heads, she’s surprised to see that his are still closed. She finds herself studying him. The way his chest steadily rises and falls with each even breath. He looks as calm as she feels at that moment. It’s then she can appreciate just how handsome he really is. Of course, she’s known it for a while (but she’d never tell him that).

So, she turns her head back towards the grey-washed sky and paints over its gloom with an image of their own. 

***

Right before he starts Year 13, Harry’s dad, Des, moves to Boston. Harry tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but Y/n knows that he misses him a lot. Even though his parents have been separated for a long time, he’d at least had a good relationship with both of them. He and his dad would do “manly” things like fishing and batting at the cages. He keeps telling her that he’s fine, and it’s not like he’ll never visit him, but she can sense that something is troubling him. 

It takes a bit of finesse to get him to talk, and once he does, she immediately regrets it. 

“He wants me to follow him,” Harry says, scratching the back of his head. Y/n thinks she might throw up. Boston...America...it’s just so far away. The farthest she’s ever been is Italy on vacation. 

She stares at him apprehensively. “Do you...umm...do you want to go?” 

Harry doesn’t answer her at first. It takes to the count of five for him speak. “I don’t know. Probably not. I mean...it’s a lot to ask, don’t you think? He’s asking me to uproot my life here.” He gazes at her. “And I really like it here.”

She lets out the breath she’d been holding. She doesn’t think she’d be able to handle being that far from him. He’ll be starting University in the fall, and him going to London already feels too much. Goodbyes aren’t easy for her, and she doesn’t think they’ll ever get easier. 

“At least both parents want you,” she doesn’t realize what she’s saying until it’s up in the air. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“No, it’s fine,” she shrugs him off. “It’s just, you’re lucky that both of them love you.”

Harry appears to think hard on this. “I love you.”

Her heart stops beating, her eyes double in size.

“What?” 

He reddens, and for once, she can’t tell what’s going through his head. His jaw juggles back and forth, and then he coughs like he’s got something stuck in his throat. He wipes a hand down his face. “I mean, you’re my best friend, of course I do.” 

Just as quickly as it had enlarged, something inside her deflates. “Oh, right,” she tries not to sound disappointed. It’s a little awkward now, but she’s at least comforted in the fact that he values her so much. She nudges her elbow against him. “Hey,” she quips.

He tilts his head.

“I love you too, doofus.” 

***

Y/n’s always thought her dad to be a kind and fair man.

Matthew Y/l/n doesn’t spoil his girls, but he also knows how to reward them for a job well done. He’s also one of those approachable dads, the ones you can talk to about a crush without him getting overly protective. From when she was eight and until now, he’s always been there for her and Ava, and for that, Y/n is forever grateful. 

Which is why she feels like she can discuss this one teensy little thing with him. Now, Y/n, she’s made up her mind about wanting to pursue a career as an artist. Some might say it’s insane! Risky! Financial suicide! But isn’t the threat of failure all the more reason to strive? She thinks so, and she just knows that her dad will too!

After dinner, which is when her dad is at his happiest. His belly is full of Nan’s roast, and he’s sitting next to Gramps on the couch while they watch sports. This is her chance. She’s already practiced on everyone else in the house, plus Penny and Harry, so she has a pretty solid plan on how to approach him.

“Hey, daddy,” she says sweetly, plopping between him and Gramps. He smiles at her and flings an arm around her shoulder. He returns his attention back to the telly. She gives Gramps a look, one so pleading that she thinks she might have just made him tear up, and he clears his throat and excuses himself. 

“I’ve, uh, got to take a shit.” And he stumbles into the hall, Nan’s snorting following closely behind. 

“So, dad, there’s something I actually want to talk about,” she starts, turning so she’s completely facing him. Matthew presses on the remote so that the screen is completely black. He prods her to continue. 

Y/n chuckles nervously. No big deal. “You know how I’m like crazy about my art? I mean, I’ve won three competitions in the last nine months!” 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ve been telling everyone at work that my daughter’s an artist. You should’ve seen Anthony’s face when he found out you were the one who beat his boy out for the ribbon...”

“Yeah, thanks, Dad.” She can feel herself getting excited. “And I’m so proud that I get to make you proud. I mean, you’ve given me so much, I feel like it’s the least I can do.” On her lips is her most dazzling smile. 

He eyes her suspiciously. “Okay, I’m sensing something else going on here. Spit it out.”

“Well, it’s just that next year is my last year of college, and I’ll be applying to universities soon, so I was hoping that we could talk about me pursuing art.”

“Pursuing art, as in...?”

“Dad, I want to be an artist.” That wasn’t so bad, right? She can see her dad’s face waver in emotion. At first, he looks confused, then maybe a little unsure, but then he’s just unreadable. “Thoughts?” she presses.

“No.”

Had she just heard him right? “What?”

“No.”

“But, Dad–”

“There’s little to no security. The odds of you even making a decent living out of it are practically one in a million.”

“Wait, just hear me out first...”

“I’ve heard enough, Y/n. You’re not going to throw away an education on a hobby.” He sighs, and for a moment, he looks almost guilty. “Look, I’m not telling you to never paint again. I’m just saying that you need to approach this from a more realistic point of view. How about you major in something more reliable––like business or nursing––then minor in what you want?” He continues to ramble on about different prospects, but she’s completely drowned him out by now.

There’s a spot on the rug that’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. Where had she gone wrong? He’s never been so forceful with his decisions before. Had she overlooked a portion of her speech? 

“Mum loved art,” she whispers, but it’s just loud enough for him to hear.

Matthew stiffens at the mention of his estranged wife. “Your mother loved a lot of things. A lot more than she ever loved us.” And with that, he gets up and leaves.

***

“I think you should go for it,” she can always count on Harry to support her. 

She sighs, burying her face in his pillow. It smells of coconut and lavender. After her dad had walked out, she’d ran across the yard and had tackled Harry with a hug while he was taking out the trash. He’d given her some water (God knows how hysterical she’d been moments prior) before leading her up to his room so she could calm down.

“What if Dad’s right?” she mutters. “What if this really is just a hobby?” She suddenly feels herself being flipped onto her back, his legs straddling either side of her, his eyes boring into hers like lasers. Thoughts flash through her head, and it crosses her mind that he might actually kiss her. But he remains still.

“Look at me,” he says. “You’re amazing, and you know it. I know it. This whole damn town knows it. If there’s one person I know can make it as an artist, it’s you.”

While his words do encourage her, she’s far more concerned with how close he is. She nods in acknowledgement, and he flops next to her. Both of them stare at the ceiling. She wonders if he ever feels what she feels. 

“I got you something,” he says after a few minutes. He quickly turns and fishes for something under his bed.

“A present?” she doesn’t bother hiding the playfulness in her voice.

He kicks the side of her leg. “Grow up.”

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

He pulls out a giftbag and hands it to her. “Saw this when I was out with Mum and well, it reminded me of you.” 

Peeking into the bag, she immediately smiles. “Is this...is this a frog?”

“Yeah, because remember when we first met? I gave you a–”

“Chocolate frog,” she finishes. It’s a plush toy the size of a basketball and its body is the same colors as their special world. Harry must’ve picked it out because of it. He’s always been thoughtful like that. It shouldn’t surprise her, but whenever he remembers these little things, she can’t help but feel weak at the knees. She and hugs her new frog to her chest. “It’s so cute! Oh, what should we name it?”

“Well, I feel like there’s only one appropriate name for it,” he winks.

“Kaleidoscope?” 

“That...that wasn’t even close to what I was going to say.”

She giggles, reaching over and bringing him in for a hug. “I’m just messing with you! We’ll obviously be calling him Freddo.” She sighs happily when his arms hold on to her tightly. Yeah, she likes his hugs a lot.

***

It’s the middle of March when Harry’s cousin comes to live with him. Jared is about his age, with the same shade of brown hair, only his is straight as opposed to Harry’s mess of wavy curls. Harry had told her that Jared’s mother (Anne’s sister, Sonya) had just passed away after her battle with cancer, and Y/n’s heart broke for the boy she barely knows. Similar to Penny’s situation, Jared’s dad isn’t in the picture. He’d left him and his mum before he was even born, and according to Harry, Jared’s always been very bitter about it.

Jared doesn’t leave his room much, only for school and for meals. Harry’s the only person he talks to because he wants to, not because he has to. They were practically like brothers before Jared had moved away, which Y/n is surprised to hear since she’s never heard of him before. But apparently when they were kids––way before Y/n moved in next door––Jared and his mum would always come over Harry’s house, and they’d play until one of them had to be forcibly dragged away. She had laughed when Harry had told her the story of how he and Jared had gotten stuck in the tree out back for five hours because the adults were so busy chatting inside.  

Sometimes Y/n will stop by and personally offer him some of Nan’s famous chocolate pie, and he’ll accept it only to give it to Harry once she leaves. Of course, she knows it’s nothing personal against her, it just makes her sad that she can’t help someone who is so important to her best friend. It’s hard for her to see Harry worry so much about him, and she really is trying her hardest to help him out. She doesn’t think Jared hates her, if anything, she always catches him staring at her in the halls when he thinks she doesn’t notice. That’s a promising sign, right?

“I happen to think he’s very good looking,” Penny tells her as they walk to Physics. “He kind of reminds of a young Leo.”

“You said the same thing about Harry last week,” Y/n giggles.

“They’re related, aren’t they? Maybe beautiful genes run in the family.”

Penny looks at her. “What do you think?”

She stares back at her. “About?”

“You know, Jared!” 

Y/n’s lips purse together. She hadn’t given him much thought, honestly. 

***

She’s glued to her sketchpad while sitting on the front lawn when she notices a shadow approach her. Not bothering to look up, she pats the spot beside her.

“Nan says that the pudding will be ready in ten,” she says. 

“That’s...cool.” That’s not Harry.

Tearing her eyes away from her latest drawing, she turns her head and sees the last person she expected. “Jared! Hi!” she squeaks.

He offers her a side grin. “Hey,” is all he says. He looks down into her lap. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans before settling them around his ankles. “Uh...do you mind if I sit here with you? You can say no, I was just feeling a little stuffed up in–”

“Of course! I love company!” she smiles broadly.

“I don’t know, you and that pencil were looking pretty cozy,” he suggests. She quirks a brow at him, but when the signs of a smirk begin to change the way his eyes gleam, she finally gets it.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting!” She doesn’t hesitate to slap him over the head. He sniggers in return but doesn’t say much more after that. Y/n continues to draw, but occasionally she’ll look up and catch him watching her. He immediately turns away, pretending to be busy with a blade of grass, or he’ll start whistling like it’s a sitcom.  

***

It doesn’t take long before Jared finally opens up to her. He’s funny––really funny, even though most of his humor is dirty––and is constantly finding ways to make Y/n laugh. She’s found that he does a nearly perfect impression of Austin Powers, and she enjoys it very much. There are also certain angles that really highlight how handsome he is. His eyes are a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair. There are freckles evenly spread around his nose, almost as if they’d been specifically placed there. And oh, his lashes! They’re just as long as Harry’s, except maybe even fuller. She imagines what they would look like with a fresh coat of mascara. (She jokingly brought up the idea once, and to her delight, Jared says he wouldn’t mind it one bit.)

Harry seems happy that his cousin appears to be back to his old, goofball self. He’s definitely not as stressed over trying to get Jared out of his room as he had been in the immediate weeks after his Aunt Sonya’s death. Even Anne is starting to smile more. Losing her sister had been difficult for her, but Y/n admires how she had stepped up and took her nephew in without hesitance. She’s almost positive that that’s where Harry gets his selflessness from.

“Okay, real question, would you rather give up all desserts or all cheeses?” Jared asks. He always plays this game with her. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes even thought-provoking if she’s really into it. 

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. Because what about–”

Both their eyes grow wide. “Cheesecake!”

Her head falls onto his shoulder as she laughs. She doesn’t see how Harry turns away. Although, sometimes she’ll notice how he’ll have this weird look in his eyes whenever the three of them are all hanging out together, but she thinks she’s just imagining it. 

***

When Penny tells her that Jared might like her, she doesn’t totally object to the idea.

***

A few days later, Jared kisses her. It’s one of those kisses that happen when you least expect it. She’s frozen in shock until his lips pull away. It’s strange, she likes the feeling, but something seems amiss. He looks at her nervously, like he’s afraid he’s done something completely wrong. But when she finally manages to get over that initial uncertainty, a grin slowly forms on her lips, and he’s kissing her again.

***

In two weeks’ time, she sees Harry snogging Penny outside his front door. She isn’t sure how to react, but she knows there’s this weird feeling inside of her that she doesn’t like.

***

Her and Harry haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other since they started dating other people. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, in fact, she really misses him. Saturday morning breakfasts just aren’t the same without him shuffling into the kitchen in his half-asleep state. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going out of his way to avoid her. Penny says that maybe he’s just feeling awkward because her two best friends are dating. (It turns out Harry had been the guy she’d been pining over for years.)

Maybe that’s true, but shouldn’t that make it easier for them to find themselves in the same room? She’s happy that Penny’s finally happy! Things hadn’t worked out with her last two boyfriends because all they wanted was to take advantage of her. If there’s one thing she’s sure about, it’s that Harry would never cross any lines that Penny hadn’t invited him to cross.

When they’re in Harry’s car, she’ll catch glimpse of how Harry takes Penny’s hand over the console, or how she’ll feed him fries from their takeaway. It makes her happy to see them like this. Really, it does.

Jared is just as much a gentleman, too. They haven’t done anything past snogging, and she’s okay with that. She isn’t even sure she’s ready for that type of commitment. It’s not like she has this idealized fantasy about losing her virginity. She doesn’t expect it to happen in the same way as the movies, with candles and a bed full of rose petals, or any of that romantic stuff. If the time’s right, it’s right. All she wants is to make sure her heart’s a hundred and ten percent in it before she lets anyone in. She wonders if Penny and Harry have talked about going all the way.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh,” Y/n tries not to sound surprised. “And how did that go?”

Penny gives a noncommitted answer. “He says he’s willing to wait until I’m ready. But the thing is, I’m ready now!”

***

Penny loses her virginity soon after. Y/n is the first person she calls, and it’s a bunch of squealing and bragging about how perfect it all was. How gentle and attentive he’d been, and how she can’t wait to do it again. It takes everything in her to not hang up. She loves Penny to death, but some things––at least in her opinion––are left unsaid.

***

The first time she and Harry get to spend time together, as in just the two of them, is when Jared is stuck in bed with a cold, and Penny is out with her mum. It’s not exactly planned, in fact, she had only seen him from the living room window whilst helping Nan dust the mantel. Deciding she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she drops the feather duster and runs out the front door.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, but she doesn’t sit. It’s only now she sees the bottle of beer hanging between his fingers. He usually only drinks when he’s got something messing with his head. 

He nods at her, and gestures to the spot beside him. She sits, but it feels to calculated for them. Usually, she’d plop down, not caring if their knees would brush together. Now, she’s careful to leave at least a few inches between them. And she hates how awkward things feel between them. In a matter of months, they’d gone from being attached at the hip, to barely acquaintances. 

“So, what’s going on?”

He takes a sip from the bottle, his face twitching with disgust as he does so, then takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel like things should be different?”

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair over her shoulders. She doesn’t know if the goosebumps running down her spin are from that or the it’s from the magnitude of his question. “Different, how?”

His features soften when he finally looks at her. As in, really looks at her. It feels like so long since he’s done, that it takes her breath away. He doesn’t say anything yet, but she can see in his eyes that there’s something there. 

“Harry?” she whispers.

His eyes drop down to her lips, and he licks his own in reaction. Nothing seems to matter at that moment. If her mind had been juggling with thoughts before this, it isn’t now. All she can think about his him. How good it feels to be so close him, and how she wants to be closer. 

Then it hits her. Jared. She’s with Jared, and Harry’s with Penny. She’d been leaning into him, but now that she’s broken from his trance, she straightens up.

Harry brushes off his disappointment with another sip from his beer. His stare lands across the street, where a pair of children are chasing each other around a tree. He drops his head, his hand wrapping around the base of his neck.

“I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow.”

She nods slowly. “Visiting your dad?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

Finally, he stands up, then offers her his hand so she can too. He doesn’t let go right away, and she revels in how good it feels. She smiles down to where they’re holding each other, then stares into his green orbs. 

Pulling on her arm, she’s suddenly trapped in his embrace. She hugs him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulder blades and pinching his t-shirt between her fingers. It’s all a bit confusing, but she continues to cling to him. She feels his nose nudge the crown of her head before he lets go.

He turns around and doesn’t look back. 

She isn’t sure what just happened, but it feels a lot like goodbye.

*** Ten Years Later

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighs. “I can’t be the only one who’s thinking it.” He shuffles in place, eyes scanning the room around them. “What do you suggest then?”

“Take this to the empty wall by the entrance, then move the Reynalda exhibit closer to the back. It’s our main attraction, we have to make people work for it.”

Angelo nods approvingly, and she calls a thank you out to him as he gets to work. Y/n watches the rest of her staff disperse into their allocated directions, and it’s then she can finally take a moment for herself. Sometimes she feels suffocated, but at the same time so hollow.

There are so many reasons why Y/n shouldn’t be feeling as empty as she does now. After all, her life is pretty damn close to perfect. She graduated university with high honors, she has a well-paying job as director of a prestigious art gallery, and she lives in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment with her adoring fiancé who she’s been with for the better part of a decade. 

She can’t pinpoint when exactly she realized that something had been missing, or maybe this feeling has always existed somewhere deep inside, and she’s just been really good at hiding it. The only person who knows about this internal battle is Ava, but Y/n doesn’t like to bother her too much since she’s busy with coursework, as well as her own problems that come with being nineteen and young. 

Of course, there’s Jared. Her love. Her rock. Her other half. She doesn’t know why can’t talk about this with him. Maybe it’s too much of girl problem, or maybe it’s just guilt. The last thing she wants him to think is that he’s not enough to fill this void in her life. If anything, he’d been able to pick up all her damaged pieces when she just couldn’t. He’s great, more than. She depends on him, and he’s never let her down. 

But if that’s true. Why can’t she just be honest?

***

“Right, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you–” he pauses, and she can see the concern overtake his features from the reflection of the blank television screen. He walks around their living room and kneels in front of her, his hands rubbing her lower thighs with every intention to soothe her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t really know,” she laughs, then shakes her head. “It’s silly, really. You go ahead. Go have fun with Sid.” It’s her best attempt at a smile, but it’s a weak one. 

He looks at her unsurely, like he’s debating if he should protest or not. She kisses him gently on the lips. 

“Go.” And she nudges him to his feet. Although she can tell he’s hesitant, he eventually concedes, leaning down for just one more peck to her forehead, then he’s out the door.

She needs to find a way to depress this strange feeling. It’s starting to affect too much of her life. A life that she enjoys, thank you very much.

Before she falls slave to her thoughts, she slumps into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cabernet. Maybe it’s a far too generous portion, but is there ever such thing as too much wine? At least for tonight, the answer is no.

The alcohol burns her throat with its bitter sweetness, and she finds comfort in how it settles at the pit of her stomach. She breathes in deeply. This is just what she needs. It’s all in her head. Stress, probably. 

Just as she’s about to rewrap herself in her blanket, the front door opens and closes with a gentle thud. She swings around, brows curling in question as Jared slips off his coat leans against the nearest wall.

“Sid will understand. You’re the one who needs me tonight.” 

She leans against the arm of the couch, a moved smile playing at her lips because, wow. How did she get so lucky?

***

“I found another grey hair this morning,” Jared says. “Is this what getting old feels like?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-eight, Jae. And besides, silver foxes are pretty sexy.” 

“I guess I’m a bit of a Clooney.” And he wags his brows suggestively. If he’s trying to come onto her, it’s not exactly working, but she’s also not completely turned off. This is why they’re good together. After all these years he still knows how to make her laugh.

They’re about a quarter though their takeaway (and she’s so touched that Jared decided to stay home that she doesn’t even say anything about the pork fried rice) when their doorbell sounds.

“I got it, hun,” he says, placing his plate on the coffee table, and grabbing a napkin before greeting the unexpected guest.

Y/n is pleasantly surprised when Penelope falls into the seat beside her. She looks dressed for a date, but the way she blows ferociously into the air, Y/n knows that things haven’t gone her way.

Without asking, Penny helps herself to their food, moaning as she stuffs a spoonful of that same fried rice into her mouth. “If I wasn’t wearing this dress, I would a hundred percent finish this whole thing.”

“You can borrow some clothes,” Y/n offers. Her friend pretends to contemplate, but she’s the first one to stride over into the master bedroom. 

Y/n pulls out a fresh pair of pajamas, and when she turns around, her mouth quirks in a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Under Penny’s dress is the daintiest set of red lace lingerie she’s ever seen. (And she has her fair share of lingerie since she knows it drives Jared wild.)

“Looks like you were in for a sexier evening,” she muses. She tosses Penny the set.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing,” she says. Y/n isn’t quite sure what she means by it, but smirks, nonetheless.  

“Now...” Penny pulls her hair through the hem of the borrowed shirt, “let’s finish off that food, shall we?”

Jared doesn’t say anything when they get back, either too consumed with his egg rolls or not wanting to interject himself into the conversation. Y/n simply kisses him on the cheek as she settles back into her meal. 

She glances at Penny for a moment, and her curiosity becomes overpowering. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to ask, but I feel like I have to now,” she explains. Penny cocks a brow at her. “What happened tonight.”

“He cancelled last minute. I was already at the damn restaurant when he texted saying something came up.” She stabs a piece of orange chicken. “It’s a bunch of bullocks if you ask me.” Typical Penny. It wouldn’t be fair to say that her friend is prone to trust issues, but it does take a little more effort. Ever since Harry had broken up with her back when they were seventeen, she hasn’t kept a relationship for more than a few weeks because she claims she doesn’t want to risk getting her heart broken again.

Harry Styles had broken her best friend’s heart, then disappeared to another country. Y/n hates him for that. She hates that he threw away all those years of friendship without a proper explanation. She hates that he abandoned her, especially when he knew how insecure she is about goodbyes. 

But not every guy is Harry. There are good ones that will stick by you no matter what, like Jared. Y/n reaches over and brushes his bangs away from his eyes. Penny just needs to find her person, and Y/n just knows that once she does, she’ll finally feel right.

“This is that Ahmed guy from the gym, right? I don’t know, Pen. He’s a decent bloke. Maybe something really did happen.”

Penny pulls a face, like she’s just oversaturated her food with soy sauce. “Wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s got baggage, and he won’t accept that he isn’t happy to carry it anymore.”

That last bit sticks to her. 

***

Her job requires her to have both a deep appreciation for art and a mind for marketing strategy. It had been the closest compromise that she and her father had come to when she had started her plight for a degree. 

After spending the last of her year of secondary school having second thoughts about the plausibility of making it in the art world, she decided that maybe her dad was right, after all. He would tell her to be in charge, to take control of her life. That way, she’d never be blindsided by anything. She’s still around the world she loves––the canvas, the acrylics, the community of dreamers who share their passion with the world––just from a more business perspective. The more she reflects on those naïve teenage years, the more she appreciates the direction she’d took. She has the best of both worlds, in her opinion. A steady income, and a building full of paintings and sculptures and history. What more can she ask for?

“Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder, where Angelo, her assistant, waves some a sizeable file in his hands. He gives her a knowing smirk.

“Good news?” she teases.

Angelo hands her the file. “Sales report can confirm.”

She glosses it over, satisfied with the numbers. Looks like she’d inherited more from her dad than just his advice. “And they said Expressionism was dead.” Their last grand showcase had been an ode to the German Expressionism movement. They had drawn criticism in the days leading up to the event because some saw it as outdated. But that’s just ridiculous. Art is art. And while history remains in the past, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be appreciated. Y/n’s vision for the gallery is embrace both the old and the new.

“Degenerates,” Angelo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Dax, Narsi, and I are thinking Damond’s for lunch. You in?”

She looks down at her watch, and curses under her breath. “Can’t,” she sighs. “I have to interview the new curator in a bit.”

“You work too much,” he says humorously, but they both know there’s truth stitched into his words. He gives a friendly squeeze to her elbow. “Bring you back sandwich?” 

“Please,” she smiles. He gives her a mock salute before turning on his heel. 

When he’s completely out of sight, she lets her lips fall into a frown. She examines her watch again, there’s still a few minutes until their scheduled virtual call. She uses the time to stroll the halls, something she doesn’t really get to do. Well, not for fun, at least. 

Things are currently in transition, and all of the Maximalism works are finding their way onto her walls. She stops in front of one in particular that just screams color. With its carefully planned, yet freeing mixture of patterns and textures, it’s a piece to tickle the brain. 

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes widen. That voice. She feels everything from her body to her unsuspecting heart freeze.

Her grip on her own arm tightens painfully. She thinks she might turn blue from her inability to breathe at this moment. 

“I’ve always liked how much of the artist we can feel. It really captures the complexity of character.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I agree.” She risks all and looks up, and he’s right there waiting for her. Harry. Her arms drop to her side as she feels herself grow weak.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Hi,” he whispers, then smiles. That smile. She had tried so hard not to think about how it had once been her favorite image. His dimples have caved in deeper, if that’s even possible. And his eyes, they’re the same brilliant green she remembers. “I saw an ad in the paper and thought I’d check it out.”

Something must be strangling her vocal cords because she finds that she’s unable to make a sound. 

***

“And what did you do?” 

Y/n drops her head to the table, not even caring if it’s dirty. With the day she’s had, it’s the least of her problems. “I was in shock! I-I think I might have screamed at him.” 

Ava snorts into her drink. 

There’s not much about earlier that she can clearly recall, but she does remember how she had fled to her car and driven halfway across the city to her sister’s dorm and dragged her to the nearest pub. Why? Because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Why would he just...show up?” she questions. “It makes no sense!”

“Probably got homesick,” Ava shrugs. “Plus, Dad says it’s been in the work–”

“Wait,” Y/n’s head snaps towards her. “Dad knows?”

The younger woman looks at her as if she were insane. “Duh, he’s the one that approved the transfer.”

“But why am I only hearing about this now?” She feels herself heating up with annoyance, anger, and something else that makes her want to pull her hair out. Ava doesn’t respond right away. She looks down at her now empty drink and watches as the ice cubes into water. 

“Well,” she starts, still not bothering to meet her eyes, “ever since he left, he’s been a bit of a taboo subject for you.” 

Her jaw tenses at that, and she sits back in her chair. That’s a bit of an overstatement. Y/n had reacted the way any person would have if put in her situation. She huffs with frustration. “So, what else is everyone hiding from me?”

“This isn’t an intervention, enough with the dramatics,” Ava says.

Y/n’s lips form into a straight line. She looks over the bar and tuts her tongue. “I need another drink,” she mutters. “Where the heck is Penny? She’s supposed to be working tonight.”

***

After Ava had started going to school in the city, her dad had decided to move into the London office full-time in order to be closer to both his girls. And lucky for Y/n, he’s just close enough to get information out of. She visits her dad during her lunch break because she needs answers.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she demands, bursting through his office door without any regard for just about anything. “Explain to me why...”

Matthew Y/l/n tilts his head at her with a raised brow, and the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk has an expression to match.

“Perfect,” she sneers. “We’re all here, then.”

She nearly loses it when Harry choke down a laugh while getting up and offering her his now empty seat. She takes it, but not before she glares at him and his stupid face. 

Her dad looks like he’s been caught in a crossfire, and he calculatingly smooths down his perfectly ironed tie. Harry takes the seat beside hers, except he makes a point to pull it a few inches away.

“So...” her dad practically sings. “Harry’s back!”

“I can see that.” From the corner of her eye, she sees a smirk. “Why are you even here?” 

Harry doesn’t seem offended despite the harsh nature of her tone. He chances a glance at her dad before turning to her. “Work,” is his first answer. He bounces one leg over the other and leans back against the back the seat. His expression softens. “But I guess I just really missed home.”

She thinks that’s bullshit. No decent person would leave everything behind without a second thought. “It took you ten years?”

“I did what I had to do,” he retorts.

“And that was to just disappear?” 

“This isn’t really the place nor time...”

“Then why bother coming back!"

That manages to crack Harry’s calm demeanor. He looks at her as if she had knocked the wind from his lungs. At this point her chest is heaving, as well. She forgets where they are and that her dad is a witness to this outburst. 

“I, uh,” they both turn to Matthew as he tries to find the words to appease the situation. “I was thinking we could all go out for dinner later?” He’s joking, right? He smiles as her, but with that ‘I’m your father and you don’t have much of a say in this’ look in his eyes. “How about you and Jared meet us around...say, seven? Hey, you know what? Bring Penelope, too!”

“Pen–”

Matthew swivels in his chair and practically hops to his feet. He leans down and kisses Y/n on the head. “Got to get to a meeting. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s gone. It leaves her alone with the person she wants nothing more than to get away from.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. There are so many things she feels bombarding her all at once and there’s not one thing she can make sense of. Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s typing something on his phone. His lips are quirked up in an almost-grin, and she can’t help but feel miffed that he has the audacity to pull such a face in her presence when all she can do is glower. 

“I guess we’ll talk later?” he suddenly says. He slips his phone into his pants pocket. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Like her dad had done, he gets up and starts towards the door. But before she can even hear it graze against the carpeting, he mutters one last thing. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

Her dress squeaks loudly against the leather of her seat because she must have turned too quickly. Their eyes meet, his are difficult to read.

***

“...and I’ve been trying to look for a flat, but the boss works me too hard,” Harry smirks over at Matthew. Her dad lets out a hearty chuckle as he finishes off the last of dessert.

“Well, if you’re really that overworked, it’s not at all obvious,” Penny says with a saucy smile. “Definitely still a catch.” She touches his arm, and Y/n digs her nails into her palm because it makes her feel sick. It’s ridiculous that she’s so bothered by how quickly conversation had flowed between Harry and Penelope. 

Jared has an arm around the back of her chair. He looks bored with the conversation. She can’t tell if he’s irked at Harry (in the same way she is) or because he sees how much her dad likes him. That’s not to say that Jared isn’t well liked by Matthew. He did get his blessing to propose, after all. Yeah, they’ve been engaged for a while now. But so, what? Long engagements are common enough, and it does allow the two participants to fully get to know one another, as well as get close to the important people in their lives. Things just aren’t as smooth between her dad and Jared as she would like, but she supposes that’ll ease over with time. 

“I wouldn’t let my current appearance fool you,” Harry snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Penny bats her lashes at him. 

Y/n can’t take it anymore. “So!” she interrupts, “Pen, didn’t you go out with that Vogue photographer last night?

Her friend gives her an odd look, but when she sees the rest of the table’s eyes on her, she waves it off. “Oh, yeah. But it didn’t end how I would’ve liked.” She gestures between her legs. “He had a little trouble getting it up.” 

“Penelope Swanton,” Matthew warns, as if she might give him a heart attack. “Parental unit sitting right here.”

Everyone shares a laugh except for Y/n and Jared. The latter just stares at the tablecloth with vague intensity. It’s strange that he hasn’t made a quip all night. He’s usually the one who talks the most...well, besides Penny. 

“Maybe pretty girls scare him,” Harry chuckles. “It happens to the best of us.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in Penny’s eyes. “Do I scare you, Harry?” 

“COFFEE!” Y/n all but screams. “We should order coffee!” She can’t just sit there and watch her friend make the same mistakes all over again. It would be a serious miscarriage of justice is she were to let that happen. 

But she can only stall for so long, and before she knows it, they’re all making their way out of the restaurant. It’s that awkward phase of standing outside and making small talk before someone has the balls to leave. Harry offers Penny a ride, and Y/n has to watch as they get into his car, laughing like he hadn’t broken her heart all those years ago. 

Jared still seems to be in a mood as well, but he plays it off and tells her he’s got a stomachache from the scallops he had as an appetizer. She rubs his back as they wait for the valet to bring their car around, glaring at Harry’s taillights before he turns onto the road. 

***

Y/n manages to not think about Harry for a few weeks. With the newest exhibit opening up, it’s kept her body and mind busy. By the time she gets home, she’s tired and all she wants is to put her feet up and watch reruns of Downton Abbey.

The doorbell rings, and she can’t help but groan because she was just getting comfortable. She looks through the peephole, then shakes her head knowingly. She pulls the door open.

“Don’t you have work?” she asks playfully, but she wishes she could take it back when she sees the broken look painted across Penny’s face. “Oh my god, are you alright?” She guides her friend into the apartment and sits her down on the couch.

Penny suddenly bursts into tears, her face falling into her hands as though she were hiding her shame. Not wanting to distress her further, Y/n gathers her in her arms and lets her cry it out. They’ve been through a lot together, and in all their years of friendship, she’s never seen her look so somber as she does now.  

She strokes her hair, whispering her reassurance even though she’s left in the dark. Penny breaks from her hug and wipes her eyes with her knuckles before looking at her with misty eyes. “I’m...” but she starts blubbering, and nothing coherent can be understood. Y/n waits patiently until she can speak. “I’m pregnant.” 

Y/n feels the color drain from her face while her head fills worry. She can’t decide who she’s worried more about, Penny or her baby. Penny is an adult is capable of making her own decisions, but she can also be reckless. She can barely pay her rent on time and her work schedule isn’t the best either. A baby would mean growing up, but Y/n knows that Penny’s still trying to figure things out. 

Then, the inevitable question bubbles in her throat. “How far along?” Penny sniffles. “About six weeks.”

Y/n feels awful that the first thing she feels is relief. Not Harry’s. “And the father?” 

“I can’t tell him,” Penny cries, she lays her head in Y/n’s lap. “He’s...he has a...” She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Y/n to understand.

“Penny...” her tone is every bit of disappointed. 

***

She accompanied Penny to her first appointment to the OB-GYN this morning, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat had been enough to drive both women to tears. It was beautiful, and the look in Penny’s eyes said all that they could. Sure, Y/n had worried about her when she first learned of the pregnancy, but that had immediately changed with just that one look. 

One day, Y/n hopes to have children of her own. She and Jared have opened up the topic a few times, but they never seem to be on the same page when it comes to starting a family. He claims it’s because his job’s hours are too crazy to juggle an infant. He’s the physical therapist for the National Football team, which means he has to go with them on away games. Deep down, however, Y/n thinks he’s afraid that he’ll end up the way his father did. She wants to tell him that’s ridiculous, but she always has to walk on eggshells about that. 

It’s okay, though. Until she and Jared can come to an agreement, she has no qualms over spoiling her new niece or nephew. Auntie Y/n. She likes the sound of that. So much, in fact, that she finds herself outside of a baby boutique on the high street. She wonders if Penny will be having a boy or a girl. 

“So cute!” she smiles to herself when she sees all the onesies on the mini mannequins. Would it be too early to plan Penny’s baby shower? She’s so lost in hypothetical party planning that she doesn’t notice see body before they collide, and warm liquid misses her shoes by mere centimeters. 

“I’m so sorry!” she rushes out an apology. There’s an unflattering brown stain on his otherwise perfect white button-up. She grabs for her wallet in her purse, hoping to at least pay for the damages, but stops when she gets a good look at him.

“You.” 

The world must really have it out for her. Harry looks down at his tainted shirt. “Nice seeing you too.” 

“Sorry,” she says again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Head in the clouds?” he muses, shaking his sleeve of the last remaining drops of coffee.

She smiles tightly. “Just window shopping.”

He looks at the store in front of them, and his head snaps towards her. “Are you...?”

“No,” she replies immediately. “A friend of mine.”

For some reason, his shoulders seem to relax. He’s still incredibly handsome, though she never doubted that that would ever change. Under his wet shirt, she notices a sizeable few tattoos inked onto his chest. The sight intrigues her, and she has to stop herself from reaching out and tracing them with her finger. 

“Let me pay for your dry-cleaning,” she says, tearing her eyes away from his body. 

Harry shakes his head. “There’s no need, honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” She really doesn’t want to be in his debt. “I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Why is he so stubborn?

“I insist.” 

He studies her for a moment. She imagines that she can see the gears turning as he thinks. 

“I’m actually on my way to a viewing, and well...I’m not really sure what to look for.”

She replays his words in her head. “So, you want me to...help you pick out an apartment?” That can’t be right.

“My car’s just over there,” he points with his chin. “What do you say?”

Alarms are sounding in her head, each one screaming a different command between her ears. A part of her is saying it’s a bad idea, that she should stand her ground and stay mad at him because of what he had done. On the other hand, the rest of her––the biggest part of her––wants to indulge in the feeling she has when she’s with him. It’s a crazy mix of fury and joy that isn’t entirely unbearable. 

“Fine,” she concedes, and she brushes past him and starts towards his car. “But only because I feel bad about the shirt.” She doesn’t dare look back. She slides into the passenger seat and buckles herself in. Her stomach is doing cartwheels beneath her high-waisted pants. 

Harry gets into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the engine right away. He pulls his jacket off and places it neatly on the console. What he does next makes her regret getting out of bed this morning. Her mouth dries as he undoes every button of his shirt and reveals the tattoos she’d been fantasizing about earlier.

“Do-do you mind?” She feels her cheeks heat up, and she turns to the window in hopes to find a distraction. 

“Well, I’m not going to talk business looking like I’ve just been bullied by a barista.”

“That’s completely beside the point!” 

“Well, you can look now, Mother Teresa,” he says smugly. She hesitantly cranes her neck back. He’s now sporting a similar shirt, but this time, it’s dark grey. “See?”

She huffs, then mutters something under her breath. He smiles at her, like he’s just dying to tease her, but ultimately decides not to. She just glares straight ahead.

“Just drive the damn car.”

***

“And this unit is complete with its own balcony which overlooks the Thames,” Mariette, Harry’s real-estate agent says to the both of them. “It sets the mood nicely, don’t you think? And it happens to be very popular with our younger couples.” She sends them a not-so-subtle wink. 

Y/n feels herself flush, and she ducks into the kitchen and pretends to inspect the marble countertop. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry says. He doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention, or if he is, he’s really good at hiding his own embarrassment. Y/n wonders if he’s just humoring the over-zealous agent. After all, he was never the type to correct someone over silly little details. 

Mariette tells them to walk around, get a feel for the place, before excusing herself to make a phone call. Y/n follows Harry up the stairs where all the bedrooms are. There are three, and the master bedroom has its own ensuite toilet and bath.

“What do you think?” Harry asks her.

She glances at the view from the window. It’s beautiful, gorgeous even. The building itself is in one of the nicer parts of town, where the congested London traffic wouldn’t take away from its overall aura. She can already picture him spending the mornings on the balcony with a cup of tea and a book or passed out on a king-sized mattress in the bedroom after a long day of work.

“It’s nice,” she answers truthfully. “But it doesn’t matter what I think.”

Harry looks at her like she’s spewing nonsense. “I asked for your input, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But at the end of the day, it’s your home. Not mine. You might not even stay around long enough to enjoy it.” The look on his face when she lets that last part slip out makes her wish she had just shut her mouth. She leaves him in the bedroom and heads into the hall. She needs to get away. Why couldn’t she have just given him a simple answer? Why does she continue to open up old wounds that she knows she’ll never be able to close? 

Before she can get far, however, his fingers curl around her shoulder. He swallows thickly behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Until now, he hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t expected him to, and now she isn’t sure how to take it. This should vindicate her, but all she wants to do is curl up and close herself off from the world, even for a little while.

She looks down to her feet, and as though on cue, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her hand quickly lands on her mouth to muffle a sob.

He turns her towards him, holding her by the waist. In a split-second, she’s wrapped in his arms. She tries to pull away, but her body is too unwilling to lose his familiar warmth. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” she whimpers against his shirt.

His chest heaves. “Because if I did, I’d never be able to leave.” His words shake her.

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “But what about me?” she asks. “Harry, you were my best friend, and you just treated me like I meant nothing to you.” It made her feel like nothing. Apparently, she’s an easy person to leave behind. First it was her mother, then the person she trusted most. She couldn’t tell you which had broken her more.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Scoffing, “A bit late for that, no?”

“Then let me make it up to you,” his plea is coated with desperation. Every bit of him shines with sincerity that she wishes she could ignore. His touch burns her through her clothes like blue flames. Body and mind are rekindling, and now that she remembers what it feels like to be close to him, she can’t see a version of herself that doesn’t want him back in her life.

“I don’t know if I believe in second chances,” she says softly. His grip on her loosens substantially, and there’s a sudden fear that he’ll let go. “But,” she continues, “you’ll be my first.”

It’s a bone-crushing, heart-enlarging hug, and it leaves her feeling happier than she’s felt in a long time.

***

They’re not the same two kids who would spend every waking moment together, but this is the closest they’ll ever get in adult life.

Harry visits her on her lunch breaks and lets her bounce marketing strategies off of him whilst they walk the gallery. Just like her dad, he has a well-versed business mind. It feels good to be able to talk to him again. It’s like a part of herself has risen after years of sleep and is finally seeing the light of day. Under the fancy suits and numerous tattoos, he’s still the same guy who can listen to her talk for hours without fail.

She’s even had him over for dinner at her and Jared’s place. At first, she was afraid that things would be tense between the two of them, after all, Jared hadn’t talked much during their dinner nearly a month back. To her delight, however, they seemed to pick up where they left off, and spent majority of the night talking sports and all that ‘man’ talk that she can never be bothered to understand. 

If a month ago she had felt empty, she can proudly admit that she’s starting to fill up.

***

When Penny announces that the baby is a girl, Y/n is probably the most excited. She visits the baby boutique she’d been browsing some days ago and buys a rubber duckie onesie with a matching headband, along with four other matching sets.

“You really shouldn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Penny scolds her.

Y/n waves her off. There shouldn’t be any of that nonsense. She likes being able to spoil her best friend’s future child. “I want to. Just humor me, okay? I’m aiming for Auntie of the Year.” She lays all the rest of the outfits on Penny’s sofa.

“It’s true,” Harry adds. “She’s already had the bib made.” Y/n flips him off but is far too delighted by all the pretty patterns to come up with a proper retort. Rather, she tries to sweep Penny into conversation about a real baby shower (and not just the one she’d planned in her head), discussing potential guests and a wish list that she should start setting up on Amazon.

Jared and Penny give each other a look, and the way the former’s jaw tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry but completely goes over Y/n’s head.  

***

“Why don’t you put any of your own work on display?” Harry asks her one day.

“Honestly?” she sighs, “I haven’t actually made anything in...well, almost a decade.”

His jaw drops. “I don’t think I heard you right, a decade?” 

The same amount of time you’ve been gone, she thinks to herself. Of course, now that they’re back to being friends, she would never say it out loud. 

***

Nan had called her up and asked if she and Ava would drive up to Holmes Chapel and help her sort out all the things to donate. They try to visit their grandparents every few months because they are getting to the age where they won’t be around for long. Although, Nan will tell anyone with ears that she’s stronger than she was in her twenties due to her weekly spin classes at the community center. Meanwhile, Gramps is still the same as ever. He still sits in front of the TV and watches highlights of games he’s got recorded on the DV-R, and accidentally knocks over Nan’s petunia’s when he backs the car out of the garage. 

Her childhood bedroom is also how she had left it. Sure, her teenage years had called for a bit of renovation, but underneath posters of her favorite actors and boy bands are the youthful stickers Nan had put up when they had first arrived. 

She rummages through her closet, throwing old clothes in good condition into her donation basket. There are even some that were never worn, and she debates whether she’d be able to use any of it, but ultimately decides against it.  

The top shelf is full of empty shoe boxes and other things she had carelessly thrown up there. Her old sketchbook falls open, face down, at her feet. 

She picks it up and is greeted by the same sketch that had won her first prize in the art show all those years ago when she was fifteen. Her fingers graze over the pencil lines, and it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. She had spent months on this one drawing, and it had turned out to be her greatest piece to date (the actual painting is still being preserved at the school).

“You know, I always thought that boy looked like Anne’s boy,” Nan says nonchalantly. Y/n hadn’t even heard her come in. 

“What?” Y/n stares intently at the paper. “You think so?”

Ava practically skips in. “Oh, gossiping, are we?” She sounds just like Nan. Y/n can’t help the roll of her eyes. 

“I was just telling your sister about how that painting of hers up at the school looks a lot like Harry.”

“Is it not supposed to?” Ava seems genuinely confused. 

“I mean...it wasn’t actually based on anyone in particular,” Y/n says, feeling the need to defend herself. “It was just...something I envisioned in my head.” She turns back to her closet, leaving Nan and Ava to carry on their conversation on her bed. 

Reaching her arm up high, she feels around the shelf until she pokes something soft. When she brings it down, she can’t help but grin. Freddo. She had almost forgotten about him. After Harry had left, she had gone on a bit of a rampage, and any reminder of him had fallen victim to the trash or banishment to the top shelf.

Nan must notice her smile because she comes up and cradles her from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. “It’s funny,” she says, and Y/n looks back at her expectantly. “I also thought that you two would end up together, but I guess I was off by a bit, huh?” She kisses Y/n on the cheek and calls for Ava to follow her downstairs.

Y/n stares at the toy as though it held some sort of secret.

***

She’s lucky she’s home by herself––Jared is off at the pub for his and Sid’s weekly meet-up––because now she has time to unwind and be as antisocial as she wants. Work had been stressful, mostly because the exhibit is set to open next week. And really, all she wants is to be under her favorite blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and just be dead to the world.

Even though she thinks that, however, she can’t help but tap on her phone screen every few minutes. Sure, she likes the time alone, but she also likes being needed. Ava says it’s a control thing, but she really just prefers to be in the know. Lately, Penny’s been spamming her with messages and phone calls about the baby or sometimes it’ll be for a little reassurance. Of course, she’s more than happy to support her. It’s brave of Penny to tackle this alone. The baby’s father is completely out of bounds, so she’s told, and Penny says she’d rather her baby grow up with just a mother than in some dysfunctional setup.

Speaking of dysfunction, she hasn’t been able to properly think straight ever since her visit with Nan. What the elderly woman had told her hadn’t exactly shocked her, per say, but it did have her rethink some of the interactions between her and Harry. It’s ridiculous, really. They’d been best friends since she was eight and he was nine. They know each other’s ins and outs, likes and dislikes, what makes the other laugh and cry. They’re simply comfortable. 

Okay. Maybe there had been times where she thought that the possibility of something more was on the table, but that quickly proved to be all in her imagination. She had her boyfriends and he had his girlfriends. She fell in love with his cousin, and he dated her other best friend. Then he left town.

Then he left.

***

Abandoning her original plans for the night, Y/n finds herself at his door. 

“Hey,” he greets her, but his warm smile falters when he takes note of her appearance. “What’s with the look? Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, she’s too taken by the image of him and the way her heart feels like it might burst from her chest to comprise a full sentence. He doesn’t push her, though. He fishes into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a shapely object wrapped in purple foil. “I-uh, I don’t eat chocolate that much anymore, but they don’t have these in America, so I’ve been snacking on a few of these a week.” It lands itself in her hand. “Just like when we were kids, right?”

It’s a Freddo. A fucking Freddo. Her fingers curl around it.

“You once asked me if I thought that things should’ve been different,” she says. “What did you mean by that?”

Harry doesn’t answer. She tries again.

“Why did you leave, Harry?"

“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She takes one step closer. He evades her eyes, like he’s afraid they’ll speak on their own. Her stomach tightens because it’s all starting to make sense. His words. That embrace. These feelings that have always existed between them. “You left because of me.”

It’s not a question, but a sure statement. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She slides a hand up to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. When he finally does, she’s sees it. And her gut says it’s not the first time. 

It’s heartache. 

She knows because she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. It’s taken her this long to realize it. That hollow feeling that’s been consuming her, it disappeared the day Harry Styles walked back into her life. Once the anger over what he’d done had subsided, she’s felt nothing but joy since. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She wants to scream. 

“You made him happy,” is all he says, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t take that away from him.”

“So, you didn’t even consider how I felt? Harry, I would’ve...would’ve–”

“And that’s why I had to leave!” He wipes both hands down his face in frustration. “We would’ve ended up hurting two people we cared too much about.”

“You don’t know that–”

“If I had tried to kiss you that night, would you have let me?” His gaze bores into her. 

Yes. The voice within her screams it over and over. He must already know her answer because he just smiles sadly at the floor. This is why he had done it. He knew that if he had stayed any longer, it would have only been a matter of time before they gave into each other. 

It makes her sick. 

“I figured if I just took myself out the equation, the rest of you would be spared the heartbreak.” He sighs. “And it worked. You and Jared are about to start a life together, Penny’s got her baby. You’re happy.”

She wants to counter him, but she can’t find the strength. “What about you?” she whispers instead.

He tilts his head to the side. “I came back to prove to myself that I could be happy for you.” His jaw slackens, and he doesn’t continue.

She’s toe to toe with him. “And are you?”

The next thing she knows, her back is against the wall, and her fingers are tangled in his hair. His lips feed her, makes her blood come alive like she’s never lived until now. She kisses him with everything she has. Every drop of anger and every ounce of emotion that burns through her veins. His hands keep her body as close to his as possible, yet, they feel so gentle as they caress her curves like she’s made of glass. It feels so right.

And it shouldn’t. 

Just as sudden as it had started, she pushes him away. He doesn’t fight her. Without another word, she leaves his apartment.

*** When she makes it home, Jared is about to get ready for bed. She drops her clothes to the floor, and his soon follow. They fall onto the bed, his teeth gnawing down her jaw while his hand slides down to cup her heat. He asks her if she’s ready once his member is nudged against her opening. She nods, and he pushes into her, just as he’s done many times before.

She tries her best to focus on how good this should feel to have him inside of her, but the more he moves, the more she feels like this is all a mistake. It feels all too similar to when she had given him her virginity. It happened the night after Harry had skipped town. She was upset and wanted to feel something aside from the pain he had caused her. Jared had been there, and things had soon escalated. But it didn’t feel right. Her heart wasn’t in it, and so her body couldn’t give itself the relief it had been searching for.

It hasn’t felt like that since, or maybe she had gotten better at hiding it, just as she’s done with everything else. She had hoped that sex with Jared would put her mind and her heart back into perspective, but instead, she feels even more helpless.

One kiss with Harry had meant more to her than any of this. It fills her with shame because shouldn’t want to be with anyone except Jared, especially when all he’s ever done is love her. 

She doesn’t realize it’s over until he rolls off her with a content sigh, then stumbles into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, and it’s then she feels the tears start to fill the rim of her eyes. Her thighs clasp together as her humiliation fully sets in. She turns on her side and covers her naked body with the blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed. Jared returns minutes later, mumbling a goodnight. If he has something else to say, he doesn’t. It takes to the count of five for him to drift to sleep. 

***

“I need to cancel the engagement,” she says. Ava gives her a circumspect shrug of the shoulders, like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. Y/n turns to her, hands twiddling the fingers in her lap from stress. “What do you think I should do?”

Ava looks at her, the pity is obvious on her face. “I don’t know, sis.” She rubs her back. “Are you going to tell Jared about you and Harry?”

“I have to.”

***

She doesn’t have the opportunity to talk to Jared until the night of the exhibit opening since he’d been in Spain on a team trip. It’s eating her up, how she hasn’t told him yet, but at least by the end of today she’ll no longer be holding on to something so big. He had promised to come straight to the gallery once he landed back at Heathrow. His flight was set to get in two hours ago, so it’s only a matter of time now. 

More and more people are starting to fill the floor. Most are patrons whom she sees frequently at these events, but there are some new faces mixed in the crowd. She’s lucky that Ava and her grandparents are here to support her, especially when she’ll probably need them afterwards. 

“Hey, don’t look so nervous,” Nan tells her. “The place looks great. You know, I overheard that guy in the red Chanel that he’s interested in buying.” Bless her, Y/n thinks. Nan’s always had a way of diffusing the tension, even when she isn’t aware of it. 

“I’m happy you guys are here,” Y/n says, and she brings her friend in for a hug. 

Nan gives her a confused smile. “Of course, we’re here. We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she proudly declares, and she elbows Gramps in the ribs when he doesn’t contribute. “Honestly, try to look a little alive.”

“I put on a tie, didn’t I?” Gramps rolls his eyes, but then he sends Y/n a wink.  

“Where’s Penelope this evening?” Nan asks, scanning the room, brows furrowing. Y/n feels a sweat break out. She just hopes that Penny will understand when she finds out about her feelings for her ex-boyfriend. It’s been years, sure, but there has to be some kind of friendship code that prohibits this sort of thing. “And where’s that fiancé of yours? He should be here with you.”

“Probably just got stuck in traffic,” Y/n says, but honestly, she’s reveling the extra time she has to prepare.

Nan hooks arms with Ava and Gramps, and they walk the floor while Y/n greets a few of her guests. Her dad is one of them, no surprise there. He pecks her on the side of the head and lets out a perplexed sound as he gazes at all the art. 

“I feel like I should understand this kind of thing by now,” he muses, gesturing to the portrait of naked man made from duct tape and spoons. “Anything after 2003 is lost to me. I just don’t get it.”

“Are you proud of me?” Y/n shocks herself with the question.

Matthew looks stunned himself. “Why would you ask something like that? You know that I am.” He pulls her aside, so they have a little more privacy. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?” There’s worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she appeases, “I just wanted to hear it.” Her dad doesn’t respond but hugs her tight. They stay like that for a moment, she’s always felt safe in his arms, until she feels them loosen around her. She looks up at him, his look somewhere else. When she follows it, her heart skips a beat.

“Harry!” Matthew takes his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t seen you in a full two hours!” 

The younger man lets out a slight chuckle. “It’s been unbearable. I just can’t keep away.” He turns to her. “Congratulations.” 

A nod is all she can afford. 

Matthew looks between the two of them, and their situation feels almost familiar. He coughs into his hand and excuses himself as he chases a waiter down the west wing. 

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. 

She purses her lips to the side. There’s so much she wants to say to him, but she’s afraid of what she might do. 

Against her better judgement, she leads him into her office. She leaves the door open behind her in the off chance that things intensify. She doesn’t need any more guilt on her plate. (But she wishes he wasn’t wearing such a properly fit suit. It’s far too distracting for the seriousness of the situation.)

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, she waits for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was both our doing,” she stresses. If you asked her who had kissed who first, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. “We just...got caught up in the moment.” I let my heart dictate my actions.

He looks hurt by her words but doesn’t press her on it. “I should’ve stopped it. I always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you, and when it happened, I...” He shakes his head, and she’s thankful that he’ll never finish that sentence. She’s already heard it in her mind. Hearing out loud would cause both of them too much agony.

“I know,” she rasps. “I can’t stand here and say that I didn’t want it, but–”

“you don’t want to hurt him.” She smiles appreciatively, though, sadly. In another life, maybe they would have a chance. This one doesn’t have a place for them. Even if she ends things with Jared, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’re family. She could never start anything with Harry without him getting hurt. It’s a matter of acceptance now. 

This must have been what Harry had been feeling when he had left. As much as it hurts to remember, she thinks she at least understands it better. 

“I need air,” she says, not wanting to entertain those thoughts further, “join me?” She grabs her phone from her desk. It’s getting late, and she’s starting to worry about Jared. 

They leave her office and start towards the back door that some of her staff use when they want a smoke. She usually avoids it for that reason, but it was getting too stuffy in there. Her lungs will forgive her if she takes this one moment to herself. Her screen unlocks, and just as she’s about to press on her fiancé’s name, Harry pushes the door open and she looks up as the evening breeze brushes her face and then...

“What the hell is this?” She drops her phone to the ground. 

Jared and Penny pull away from each other, but the space between them is nearly nonexistent. The latter meets her with scared eyes that soon begin to fill up. One hand covers her mouth as she chokes on a sob or maybe even fear, while the other clasps over her swollen belly. Y/n’s eyes drift down to it. It clicks. 

“Y/n...” Jared starts, he’s breathing heavily. “Let me–”

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me his name,” she says shakily. It’s directed at Penelope. “You couldn’t tell me because it was him.” The night Penelope had come over unannounced after her alleged date cancellation at the same time Jared had cancelled his own plans. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing.” And that’s exactly what she had done, and right under her nose. They’d have been sneaking around behind her back for months.

“We d-didn’t mean for it to get this far...” Penny tries to explain, she steps out from behind Jared’s shadow. The usually confident blonde has lost several inches of height. She says something else, but it’s like Y/n’s just drowned out all the noise. Her eyes still haven’t left Penelope’s stomach. 

She wants to hate her. She should hate her. But she’s just an innocent victim caught in her parents’ web of lies. Then she grits her teeth at Jared. How far he’s fallen from the pedestal she’d put him on. Now she’s certain that she had inflated his image in her spiraling guilt for having feelings for another man. To think that only minutes ago she was about to plead for his forgiveness for kissing Harry, when all this time he’d been fucking her closest friend. 

“Jared,” his name weighs like venom on her tongue, “I want you out of the apartment by tonight.”

She just runs. Down the alleyway, ignoring all the calls of her name behind her. Harry’s voice is by far the loudest. There’s a thud, followed by a scream. However tempted she is to look back, her legs have developed a mind of their own and lead her towards the busy sidewalk. The bright streetlights burn her eyes, but she doesn’t stop.

She keeps going until she finds the first empty cab. Getting in without a second to hesitate, she closes the door and tells the man behind the wheel to just go. 

“Where to?” he asks her. Her first instinct is to go home and lock herself in her room, but she realizes that she’ll probably have to confront Jared again, and that’s not going to happen. Her second and third options are still at the gallery, completely oblivious to all the night’s revelations. There’s just one other person on that list, so Y/n gives the driver the address. 

***

It takes less than twenty minutes for her to end up in front of a building with bright blue doors and window panels to match. She climbs the steps, one wobbly footstep at a time, but only hesitating once. Her knuckles curl at her sides, until lifting them up to knock against the heavy wood. Light from inside peeks through the curtains.

A woman appears in the open threshold, that faint light from inside creating a halo around her figure. She looks unreal, like something straight out of a storybook. Her ethereal face just as kind as Y/n remembers. It’s the most immaculate she’s ever been. 

Y/n feels herself lose the battle with the emotions she had managed to keep on leash from just one look from her. 

With a whimper, her mouth struggle with the words. “Hi, Mum.”

***

Grace sets her up in the guest room and supplies her with a cup of tea and biscuits. As she’s setting it down on the bedside table, Y/n can’t help but take note of her appearance. It’s been nearly twenty years since she had last seen her mother, but why is that she’s never looked younger? Her eyes no longer have the eternal vacancy that had highlighted her once slack expression. 

She looks happy. 

“Thank god I did the shopping earlier this week, huh?” Grace muses, opening up a new pack of biscuits. Each word to leave her lips feels smooth against her ears. “I’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth in my old age.” Y/n doesn’t know if she appreciates her efforts to make conversation, but it does give her time to think about what exactly she wants to say. 

They drink their tea in hushed sips, like they’re afraid that any loud slurping might cause some offence. Y/n stares down into the contents of her cup, annoyed that it’s the perfect color. A part of her had wished that she could find something to fault her with. 

“So,” Grace hums, tapping melodically on the porcelain in her hands. “You want to tell me why you’re here?”

Y/n barely lifts her head as her hands strangle the air with frustrated rigidness. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to become you.” From her decision to follow her dad’s wishes, to keeping appearances for a relationship that she now knows was destined for destruction, she’d made every choice for everyone else. 

Grace doesn’t respond, but her mouth parts with a staggered breath. 

“I wanted to believe that I was happy. I wanted to do what you never did because I didn’t want to hurt the people I was supposed to love.” All the years she’d never confronted these feelings have ultimately resulted to this. “You broke us,” she says, staring her directly in the eyes. “You ruined every image I had of love.” The anxiousness that had put her through hell had to come from this. The truth is, she couldn’t break it off with Jared because she didn’t want to hurt him in the same way that her mother had hurt her dad. That’s it. She ignored every gut feeling that told her it wasn’t right because of the bitterness she felt towards her mother.   

“The choices we make aren’t genetic,” Grace says softly.

“Aren’t they, though?” she shrieks. She bounces to her feet and paces in front of the bed. “Penelope’s mother was the other woman, and now Penelope is pregnant with my fiancé’s baby! You ran away from your family because you couldn’t forget him.” 

By that, she means her mother’s new husband, the one she had left them for. It had been during her last year at university that Y/n had discovered the truth. He had been her professor for her art history class. She recognized him from a picture she had once seen in her mother’s jewelry box. She just hadn’t put two and two together until then. “And I...I can’t forget the person I’ve loved since I was eight. What makes us different, Mum?”

Grace holds her chin close to her body. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But tell me this. Why haven’t you planned your wedding?”

This causes Y/n’s pacing to cease. She stands at her mother’s knees, blinking rapidly. “How would you know anything that goes on with me?”

Her mother stands up as well. They’re about the same height.  

“I know it’ll make never make up for what I did but believe me. I’ve never stopped trying to be in your lives...even if it was from afar.” Her hand is shaking as she reaches up to cup Y/n’s cheek so she can wipe away her tears. “I was there when you won all your art shows back in school. I was there when you graduated university.” She’s crying her own tears now. “And I was excited for you when you got engaged three years ago.” 

Y/n doesn’t let herself give in. She pulls away. “It was supposed to be a long engagement.”

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Grace looks at her pointedly. Y/n’s bottom lip starts to quiver. Her mother grasps her by the shoulders. “Maybe that’s what makes you different from me. You stopped pretending before it was too late, you just hadn’t realized it.”

“Is that supposed to make me a good person?” Y/n challenges. 

“No,” Grace answers honestly, but she sighs with a small smile. “But it makes you a better person than me.”

***

She doesn’t recall ever falling asleep, but she can still feel her mother’s hand stroking her hair as she had laid her head on the pillow. The morning sun shines through the curtains of the unfamiliar room and greet her with slithers of light by her feet. Waking up here feels strange, but she’s experienced comfort that she hasn’t felt in so long.

The rug-lined steps make little to no sound as she makes her way downstairs. From the bottom, she can hear two voices talking in hushed tones from the kitchen. One is unmistakably her mothers, while the other is deep and manly. She isn’t sure how to make approach them, suddenly feeling self-conscious for having intruded. But soon enough, her mum catches sight of her and invites her to take the stool beside her. Y/n walks in, passing her mother’s husband, who smiles kindly at her. She had liked him as a professor before she had found about his private life.

“Good morning,” Grace says. “Lawrence’s just been to the bakery.” She pushes a box full of a variety of goodies. “Eat as much as you want.”

Y/n picks up a croissant and gingerly pulls it apart. She avoids how her mother and her husband gage in her every movement. 

“Did you sleep well?” It’s Lawrence who asks her. She nods. Lawrence and her mother share a look, and through their eyes they seem to converse. It reminds her a lot of how she and Harry had always been able to tell what the other was thinking without having to verbalize. Lawrence finishes up his cup of coffee, then circles around the island and kisses his wife on the cheek. “I’m just going to pop to the store,” he says. She catches the back of his head before he disappears. 

“I thought you said you had just done the shopping?” Y/n asks her mother. The older woman shrugs, continuing to pick at her breakfast. Oh. She sees that there’s apparently more to talk about. Y/n does in fact have a few more questions she wants to ask, if anything more than to talk to someone who knows what she’s going through. She takes a deep breath. “Are you happy?” The words feel awkward as they leave her mouth. Grace looks at her, questioningly. She nods towards the door. “With him?”

“Yes.” 

Y/n’s heart breaks for her father. 

“He’s my best friend,” Grace says dreamily. “I’ve known him all my life. Loved him about the same.” Y/n feels goosebumps startle her skin.

“So,” Y/n treads cautiously, “was he worth it?”

“There are things that I would have done differently when it came to you and your sister, given the chance,” her mother sighs, but when she looks at her with those eyes that are so full of light and what she guesses must only be love, Y/n gets it. “But otherwise I’d choose him all over again.”

***

She knocks impulsively on his front door, not caring if his new neighbors think she’s out of her mind insane. Her limbs are tight with anticipation, especially when she hears the scuffle of feet against well-polished hardwood. Harry stands in the open doorway dressed in a white t-shirt and black joggers, and an adorably confused look floating in his sleepy eyes. But when he registers her before him, it’s like he’d been hit by lightning and suddenly jolted awake.

“Has anything changed?” she asks, almost pleadingly. He just stares at her, frustrating her already exhausted nerves. She hadn’t come all this way after a rollercoaster of a night to not get an answer. “Am I...Am I still all that’s in...” And rests her hand where his heart is.

Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.” 

And no words have ever made her cry out of shear joy. She laughs, or maybe it’s more of a wet giggle, before throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a scorching kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this one is filled solely with everything they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel. He nips on her bottom lip, and her mouth parts and welcomes his tongue to explore every unchartered inch. He grasps her both her thighs and carries her to his bedroom. 

She can’t believe she’s gone this long without knowing his touch. Every movement of against her skin, and every exploration of forbidden pleasure makes her stomach coil and beg for more. He lays her down on his bed, his body hovering over hers like he’s afraid she might slip away. 

He leans in a little lower, and she gasps when she feels him hard against her hip. “We don’t have to do anything,” he gulps, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that–” but he doesn’t get to finish because she shuts him up with the fire in her eyes. She loves him for everything he is, even when he’s being selfless to a fault. 

“We’ve waited too long for this,” she breathes against his lips. “Let’s choose us.” 

A low throaty moan surges from of her as he grinds himself against her, sending currents of electrifying energy down to her aching entrance. Her mind becomes cloudier with his every caress. His hot breath against her longing flesh only intensifies her need.

“Please,” she begs, fingers working on the hem of his shirt. “I want you. God, please I want to feel you.” 

He chuckles softly as she whines, pecking her again. “Patience, love,” he teases. His lips glide down to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her inflamed body. “Show me where you want me.” 

Taking reign of his hand and guiding down the front of her front, she smirks at him. His pants become unbelievably tight as she lets him linger over her chest, her head falling back when the warmth of his hand flicks over her pebbled nipple. “You want me between your pretty little tits? Is that what my girl wants?” His girl. Nothing in this moment could sound so perfect than the words to have just left his lips. It’s enough for her to want to bring him in for another impassioned kiss, but she restrains, shaking her head mischievously as he squeezes gently on her breast. She leads him further down, his palm sliding down her abdomen. 

“Here.” She slots her fingers through the spaces between his and their tips graze the base of her dress, toying with the flimsy material until finally slipping beneath. He groans as his skin comes into contact with her pussy emanating all that delicious heat.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She rubs against him just enough for him to feel her center through her panties, and he swears to her that he might come then and there. Wasting no time, she pulls his shirt over her head, only breaking their kiss to appreciate all the tattoos on his sculpted chest. When she’d seen them before, it had only been for a quick few seconds, and she’d been far too flustered to take anything more than a peek. But now she can’t help herself, and she lets her fingers dance across the ink, the point of her nails tracing over the edge of every design. She spends the most time on the moth, or maybe it’s a butterfly, she couldn’t say. 

All she knows is that something about it makes her feel at peace, like she’ll always be safe as long as he's there beside her. She tears her eyes away from his chest to find him looking at her as though she were everything that’s right with the world. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and she just beams, eyes looking back at him with such sincerity. 

He kisses the side of her mouth before descending along her body He takes his time, his lips pressing over every possible inch of her, leaving no surface neglected. Where his hands had been prior, he takes an erect mound in his mouth, tongue swirling around in through its covering. Each touch leaves her breathless, her back arching in intense anticipation the further down he goes. When his nose nudges at the bottom of her skirt, she lets out another frustrated whine, and he chuckles softly at how her abdomen sucks in as the stubble on his chin prickles goosebumps across her skin. 

“Please, just. . .” and the final remains of her inhibitions drain from the tips of her fingers and toes. “I want your cock inside me.” 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” And he tears her dress from her body and pulls her panties down her silky legs, leaving her completely bare before his eyes. From a pale green, the color of his irises darkens with a fierce and pounding desire. It sends vibrations down to her pussy and all she wants is for him to bury his face in her dripping arousal. She bites harshly on her lip once he licks between her slick folds. “So sweet,” he mutters, his lips slipping through the barriers to find her sensitive little nub. “I could just stay here forever.”

“Harry. . .” she gasps, fisting the sheets as her hips lift off the mattress. “It feels so good.” Her legs hang over his shoulders as he encourages her to ride his face until she’s begging to release all over his tongue. “Oh god, don’t stop.” 

One of his long fingers that had been drawing small little circles on the inner part of her thigh smooths over her damp skin until it forges its way into her glistening heat. The other hand moves down his own figure, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding past the waistband of his boxers. 

As the knot in her stomach twists with tremendous force, it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. He inserts another finger, the two digits piston in and out of her, working harmoniously with his skilled mouth. She screams out, her back arching to an almost impossible degree. It all becomes too much for her, bursts of light flashing behind her eyelids.  

“I’m gonna come,” she moans, cheek pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut tightly to welcome the stars as she lets go with cacophonous convulsions. 

“That’s my good girl, come all over my tongue. That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He climbs back up her body, a content smile awaiting him when their faces become level with each other. Another exchange of ardent kisses, and she feels herself tingle at the taste of her on his lips. Even after her orgasm, she already craves for another, but this time she wants nothing more but to feel him stuffed inside of her. She wraps a leg around his hip, the edge of her foot pressed against the side of his ass as she presses her core into his bulge. 

“I need to be inside of you.” He leaps off the bed to push off the last pieces of constrictive clothing. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip and just desperate for her amorous touch. 

And he’s big, she had always had an inkling, but to see it in the flesh is a whole new sensation quivering between her thighs. “It’s so big,” her thoughts become vocalized. 

With his knees back onto the bed, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down lower, his elbows planking on either side of her. “Feel how hard I am for you?” He hisses as her warm hand wraps around him, her thumb swiping along a dribble of precum. She lathers him in his own arousal. “Think you can handle my cock?” 

She’s completely in awe, and her mind runs untamed with fantasies of how it would feel hitting that special spot deep in her cunt, every rigid vein carving its impression in her walls. “You know I can,” she dares him. 

“Fuck.” He kisses her deeply, his hand taking ahold of his cock and glazing it with the remnants of her last climax and gliding just between her wet folds.  “One last time–” he swallows hard as he pulls away from his lips, “–are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I...”

Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding worth more than any spoken language as she cups his cheeks. 

The entire length of him slides into her tight hole until he bottoms out, his balls pressing against her taut ass. She feels undeniably full, never having experienced such exhilaration in her life as Harry’s bare cock stretches her out completely. 

“Just slid right in,” he grunts, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. He bites down and sucks greedily on the spot until he’s made his mark. She gasps in mild pain, but it feels too good to know that she can finally be his. He pulls all the way out, before slamming back in with ease, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her walls flutter around him. “It feels like you were made for me” She feels marvelously tight, squeezing him for all he’s worth. All she can do is nod, her voice caught in her throat as his thrusts become harder and faster.  “It’s all mine now, your pussy, your lips. You’re all mine.” 

“I’m yours, all yours, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “God, your big cock feels so good in my tight pussy.” Nails dig into his back as they run down and carve crescents into his flexed and sweaty muscles. 

They move flawlessly in sync as she rises up to greet his every thrust with just as much excitement and fervor. Both their bodies are on fire, a pressure building up at their very core and threatening to unravel at any moment. His balls tighten, and he knows he won’t last for much longer. He looks down between them, his cock completely soaked with her with the most sinful sounds resonating whenever he pushes in and out of her delightful heat. “I love you,” he breathes into her ear, his fingers indenting into the plush of her hips. He loses any sense of rhythm he might have started out with, his movements becoming more and more urgent as he chases after his high. 

“I love you.” Her second orgasm fast approaches, she feels it thrill every one of her nerves as though currents of electricity were running through her veins. She’s so close, and her hand slips between their sweaty chests to rub desperately on her clit. Her head is spinning with an aspiration to reach the brink of ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock,” he pleads as he pushes into her with incredible force. “Want to feel you come around me.”

And that’s it for her. A wave of pleasure crashes over her and she cries out with a high-pitched moan. Her legs hugging him so tightly that he barely manages to move. She rides it out, rolling her hips to feel him continuously poke that special spot. Soon enough, her mind is on a cloud, the rest of her body soaking up the bliss of the moment.

His movements only become more erratic, and the breath leaves her body once he releases inside of her. Hot white ribbons shoot out and paint her walls with the image of a sensational love. It warms her center, her lips turning up in a lazy smile as he remains within her even after the final drop has left his tip. Once they’re heaving chests calm to a natural pace, he collapses on top of her, arms willing their way between her and the mattress to gather her into a tender embrace. She scratches the back of his head and sighs contently.  

“To think we could’ve been doing that for,” and she counts the years on each one of her fingers.

Harry chuckles in between her breasts, then reaches up and plants a quick but sweet kiss to her lips. “How long are you going to be holding onto that one?” She pretends to think, her mouth quirking to the side as her brows furrow in contemplation. “Until we make up for all that wasted time.” 

***

“I got you something.” She looks up at him, her body still wrapped in his arms as they lay naked in his bed. Memories of what feels like another life flip through her head.

“Is this what déjà vu feels like?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?” 

Smiling, she kisses enthusiastically and nods her head. He gets up, and she has to stop herself from frowning when they lose all contact. She sinks into the sheets and waits impatiently for him to come back. Listening to him rummage through his closet, then to the growling of her tummy–and she makes a quick mental note to ask him to order something for them in a while––she tries to relive every detail from the last few hours in her head. She didn’t know that sex was supposed to feel so good.

“You told me that you hadn’t drawn in almost ten years,” he states, making his way back to the bed, but this time, with a bag clutched in his hands. He places it in her lap, then slips between her and the headboard, arms going back to their initial position. “Maybe it’s time you started back up.”

Y/n opens the enclosed wrappings. Inside the bag is a new sketchbook and a carton of 9H pencils. She carefully grazes her fingers above them. There’s a feeling in her chest, like she’s just been reunited with an old friend. 

“But what would I even draw?” She’d lost all sight of that part of her life, and it seems unlikely that those creative juices will just come trickling back to her now. 

Harry kisses the side of her head, and she leans into him easily.

“Whatever inspires you.” 

It’s just that easy. She closes her eyes and reflects on what has always made her feel any bit positive. Ava and her bluntness; her dad and his sense of duty to his family; Nan and Gramps and their playful bickering; Nan and her proclivity for gossip; Gramps and his hatred for ties. All of them had been a comfort to her, even when she hadn’t realized it. They were part of what had kept her afloat.

Feeling Harry’s heartbeat press up against her back, she knows that she’ll never have to worry about drowning. She opens her sketchbook to its first clean page and lets herself be happy. 

***

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Jared says, offering her a modest grin. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to.” Penny nods beside him. Jared had texted her and asked if she would meet them for lunch, so that they could talk. At first, Y/n didn’t think that necessary. What was the point when it was all out in the open now? But with some convincing from Harry, she realized that she had to confront this.

“There’s no moving on if we don’t talk about it.” Y/n takes the seat across from Penny. She looks at the girl she’d consider a sister, studying her rounded and healthier features. Pregnancy looks good on her. “You look good.” 

Penny smiles thankfully. “So do you.”

They talk about everything, even the stuff that feels like it should hurt. But it doesn’t. Clarity exists where it hadn’t before. She tells them that about Harry, and apparently it isn’t much of a shock to anyone, which shocks her. Jared then admits to having had all these doubts about their relationship but had stuck through it because of his own insecurities. That had had hit close to home for Y/n. It’s somewhat of a relief that she hadn’t been the only one who felt that what they had was temperamental. 

“You were there for me when I was at my worst, and for that, I’ll always love you,” Jared sighs, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “But...”

“That’s all we were meant to be.”

He nods sadly, pulling back. His other arm is around Penny’s chair, and Y/n can see his fingers playing with the ends of her ponytail. 

Penny must notice this, and she quickly shrugs him away. “Sorry,” she mutters.  

Y/n shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she waves it off. “This was good. At least now we can all carry on with our lives.” She gets out of her chair. “Good luck,” she says to the both of them. Then she looks directly at Penny. “I know you’re worried about making all the same mistakes as your mum, but...” she smiles, “someone said to me that mistakes aren’t genetic. I know you. And I know how much you love your baby. Just promise me you’ll be there for her.”

With that she turns towards the exit. Before she can get far, however, she feels a hand grab her own. She looks back, and it’s Penny. Her eyes are teary, and her chest lifts erratically. “Do you think that...” she swallows, “...that you’ll ever forgive me?”

“Do I still get to be called auntie?” 

Penny lets out a stifled giggle. “Yes.”

Y/n touches her comfortingly on the shoulder. “Then, one day.”

She walks out of there feeling completely at peace with herself.

***

Two Years Later

The newest exhibit proves to be a hit. It’s smaller than its predecessors, this time only containing the work from a single artist. 

She and Harry walk hand-in-hand, greeting all of guests and just enjoying each other’s company. Gramps isn’t moping as much as he usually does, and she thinks it’s because Nan’s bought him a clip-on tie that doesn’t strangle him around the neck. Ava and Nan are gossiping with some potential investors, while her dad tries to apologize on their behalf. 

On the other side, her mum and Lawrence discuss color theory in relation to one of the spotlight pieces. She catches a glimpse of the civility between her parents when they catch each other’s eyes from across the room. 

“I think it’s the gallery’s best showcase yet,” Harry tells her and kisses her on the lips. “Really, I don’t see how anything might top this.”

Y/n laughs. “You’re just trying to get laid.”

Harry wags his eyebrows. “Is it working?” She doesn’t need to give him an answer with words, so instead, she pulls him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips meet in another sweet kiss. 

They stop in front of the piece in the very back, the one that’s drawn in the most viewers. They squeeze through the polluted crowd until they’re close enough to the front. He wraps his arms around her, and they both admire its beauty. 

Two kids laid out on the grass; eyes closed with content smiles on their faces. The sky above them, a product of their combined imaginations as well as the excitement of hopes and dreams. 

Below the canvas is a placcard with the painting’s information. 

Y/n Styles, Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies.

***

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

#harry styles #harry style imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles au #one direction #writing

[bill-y]

𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐑𝐄

Peeta mellark x male reader

We all know who Katniss Everdeen is, but what if Primrose hadn’t been chosen but another boy from another unfortunate family? YOUR family.

Info: This is basically a reader insert and I’ve changed a few rules, not ground breaking though. The reader is a bit bland for now but I plan for his actions to be different. Because he has different moral grounds from Katniss and such. Would appreciate feedback! FEEL FREE TO POINT OUT TYPOS. GRAMMARLY SOMETIMES DOESN’T DO MY DYSLEXIC ASS JUSTICE

Part one: Over there, buddy

Part two:You’re here right now. :)

Part three: Click here, pepperoni salami.

Wattpad account: L0calxDumbass

I separated with Gale and Katniss for a while, telling them I needed air. I sighed, leaping from branch to branch in the thicket of trees. Bread, not just bread, baker's bread. If I'm lucky I could get just enough squirrels for the baker, he had a taste for it but his wife was much of a witch, so he only buys it when she's not around.

I remembered how she found me stealing some burnt bread from the trashcan. I looked at her with wide eyes, frozen, I thought I was going to die, stealing was punishable for death, after all. But she just let me go, screaming about her frustration of Seams picking through her trash.

I got bread that day either way.

I landed on a sturdy branch, spotting a squirrel on the tree adjacent to me; it was quite huge, I'm sure he'd love this. Let's just hope the witch isn't home by the time I give this to him.

I crouched down, still as a statue as I watched the squirrel run up and down the tree. I pulled out the thin, glistening dagger, unwrapping its course, leather bindings, which became a makeshift thin rope. I felt my eyes unconsciously widen,  watching the squirrel's movements.

My arm aimed, then with a simple flick, the dagger whistled through the air. The small creature was then pinned to the bark of the tree through its eyes. The dagger's blade was thin enough to not damage anything when aimed right.

I pulled on the rope, the blade coming back, dragging the animal carcass with it. A small smile tugged on my face, I can get bread.

Kunal was surely panicking, he was the type to worry about the smallest of things. He once stepped on a cat's tail, Buttercup, Primrose's cat and he bawled, nobody could calm him down. Until he was offered food, that is.

I chuckled at the memory, slowly pulling the blade off the head of the squirrel. I held it in my hands victoriously, a grin on my face. I whistled a small 3 tone song, the chirping mocking birds falling silent before they imitated the tone.

After meeting up, we went back home, passing by the Hob. It was sort of a black market, where coals are transported directly to trains. I disliked it here, the amount of coal dust always bothered me, so when I come here I tend to cover my nose.

We managed to trade six of the fish for good bread, the other two for some salt. The lady who sells soup, the one that always glares at me because I've insulted her soup on multiple occasions, Greasy Sae: took half the greens we gathered, along with the dead dog meat that she calls "beef".

That's why I hate her soups, though it's not like I have much of an option, we can't afford luxury here. Unlike those obnoxious, entitled, privileged people in the Capitol. My jaw clenched at the mere thought of those scums.

We finish our business on the market, so we went to the mayor's house, who was particularly fond of strawberries. We knocked on the back door, his daughter, Madge opening it for us.

She's in Katniss and I's year sits beside us at almost every event because we don't really have groups of friends. For being the mayor's daughter you'd expect her to be an entitled brat or maybe a snob, but she was alright, she kept to herself.

I like that, I hate noisy people, They'll scare away the game, that and I've never really liked loud noises. I still remember the explosions in the mines, it was traumatizing, even though my father didn't meet death there. I really wished he had.

Madge didn't wear her usual attire, instead, she wore an expensive white dress, her blonde hair up with a pink ribbon. Reaping clothes. I felt my face scrunch up, that day was supposed to be a form of celebration. It's more of a way for the capitol to show who's in control.

We were being punished for the crimes of the people who failed, disguised as some form of celebration. It's disgusting.

"Pretty dress," Gale complimented. Madge shoots him a look, trying to see if it's genuine or if he was just being ironic. It was a pretty dress, but it was a waste.

She smiled, "Well, if I'm going to the Capitol, I want to look nice, don't I?"

I clenched my jaw, "But you won't be going to the Capitol," I said coolly, my voice monotone. My eyes landed on a small, circular pin on her dress. Real gold. The testament to the fact that she probably won't be chosen. "You probably have five entries, compared to us, that's a blessing."

"That's not her fault," Katniss said. Madge looked slightly hurt, probably because I've never really spoken my thoughts to her, I try my best to be polite when she engages a conversation with me.

"I know," I responded plainly. Madge smiled towards me, though it was clear it wasn't exactly genuine. She then handed the money for the berries. She looked towards Katniss "Good luck, Katniss"

"You too," She responded.

We walked toward the Seam, I can't help but feel angry. Her? Going to the Capitol? What a joke. When you're twelve your name gets put in the pile once, thirteen twice then so on. Up until your eighteen, where your name is entered seven times.

But the thing is, the rich have an advantage. You can enter your name willingly in the pile when you're starving in exchange for some tesserae. I had been doing this since I was twelve, having entered my name 3 times, for my mother, brother and myself.  Every year following suite, it has always been like this.

Now at the age of 16, I've entered my name twenty times, same with Katniss. Gale was in even greater danger, with a number of forty-two.

And she'll be the tribute this year? It can happen but it's deadly slim. I knew Gale felt the same way, listening to him rant about tesserae in the woods with Katniss was enough confirmation, along with the fact that I join in on the rants. Always end it with a promise to destroy the Capitol, somehow.

But what good does that do us?

Gale, Katniss and I divide our spoils, though it wasn't really the evenest distribution.  Gale got more, understandably since he has more mouths to feed.

"See you guys in the square," Katniss said, Gale nodded, "Wear something pretty," he joked.

I decided to stop by the bakery, by then the witch should be home but I took my chances. There was Mr Mellark, sitting outside, watching the pigs. He saw me from the corner of his eye, he grinned. "Greyback!' he called.

"Mr Mellark, still up for some squirrel?" I ask, holding the fat one up. He nodded, "You're lucky my wife isn't here, yet. Hold on, I'll get the bread for Kunal," he said, rushing inside.

I walked to the backdoor of the bakery so that he wouldn't trouble himself that much. I waited awkwardly outside, looking at a small bird fluttering about. I whistled, holding my finger out.

The bird landed on my finger, making me smile. From the corner of my eye, I saw a boy, blonde, stocky. Could probably kill me, if I'm being honest. Even though I was fast, I wasn't strong.

Soon enough, the bird flew away with the arrival of the baker, with a loaf of sweet, savoury bread, hot from the oven. "Here you go, Greyback."

I nodded, handing him the squirrel. "Oh!" he hummed, "Have you met my son, Peeta?" he asked, a smile on his face, "You're in the same year, yes?"

I didn't know what to say. Sure, I know him but I don't know that well him that well. My eyes travelled to the boy, who simply waved and briskly walked away. "I don't think so," I answered.

"I better be going, Mr Mellark. Nal needs his favourite bread after all," I said, flashing a small smile before I left. A small pit of dread boiled in my stomach, something bad is going to happen.

But then again, it's Reaping day, nothing good ever happens.

Word count: 1.3k

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@nin3s

:)))

#peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark x male reader #peetamellark #hunger games x reader #hunger games x male reader #hunger games #male x male reader #male reader #x male reader #katniss everdeen #gale #male reader insert #gale hawthorne #Katiniss #Hunger games x reader #what the fuck is tumblr's layout i am so fucking confused.

[definitelyseven]

risky business | two

summary: you were hired to be with everyone else but Park Jinyoung

one (m) | two | three |

six months later

You wrapped the silk robe around your body, tying a small knot in the front as you walked downstairs. From a distance, you see a figure sitting by the kitchen island. 

“Jinyoung?” you called as you made out his figure. 

“Oh is someone upstairs?” he asked, afraid you had company tonight. 

You shook your head, “What the hell are you doing here?”

“This is my condo,” he reminded you as he laid his head on the counter.

“No you said I can stay here if I had one of my appointments,” you said. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” He groans, gently bumping his forehead on the counter over and over again. “Jinyoung! I booked you a table at the most expensive restaurant in the city, the nicest suite in the biggest hotel on Valentines Day. What happened?” you asked.

“I was getting annoyed,” he complained. “So I left.”

“You can’t leave just because you’re annoyed! Do you know how hard it was to get a table today? Do you know what kind of mess you’ll be leaving me?” 

Over these last few months you and Jinyoung have gotten close, especially after that night. You were getting better and better at your job. 

“She’ll be fine. I gave her my credit card,” he whined, making you roll your eyes. “I didn’t see Mr. Jeong’s car in the driveway. Where is he?” 

“Mr. Jeong is married and needs to be with his wife on Valentines Day. Mr. Kim, though - he’s single,” you smirked. 

“Who’s Mr. Kim?”

“My next target,” you revealed. “I’ve done my research and I think he’ll be the best investor for Park Real Estate.”

“How come I didn’t know he’s your next target?” he asked, raising his eyebrow. 

You chuckle at him. “I’m getting better at my job, don’t you think?” This time it was Jinyoung’s turn to roll his eyes at you. He makes his way towards you, trapping you in between his arms and the counter.

“If he’s your new target then why isn’t he here?” he says through his teeth. 

“He’s single but has a very needy daughter,” you tell him, turning around to face him. “One call and he ran back to her arms.”

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous of his daughter,” Jinyoung teased, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“I can only pretend,” you whispered, leaning in towards his face. Jinyoung flashes a smile at you before leaning in to kiss you. You instantly kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. He lifts you up onto the counter as he deepens the kiss.

There’s no doubt that you and Jinyoung’s relationship was complicated. You worked for him but he didn’t necessarily treat you like the rest of his staff. You were more than that to him. You were “special.” But no matter how special you were to him, he would never be caught walking out in public with you. 

You slowly pulled away from the kiss. “I haven’t eaten yet,” you whispered against his lips. “I’m hungry,” you revealed, earning a laugh from him. 

“What should I make you?” he offered, rubbing his nose against yours. 

“You cook?” you asked, surprised. 

He scoffed, pretending that he was hurt by your words. “I know how to make a delicious ramen,” he teased. You laugh at him while nodding. You watched him carefully as he prepared the ramen - dropping the instant ramen into a pot of hot water and stirring it. “The secret is the egg,” he said proudly, making you giggle. He chuckles at his own joke. “Come on. It’s almost ready,” he tells you as he helps you off the counter. Jinyoung pulls your body against his as soon as your feet land on the floor. He leans down immediately planting a kiss on your lips, making you giggle. 

You sat down on the couch and waited for Jinyoung to bring the ramen over. He sets the bowl on the coffee table and you immediately smelled the deliciousness. “I’m impressed,” you tell him as you moved closer to the table. 

“Try it,” Jinyoung says taking a seat next to you and instantly pulling you on his lap. You slurped some noodles into your mouth.

“Mhmmm,” you exaggerated. Jinyoung opens his mouth, signaling you to give him some noodles. You brought the chopsticks up to his lips and watched him slurp up the noodles.

“Shit I did good,” he joked making you laugh. "Let me,” he said as he takes the pair of chopsticks out of your hand. He brings the noodles up to your lips to take another bite occasionally wiping the soup off the corner of your lips. “How do you like it?”

Before you can respond, your phone rings. “Hello?”

“Unnie, where are you? There’s a bunch of men downstairs looking for father. I’m scared,” she cried.

“Wonyoung, listen to me. Lock the door to your room and don’t come out unless you hear me. I’ll be right there,” you promised her. You quickly hung up and got off Jinyoung’s lap. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“I'll take you,” he offers. He holds your hand the entire car ride home. “Don’t worry,” he gives your hand a light squeeze before bringing it up to his lips. 

“We’re here. Thank you. I’ll call you tomorrow,” you tell him before rushing out of the car. You run inside your house and see your father on his knees. Your house was a mess. 

“Who the hell are you people?” you asked even when you knew who they were.

“This must be your eldest daughter. She’s pretty,” the angry man, smirked. “Your father owes us $200,000.”

“W-what?” you glared at your father. “How could you? We don’t have that kind of money!” 

“Don’t lie to me!” the man spatted. “Look at the purse you’re carrying - that’s easily worth $10,000.” You looked down at the purse Jinyoung got you. 

You scoffed before dumping everything out of your bag. “Take it. There’s two more like this upstairs but that’s all I have,” you said with tears in your eyes. “You’ve practically searched everywhere, you should know I’m not lying.”

“That won’t do,” he said shaking his head. “That won’t do!” he repeated, slamming his hand on the table, making you jump. He walks up to you, scanning you up and down. “Is your little sister upstairs? I heard she’s pretty too,” he smirked again.

“If you touch her, I will kill you.”

He wasn’t scared though. He only laughed at your words. “I’d like to see you try baby,” he said reaching for your chin. You quickly moved away from his filthy hands. 

“Don’t touch me,” you said sternly. “What do you want?”

“I want my money,” he said through his teeth. “Or you can give me your body. I bet I can sell you for a lot of money,” he whispers as his hands wander all over your body. 

“She’s more than what her father owes,” Jinyoung said as he enters your house.

“Jinyoung, no. Don’t get involved,” you warned him.

“Is that so? And exactly how much is she worth?” he said getting in Jinyoung’s face. 

Jinyoung scoffs and pulls a check out of his pocket. “More than your pathetic little life. Here’s your $200,000. Leave,” he demanded.

“Jinyoung-” you called his name before getting interrupted. 

“This is your last chance to take your money and leave. If I have to tell you again, you’ll be walking away with nothing.” 

The man glances down at the check and then at Jinyoung. He hesitates for a moment before grabbing the check and instructing his men to leave. You let out a sigh of relief as soon as the last man leaves your house. You immediately rushed upstairs to check on Wonyoung. 

“Wonyoungie, it’s me. Open the door.”

Your sister opens the door. “Unnie,” she calls before bursting into tears. “Are they gone?” You nodded, pulling her in for a hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” you assured her. 

You made your way downstairs after Wonyoung fell asleep, thinking Jinyoung had left already but he was still there. Your father was talking to him - asking for more money.

“Have you not learned a single thing?” you screamed at your father. “How many times do you have to put us through this?” you continued to shout. Jinyoung makes his way over to you.

“How dare you talk to your father like that?” he shouted back. 

“Start acting like our father if you want to be treated like one!” you yelled as tears fall from your eyes. “If you really want to be our father, you would stop gambling. If you cared about us, you’d stop,” you sobbed. You let out a light laugh, “But who am I kidding? You would never do that for us. This is the last time I’m cleaning up your shit,” you warned.

“Walk me out Y/N,” Jinyoung asks, interrupting your conversation. He was trying to calm you down. 

“I’m sorry about that. I’ll find a way to pay you back,” you apologized.

“Hey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Don’t worry about the money, okay?” he assures you, stroking the hair out of your face. “You can always come to me if you’re in trouble.”

You gave him a weak smile, “I appreciate it.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said before giving your forehead a small peck. “Get some rest.”

#got7 #got7 imagine #got7 scenarios #got7 smut #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 forever #got7 fanfic #got7 au #got7 jaebum #got7 mark #got7 jackson #got7 jinyoung #got7 youngjae #got7 bambam #got7 yugyeom #im jaebum #mark tuan #jackson wang #park jinyoung #choi youngjae #bambam #kim yugyeom #igot7 #igot7forever #igot7withgot7 #ahgase #kpop got7 #kpop scenarios #definitelyseven

[princessofguineapigs]

How Can I Refuse Part 1 | Tom Holland

rated: PG-13 for suggestive language, abuse

a/n: slight inspiration from Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper, namely, the pauper part.

words: 1.1 k

“The girl will service all your needs,” Mr. Latreille told the stranger. “And I do mean all of them.” You didn’t dare to look at either man as you made up the bed in the guest chambers. Catching the eye of Mr. Latreille often meant trouble. He considered it disrespectful for servants to make eye-contact. This out of town guest had asked for an extended stay, but you didn’t know much beyond that.

You flipped up the duvet as the young man gave his thanks to your owner. Your arrangement was temporary. You had agreed to eight years of indentured servitude to save your family. Currently, you were a little over three years into your contract.

“Do you need help?” the guest asked you.

You turned. “Oh, no, sir. I’ll get out of your way.” You fluffed the last pillow and dipped out of the room. Your tasks were hard, but today they were made easier as you daydreamed about the handsome stranger. You kept playing over the simple question he’d asked. Do you need help? He would never know how much those words cheered you up, even if you couldn’t accept his help. You rushed through your normal duties, polishing the cabinets, scrubbing the floors, doing the wash. 

With a little bit of time to spare before you needed to prepare supper for Mr. Latreille, you decided to fix a meal for the new guest.

*

You scurried up the servants’ stairs with a tray of beet soup and biscuits for the kind man staying in the guest suite. 

Strangely, you found yourself hoping that the gentleman would enjoy the food you prepared. You couldn’t explain why you suddenly felt the need to impress him. It’s not like he would ever look twice at a mousy thing like you. Balancing the tray in one hand, you rapped on his door lightly.

“Come in,” the man called.

“Excuse me, sir. I thought you might be hungry.” You curtsied lightly, mindful of the tray.

“Please, call me Tom,” the man said as you set the tray down on the nightstand. “What’s your name?”

As you parted your lips to answer, Mr. Latreille stomped through the door you had forgotten to close.

“Mr. Holland, how are your accommodations?” he asked.

“They’re good. Your waitstaff is taking excellent care of me,” Tom said.

At that, Mr. Latreille noticed you. “Don’t you have chores to do, girl? You’re not needed here.”

“Actually, I’d like you to stay,” Tom said.

“Of course, Tom,” you replied.

CRACK

The blow delivered to your face was from the hand of Mr. Latreille and the force of it knocked you to the ground. “Insolent slut! Never address your betters as anything other than ‘sir’!” he screamed at you. He made to strike you again.

“STOP!” Tom shouted. 

Mr. Latreille gave him a withering look, smoke coming from his ears, his face was the same shade as the beets you’d prepared for Tom’s soup.

“I want to use her later,” Tom lied. “I don’t want her face marked up.”

“Very well,” Mr. Latreille said. He exited the room abruptly and slammed the door behind him.

“I won’t hurt you,” Tom said after Mr. Latreille left. “Please, tell me your name, angel.”

“It’s Y/N, sir,” you said.

“Y/N, a fitting name for a beautiful creature like you. And you don’t have to call me sir. Tom is still fine when we’re alone, but we’ll keep up appearances in front of your boss, hmm?”

You nodded and dared to meet his gaze for only an instant. It was a mistake. Tom’s warm, inviting eyes drew you in and held you there. An instant became a second and a second became a moment as you stared deeper into his walnut brown eyes.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Tom asked, patting the spot beside him on the bed.

You joined him and he reached out a hand toward your face. You flinched automatically. “I’m sorry. Does it hurt?” he asked.

“Stings a little,” you said. Tom caressed your face gently, ghosting over the red mark.

“Sister Kalina, at the Abbey, says that when we are wronged we should turn the other cheek, but I am always too afraid to offer the other cheek,” you said.

“No one should ever harm you, Y/N. Least of all, men. Why do you work for that awful man?”

“I have to. I have no choice. He owns me, at least for the next five years,” you said.

Tom looked at you in horror. “Owns you? What do you mean? How can he own another person?”

You folded your hands in your lap. “In the beginning, when my family first moved here, we were very poor,” you started to explain. “And Mr. Latreille let us live here while my parents worked for him. They worked hard, but soon they racked up debts. They never had enough to provide for me and my brother, so they kept borrowing money from Mr. Latreille.”

Tom reached for your left hand and held it in his own.

“If it hadn’t been for his generosity, we would have been on the streets. The debts piled higher and higher. Mr. Latreille grew angry and threatened to have my parents thrown in jail if they didn’t pay what they owed in full.”

Tom wasn’t sure how to comfort you, but he knew he wanted to, so he lightly rubbed circles on your hand with his thumb.

“Because they didn’t have the money, Mr. Latreille said if they could trade something of equal value, he would consider their debt paid. My parents said they didn’t have anything. That if they had anything like that they would sell it and give him the money. That’s when he suggested they give him me. He told them that if they left me here to work for him for eight years, he would call it even and let me go. He turned them out then because he was no longer willing to house them and forced them to leave the city. If they return before my indentured servitude is complete, he will have them jailed.”

Tom squeezed your hand in his. “I’m sorry about your misfortune. How do you deal with such an awful situation?”

You smiled sadly. “My heart escapes when I can’t.”

Tom’s gaze on your face was forlorn. “I’m going to help you, Y/N. However I can.”

Before you could thank him, a bellowing voice jolted you. “GIRL! MY FIRE NEEDS TENDING!”

You glanced at Tom apologetically. “The help is summoned,” you said. “Ring or holler if you need anything.” In a rustle of petticoat and apron, you were out the door and down the servants’ stairs. As you scampered off to your chores, your thoughts dwelled on the handsome kind stranger, and his promise of aid.

Meanwhile,  Tom vowed to himself that he would find a way to break your bonds of servitude.

Part 2

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland series #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #indentured servant!reader