#tomorrow meaning later today because ITS FIVE AM

[solarpunkani]

PROGRESS!!!!!!

#out of queue #ani rambles #so the problem i had earlier was ‘i made 2 chains when i wasnt supposed to and everything was whack’ #but i fixed it so now its Less Whack. #this is gonna be the hood i have like 12 more rows to stitch which might be a full ball of my yarn #also im understanding how motherfuckers listen to podcasts #i listened to like 4 video essays dissecting hozier lyrics and comparing them to dantes inferno #like my other hobbies (drawing and writing) require imagination and concentration and Specific Vibes #crochet requires a different kind of concentration #but so far its good for listening to new music and videoessays so maybe i’ll try a podcast tomorrow. or friday #tomorrow meaning later today because ITS FIVE AM #AAAAAAAAA

[jassackles]

An Actress Life - Chapter 3

Chapter three

Word count: 1,246 words

I look for her till I see her waiting for a cab I think. "Should I take you home?" I ask her. "I don't wanna make you any circumstances." She says nicely. "Probably it's better if we just keep this here professionally." She adds quickly. A cab arrives just a few seconds later. "I guess I see you on set?" I ask. 

"Yeah, I guess so, bye Jensen." "Bye, y/n." These words hurt a bit. I  need to get home, since I will fly to Vancouver tomorrow at 10 am. 

—Your POV—

You are sitting in the cab that's taking you, to your parents house. Did he really run after me? After all those things I did? You ask yourself. The cab stops a moment later, you pay the driver before getting out of the car. You unlock the door and walk into the living room, your family sitting there watching a movie. "Hey guys." You greet them. "Hey y/n/n, what took you so long?" Your mum asks. 

"Gen got her baby and I helped'em with Thomas." "Oh congratulations," your mom says with a smile. "I guess, we'll see you in a few months?" Your cousin asks "It seems so, I'm sorry." You say apologetically. "I'm gonna go to sleep. I hope you know, how much I love you guys." You add. "Y/n/n, we do." Your sister says. You hug all of them good night. "We love you too." Your mum says, making you smile a bit. You head upstairs to your room, sitting down on your bed all the emotions and feeling starting to get to you. You are realising how much you love this man and what kind of mistakes you've done. Gosh.  The more you thought about it, the more you hated yourself for being such a dumbass and just idiot, stupid. Then someone knocks on the door, it's your sister, interrupting your thoughts.

"I knew something was wrong and I was right." She says pulling you into a hug. "What's wrong?" She asks softly. "I met Jensen today for the first time after all these years. I feel so bad and guilty I hate myself." You sob out. "Honey, I always knew how much you love this guy and I thought you were actually going to marry him. We all thought that, but then everything came different." She gives you a small smile. "I know, its all my fault I know that. The most difficult thing is I'm gonna work with him." You sniffle. "Wait, that means you got a part on Supernatural?" You nod. "I'm going to play the love interest of Dean,the  character he plays."  

"Oh and you're really sure you want to do this?" "I have to, it's my job, y/s/n." She nods and knows you're right, hugging you tighter. "I love you, but I want to sleep now. I have to get up early tomorrow." You say a bit sleepy. She kisses your forehead and let's go of you before leaving the room. You change into shirt and  lie down in your bed, sleep washing over you.

Next morning: 

You wake up at 6 am, not really wanting to get up, but knowing you have to, you threw the covers off your body. You slowly and unwillingly get up and enter the bathroom. You have a shower, brush your teeth, put on some make up, put on clothes and dry your hair. You grabbed the few things you've taken out of your suitcase and packed them back into your suitcase. When you finish packing you take your suitcases downstairs to the kitchen ,where your mum is already drinking some coffee. "Morning mum." You kiss her cheek. "Morning love. You want some coffee?" "Yes, please." She gives you a cup of coffee. "When do we have to leave?" "In less than an hour." You say a bit annoyed. 

"Y/n Y/l/n, I am so proud of you, with your 33 years you've achieved a lot." "Thanks mum, but I see you guys hardly , that's what makes me angry and also kinda sad." "It's okay we know you love and appreciate us." She hugs you close. "Honey? what was wrong yesterday when you came home?" Your mum and sister always know when something is off with, if you lie it would be dumb, because they will know. They always know when something is wrong.

 "I met Jensen yesterday after five years years." You say with a sigh. "How was it?" "It was totally weird, when we were waiting for Jared to tell us, that the baby was born, there was this awkward silence." "Ah I see, well I have to tell you he was and I think he is the perfect son-in-law." "Mum please, we already had this conversation three years ago." You say rolling your eyes. "I know, I'm sorry." She says softly "I regret what happened , but I had my chance." 

Your mum hugs you, because she doesn't know what to say about the whole thing with Jensen anymore. She always wanted you and Jensen to have your own family and live happily ever after. She loved him like a second son, she was really disappointed of you. "I guess, we have to leave." She says and you look at the clock in the kitchen. You grab your things, getting them inside the car. Your mum drives you to the airport, when you arrive you say goodbye. "Thanks mum for taking me." "No problem, love you and take care." "You too." You say softly kissing her cheek gently.

You enter the airport, walking to your check in. Handing your luggage over to the lady at the counter. After that you made your way to your gate and wait for your flight. 30 minutes have left so you decide, watching the last episode of season seven of Supernatural. Suddenly someone taps your shoulder, you look up and see Jensen. "Oh hey, what are you doing here?" He asks curiously. "Waiting for my flight, I guess." you say playfully and a smile appears on his face. That smile you love and missed so much.

"No, I mean what are you going to do in Vancouver?" He points at the gate. "I have a meeting with the producer of Supernatural. Jared Already told you, didn't he?" "Yes, he did. I just wanted to make sure." You nod. "It's really weird, isn't it?" He says. "Oh yes, it is. I thought, it was only me thinking that way." "Maybe we should meet after your meeting, getting a coffee, only if you want to." He suggests a slightly nervous.

"Sure, if you give me your number I'll call you later." He gives you his number, that means he really changed it in these years, but you did the same. "Flight 485868." "We gotta go." He says. "See you later." He adds. You wave. You go through the gate and enter  plane you sit down on your seat and continue watching. 4 hours later you arrive in Vancouver, you leave the plane and get your suitcases. When you exit the airport you go to the car, where Ed is waiting for you. When he sees you, a smile appears on his face. "Y/n/n, so nice to see you, I missed you." You hug him. "I missed you too, Ed." "Let's get in the car." You two get into the car.

Read next part here! :)

#jensen #jensen ackles #love #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x y/n #supernatural #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #ex bf #ex boyfriend

[zaffreberries]

My favourite flavour of oats has been discontinued. It’s not the end of the world, it’s not even a major inconvenience to be completely honest. I have other oats that I can eat and enjoy (Creamy honey) but it is still something I loved and enjoyed that has once again been taken from me. To put it plainly, to encapsulate my feelings, to really express my feelings, I can only sigh wearily with hints of defeat and resignation and carry on. Bravely in my first world luxury life where losing my favourite breakfast cereal is amongst my chief worries.

*Sigh*

There is a lot of things that change, things beyond our control that we are forced to adapt to. Everything is destined (or doomed) to change or end because nothing lasts forever. We rail as much as we can against the dying of the light but as hard as we may fight, the sun will always still set despite our desperate efforts. Does that tragic last stand make a thing more special? Does it’s brief flare of warm light hold more significance to us because of its briefness? If somehow we were able to prolong that flare would it lose some of its appeal? I confess that I thought the Blueberry oats would last longer, I didn’t appreciate them as much as I do now that they are gone. Only in its absence does it’s true value become evident. Now the gentle hand of nostalgia can come and begin smoothing away the edges of our memory, soften up the harder angles until we have a nice comfortable shape to lodge in our heart to revisit at a later date. We begin to tint it with rose and speak only of its good virtues. We don’t talk about “the other stuff” we don’t sully the memory with these truths, we just omit them until they no longer exist in our mind.

I want to briefly pause at this, to properly make a note of what’s just been said before we begin to omit it and then forget it. To make a point of acknowledging the flaws, to deliberately not rush to smoothing over those edges and hard angles. To properly and objectively (I am not objective) evaluate my beloved (no bias whatsoever) blueberry crumble oats (wails in objective and unbiased lamentation). They were more expensive than the alternative, there was less oats for more money in comparison to the other oats available. The argument could be made that they were a “premium” product, that I was paying for quality over quantity. Unfortunately that argument doesn’t mean as much as actual money which I wasn’t in a large supply of. That’s why I didn’t enjoy them as much as I wanted to. Because money (there is a very deep and long winded rant about capitalism that can be expressed by just saying “because money” with as much frustration and disgust as you can to explain why the world sucks).

And so we age and grow we begin to hoard these beautiful (rose tinted) memories, we stock them in our hearts like a museum of warm fond smiles and occasionally visit them with friends later on, remarking upon them, smoothing them further with each visit delighting in the memory of them more than the reality. A little pink orb of wistfulness or perhaps tragedy that holds the embers of yesterday that we cling to so as to warm up today, or hopefully brighten up tomorrow. We collect them as we age, our one true currency, the currency of the heart and soul, a window into what defines us as person, an insight into the fibre of our humanity. What defines you as a person? Was it your favourite toy as a child? Was it the friend you had at school? Do you look back and remember that bad day and smile. Do you still have the photos that unleash a flood of warmth inside your chest, or perhaps they tighten it as you feel the tragedy of time as it makes you realise how far you have traveled. How soft is that edge now? Does hurt still linger in your heart when you think of the smiling face of your first romance, aware of the pain to come? Has time moulded your emotions into something bearable? In five years will I still *sigh* at the memory of (my beloved) blueberry oats, will I even remember them?

I wonder what changes I will forced to endure next, what things I will be forced to consign to the depths of my memory as they will no longer be a reality? What things will be made more beautiful in their end. What thing I love will be taken from me? Everything will be, I know that now, but I’m intent on luxuriating in the memory of their existence, on satiating myself on the reality of them whilst I can. I am grateful that they existed, happy that in my brief (beautiful) time I was able to experience such things and joyous that I can revisit a version of them later on.

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

02.06.24 - I am super pretty in pink today and frankly my morning is going better than a usual Monday 2.0 does so I'm counting my blessings. It's my mother's birthday so I'm going to give her a call when I take lunch today, but it's hit or miss if I'll get her because she's sick now the way I was in the beginning of the year.

Work - I have an efile to take care of, and a new case for JMK to enter into NYM and create a physical file for. Other than that, I know SJC will want me to tackle something related to WvP - a letter to a defendant I think. But it's pretty quiet here overall.

Background Noise - I start today with 119 on the Watch Later, no thanks to my trolling somebody's channel for certain drama updates. Since I'm still working my way through the accumulative five (5) hours of initial Mamamax drama, I'm alternating with a shorter video from the watch later every....15-20 min or so.

See and I only managed to get through like nine (9) videos yesterday so I need to step on the gas here or tomorrow is going to suck ass.

Study - Tuesday is article day and I have a list!

The Murder of Emmett Louis Till: The Spark That Started the Civil Rights Movement

Deep dives: climate policy, police misconduct, & the Horizon IT scandal

The Glass Report

When is a Book Not a Book? Oliver Twist in Context

'Good news' articles

Article on the "Beacon of Hate" - Unusual Clandestine 30m Beacon that broadcasts right-wing conspiracy things.

The Negro Problem

An appendix letter that went with one of my case law decisions

Black Women and the Constitution: Finding Our Place, Asserting Our Rights

I didn't do as much as I wanted case law wise yesterday, But I did manage to read:

Mississippi Madness: The Story of Emmett Till

A couple (2) of NYT articles on the trial of the Emmett Till killers

Eight (8) articles on climate policy

A couple (2) articles on police misconduct

Four (4) articles on the Horizon IT scandal

I started a couple of case law Wikipedia pages but didn't finish them

13 various other articles

Extras - I have no scheduled chores, and I'm back doing the routine proper so while I do have to switch dinner around I don't really have any responsibilities. This is by design - we have D&D again tonight and it starts at like 6p. That means I have to push off the homemade meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and mushroom gravy until like Thurs or Fri when I have more time to make it; in its place I'm moving up the Polish sausage & pierogi because that meal won't take more than an hr to make.

#studyblr #my study stuff #today's focus #talking #selfie

[oftarotandnoodledragons]

The Renewal

Never, never rest contented with any circle of ideas, but always be certain that a wider one is still possible. -Richard Jefferies, The Story of My Heart

So here we are. The 78 Tarot cards, in whatever orientation they were set in my deck ten years ago to the day, have each been addressed, researched, discussed, and I sought to find the message that each one was telling me. Sometimes I saw it straight away. Other times, years would pass before it would occur to me. I feel like those years may not have always been necessary for revelation to come: had I applied myself sooner, then I would be further ahead and more experienced than I am now. The process of writing each card was supposed to only take a few months at best: I would have been done somewhere in the later half of 2013.

That's not what was in store for me, though, and now that I look back on it, I am thankful that I took the time. Over ten years ago, I feel like I was playing with matches. Potentially, I was playing with matches in a fireworks factory in some cases. It was always my goal to get through the deck and learn it. In the first instance, I was limited by time to get my notes made and thus I had a slapdash, slipshod notebook where I felt like I was pretending when the time come to divinate. In the second, I had the Sun-inspired revelation to make this blog and restart. And after the third, which is the one that took ten years, I feel like I have a better appreciation of the deck that the first two attempts would not have given me. I do recall that on the second run, the first card I drew was Temperance, and now I see that it was meant as an admonishment. The deck was telling me to take my time, to temper my enthusiasm, and to come at the cards with a maturity that I did not have when I first started.

Yet, these 78 cards have helped me grow as a person as well over the past decade. It confirmed that maybe university wasn't for me after all and that town planning was not where I was meant to be. It kept me focused and showed me problems from different angles and that I was on the right path to solve them. I am where I am now, and I feel like I now deserve the Tarot's guidance when it comes to other people not just because I've gone through the whole deck, but I've seen facets of how each member of the deck can apply, and thus I've gained a more intimate knowledge of each card. I have wisdom that I did not have. At the same time, I now have the temperance I lacked back when I was getting my toes wet. I'm no longer playing with matches. I'm hearthing the fire.

I have thanked the Tarot Nova deck, finger hooked with Azane, and now I have washed that deck. It feels liberating that, after all this time, I can use the cards again and not feel like I have to keep them in order, untouched, for the sake of my journey.

With the end of the journey I did make a few purchases. Tomorrow, my Tarot of Dragons deck arrives, along with the Star Dragons Oracle Deck. I am very much looking forward to using these decks for other people. Additionally, while I was at FWA a month ago, I came across the Foxes in Love deck, which I felt drawn to. That deck, though, doesn't exactly allow reversals, and a lot of the symbology present in other decks is not present: in a way, the simple representations form a sort of joke inspired by the meaning derived from RWS. And yet, as I held it in my hand today just after washing the Tarot Nova, I feel like I don't deserve to use it yet.

My journey through the deck took ten years and, as part of the process of running through the deck as it was shuffled on June 13, 2013, my observance of each card and its meanings was scattered. I had the meaning of the card in front of me, but not always its relationship to other cards.

That is now what I want to focus on with this blog. Oh yes, it's not going away, at least not just yet. It's all well and good to talk about the Six of Wands, but knowing that it's triumph after the disagreement of the Five of Wands, and correlates to the caritas of the Six of Pentacles or the period of respite of the Six of Swords, and also ties in to the harmony of The Lovers, is a much more useful thing to have. One can divinate with the Tarot one card at the time, but to see and feel the connections between cards is where the true power of Tarot lies. And then to apply that in a spread, and see the links, the reinforcing and diverging energies, is how one improves as a reader.

So, the plan from here is to cover the following things, though not necessarily in order:

The Fool's Journey: You can find a variation of this anywhere with any Tarot teacher, as it helps explain the Major Arcana. I feel like I would be going over very well-trod paths, but I feel it is my duty to explain the Fool's Journey using my perspective.

The Minor Arcana: As I've gone through my journey, I've learned that each suit, in its run from Ace to Ten, tells a story similar to the Fool's Journey. Over half of the deck is devoted to this component, and rather than have my very piecemeal entries explaining each card one by one, I want to synthesize it all into one location so that it can be seen all at once.

The Court Cards: Ooh boy, this one is a doozy. Like the Minor Arcana, this too ought to be seen in one place at one time. Not only that, I feel like this is my weakest area of the deck. I feel like I only have a partial understanding of these sixteen cards, so through combining them and making comparisons and drawing links my knowledge will improve.

The Celtic Cross Positions: As I've grown, I've learned that not everything has to be spread in this format. Indeed, I don't think I've yet seen a reader on YouTube use this spread. With that said, though, I like how comprehensive the spread is and allows explanation of an issue from ten different places. Like the cards themselves, the positions in this spread have nuances, and I want to be able to better master it.

On top of that, I may document some readings and other Tarot experiences in here.

So, like The World, I feel like I have graduated, the apprentice is now the journeyman, and the cycle begins anew: knowledge gained is applied as the World spins and I am taken to new places. The journey continues, for sure, but along different roads.

#the renewal

[ashthehermit]

Legends of Tomorrow: A Retrospective 1.2

In my last post I kept mentioning Moon Knight. It isn't too weird to compare two shows that exist within the same, fairly narrow, genre. But there are a weird number of parallels between phase four Marvel content and Legends of Tomorrow stories. My theory? Legends was being weird before anyone else allowed themselves to be that weird. Loki had the same general premise as Legends season two (replace variants with time aberrations, TVA with Time Masters). The TVA had the feel of the Time Bureau from later seasons, complete with the animations for the time doors they used to travel. Legends even had its Wandavision moment in the episode where all the legends are trapped on television.

Anyway.

PILOT PART TWO

This episode begins with the classic we-can't-change-events-in-our-own-timeline spiel that everyone needs in their time travel show. Legends never had particularly clear rules of time travel, but this was pretty straightforward. Soon Legends will make the meaning of the phrase 'wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff'.

This time, it's the bad guys' moment to shine. Their talents get the legends into an arms sale, where Savage is hanging out. It's unclear what his game is. Apparently he creates chaos and world wars because the more the world fights, the less they notice an immortal living among them. This seems counter intuitive. Surely all that trouble would draw attention to him? Oh look, Damien Darhk!

It all erupts into a fight rather quickly. Who knew that illegal arms deals were so violent? This is all an opportunity for the legends to show off some standard heroism. They're even alright at working as a team, even if it goes south. They bicker about it later, regardless.

'I doubt you can apprehend me, AND stop a nuclear explosion!'

The plot of the episode takes a moment to kick in, but it is the plot of every Legends episode that will follow. The team attempts to fix history, and in doing so they mess it up even worse. In this instance, they lose part of the futuristic tech Ray has in his suit. It is also the debut of the phrase 'time is like cement', and the assertion that time takes a minute to settle once changes have been made. It is a concept this show uses liberally to avoid the nasty time paradoxes that destroyed the Umbrella Academy. Who knew it could be that easy for Five?

In later seasons, the terrible future that the Legends have to avoid will be more silly, or goofy in some way. Like Beebo day replacing Christmas. Here, it's a dire, nuclear wasteland. The end of the world has been predicted quite a few times already. It is like I am watching the Umbrella Academy.

This is also the debut of the Legends commitment to goofy fashion in the past. It is very important Sara wears gogo boots in the 70s. This is not a show known for accuracy, but I do appreciate the fun of it all. The hawks stay on the ship to do something mystical to do with a knife. Snart, Rory and Ray go to do more crime. Sara and Firestorm go looking for young Stein, which I do enjoy. There's a good character moment here. Present Stein is stuffy and judgemental. Past Stein is more laid back. He flirts with Sara. He smokes weed. He's cool. The question is - how did he become who he is today? He's a bit of an asshole too, prompting Stein to reflect more on himself.

'We wouldn't want my former self tempted by a sexy assassin from the future!'

Sara knocks out past Stein with a bong, and present Stein sets an alarm clock so he can make sure to meet his future wife. It's a little cheekier than the previous episode. There's a lingering shot where we see Sara stealing young Stein's joints. I also like Carter's admission that he and Kendra aren't necessarily destined to be together. I remain unconvinced about this pairing, but there was a very wonky power dynamic between them that this admission dispels a little. Kendra is already being pursued by creep Vandal Savage, Carter doesn't need to come off this way too.

Why does Rip have a telescope in his parlour? Does he take it out to watch the stars? Adorable.

Stein comes to the conclusion that he hasn't really changed at all. He is still arrogant. It's a character moment. Self-reflection and all that. Jax gets to talk him up. It's effective. Young Stein earns his keep, and it's good that he makes so many recurring appearances.

Kendra stands there while Carter is murdered. It's a bit of an awkward scene, as you can see her just standing in the back. Savage gets away because apparently Kendra needs to use the knife he used instead of him. I don't know why. The mystical elements of this show are really mixed up with the sci fi elements. The same was true for Arrow, but it's particularly glaring here. The plot rests on Kendra killing Savage, but there's no clear reason why.

Rip makes sure that Stein meets his future wife. This is because he has a soft spot when it comes to wives. He's warming. Soon, he will indeed be the team dad.

The team becomes bonded over the death of Carter, who they knew for about two minutes. They renew their dedication to the team, and the story begins proper. This episode charmed me more than the first. There's a hint there of the tone that Legends will settle into, once they really decide what kind of show they want to make. It is more focused than the first, having the characters in separate locations somehow made for a more streamlined story.

#legends retrospective #legends of tomorrow #sara lance #cw

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary44

10/21-22/2023

saturday - sunday

today/tomorrow i am gonna see fire walk with me in a theater, which is crazy!

anyways, uhhhhh, i didn't do like anything useful today. i mean i cooked, cleaned, i worked out like i do every day, but i did not write riffs, i did not even listen to the songs. i kept putting that off, nervously i guess. it really scares me kinda i guess because i don't want to be super disappointed in all the songs, i get so easily worked up i guess. anything that makes me feel like i have to deal with something i sort of run from, which sucks totally.

anyways, a pic of me on the phone in the airport my gf took when we got to denver. usually i don't like other pictures taken of me by others, but this one i don't look ugly, you can also hardly see me so,

i was asking for directions in the airport, because it's so huge and weird.

right now i'm just thinking about super stupid stuff, like five nights at freddy's, which i have to reiterate, i think i'm reiterating, i've learned about almost totally from morbid fascination.

i'm thinking about its relative influence and also scott cawthon being an insane evangelical conservative. like, i keep thinking about pizzagate, which is wrong i suppose because many of the games that develop whatever lore, that comes in later. but it is definitely possessed by the same kind of satanic panic child abuse conspiracy stuff, so it's roughly already there. something is totally psycho about those games to me and like, the whole creepy kid's stuff horror rn. it's always been a thing for horror, like childhoods made horrifying, it's also like, one of the scariest times for anyone. it makes some sense, but i dunno, it's like so of this moment it feels hard to ignore the constant touching on 'trauma' and abuse and whatever in these games, the weirdness of the villains being so like, of a particular class, (like, walt disney types, creating a vague critique of something so vague it feels like video essay fodder more than anything else), the weirdness of the trauma (retreads all the satanic panic tropes of lost memories and things (re: lost memory/false memory, i've like actually experienced that and experienced being told that something i remembered didn't happen and that it really was covering something up that i could not recall at all, and none of this stuff really gets that feeling right. it's scary obviously but it only becomes horror in retrospect, in the moment, it's just endless illness.)) anyways this is all so stupid it doesn't seem like anyone should have to/want to think about it, but like, i dunno. it feels like the obsessions with like, content about true crime/its related forms (yt groomer exposes count imo) is in some level informed by this stuff, or this stuff is informed by that. there's a video some kid made actually about a pedophile teacher (or maybe headmaster) in his school, and he did it by using a frame narrative of analog horror files sent to him.

i don't think this stuff is explicitly / purposefully aiming itself in these directions always/mostly. i think there's a case of being artistically inspired and not examining what the originating point says/does, beyond just being something you love or whatever. and why would you be critical of it, it's so stupid and for kids and whatever. but i feel like that work's assumptions are basically carried by a bunch of other things and no one really examines what those assumptions are/who carried them/spat them out into life.

such pointless thought, though.

i wrote two tiny things today, a bit for a collaborative poem, and i wrote this image i saw in the shower. it came from patterns in the tile, super vivid, like flashes of real life in front of me, a dead fox in a hunter's arms, and the fox being shot. i can't explain why this, and i won't put the image down in full, but i felt it vividly, all the fleshiness and realness of that, in one half of a half second, and committed to memory.

anyways look at this new brand i found today on fashionsnap, called a practiced hand, their collection from a/w 2023. i totes love it.

anyways it is 4:30ish am so likeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[honeyhenry]

Captain Confusion

A/N: Inspired by this video that makes me weep with its cuteness! I just had to write this okay 🥺🥺🥺 This is in the same universe as Homeward Bound, which happens after this story. Feel free to give it a read after this, if you haven’t already! ALSO should note that the lovely @ohmygoodie​ is my Sy partner in crime and without them this fic would not be made possible :)

Warning: mention of operations/hospitals, and a whole lot of fluff!

It was a simple procedure and so it hadn't worried you too much, other than the usual fears when a loved one is under the knife while in the hands of trained doctors. Sy’s hernia had been authorised for operation only five minutes into the doctor’s appointment you had all but dragged him to, and scheduled for 4 days later. Not really much time to prepare mentally, but you knew it was necessary with your big bear of a man in pain. Despite the painkillers prescribed, he was walking with a limp and groaning in bed for all the wrong reasons.

In the waiting room, you and his Ma kept busy during the 45 minute wait by looking through magazines, talking about how the Captain’s quality of life will improve, and what kind of minor jobs you’ll have him do around the house while he’s recovering as you continue to work.

“I hope the recovery isn’t as long as some people have said. I know for a fact he’ll not want to be cooped up all day. If he’s anything, he’s stubborn” you sigh, knowingly.

Ma smiles, looking at you pointedly, knowing that she is in the presence of the only other soul who knows what is best for her son. “He knows better now that his health is his wealth. He’s got a lot more riding on being well now. After all, it’s not just him he’s gotta be there for anymore.”

“Yeah, I mean I always tell him, he’s not 25 anymore. Or even 30. I’ll need you to back me up, he does anything you say. I’m his equal, you’re his Mom.”

You both laugh a little, hers warm and kind, while yours tinges with the remaining hopeful nerves of an army Captain’s wife. You don’t like not knowing about your Sy, especially since you spent all those years apart, not knowing if he was safe, or even alive. The waiting, in any capacity, is the hardest part.

You’re flipping through a random tabloid magazine, when the surgeon in charge walks through to the waiting room.

“Everything went really well with Captain Syverson. He’s coming to from the anaesthetic and asking for his Ma?”

Ma grins before sucking her teeth between her lips watching as your mouth drops. You both move from the waiting area to follow the surgeon towards where your husband is resting. You speak under your breath, only wanting Sy’s Ma to hear you; “I hope he still remembers how to grovel after this.”

Ma enters the room with you following her, arriving only a couple more corridors along from where you’d last seen him earlier that morning. He may not have asked for you but you were going to see Sy whether he wanted it or not. A grand push of the door allows it to swing open, and suddenly there he is. A little disoriented but has a large dopey smile plastered on his face as soon as he sees his Ma. His heavy head lolls to one side as he rests it on the plush hospital pillow.

“Hey Ma” he groans out as she bends over her large son to give his forehead a kiss, taking his hand in hers. He spends a moment just gazing at her for a while, the love he has for her evident on his face, as she tells him that everything went well, and that he can go home tomorrow.

It’s only after this tender mother and son moment, that he notices you.

“Ma.... why ya bringing a beautiful girl here when I’m like this...oh god I’m not wearing underwear Ma!”

His feeble attempt at trying to cover himself means that you actually end up seeing far more of him than you expected. Nothing you hadn’t seen before, but it definitely hasn't happened in front of his own mother before. The whole situation makes you blush and giggle a little as you try your best to avoid eye contact with Ma. You can only imagine the look on her face, and you don’t want to get any more involved with Sy’s naked form than you need to right now.

Rather than put you and your poor Sy through any further embarrassment, Ma speaks up.

“Oh darlin’, this is y/n. You remember her, right?”

And while he’s listening - or at least pretending to listen to his Ma fussing over him again - he’s just staring at you, gazing in awe as if you were the one to hang the stars in the sky.

“You are.... so pretty” he slurs, making you break out a genuine smile that he mirrors, glad that he was the one to make you look even more pretty.

“Well thanks handsome. How do you feel?” you perch on the edge of the bed and hold his hand. To him, the gesture feels warm and inviting - even if he doesn't know you, he recognises something about you in the comfort that you bring.

“Feel like shit. Oh fuck i said ‘shit’ in front of the lady” he whines again, scrunching his eyes closed as hangs his head in shame. It looks like he might even cry with the realisation that he’s made such a foolish impression of himself. It takes Ma shushing him and making him take a sip of juice from his bedside to calm down, dabbing his face with a cloth when his juice spills from his mouth.

“Oh Logan Daniel Syverson...what did they do to ya?” she lightly scolds as she helps clean up the mess he’s unknowingly created around him. That’s your Sy, a hurricane of mess that somehow fits into order just how he likes it.

You giggle a little more at his shameful expression, before he refocuses, giving you his undivided attention once more.

“How is it that ya know my Ma and we’ve never met? Or have we? ‘Cause I think i’d remember a face like yours” 

“Well...” you start, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear to let him see your entire face, hoping it would jog his memory. As you do so, the ring on your fourth finger glints in the hospital light, and for the first time since you've entered the room, he’s noticed.

“Oh...man...knew a girl like you would be snatched up already. Whoever has the honour of being yours is a very lucky man.” He smiles softly, a wistful look in his eye, while makes you realise that you can’t wait for the drugs to leave his system, you have to remind him who you are and who he is, right this very moment.

“Sy honey... we’re married. You’re my husband, and I’m your wife. I think the drugs are making you more than a bit loopy.”

It’s his turn for his jaw to drop, his eyes are unblinking as he takes in what you’ve just said. He turns sharply - more than his doctor would have probably liked - to his Ma, and then back to you, and then his Ma again, waiting for one of you to burst out laughing at the prank you surely must be playing on him.

“Wha-? A wife? I have a wife?” you nod and he exhales a deep breath of air in amazement. 

“YOU’RE my wife? Really?” you nod again and Ma smiles at you as she watches the scene of Logan meeting you all over again.

“Am I still in the army? I’m a Captain ya know”

“You left just a few months ago. You still work in the local camps, of course. You like it there, and you’re home every night and most weekends.”

“Does Ma like you?” You don’t even get a chance to finish as he turns to his mother “Do you like her? is she nice? Does she like your new kitchen? I built it y’know.” 

You knew when you met, dated, and married him, that Sy was a Momma’s boy. He loves his mother so much, that her opinion will always mean the world to him. 

Ma nods “You two are the sweetest couple. She’s the best addition to the family, gives you a run for your money alright. She’s my new favourite.” You get a soft hug from her as she says this, with her wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. She’s always felt so grateful that her Logan found you, because my goodness did he love you ferociously, and he needed you in his life. You were the making of him, and the whole Syverson clan will forever be grateful to you for it.

"And where did we get married? If we really are married.” He continues his line of questioning.

“At the ranch, on your family’s land. it was such a special day. We had the reception there too. And we went to Italy for our honeymoon.”

Sy is basking in every word you say, praying it to be true, as if he could will it into existence if it hadn’t already happened, wanting badly to remember sunset kisses and italian food and beach days all spent with you. He perks up at the last thing you say, taken by complete surprise.

“Honeymoon?! Oh my god have we...ya know..?” A blush fades over Sy’s face, and even though you love his Ma, you really wish she wasn’t finding out so many details about your personal life today, like how your son rails you on the regular in many ways, and in many places. He must somehow remember or at least accurately imagine your past endeavours, as he grins like a little shit. 

You smack his arm, lightly but with a firm hand.

“Be quiet, or the whole ward will know about our sex life” you threaten. “Yes we’ve had sex. i’d hope so given that we have a kid on the way.”

If Ma had had to deal with her son getting horny over his “new”wife, she was being fully compensated for it as she witnessed him fall head over heels in love with you, all over again.

“A kid?...Tell me ya not messing with me...are we really- I-” he swallows and his tears come even easier than before “We’re havin’ a baby?” With the sudden realisation, he turns to his Ma. “This beautiful woman right here’s havin’ my kid, Ma?” He looks between the two of you again, watching as you both nod and beam from ear to ear.

“You know you cried just as much when i told you for the first time too. i promise when the drugs are out your system it’ll all make sense again.”

Sy smiles, clutching your hand in his warm palm, almost scared to let go as the door is knocked and he feels you might be taken away. Instead, it’s a welcome visitor.

“Hey doc,” Sy greets the man who reenters the room, now freshly out of scrubs  to visit his patient - who if anything is now simply love sick, no hernia to be found. “This is my wife, and she’s having a baby.” he looks back to you with a quirk of his eyebrow “My baby?” You roll your eyes and he confirms it; “my baby.”

“Oh, congratulations...again.”

The doctor’s evaluation and explanations don’t take long, and while Sy is being informed, you start rubbing your belly as a form of self-comfort. You will need to remind your child that while their father looks incredibly stern and impossibly large, he is silly and goofy and already loves them with his entire being. Over the course of the afternoon, Sy talks with you while the anaesthetic wears off. It turns out they had given him a pretty high dosage based on his height and muscle mass, so he would be out of action for a couple of hours at least.

“Oh, i have your ring” you pipe up before he starts getting too sleepy again, taking the thick gold band off of the necklace around your neck, placing it on his finger carefully.

“That feels better already” he sighs, as he begins to doze in and out of consciousness. Before he closes his eyes once more to rest peacefully, a small tear slides down his cheek, which you of course, notice. Sy has cried maybe 5 times in the time you’ve known him and three of those times have been in this very room.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you in pain? i can call the doctor-” 

“No i’m fine i’m fine i just-” he sniffs and tries to clear his throat from the sad, heavy pain he feels in his chest. “I’m gonna be real sad when I wake up from this dream. What if I can’t find you when I wake up?”

Oh your sweet, silly man.

“Bear it’s not a dream, I’ll be right here when you get up properly and we can go home and cuddle and I’ll heat up your favourite meal. I’ll be right there with you.”

“And the baby?” he asks, eyes wide. almost nervous to ask.

“Well they have to come too, they're with me. We can look at their pictures again so you can get reacquainted. And Aika will be so happy you’re back. We’ve been gone the whole day.”

“Aika!” your husband perks up, “Oh Aika, man....I love that dog..”

“I know you do bear, you just get some rest for now and then we can go home.”

Before you know it, he’s fallen back to sleep, his mouth wide open as he slumps against his pillow, completely out of it.

It’s dark outside when Sy opens his eyes again, watching as his Ma passes you a small herbal tea in the dimly lit hospital room. Technically visiting hours are over, but no one was going to argue with the Captain’s family. You smile, and he feels like he can finally relax, in your presence

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” he growls lowly, and you look up at him from your phone, beaming in surprise, glad that your husband had woken up feeling a bit more like himself.

“Oh hello again” you smile and squeeze his hand, his slow blinking already indicating a much clearer mind, and that he knows exactly who you are.

“Again? What’d I miss?”

“The drugs” he stops you mid-sentence for a sweet kiss, acting as though a minute more without your lips would be the source of his downfall. “Mmmh, the drugs made you so loopy, it was the sweetest thing, Sy.” You grin as he pulls you up beside him on the bed.

He raises his eyebrows, clearly with no recollection of any of the past events. Yet still, he smiles.

“Yeah? How’s baby?” he holds you close to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist so he can cover your tummy with his palm.

“They’re great. Glad to have daddy back and sane.”

You swear that as you say that, he starts tearing up again, this time however he doesn’t let them fall. He was openly weeping earlier, but you won’t tell him that. Not yet.

“Damnit. Must be something in these drugs they got me on.”

“Mm-hmm sure bear.”

You stay close that evening, both curled up on a hospital bed that is already quite a tight fit for your husband alone. But as always, he makes it work. You’re half on top of him, both of you fast asleep, when the nurses come to do their rounds. Ma had left just after he had woken up, sneaking off into the night to let the rest of the family know how her most middle son is keeping after the operation. You’d cuddled and doted on each other until you’d fallen asleep, Sy following not long after as he bid goodnight to you and your precious cargo with a soft kiss to your lips, and protective rub of your stomach.

He counts himself more than lucky to have something so good, that it would pain him to forget. He was living the life that he’d been too scared to ever dream of, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

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Masterlist

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[snappleapple]

the bunny vs. the fox

dream x reader

hogwarts au

fluff and angst i suppose

warning - cursing, reader being a small b, simpy dream, underage drinking

word count - 6.8k

a/n: hi again! please enjoy this long boi while i go on another 8 month hiatus lol. also i legit had a heart attack cause i accidentally deleted this but i got it back so phew

the vibrant colors of your uniform stands out amongst the repelling amount of green present within the slytherin common room. you had been invited to the party on behalf of wilbur for their recent quidditch cup win against gryffindor, a game lost because of the carelessness and arrogance of your teammates. along with students from other houses, you stand next to the tall boy you had met when you got onto the train in your first year.

“wilbur, why am i here?” the question lingers in his ear as you point to your current attire of your uniform skirt, an oversized gryffindor sweater you borrowed from sapnap, your thick glasses and messy bed hair from taking a nap after the long game. “y/n? what are you doing here?” you turn your head to glance over at the younger boy, “that’s what i wanna know, tommy.” as you turn around to look at wilbur, another person bumps into you, “hey! watch where you’re going- y/n! what a surprise!” with the roll of your eyes, you dismiss him and reply sarcastically, “glad to see you’re not so shaken up from the recent failure of gryffindor, fundy.” he gives you a shit-eating grin before bouncing away to continue his search for pure alcohol.

as more students enter the already crowded room, a loud cheer begins to form as a boy is lifted into the air. “dream! dream! dream!” the crowd yells at the top of their lungs, which would probably attract a teacher soon, so you begin to sneak out of the room until a loud voice interrupts the cheers, “y/n! leaving the party so soon?” dream taunts with a smirk on his face, everyone’s attention turning towards you. “mind your own business, dream.” you spit out with venom, still bitter about your quidditch loss, as he scoffs and strides towards you, “i guess if you search up sore loser in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of y/n.” he mocks once again while you begin to get riled up from the obnoxious laughter erupting from the crowd. you turn around and begin heading for the door once more before hearing, “come on y/n. no one likes a sore loser.” turning around, you glare at the annoying boy, “come on dream. the only thing worse than a sore loser is a sore winner.” the both of you stare each other down while the whole room stays quiet. dream stands with an unsatisfied smirk on his face as he reaches into his pocket, possibly reaching for his wand. with the slight slip of your fingers and extra progression , you grasp your wand. but before you could fully pull out your wand, you get lifted into the air, over the shoulder of a ravenclaw. “we’ll be seeing you guys later.” he nonchalantly says while walking out of the room, giving you perfect view of dream, with a now satisfied shit-eating grin as he waves at you. you end your interaction with the slytherin with the show of your middle finger.

“techno! why? i could’ve totally won that battle.” the older boy shakes his head as he listens to your whines. “nope. i promised phil that i would keep you out of trouble.” you groan some more before stomping away back to the gryffindor common room, barely sparing a glance at the pink haired boy.

a week passes by and when you’re at breakfast, you lay your head against phil’s shoulder while he munches away on a buttered piece of toast, keeping conversation with fundy. dream hadn’t been bothering as bad as normal but he was still around you. you were a bit confused about his change in behavior but brushed it off, ignoring him and treating him as if he’s on his own menopause situation. twiddling your fingers, boredom begins to strike you in the great breakfast hall. well, once quiet hall, in which the silence is interrupted by the entrance of dream, sapnap and george. you would assume that since they are all from different houses, there would be a tolerance for peace, yet that never seemed like an option with dream. “hello y/n.” he smirks as you turn around to look at him with a stone cold expression. “what do you want?” you say with a scathing tone. ‘“nothing, just came to see how the most competitive person on gryffindor was doing after their recent loss.” with the use of your middle finger, you raise your glasses before giving dream an innocent grin, “i’m feeling good.” the hall goes quieter than it was before as dream sits next to you on the bench. as you leans closer to you, you put your hand under your head and turn your head towards him coyly. “and what do i owe the honor of being able to sit next to the dream? he rolls his eyes as sapnap and george laugh at your shenanigans. “i was just wondering if you would do me the honor of going out to hogsmeade with me?” shaking your head, you barely even glance over at the boy. “no.” dream’s expression remains stoic as he continues to look at you, “come on y/n.” you turn to stand up and leave. raising a stiff hand into the air, you wave to phil and fundy.

but before you could fully exit the great hall, a hand pulls you into the crevice of the walls. he puts his hand over your mouth to prevent you from saying a word. “y/n. please. please go out with me.” shaking your head once again, you give him a cheeky grin. “what will you do for me if i do?” dream pinches his nose bridge, “i’ll do your charms homework for a month.” he persuades with much hesitance. you fully extend your hand out to him and he wraps his large, warm hand around yours. the large grin on your face replicates the one on his face. “next week on saturday, meet me at the bridge to hogsmeade at nine am, sharp! but if you are even a minute late, i’m leaving and you’re still doing my charms homework.” dream closes his eyes and basks in the natural light from the bewitched sky, nodding his head.

the rest of the day, you go throughout your usual classes, occasionally listening to the gossip that spread like wildfire throughout the school. “oh my god, did you hear that l/n is going out with dream tomorrow?” or “i thought they hated each other?” in all honesty, you were beginning to get annoyed from all of the side conversations happening in all classes. luckily, you were in your last class of the day, unluckily, it was with slytherin, specifically dream’s class. a yawn erupts from your mouth as pull out a set of notes to get ready for your class. as the second yawn begins, a hand makes its way to your mouth. you glare at the boy who had already caused way too much mischief for your liking. he gives you a fake grin as he sits next to you. before you can retort to his stupid action, your professor struts into the room, quickly starting his lesson.

throughout most of the class, dream remains quiet, jotting down his notes or dragging his hand through his hair. but towards the end of the class, he leans his head on your shoulder. your body stiffens up as his hand makes its way to your thigh. “you better take your hand off my thigh if you want to keep it.” quiet chuckles erupt from his lips, “can i do this on our date?” you reciprocate soft chuckles, “do you want to die?” the grin on his face get replaced by a pout and puppy dog eyes. “why are you so mean to me?” you continue to scribble down notes, not sparing one glance at the boy, until he grabs your face with both of his hands, “look at me pout, y/n.” and when he turns you face towards him, your professor calls the both of you out. “miss l/n, please take your lovey dovey business outside of class.” your mouth hangs open but before you could protest, dream interrupts you, “will do professor.” his chuckles echo through the room as you slam your head into the table repeatedly until dream puts his hand on the desk, preventing you from bruising your forehead even more. “just let me bash my skull open and die.” dream pats your head, “i can’t have you die before our date.” cringing at his words, you frantically try to remove his hand so you could smash your head into the desk.

later that night at dinner, your face remains a disgusted pout as you imagine your date with dream. while you shudder in disgust, phil taps you out of your daze. “y/n, you really should snap out of it today.” he laughs jokingly along with fundy. your eyes roll as you turn back to your dinner plate full of random things phil stacked on so that you would actually eat dinner. after being forcefully fed one chicken leg and some mashed potatoes, you check the time which read eight twenty five, giving you five minutes to go to the black lake. “oh shit.” you exclaim as you grab all of your items while phil tries to stuff another chicken leg into your mouth. “phi-“ you shut up when the chicken successfully makes it into your mouth. as you sprint out of the hall carrying your school books, robe, wand and other unnecessary items fundy handed to you, your robe decides to slip out unbeknown to you.

when you arrive to the lake, you see him waiting for you already. you toss your items down next to him and sit down next to him. “you’re late. again.” heavy huffs of air erupt from your body as try to catch your breath, still holding the chicken leg phil stuffed into your mouth. “sorr-“ a cough leaves your lips, “sorry. phil was trying to get me to eat dinner.” the boy lets out deep chuckles as he ruffles your hair, “classic phil.” you lean back and balance your weight on the both of your hands as you stare out at the frozen lake. “techno, i don’t get why we have to meet outside in the freezing cold when there is a warm library open to us. i’m cold and i lost my robe on the way here. in a silent flash, a blue accented robe makes its way over into your sight, along with a bare arm. when you turn your head towards the boy, he says away and turns back to the lake, expressionlessly. a small smile erupts on your face as you turn back to the lake, wrapping the robe around your shoulders. before you could mutter a quick thank you, you get cut off, “don’t. lets not talk about this.”

after finishing whatever school work you needed to with techno, you walk back with him into the hallways, coincidentally just as dinner was ending. though you never found out where your robe was, you bump into a tall figure as you make your way through the hall with techno counting the tiles on the floor. a small oomf leaves your lips as the person puts his hands on your shoulders. “who’s robe is that? last time i checked you were in gryffindor, not ravenclaw.” you don’t need to look up to know who you were currently speaking with, “hello dream.” you could hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again, “hello y/n. take this off.” dream retorts with a hint of teasing, “no. i’m cold and i lost my robe. so techno let me borrow his.” the other tall boy next to you nods in agreement. “uh no. i don’t like the sight of this.” dream complains with an unsatisfied look on his face before tugging the robe off of your body, throwing it at technoblade and then proceeding to wrap his robe around your body, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “that’s better.” he doesn’t even spare a glance at the older boy as he leads you away while you try to at least say goodbye to technoblade. “bye- dream i swear to god, bye techno!”

while the both of you continue to the gryffindor tower, he doesn’t let his arm on your shoulders falter. “what’s the deal with you and that guy.” you stop in place, turn to look at dream and mime yourself zipping your lips as if you were saying, ‘you get nothing out of me.’ dream rolls his eyes before throwing you over his shoulder and continuing his way over to the common room. “okay this is unnecessary. put me down, i’m wearing a skirt.” lightly hitting his back with your fist. “don’t worry about it, my robe is covering it up.”

at the door of the entrance, the fat lady stares at you in confusion. “can you put me down?” dream lets out a grunt of disagreement, “no. just tell her the password so i can come in and snuggle you.” you take a breath in of anger, “no. i need to finish homework, plus i’m going to see you again tomorrow.” another grunt comes out of the boy before he says the password to your common room, the fat lady begrudgingly letting the both of you in. “what?! you know the password?” he chuckles before setting you down, “of course, sapnap told me. and i come in here all the time to hook up with different gryffindor girls.” your face of disgust makes a wheeze leave his lips, “i’m joking. i finish homework with sapnap in his room, not hook up with girls. i’ll have you know, i haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” you scoff before turning towards your room, “goodnight dream.” but before you can progress any further, he grabs your wrist, “no.” your face scrunches up. staring the boy up and down, another scoff leaves your lips, “what do you mean ‘no’. i’m not giving you an option.” he pouts and opens his arms, “i jus wanna cuddle.” your face scrunches up in disgust once more before you take a step back, “wasn’t it last week when you were being a bitch about my quidditch team.” his arms fall down in realization but the pout remains visible. slightly annoyed but empathetic, you walk over to him, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his waist, patting him on his back gently. while he embraces you back, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “can we cuddle?” you let out groans before letting out a deep sigh, “fine. but you have to promise not to be too grabby, like right now. i did not tell you to grab my butt.” dream sheepishly shys away from you and grabs the hem of shirt while he follows you up the stairs while you try to maneuver him so he can actually make it up the enchanted stairs that only the girl’s dorm.

when you enter your dorm, you’re met by the friendly faces of your roommates. “h-hey guys.” with the motion of their hands, they tell you scoot over to see dream standing behind you with a smirk on his face. before he could walk into the room, you shut the door in his face, wanting to speak in private with your roommates. “don’t tell anyone about this. he was begging to cuddle and would not leave until i agreed. he’ll be gone by midnight tonight and i promise i’ll make sure he’s quiet.” your roommates stare at you before bursting out in laughter, “you’re going soft y/n!” a look of shock rushes over your face before hushing them, “i am not.” they shake their heads in disagreement, making you roll your eyes. when you open the door to let dream back into your room, your roommates pack their homework and walk towards the door. one roommate holds the door open while the other still collects her things, “we’ll be seeing you later y/n. so have fun with dream.” you hide your face in your pillow, embarrassed from their current attitudes about your situation. when they leave, dream sits on your bed while you stand up and walk over to your closet and grab a change of clothes. “just lay on the bed and i’ll be out soon.” dream nods, boredly flipping through a random book he found on your bed.

in the bathroom, you tie your hair in a messy bun, change into some sweatpants and a random oversized t-shirt, you think its either sapnap’s or wilbur’s, take your contacts out and put your glasses on, before proceeding to brush your teeth and exiting the bathroom.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you stare down at dream, hugging your pillow. “y/n, can you replace the pillow?” your expression quickly shifts from a neutral face to a cringing face. you ignore his words, “scoot over.” you say while grabbing the book dream was reading before you came out, opening it and tucking your legs underneath your comforter. another sigh leaves your lips as you tap the top of your thighs twice, letting dream know that he can lay his head onto your legs, in which he gladly does. about thirty minutes pass and your hand drags itself through his hair, occasionally leaving to flip the page of your book. you stay super into your book until dream speaks up, “y/n.” you let out a mhm of acknowledgement, letting him know you’re listening. “i don’t want to cuddle your legs, i want to cuddle you.” a small okay is heard from you as you put the book on your dresser, tucking yourself into your bed. your back faces away from dream. a shiver rolls down your spine as he wraps his arms around your waist, resulting in him breathing down your neck. goosebumps arise on your body. in the awkward silence of the room, the only things you can hear are the loud thumps of your heart and the even breaths from dream.

when you wake up the next morning, you move your arms to stretch them, but fail to do so in the embrace of dream. staring at his peaceful face, free of any frowns he had shown last night, you brush his bangs out of his eyes. with a glance at the seeping sunlight, you slowly slip out of his embrace, walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day. before you exit the room, you glance over at the sleeping boy on your bed. you roll your eyes before walking over to his side and sitting down on the edge of the bed, gently caressing his messy hair. he stirs in his sleep for a few seconds and as he opens his eyes. the first things he sees is you before pulling you towards his chest with you going down with a yelp. “dream!” he nuzzles his head into your neck, mumbling something incoherent. “say that again?” he mumbles some more, “i don’t know what you’re saying.” you chuckle in-between each word, he moves his head away from your neck, “i said you smell good.” dream stretches as you pull away from him, walking over to the door leading to the common room. “go clean yourself up and come to breakfast.” dream sluggishly drags himself out of your bed before grabbing his robe and your wrist, proceeding to drag you towards the door, the stairs turning into a slide underneath him while you wait for the stairs to turn back, laughing loudly at him. at the bottom of the stairs, you meet the friendly faces of phil, fundy and sapnap.

“y/n, why was dream in your room last night?” phil asks just a bit sarcastic but with a joyful smile on his face. sapnap’s face morphs into a smirk as his eyes move from your figure to dream’s and then back to yours. “you,” he says while staring at you before turning to dream on the floor, “and you.” sapnap then proceeds to make kissy faces earning a smack from you and a chuckle from dream, earning dream a smack from you as well. “dream is leaving anyways.” you say while pushing him out of your common room. phil, fundy, sapnap, you and dream make your way down the hall, “dream. go to your room and change.” he pouts once again before wrapping his hand around yours. once phil notices, he walks between the both of you, separating you and dream, making you stand on either side of him. when you glance up at phil, he just gives you his signature kind smile before turning back to his conversation with fundy. before you notice, dream had disappeared to god knows where, you get pulled behind a pillar, not being noticed from the three of your friends. “shh, y/n.” his hand covers your mouth until he lets go, “dream! what was the point of this, we were with each other like five minutes ago.” he ignores your words and drags you towards the slytherin common room, finishing what he started earlier by holding your hand.

while you wait for dream to finish getting ready in his room, you sit in the common room, greeted by the not so friendly faces of other slytherins, disregarding wilbur sitting at your side, telling you about the dragon he was raising in the dark forest. when dream comes back out, the color of your uniform stands out so brightly in the dark green room. wilbur sits next to you with his beanie on. “wilbur, aren’t you tired? you have black circles under your eyes.” he shakes his head with optimism, “it’s for the aesthetic. don’t worry about them. oh hello dream!” your eyes shift from wilbur to dream. dream leads you out of the common room as the both of you walk down the quiet and empty halls towards breakfast. dream wraps his robe around your shoulders, “i know you get cold easily.” you look up at him with a small smile engulfed by sadness, “thanks.”

as you walk down the long hallway, you finally feel the courage to speak up. “dream,” you pause waiting for a response from the tall boy. he lets out a hum to let you know he’s listening, “why are you doing this?” the question slips from your lips with doubt and concern. “doing what?” dream answers back with his own question. “well for one,” you pause once again with uncertainty, “pretending to like me. just a week ago, you were being a jerk to me and all of a sudden, you just begin to pursue me. and i want to know why.” dream stops in place while you continue by yourself, “what do you mean pretend to like you? i do like you.” now it was your turn to stop, “no you don’t. you can’t just begin to like someone all of a sudden. nothing works like that. so, i’m going to ask you something and i want you to answer sincerely, okay?” dream’s face falls into a guilty expression as he stares at the floor, “how much?” you maintain the soft expression on your face while continuing to gaze at the tall boy, “fifteen galleons.” a tiny huff of air leaves your lips as you a soft small appears on your face in slight disbelief, eyes slightly tearing up. you walk away for a while before speaking once again, “i hope it was worth it.” you take off his robe and drop it on the floor as you walk away from him.

as you enter the great hall for breakfast, you sit next to phil quietly. with a small eye smile, you tell phil that you’re not that hungry and just take a sip out of your tea. “so , y/n. you and dream huh?” sapnap teases, “there’s nothing between us.” your cold tone resonates throughout the gryffindor table, “woah, no need to get your panties in a bunch.” he teases as the other boys around you laugh. angered, you stand up and grab his collar, pulling him towards you over the table, “i said there’s nothing. so fuck off and mind your own business.” your empty hand crunches up, turning your fist white. phil abruptly stands up and gently puts his hand on your shoulder as a signal to tell you to calm down. you could feel all eyes on you but could honestly care less. releasing his collar, the boy looks at you after being scolded by phil for butting into a girl’s business. “i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to that insensitive.” you snap out of your rage induced glare and decide to mutter a small apology as well before walking out of the hall.

“y/n!” another glare arises on your face at you look at the culprit that made you angry. “i’m sorry for the bet, but i was just using that as an excuse because i kept denying the fact that i like you.” dream attempts to grab your hand like he did earlier that day but you snatch your hand away. “don’t bother lying now because i didn’t even believe you earlier.” your reply marked with extreme sarcasm. you turn around to stomp towards your common room once again. “y/n, please. what will it take for you to realize that i actually like you.” with a glance over your shoulder, you look at dream one last time, “leave me the fuck alone.”

as the week passed, it was the day of your date with dream. you stayed in your dorm for most of the day, eventually going out to eat at meal times. dream waited for you at the bridge that leads to hogsmeade for hours until finally leaving when sapnap came to tell him that you weren’t coming.

on the day of your quidditch game with ravenclaw, you lay in bed, staring at the spot dream had once been in with you. you’ve seen dream around but never even glanced towards him, isolating yourself quietly with your small group of friends. dream, for the most part, left you alone besides the points where he hangs out with sapnap in the gryffindor common room. you rarely spoke and only did when it was necessary. before you realize, you’re in the shower room, getting dressed in your uniform. sapnap leads you towards the field and your team flies onto the field. technoblade flies up towards you in attempt to speak to you for the first time that week. “hey munchkin. how’s it going.” you drag your hands through your hair, messing it up after phil had worked so hard to keep it neat. “dream told me he liked me. but his antics started after i confronted him about his bet.” techno’s eyes soften as he ruffles your hair, “i don’t want to sour your mood even more, but he’s sitting in gryffindor stands right now. just for your own information.” you roll your eyes and fly over to your side, bat in hand. the huffs of your breaths could be seen in the snowy weather of winter.

for most of the game, you played extremely aggressive. you nearly hit sapnap once and actually hit fundy while ravenclaw scored over and over again. “y/n! get down here!” you hear the rough voice of your quidditch captain call, “what’s wrong with you l/n? you never play this recklessly. sit out this game, we can have someone else sub for you.” dream watches you from the stands. you stare at your captain in disbelief before nodding and walking off the field.

walking down the hallways, dream follows you with silent steps in order to not attract any unwanted attention. “what do you want dream?” you ask without turning around to look at the boy. “y/n,” before he can finishes, he pauses, allowing time for you to interrupt, “i asked for what you wanted, not my name.” you let out the sarcastic and sappy reply. “y/n, i’m sorry i put you in such a shitty situation and because of that, inevitably hurt our relationship. the stupid relationship that makes me smile every time i think about you or when someone mentions your name.” dream walks towards you with caution while also watching your reaction. once he realizes that you’re okay with his presence, he pulls you into his embrace. your face gets buried into his chest. “i hate you. i hate that you made me believe you loved me. i hate that i like you despite you being an ass. i hate that we have an unspoken rivalry. i hate how you make butterflies appear with any spoken word and how you’re a touchy person that needs to hold my hand wherever we go.” dream’s chuckles echo in the hall along with his body. “i didn’t know you hated me so much.” you push away from him with a small smirk on your face, “i do. you just have a punchable face.” dream lets out an exaggerated gasp as he holds his hand over his heart, “i’m offended.” he pouts once again, a smile expanding on his face.

“but will you officially do me the honor of going out on a date with me on tomorrow? no bets, no money, nothing. just a boy in love.” you cringe at first then pretend to think about it for a while before finally making eye contact with him, “no.” his smile doesn’t falter, “okay then, i’ll see you at the bridge at nine thirty.” you raise your eyebrows in confusion as the boy walks three steps ahead of you, “come on y/n.” he taunts as if you are a dog. with the roll of your eyes, you skip up towards him and he wraps one of his arms around your shoulder. “you’re not busy right now, are you?” a small laugh leaves your lips as you stare at the tall boy, “well, i just kicked out of my quidditch game, so no? but then again, i’m sort of sweaty so i might need to take a shower.” he ignores you once again and continues walking towards your dorm. as he begins to sound out the password, you cut him off. “look dream, i like you okay?” dream nods with a sly smirk, “but not enough for you to come in.” patting him on his back, you tell the lady the password and walk into the common room. his smirk falters as you leave him standing outside the common room door. dream’s eyes stay on you until he fat lady closes the portrait door. “rejected!” she sings before dream walks away with the roll of his eyes.

the next day at around nine twenty, you walk up from your bed. “oh my god!” you yell checking the time. running to your bathroom, you turn the your sink on quickly, brushing your teeth and your hair before running out to go change. at nine twenty five, you run down the busy halls, occasionally bumping shoulders with some random people. “y/n? where are you going?” fundy asks while watching you run. you stop briefly, “date. dream. waiting. late.” breathing out each word slowly due to your lack of breath. as you begin to start running again, phil and fundy watch you receding figure. by nine thirty two, you make it to the entrance of the bridge, seeing dream standing there with a small smile on his face. “you’re late.” you let out coughs and heave out heavy breaths before speaking again. “sorry. i woke up later than expected.” while you try to catch your breath, dream stares at you lovingly before getting a mischievous glint in his eyes, “am i that breathtaking y/n?” a frown appears on your face before you begin to walk back towards the castle, “no, y/n. i was kidding.”he chuckles as he grabs your hand, the warmth from his hand immediately seeping into your cold hand.

after walking around for a while hearing the crisp crunch of the snow, dream’s hand remains in yours. to be honest, he hasn’t even let your hand go since the beginning of your date. while you were at honeydukes, he held your hand, at dervish and banges, he held your hand, scrivencraft’s, dream. hand. your. hand. he would constantly whine whenever you tried to let go and if you did, he would opt to putting an arm over your shoulder. you walk around with dream until finally reaching the three broomsticks.

you tell dream to get the two of you a table while you go to order drinks. while you wait to pick up the drinks at the counter, you turn around to see dream with a posse full of girls around the tiny table. with the role of your eyes, you dismiss his cocky attitude and turn back towards the lady making your drinks. “is that the boy you came in with?” you life your head off of your palm and look up at the older lady, “yes ma’am.” loud giggles could be heard from behind you as you continue to ignore them, your clenched fist turning slightly whiter by the minute. the older lady looks down at you with sympathy, “you’re jealous.” taken aback from her absurd comment, you look at her with disbelief and large eyes. “jealous? jealous of that?” you say while turning around to point at dream and the girls basically hanging off of his body. “there’s a certain amount of pride a lady can hold herself to and there is no way i’m stooping down that low. sure, call me jealous if you want, but don’t compare me to that mess over there.” you slam down one galleon and walk away from the counter and out the door. dream watches your whole interaction happen and abrubtly stands up after watching you exit the pub. “sorry ladies, but my girl needs some tending to.” he walks out, ignoring the symphony of pleads.

“stupid. stupid. how could i have gotten so mad. she was just making an observation.” you murmur to yourself, feeling apologetic to the older lady who was just as surprised as you after you went off on your tangent. you sit on a bench, which overlooking the mountains near the school. you hit your head with the palm of your hand continuously until a warm hand stop you. “why’d you run away bunny?” you slip your wrist out of his grasp, “not run. walked. and it was because of something that happened to me and the waitress. she may or may not have said something i disagreed with and i may or may not have gone off about it at her.” dream sits down next to you, leaving no space in-between the both of you despite the bench being able to seat four people. “oh bunny-“ once again annoyed, you interrupt him, “why are you calling me bunny?” he chuckles as he watches you stand up to walk off, “because,” dream reciprocates your action and stands up as well, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you into his chest. “despite you being in gryffindor, you’re like a cute bunny to me. you’re the smartest person i know and love being around people. despite those traits, you are also bratty, willful and vengeful. it takes a certain person to deal with me and you work with me. we’re like the modern life lady and the tramp.” hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist.

“now bunny, what did the lady say to you?” you let out a small murmur of no before pulling away from him. “you don’t need to know.” a mischievous smile erupts on his face, “but i want to know.” you shake your head in response, “but you don’t need to.” with a slight side step, you stare up at the boy. “bunny.” he replies sternly, “if you don’t reply in five seconds, something bad is going to happen to you.” he uses his fingers count down to zero, “five, four, three,” in the meantime, you begin to run away from the boy, “get away from me!” you yell as you try to the reach the sanctuary of the presence of other students. before you could, you get tackled to the ground, “i asked you nicely y/n.” a second before you could repent, he begins to tickle you. “no. i’m sorry. i’ll tell you.” you wheeze out, “its too late bunny.” he continues to tickle you for what feels like hours, on the cold snow on the ground, until he gets tackled off of you, “get off of her!” you sit up to see fundy on top of dream, pinning his hands down while sapnap grabs dreams legs. their interrogation of dream gets interrupted by your laughs. their attention gets turned towards you, “you dunces. he wasn’t attacking me, he was tickling me.” fundy and sapnap’s faces turns into a surprised look as they turn to look at each other before looking back at you and getting off of dream. “my bad bro. we didn’t know.” sapnap replies as he and fundy scurry off to the safety of philza.

you stare at dream with an amused smirk as he continues to lay on the ground, pouting at the sudden interaction. you reach your hand down to help him up, “why couldn’t you make friends with hot girls that would tackle me.” before he could grab your hand, you pull it back and walk away, teasing him. “wait y/n, are you actually offended from what i said?” dream stands up and jogs over towards you, “cause i love that you have friends in general.” your face scrunches up as you stare him, “okay, fox.” now it was time for his face to scrunch up, “what did you just call me.” he says, not stating it as a question but rather a statement. “i called you fox.” his eyesbrows raise in confusion, “i’m bunny and you’re fox.” dream stares at you before grabbing your hand and walking towards the castle, “okay, i’ll be fox if you’re bunny.” smiles erupt on both of your faces as you continue to joke around on your trip towards the castle.

the first time you say i love you back to dream is from the day he pouted the entire night and while also hiding from you in the safety of his room. “beau, what’s wrong with you today?” when he finally looks up at you, he tries to keep a stern expression, but it falls into a smile as he pulls you close to him. “why don’t you ever say i love you back?” small chuckles erupt from your body as you play with his dirty blonde hair, “because i thought you knew how much i loved you. but if you need confirmation, you could’ve just told me.” he groans in slight embarrassment, “i love you so much to the point that i would do anything you ask me to. i would even kill sapnap for you.” now it was dream’s turn to chuckle, “thank you y/n. i love you too.” for the rest of the night, he didn’t let you go, meaning, you had to sneak back into your common room at four in the morning, hiding from the watchful gaze of philza.

about five months pass, and your relationship with dream prospers. at any quidditch game, you or him would be spotted in the crowd, or actually versing each other. in that case, he would stay so close to you, occasionally throwing around flirty comments at you or basically handing you the bludger. other times, when you study in the library with techno or phil, he always sits in the corner of the library with george, never being secretive. “what george? say that again.” leaving you to ignore him. whenever parties occur, you always try to walk around and mingle while he attaches himself to your side, greeting everyone you talk to. when he gets deadbeat drunk, he becomes clingy times one million, “y/n, don’t leave me.” and you reply, ‘this is my room.” cries and loves to snuggles into your neck when you come back a minute later. you’re not gonna lie but man is in lsg, little spoon gang. he loves being little spoon when he’s drunk but sober dream is another story. always has to be big spoon to keep his reputation up and has absolutely no recollection of being little spoon, so its your little secret with drunk dream. when you do your homework, he lays on your bed, usually taking a nap despite his eight page essay being due the next day. weekly hogsmeade dates, will literally buy you anything you set your eyes on, not even caring about the price. sometimes you wonder where that money even comes from. in total, will chase you down nonstop while you run away from his antics.

your relationship is well known around the school as the complex bunny and the sly fox.

philza still doesn’t approve though.

#dream #dream fluff #dream imagines #dream mcyt #dream smp #dream x reader #dream x you #dreamwastaken #dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken x you #hogwarts au #slytherin!dream x gryffindor!reader #sytherin #gryffindor #slytherin!dream #gryffindor!reader #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken imagine #mcyt x reader #dream angst #dreamwastaken angst #x reader #mcyt imagine #dreamwastaken oneshot #dream oneshot #mcyt oneshots

[6rookie-writer0110]

The stars are our safe haven

Lena Luthor x Reader

Summary - Lena and Reader for the first time in real life.

Lena is in her office and it's been a long day. She has been dealing with a lot and she is feeling stressed out. She looks at the time and it's late, Lena grabbed the Obsidian North's contact lenses and puts them on. She looks around and she is in the same location... She is at a cabin by the lake and she starts to set the chessboard.

“You are on time,” Lena said.

“It's rude to be late for our game. Should we start?” You said.

You and Lena never met in real life, you met her through Obsidian North online. You never played chess in real life because it didn't interest you. But when you met Lena that changed. She always beat you in chess and she would explain how she won.

Lena never saw your face because you have a mask on, she doesn't. Every night and on the weekends, you meet up with Lena to play chess and just talk. You never once took off the mask and she doesn't pressure you but she is curious how you look.

“You weren't online for long yesterday. Is everything okay?” You said.

Lena sighed “Too much is going on. I needed a break and I came here”

“We don't have to play chess if you don't want to. I know you would be scared to play against me” You said.

You made Lena laugh and she rolled her eyes at you.

“Y/n, you do know I beat you 59 times and you haven't won one game,” Lena said.

“That's not how I remember,” You said.

She laughed again.

“Let's start the game, y/n,” Lena said.

You only told Lena your first name. She does know that you know about her family drama, but you never once asked for a favor or blackmailed her. You and Lena feel comfortable around each other and have deep conversations with each other. Lena hasn't opened up to anyone in a long time.

You and Lena start to play chess, and she won the first game. Lena does know about your family and your life. Lena has developed feelings for you, she does wonder now and then if you would feel the same way as her. Sometimes she would doubt that you won't like her because of family and other things.

“How’s your work,” Lena said.

“They cut my hours... So I'm learning less and my rent went up” You said.

“Oh... That must be rough” Lena said.

“It’s life. It was my mom’s birthday so we bought her gifts and a cake” You said.

“Last time, I celebrated my birthday was when I six years ago when my mother passed away. The Luthors are not really into celebrating together as a family unless it's an evil plan” Lena said.

Lena won the game the second time. You and Lena play again, but this time you set the board.

“Wow, now that's rough,” You said.

“We can play one more game. So... Um dating anyone?” Lena said.

“Nope. I was interested in someone but it wouldn't have worked out. You?” You said.

You look at the board and you think about what to do.

“I am interested in someone... But I don't know” Lena said.

Lena beat you in three moves.

“How the hell did you win?” You asked.

She laughed and she starts to explain.

---

A couple of days later...

You had a rough day and you put on the contact lenses. Lena is there, she can sense something is wrong by the look of your eyes. Lena hugged you and waited for you to say something. You like Lena’s arms around you, you felt safe.

“I won't pressure you to talk about it. When you want to talk about it, I will listen” Lena said.

“Thanks. I'm not ready to talk about it but yeah, I had a rough day” You said.

She kissed your head, she isn't sure why she did it. But she thought you would get angry about it but you didn't. After the hug, you and Lena talked about something else.

“Y/n, I was thinking maybe we can meet in real life?” Lena asked.

“Are you serious?” You asked.

“Yes. But only if you want to, I don't want to force you into something that you're uncomfortable with” Lena said.

“Can I think about it?” You asked.

“Of course,” Lena said.

You nod and she gave you a small smile.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✫

You have been thinking about what Lena said about meeting in person. You start to get ready for work, put on your headphones, and left your apartment. You start to listen to a podcast on how to get better at chess. You have strong feelings for Lena, but you doubt yourself and think you're not good enough for her. You always feel comfortable around her. You are having a hard time, thinking about meeting Lena in person.

You put on the contact lenses, she smiled. You asked Lena about her day and she asked about yours.

“Lena, I think we should meet in person,” You said.

“Are you sure, y/n?” Lena asked.

“Yeah, I'm sure. We have been friends online for almost five years. Maybe... We can meet somewhere in public at a cafe shop?” You said.

Lena smiled “yes, we can meet at a cafe shop. How I will know it's you?”

“I will wear a plain blue shirt,” You said.

“Okay, we will meet at The Jolly Goat Coffee Bar, tomorrow at four?” Lena said.

“Sounds good to me, Lena,” You said.

You and Lena smiled at each other.

---

The next day...

You are at the cafe shop. You're freaking out and Lena hasn't arrived yet. You keep looking at the time on your phone over and over. A few minutes later, you felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked up.

“Y/n?” Lena asked.

“Hey L-Lena,” You said.

She sits across from you. She is feeling nervous and she bites her bottom lip.

“Sorry, I'm late the meeting went longer than expected,” Lena said.

“It's okay. I'm feeling really nervous right now” You said.

“Me too. But I'm happy that you wanted to meet and I got to see how you look” Lena said.

“I knew eventually the mystery wasn't going to last long,” You said nervously.

She nods.

“Should we order? My treat” Lena said.

“Yeah, let's order,” You said.

You and Lena are starting to feel less nervous. You love her green eyes and she can't stop smiling at you. You and Lena stayed at the cafe shop for a while, then left and walked around the park for a little bit.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✫

Since that day, you and Lena did meet up in person now and then. But other days, you meet her online. You and Lena still play chess together. Tonight changed everything

“Wow, y/n I can't believe you finally won a game,” Lena said.

You have a big smile on your face.

“To be honest, I have been reading books about chess, listening to podcasts about chess and I wanted to impress you,” You said.

“You wanted to impress me by getting better at chess? That is cute. Well, I'm glad I lost to you” Lena said.

“We will keep playing chess?” You asked.

“We would still keep playing, y/n,” Lena said.

You smiled but the next game you lost again. But you are still feeling hyped about the game you won.

----

Today is Lena’s birthday and you wanted to do something special for her. For her, it's just another normal day and she only told you when is her birthday. You bought a small cake, a cute gift and you surprise Lena at her loft.

You have been to her loft before, she gave you the code to the keypad. She didn't know that you were coming over but she is happy to see you. You follow Lena to the kitchen, she is drinking wine and working on her laptop.

“Close your eyes, Lena,” You said.

“Okay,” Lena said.

Lena closed her eyes. You take out the cake, place the candles then light the candles with a lighter.

“Okay, Lena open your eyes,” You said.

Lena is surprised by what you just did for her.

“Oh y/n, you shouldn't have,” Lena said.

“Lena happy birthday. I wanted to surprise you, hope you like it” You said.

“I love it. Nobody has ever done this for me” Lena said.

Lena hugged you tight and she can't stop smiling. She stares into your eyes and you feel her lips on yours. You kiss her back, she pulls away and she apologized.

“Y/n, I am so sorry I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. Y/n, I like you as more than a friend... I have liked you for a while and if you don't feel the same, I hope we can be friends I don't want you out of my life” Lena said.

You are speechless about what she said. You try to say something but you just stutter.

“Lena... Lena, I do feel the same way I like you so much. But I feel I'm not good enough for you. I have a dead-end job, I can't take you to a expensive restaurant and I still live with my family... I can't afford to live on my own and I have two jobs” You said.

She gently grabs your hand.

“Y/n, I like you for who you are. What you did right now, I love it that you surprised me with a cake for my birthday. It doesn't bother me that you live with your family” Lena said.

You gave her a small smile.

“You should blow out the candles before the wax gets on the cake,” You said.

Lena kissed your cheek and she blows out the candles. You and Lena sit on the couch and eat cake together.

“Do you want to make it official?” Lena asked.

“Yes, I want to make it official. Like the cake?” You said.

She nods “its really good cake. Thank you, y/n”

You stay the night, later you and Lena cuddle in bed and watch Disney movies. During the movie, you and Lena start to make out but it doesn't go further. You feel her hand under your shirt on your lower back, she smiled and she keeps kissing you.

#lena luthor x reader #supergirl imagine #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #gender neutral fanfic

[outofsstyles]

a/n: This is by far THE MOST requested fic I’ve ever had and (a year later) it’s finally here!! First of all, sorry that it took me so long but when I first wrote Wildest Dreams I never intended on it having a follow up, but the amount of love I got from it was so overwhelming that I decided to put this together for you all :) I’m not gonna lie, I’m a bit nervous about it, considering the amount of requests I’ve had the past year, I know there’s gonna be a lot of expectations and I wanted to do something a bit different so it’s not too predictable lol. So yeah, as always, feedback is very much welcomed!! If you enjoy please reblog it to support my writing, it would mean the world to me <3

word count: 13.7k

warnings: none!

concept: It’s Evan’s birthday and he decides to do something a bit different.

Wildest Dreams: read part 1 here :)

                                               ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

In the last two steps, you have to use your leg to support the box as it starts to slowly slip down your fingers. This serves as a reminder to start exercising again now that the midterm is over — meaning that you should finally give in to Nia’s pleas to join her in the free week of Pilates classes she got when signing in at the gym, “Exercising is one of the best ways to relieve stress!” She would argue, to which you’d simply reply with something along the lines of: “So does binging another trashy reality tv show!”

Thankfully, no one seems to notice your struggle, sparing you the embarrassment of listening to their teases due to your difficulty in carrying one of the smallest boxes of the bunch. Nate barely glances at you once you finally reach the car to hand him the box, only shooting the longest smile you’ve ever seen coming from him—which somehow still manages to be probably the quickest when compared to any other regular person. His girlfriend, who stands with hands on her hips, entirely held his attention. Nia’s purple strands of hair poke out of her half-bun in every direction and her bottom lip has found its permanent spot between her teeth as her eyes fixate on the vehicle in front of her, barely blinking.

“Everything alright, Ni?” You prompt, trying to even your breathing. “Forgot something? There’s still time to check.”

“It’s not that.” She mumbles, shaking her head to break out of her thoughts. “My keyboard doesn’t fit.” Nia nods at the instrument lying on top of the car’s ceiling.

“Oh,” You say, frowning your lips as you take in her stressed figure. Clearing your throat, you attempt to blurt out a joke, “Maybe it’s a sign you shouldn’t move it and stay right here in our little flat with creaky doors.”

She breathes out a sharp laugh, finally looking at you as she drops her arms. “Don’t start.” She warns, “You promised; no crying today.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good at holding back the tears.” You give her a soft smile, pulling her smaller frame into a hug. The sudden reality of your best friend and roommate leaving you hitting you at once. “Gonna miss you, Ni.”

You feel her sigh into your shoulder, arms circling around your middle. “I’ll be ten minutes away.”

“Not the same.”

“I know.”

The two of you sway in silence for a moment, and you watch from over her shoulder as Nate attempts to awkwardly pick up the keyboard, almost dropping it on the sidewalk in the process. He grunts, the instrument tilting in his arms, and you giggle as you hear Nia sigh once more. Tightening your arms around her, you release each other as she turns to check on her boyfriend who holds the instrument as you would a newborn — except this one is half his size and hard as a wood plank.

He glances between the both of you, helpless. “Uh, where does this go?”

“You can put it with the other big boxes upstairs, babe. We’ll take them Sunday.” Nia says, moving to close the trunk. She looks back at him, calling back in a sing-like voice before he disappears inside, “Thank you!”

You lean back against the car, a playful pout plumping your bottom lip. “Am I only seeing you again on Sunday, then?”

“Nope, I’ll pick you up for Evan’s birthday — did you forget about it already?”

You have. “Of course not. It’s on — tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow?” Nia gasps, eyes widening. “Holy shit, tomorrow’s Friday.”

You nod slowly, just as shocked as she is about how quickly the past couple of weeks have flown by. Between piles of book reports and stress-tear-stained essays during midterms week, you also had to find some time to help Nia with packing boxes while searching for a new roommate for yourself. If you managed a five-hour sleep on these past days, that would have been a well-rested night. So you can’t really blame yourself for forgetting about Evan’s birthday when Nia herself had it slipping through her mind.

“This is an emergency,” Nia says, eyes focusing on a point beyond you and, you feel like, if you listen close enough, you can hear the engines inside her head working. “I’ll have come here earlier so you can help me with my outfit.”

You chuckle. “What even is the theme this year?”

“He didn’t tell me,” Nia says in a huff. “But, on the bright side, I don’t think this year he’ll do anything too crazy — he was too busy these last couple months with that short film I told you about, remember?”

“Evan doing something low key? That’s a first.” You raise your eyebrows, skeptical.

“I mean, I don’t know. I’m just guessing.” Nia shrugs, picking at her nails. “I’m only saying because he mentioned once he was only inviting, like, twenty people.”

Now, this is a surprise. “I’m glad I made the cut, then.”

It’s not a secret to anyone who’s ever had any kind of interaction with Evan that he’s fond of the dramatics of life — his bright-colored outfits with mismatching patterns being the first example that comes to mind — and that reflects as well in his events. Especially when it comes to his birthday.

To be fair, you’ve only actually been to two birthday parties of his so far — considering the invitation usually finds you because he’s close to Nia and sees you as some sort of extension of her. Nevertheless, they were both impactful enough that left a clear impression of how much he enjoys celebrating himself. Last year in particular you remember quite well. It was what he called “Evaney” themed; being a mix of himself and his favorite artist: Britney Spears. And, while you and Nia showed up as one of at least fifteen different variations of the Baby One More Time schoolgirl outfit, Evan pulled a perfect match of the Oops! I Did It Again red bodysuit that he got one of his fashion student friends to tailor for him, as well as freshly dyed beach blonde hair to suit it. He even went as far as photoshopping pictures of himself on Britney’s body and had them printed on posters hung on every single room of the house. There were even custom-made cups and napkins with them — two of them that Nia stole at the end of the party still sit somewhere in your kitchen to this day.

Another particular thing you remember quite clearly was that there were enough people crowded in his living room to fill up your entire apartment, as you recall. And that’s about how a typical event at his home is like — even on his friendsmas dinner there were much more than just twenty people eating turkey out of disposable hot pink plates. So, Nia’s information leaves you wondering what he could have in mind for tomorrow with such a limited list of people.

Before you can voice your wonders to her, though, Nate pushes through the entrance door again. You can tell he, much like you minutes ago, is trying to cover his heavy breathing. “I left it on top of those big boxes with a bunch of books in ‘em.”

“Brilliant! Thank you, baby.” Nia grins, wrapping an arm around his middle. “By the way, we just remembered Evan’s birthday’s tomorrow.”

“Is it tomorrow already?” Nate asks, and you hold back a giggle at the way his face scrunches in discontent. He hates going to Evan’s to a point that’s nearly comical. “Fuck’s sake.”

“And I think I’ll come here early so we can get ready together.” Nia nods towards you.

Nate grunts. “Do I have to go this time?” 

“Of course, darling.” She rises to her tiptoes to pinch his cheek, to which he brushes it off.

Nate looks at you, and you only send him a tight smile in solidarity. The two of you share similar experiences with Evan, considering the only reason either of you even gets invited is that because you’re close to Nia, and she’s close to Evan. Although you like Evan, even if you’re not that close with him, you can still put on your social mask for a couple of hours and have fun at his parties. Nate, on the other hand, is likely the least sociable person you’ve ever met, and it’s obvious how uncomfortable he gets every time. 

Nia seems to sense how tense he gets as well, because she steps in front of her boyfriend, finding his eyes with her doe-like ones. “I mean, if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to.”

He sighs, “Of course I’ll go with you.” He looks up at you. “Maybe this time we can actually count how many faces of his we can see from the couch.”

This time you don’t hold back a giggle. “I have a feeling we’ll have an easier time this year.”

“Hope so.” Nate taps on Nia’s back. "Let's go, then? Is everything you need in the trunk?”

“Yup.” She answers, circling the car and opening the door to the passenger’s side. Before entering, she gives you one last look. “Do you want me to bring anything for you tomorrow?”

“I’m good.”

“‘kay!” She enters, closing the door behind her in a click and leaning over Nate to wave at you from his window. “See you tomorrow! Don’t cry too hard tonight!”

“I won’t!” You wave back.

Watching as the car pulls back, before driving away and disappearing around the corner, there’s a light breeze that raises goosebumps on the exposed skin of your arms. You cross them under your chest, leaning back into the wall of your building, not quite ready to go back to your empty home yet. The seconds blend into minutes and you stand there The promise you made to Nia not even a minute ago already pooling in your eye, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it anyway, you let it tickle its way down your cheek.

A rougher gust of wind hits you and, this time, you turn to go inside.

                                              ~*~ ~*~  ~*~

The days are still not long enough so that the sun can shine proudly at seven in the afternoon, but as spring just about rounds the corner there’s still a golden glow as the rays provide one last warmth before disappearing on the horizon. And that’s how the sky greets you once you step out of your building to make your way towards Evan’s house for his birthday.

As planned, Nia arrived at yours with plenty of time so the two of you could help each other get ready, a bag filled with clothes she’s just taken to Nate’s yesterday under her arm for you to help her choose. “I’m thinking something monochromatic tonight.” She said as she walked in, making you jump in your spot on the couch as you didn’t hear her using the spare key. “I’m just not sure what color.” 

She ended up choosing red. There was an old box of red hair dye you found lost inside the bathroom cabinet after Nia left — along with two different brands of shaving cream, although those belonging to Nate — and, after presenting it to her, she decided to go all for it, taking it as a sign. Nate showed up just about an hour after his girlfriend, still in his work attire and barely batting an eye at Nia’s new hair color as she blew dried it. The only comment leaving his mouth being, “You look like a tomato,” before kissing her forehead and excusing himself for a nap while the two of you finished getting ready.

What neither of you realized was that Nia’s last-minute decision took more time than you predicted, giving you barely enough time to get dressed. To her, that wasn’t exactly an inconvenience considering she had an outfit ready to match any color she wanted — in this case, was a red-dyed denim two-piece. and a matching jacket that ended up discarded after she noticed it covered her newest shoulder tattoo (though you tried to argue she could just have Nate carry it so she could wear it considering she eventually would get cold at some point). To you, however, was more of a stressful task, seeing you hadn’t taken in mind to think of an outfit beforehand. So you ended up just going with the safest option that didn’t give you a lot of room to overthink, choosing to finish your makeup on the way so Evan wouldn’t have any of your heads on a plate for being late.

You’ve found that applying mascara on a moving vehicle is not the easiest task, as Nia holds your elbow to help you keep steady while talking nonstop with the driver about a topic you stopped paying any mind to about ten minutes ago.

“I’m loving our black and red moment, by the way.” She turns to you, loosening her hold as you finish the last coat. “You look like one of those hot businesswomen with your teenage daughter who likes to dress like an animated character.”

You laugh at her comparison, only now noticing the discrepancy between both your outfits. Without even realizing it, you also ended up going for the monochromatic look. Except unlike Nia’s, yours completely lacks any color. “That’s actually the best comparison you could make.”

“I know — You can take a left right here — Here, I have lip gloss.” Nia fetches a small tube from her jacket (that she ended up taking, after all), presenting it to you.

“Do you not have lipstick?”

“Are you not planning on smudging it later?” Nia wiggles her eyebrows, teasing. The hint behind her words makes you roll your eyes, snatching the lip gloss from her hand without bothering to give her an answer. There was about a month or so, just before winter rolled around, that Nia felt as if she had a mission to get you with someone. You suspect, knowing too well how her mind works, that she must’ve felt some sort of guilt for what happened during her film project last year. It was clear that her attempts came from a place of good heart, but this doesn’t mean that it made them any less annoying. However, after her plans to move in with Nate became more concrete, her cupid persona seemed to have disappeared, or so you’d thought. But now that there’s nothing else filling her mind anymore, it looks like she’s back at it, and you can’t help but snort. “What? I’m just saying-”

“You say a lot of things, most of them are incorrect.” You say, “I’m not smudging anything tonight. Not on a party with twenty people, for fuck’s sake.”

“Don’t say that before — right there! The big house on the corner!” Nia leans over the console, signaling to the driver where to park. It’s so sudden that you notice how he jumps just slightly from his seat, chuckling to yourself at how Nate snaps his eyes at her. 

The front of Evan’s Victorian home is unusually quiet once you step out onto the sidewalk. So much so that, if it weren’t for the lined cars parked along the street and filling his driveway, you would’ve thought you’d typed in the wrong address. 

The discrepancy is clear to you when compared to other gatherings Evan hosts in his house, but especially for his birthday. Last year, you could hear Toxic blasting from his place from the moment you turned on his street, and a small crowd gathered on his front yard — most of which you recall being comprised of people plastered out of their minds, particularly one semi-naked man who was using one lamppost as a strip pole while swinging a stuffed snake

That’s more or less the standard one could expect when invited to a party at Evan’s. So, to find the street as silent as any regular day is, to an understanding, odd. 

“Are you sure it’s the right date?” You ask as the metal creak of the front gate mends with gushes of wind whistling through the air.

“Yup,” Nia says simply, walking in front of you. “You can hear the music inside, shush.”

You come quiet, listening in, and, surely, you can hear the faint keys of a piano coming from the other side of the stone walls, but it only brings up more questions to your head than answers. Evan seems like the last person on Earth who would listen to classical music. Deciding not to voice your question this time, you follow short behind Nia, kicking some loose stones on the gravel path leading to the front door.

There’s no need for more than a single knock for it to open almost immediately, revealing a lace-clad Evan downing the last bits of his wine. Without the barrier you can hear the music more clearly, the keys of the piano meshing in a peculiar way, not like anything you’ve ever heard in a classical song— at least not ten years ago when you tried to learn piano for a year before giving up.

“Look at my favorite people!” Evan says with his purple-stained lips, pulling Nia for a hug with the arm that’s not holding the door open while pointing at a spot behind her. “Did you greet Jonathan when you passed him? It’s his birthday as well.”

He points to a spot where a gnome statue sits in the dry grass, face painted in clown makeup. Nate’s voice comes from behind you, “Christ.” 

“Nate!” Evan chirps, going straight for the man standing with a sharp smile and throwing his arms around him. “You know you’re my favorite grumpy, right?”

Nate only taps on the shorter man’s back, quickly moving to Nia’s side as soon as he’s free from the embrace. With that, Evan turns to you, hands finding your elbows as he takes you in, “And what have you been up to, bug? It's been ages.”

“You know… Books and… Stuff.” You chuckle, brushing it off. “Happy birthday, E.”

“Thank you!” He claps his hands together. “Now, c’mon, let’s get all of you started.”

Following him inside, you’re met with a glittery box standing right next to the entrance; rolls of tape seal it shut, and a hand-sized hole has been cut on top of the lid. You try to peek at what could be inside, but strings of colorful crepe paper are stuck to the hole, making it harder to know its contents.

Evan picks up the box, holding it to his side. “So, I need each of you to grab a piece of paper inside the box. There will be a number in it but for now just hold on, drink, and chat while waiting for further instructions.” His voice lowers at the end to give his words more of a mystery behind them.

Nate tenses in front of you and you have to keep yourself from chuckling at his desperate gaze moving from the box to his girlfriend as he moves uncomfortably on his feet. Nia, however, only gives him a pat on his back, barely looking at her boyfriend as she does a little dance in excitement. “Oh, this feels fun.” She says, quickly reaching her hand inside the box and retrieving a piece of paper. “Mysterious, but fun. What do you have in mind, sir?”

“Nothing too crazy this year, darling, you can relax — We’re all too tired.” He moves the box towards Nate, who reluctantly reaches inside. “Just something to mesh people together that won’t give me too much of a headache to clean tomorrow.”

“Smart.” You say, peeking at the box as it’s presented to you before reaching for a paper inside, quickly reading the number eight written on it before folding the piece between your fingers.

“Nice! As always, drinks in the kitchen. We’re starting in ten minutes!” Evan claps, hushing the three of you further inside.

Surprisingly, this time around there are no posters of his face in sight as you follow Nia and Nate to the kitchen. There’s a mild mash of voices coming from the living room — where the sound of the piano is the loudest, and you wonder if he got an actual piano or if it’s just a Bluetooth speaker —, but it’s not nearly as loud as you’re used to from past times. The lighting has been lowered to a buttery yellow; you realize once you enter the kitchen that feels too bright to your eyes in contrast to the hallway.

“Is there any alcohol?” You wonder out loud, and Nia glances at you with her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. “What? I’m just asking ‘cause everyone is unusually quiet.”

“There’s wine and — what are these guys right here?” She picks up one out of four plastic jars sitting on the kitchen island, reading the label stuck to it out loud, “Strawberry Mary — ooh, this looks fun.”

You reach for the other three to check their contents, but all have names similar to the one Nia now fills her cup with — fruity, yet mysterious: Lana Banana, Jenny Berry Mix, and Pineapple Suzan. “Did he come up with these?” You chuckle, reaching for the berry mix.

“It was probably Adam,” Nia says, and you frown. “That bartender guy? The one with the pet snakes.”

“Oh, yeah. I know him.”

The room comes quiet as you serve yourself, and only after you glance up you realize a tension lingering in the air. Nate stands awkwardly in a corner, eyes fixed on Nia as he moves his head around subtly. Glancing between the two of them, you notice how their expressions change as they keep their eyes locked, not a single word being uttered out loud. To you, it almost feels as if they are reading each other’s minds, and the heat of their silent argument becoming clear once Nate huffs, shaking his head. 

Nia clears her throat, seemingly uncomfortable, shooting you a knowing look. It’s only when she gives you a toothless smile that you realize the silent question behind it. “Uhm, I’m going to check if there are any sweets outside.”

Beelining towards the doorway, you quickly make your way out of the room. The hallway is empty and, from where you stand awkwardly in the middle of it, you can tell Evan’s left his spot by the front door, meaning he’s likely gone to the living room where the rest of the guests are. You can hear them chatting, although like you previously pointed, the voices are much more controlled than what you’re used to, and that makes you oddly flustered by the thought of walking in alone. 

Considering the limited amount of invitations this year, the chances of you knowing anyone are slim and, to add to your sudden nervousness, most of the people from Evan’s closest circle of friends are — like himself — inexplicably intimidating. This is mostly because it feels like this unspoken competition that everyone has settled with each other, to subtly brag about your success whilst simultaneously pretending to be impressed about the other’s accomplishments. And for you specifically, considering you’re not part of this artist clique that they lock themselves into, it feels particularly tiresome to be part of those interactions. 

So, you opt to wait for Nia, pretending to admire one peculiar painting hanging on a wall opposite to where the doorway leading to the living room stands. Every so often, you catch yourself glancing over your shoulder one way or the other, either towards the kitchen to check if your friends are joining you, or to the doorway where the rest of the guests are in. At one point, the voices get louder, joining in a laugh before tangling together in a mess of noise you can’t make sense of. It’s after a minute that you hear footsteps coming from the living room, making you freeze on your spot, carefully turning your back to whoever’s about to catch you avoiding the party, and focusing on the piece you’ve been staring at for the past five minutes.

The painting you first thought was just random strokes of earth tones abstractly put together you now realize it’s a man and it doesn’t take you more than a second or two to recognize Evan’s side profile in a peach shade. Your hand claps on top of your mouth as you fight the urge to laugh. The sound comes out muffled, but it stops as you hear the footsteps falter as they turn into the hallway. Keeping you back to them, you listen as the wooden floor creaks as whoever was approaching makes their way back. You peek to catch sight of who it might be, but all you make out is the shadow of mustard corduroys turning the corner.

As if on cue, Nia and Nate finally appear from the kitchen, thankfully neither appearing to be sour after the talk in the kitchen. 

“Finally.” You say, still feeling giggly from your finding. “Nate, you have to check this-”

“Okay! Let’s start, then. Do we have everyone in the living room?” Evan’s voice interrupts you as he calls out. Nia guides you along with her to the living room. And, as soon as the three of you enter, Evan nods at you, before continuing, “Now that all the bunnies are trapped, we shall begin!” He laughs, clapping his hands together before motioning vaguely to everyone. “Before I explain what I have planned, I want to pair you all. So, I’ll call out the numbers that each of you picked when you arrived, so everyone can find their pair.”

You frown, confuse yet curious about what Evan’s up to as he calls out the numbers. Now that you stop to glance around the room, you note how there are more people than you’d expected. It’s still not nearly as many as previous parties of his, but it still feels like the room is nicely filled, maybe just a dozen people above twenty. And amongst them, there’s quite a few you recognize as they pair up together — like Georgia, the first one to be called, whom you spent a good half of the New Year’s party with, or Taylor, who gets paired with Nia (you remember him particularly from a film festival that Nia had been part of — he produced and directed a short film comparing the second wave of feminism to the wildlife in the Amazon Rainforest, and Nia couldn’t stop complaining about how bad it was for the entire week after). 

It’s when Evan jokes with someone on the other side of the room, however, that you see him.

He’s tucked in a corner, right next to the bookshelves, arms crossed under his chest in a way that makes his tattoos pop out of his biceps, something you notice even standing on the opposite end of the room. His smile is subtle as he watches the scene in front of him, but it’s still enough for a dimple to poke at one side of his face -- it’s barely there, but you’ve seen it up close enough times that you notice those details. His hand holds a drink, but you pay no mind to it because what calls your attention is the mustard corduroy hugging his hips, the same one you watched run from you not only five minutes ago.

He laughs, and you avert your eyes, mouth still hung open. You wonder if anyone will notice if you leave.

But, as though he could read your mind, Evan calls the number written on that sits crumbled inside the pocket of your jacket. “Where are my number eights?”

You step forward and, like a magnet, your eyes glue on Harry as he raises his hand. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, you have to fight against an urge to shut your eyes tightly as the regret of having left your room at all tonight becomes almost overwhelming. All you expected for the night was to forget about book reports and endless essays piled up on your computer, to relax, maybe drink a bit more than you should while watching Evan’s friends dancing with a taxidermy beaver or something of sorts (that was on his friendsmas party two years ago). Instead, here you are on what feels like the first day of class dynamic your teacher has imposed to make everyone interact with each other. And, suddenly, the long pages of (insert boring book) don’t seem that bad right now.

And to make matters worse (because the universe just likes to add a little more spice to your tragedies) of all people standing in this living room you just had to be paired with the one with whom you had a fling-like relationship six months ago.

It’s awkward before he even approaches you, the tension making you fidget in your spot anxiously, barely being able to shoot a tight smile his way. 

The last time you saw Harry was through the rearview mirror of a car, standing on the sidewalk like an abandoned puppy with his tail between his legs. Though you admit you let your dramatics take away when you turned away from him to leave, the feeling behind it was genuine. You were upset. He had led you on, after all, made you think he wanted to have something more just to ignore you for months and, later, appear with a redhead under his arms and call her his girlfriend. So, yes, it wasn’t the best note to leave on.

But despite how you left the last encounter, the spark of nervousness that shoots through your stomachs right now doesn’t come exactly because of his presence, but more so for the awkward nature of this encounter. At the time it happened, you avoided any activity that had the slight possibility of seeing him again like the plague. You were hurt, and you were mad — though the second part was more directed at yourself than at him. But that was six months ago. After all, as much as you felt enchanted by him and as much as those two weeks you spent together were nice, that’s all that it was: two weeks. Yes, you were sad and, yes, maybe you shed a tear or two while watching Love, Rosie with Nia afterward, but that passed as quickly as it came.

That is, until now.

“Your hair is shorter” This Is all you blurt out when he stands in front of you again.

“It is, yeah.” Harry runs his hand through his hair. The strands that last time you saw him, curled around his jawline, now peek just under his earlobe. “Did it myself, actually.”

“Really?” You take a big gulp from your drink, gaze going anywhere but meeting his own. “Found yourself another talent.”

“Another?” You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“I mean, besides acting.” You grin, holding the cup to your lips and sparing him a glance. “Suppose after your debut you’ve gotten yourself busy with casting calls”

“Of course” Harry laughs. Now that you’re closer you have a better look at his dimples as they pop out, as well as the constellation of freckles hugging his nose, and the mole right under his lips. You avert your eyes again. “I’m set to be the next Bond, in fact”

“Oh, wow.” You raise your brows, grinning at the brim of your cup. “I can see it.”

He turns to you, “Can you?” You peek at him. "Why is that?”

This is exactly what you were afraid of all those months ago after last seeing him. The entire reason you ran from any possibility of seeing him again afterward. You can still remember clearly how much of a flirt he is, even when he doesn’t mean to be. It’s not a secret that Harry’s a charming man. His words are like honey, and when he uses them just right, you know is enough to have you melting. And it doesn’t help how well you seem to click together. Even now, you still feel it by your impulse to flirt back, to look him in the eye, and get just close enough to feel the scent of his cologne. Do all that just to turn away in the last second. Tease him the same way he did you. But you don’t do any of that, of course, because you’re as petty as you are bitter. So, instead, you click your tongue. “Don’t get too comfortable, Harry, bet your girlfriend wouldn’t be happy about that.”

He chuckles. “What girlfriend?”

This time you turn fully at him, brows shooting up not in defiance, but surprise. “Yikes.” You say before you’re able to hold back.

“Yikes.” Harry still holds a smile when he repeats it, head falling as he lets out a — nervous? — laugh.

A question pops into your head. One that lingered in your mind for a good while now, but comes back a bit louder now that you have the information that his relationship was short-lasted after all. It’s a short one, but one that requires a long answer, you suppose. What happened? You think. But you don’t dare to voice it, you don’t want to have this conversation with him. Whatever the explanation is, it’s not going to change anything. So you just avert your gaze back to Evan, who now calls for everyone’s attention again.

“I know you’re all dying to know what this is all about. So, I’m going to explain it all.” And with that introduction, Evan dives into a monologue you only pay half mind to. It’s hard for you to focus on the words rapidly leaving his mouth as you can feel Harry glancing at you every so often from the corner of your eye. You listen in to Evan describing himself as a feisty kid and mention his love for drama, and then you feel the ghost of Harry’s arm bumping against yours as he sways on his feet. You try to pay attention to the story being told of the events leading up to this birthday party, and then you have to hold yourself back from meeting Harry’s eyes once you feel them at the side of your face once again. He makes a comment under his breath that you don’t quite catch, and you’re about to question him before Evan’s voice comes in an even higher pitch. “I wanted tonight to be exactly that: chaotic. I didn’t want anything to quite make sense, and I didn’t want to think much, if I’m honest, last year of film school is taking a big chunk of my functioning neurons and m’dad’s whiskey collection is taking the rest of them.”

There’s a collective laugh that takes place and, once again, Harry’s eyes peeking at you. “Everyone can relax, it’s not one of those murder mystery parties, as I’ve heard some people guess — for fuck’s sake as if I have the time and patience to plan something like that.” He says with a sip directly from a wine bottle you just now realize he’s been holding. “It’s a scavenger hunt, you have a partner and an envelope with clues. Each pair will find something related to moi and after it’s all done, we’ll eat burgers and talk about me for the rest of the night.” 

“Sounds easy enough.” Harry mumbles.

Evan claps his free hand on his wrist, hushing everyone. “So off you go, c’mon! I’ll be hungry in an hour.”

“This is gonna be…” You start. “Interesting.”

“Interesting is a great word to describe it.”

“Well, let’s try to do this as quickly as possible, then.” 

 The side of his lips quirks up. “On a rush?”

“This is not exactly a comfortable position to be. I think you get it.” You say, fidgeting on your feet. You wait for a second for him to say something so you can start the activity, but he doesn’t and you realize there’s a piece missing. “Do you have an envelope?”

Harry nods, reaching for his pocket where the envelope sits folded in half. He swiftly opens it, taking out a card.

 “Well?” You prompt, “Read us the first clue, Bond.”

There’s a smile that Harry fights against at the nickname and you’re not sure due to the dim light, but you think there’s a hint of a rosy tone on the apple of his cheeks. “An activity that grows lives and ruins manicures.” He reads out loud, pausing for a moment before laughing to himself. “I know this one.”

“Grows lives?” You frown. “As in, a pregnancy?”

Harry shakes his head, leading the way towards the corridor. “As in, gardening.”

“That’s a very weird way to put it.” You say, following him. “Does he garden?”

He walks into the kitchen, greeting two people you don’t recognize who are searching for something — their clue, you assume — inside the cabinets. “No, but his sister does. There’s a greenhouse in the back.”

You simply hum in response, muttering a quick thank you as he opens the door for you that leads to the back garden. The greenhouse is not unfamiliar to you from the outside, there have been a good amount of summer gatherings in his back garden for you to know of its existence. But you’ve thought nothing more about it. If you’re honest, you never really paid much attention to it. If anything, you assumed he used it as storage at most, never taking Evan as someone who enjoyed gardening. Though now you know you were right, you've also learned that his sister lives with him and you wonder why he’s never mentioned it before.

The curiosity inside of you wants to question Harry about it, to ask him what else he knows you don’t. When you think about it, there’s a lot you want to ask him about. Not just regarding Evan, but also regarding him. You wonder what he’s been up in the past six months if he ended up adopting the kitten he’d told you about back when you were still filming or if he read any of the book recommendations you wrote on his notes app one particular night the two of you chatted for longer than the moon could hold itself up in the sky. The part of you that begs for you to say something on the short walk is so strong you have to physically bite your tongue to be able to hold back.

You don’t have to hold for long, however, as Harry takes it upon himself to say, “So,” He starts, clearing his throat, “How- uh- how are you doing?”

Somehow, his words click something inside of your mind. They remind you of why you shouldn’t let that curious part of you win. The sole purpose of it not falling for his charm. You shake your head, “We’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?” He frowns, his steps faltering for a second.

“Small talk.” You answer, focused on your goal. “We’ll just solve this thing as quickly as possible so I can go back home and finish my Euphoria marathon.”

“Right.” Harry nods once, and you can’t help but notice the way his lips quirk down, the frown not leaving his face. You can’t lie and say it doesn’t make your stomach drop the slightest bit to see you’ve upset him, but you have to remind yourself how much he’s upset you, too. 

It’s protecting yourself, you think. After tonight, you don’t have to see him ever again.

Inside the greenhouse, you’re greeted with a mix of scents you’re not prepared for before stepping in. The space is compact, with a single corridor narrowed with garden beds on each side. Dozens of branches and leaves tickle you as you walk in, most of them belonging to different flowers that, despite the chilly weather that still lingers outside, are already blooming. It’s a blend of colors, bright reds, and ocean blues, soft purple petals kissing pink and yellow ones. 

“We should look for gloves.” Harry’s voice startles you, chuckling as you jump a bit.

“Huh?” 

“Gloves.” He says. “I think whatever we’re looking for has to do with the gloves, ‘cause he mentioned manicure.”

“That makes sense.” You look around. Many gardening tools are piling under the tables that hold the garden beds; watering cans and empty pots. You look between bags of fertilizer and drawers filled with shovels. There’s so much stuff to look through that, at one point, you sit back on your calves, glancing around, lost.

You hear Harry leafing through as you’re doing, feeling his legs brushing against your back as he passes by and you stop, watching him from your spot on the floor. He’s got a concentrated look on his face, bottom lip worried between his teeth as he scans through the walls before he opens another drawer. That’s when his gaze falls, catching yours. You quickly turn away, pretending to go through another pile of empty pots and blocking the sound of a chuckle coming from his spot.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the clicking of ceramics and the opening and closing of wooden drawers. That is until you hear from Harry, “A-ha!”

You look up again, seeing him move to the back where few pairs of gloves hang on the wall — so obvious yet still hidden between raincoats and summer hats. “Right under our noses.” You say, getting up.

Harry searches inside the gloves, tongue trapped between his teeth. “Bingo!” He says, pulling out two tiny bottles from inside one pair.

“What is it?”

“Liquor.” He grins, peeking at you from under his lashes before ripping a piece of paper attached to it. “It says ‘one for each, now get to clue number two.’” He holds up one bottle, offering it to you, to which you take it. “It’s chocolate flavored.”

“Of course it would be a drinking game.” You open it, feeling the artificial chocolate scent braid with the alcohol. “Christ.”

“Don’t smell it, or it’ll be worse,” Harry says, downing his with one quick tilt of his head. “‘S not that bad, actually.”

You mimic his action, letting the drink swiftly burn its way down your throat. Unlike Harry, you can’t help but scrunch your nose at the taste. “You’re a fucking liar.”

Harry only giggles in response, taking the empty bottle from you and placing it back inside the gloves, along with his own. 

And then again, silence. You turn to the flowers to find some comfort.

A family of tulips glances back at you, their petals in a full red, it’s the kind of beauty you’re scared to ruin if you touch, so you just rest your hand on the wood. “They’re beautiful.” You only notice you say it out loud when Harry hums back in agreement.

“They are.” He says quietly but somehow feels loud by how close he is. “Tulips are my favorites.”

You stop, brows raising incredulously at him. “No, they’re not.”

“What?”

Cursing the universe for playing with you like this, you can’t help but laugh at the situation. “It’s just- they’re my favorites, too.” You look at him. “My nan used to plant them when I was little.”

“That’s sweet.” He says, smiling and you nod. “The red ones represent true love.” He points. “And the purple ones represent royalty.”

You blink at him. “Do you just look up tulip facts in your free time?”

Harry laughs. “Yeah, basically.” He looks down at you, and you can’t help but notice how the greenery around brings out the shade of his eyes. “I worked at a flower shop for a tick.”

“Really?”

He nods. “For eight months. My favorite part was writing on the store board every morning.” His face lights up as he recalls his experience. “I used to write silly stuff like, ‘one day I’d like to meet tulips.’ The old ladies loved it.”

You shake your head, breathing out a laugh. “You’re dangerous.”

“Dangerous? Why’s that?”

Because you’re sweet, you want to answer, because when I think I won’t get charmed by you again, you hit me with tulip puns. Your lip finds its spot between your teeth, you’d be damned to give him the satisfaction of hearing you tell him that, so, instead, you shrug. “Because.” You can tell he wants to dig more by the way his lip twitch up, teasing a smile, but you just nod towards the door before turning away from him and heading out. 

There’s a distinct change of temperature when you step outside, and it’s only when you do that you notice the greenhouse was heated. Thankfully, the night is not too windy as it would get a week or two ago when winter was still insisting on making itself present, but it’s still chilly so that it makes you hug your jacket closer to your body. Harry also notices the difference, as you hear him wince as he steps out from behind you — unlike you, he’s not wearing anything to protect his arms from the cold, which only makes it harder for you to not ogle the tattoos hugging his skin.

“So, what’s next?” You prompt.

Harry reaches for the card again, taking it from its spot on his pocket before reading the second clue. “‘Not feeling too creative to write this one, it’s on the third tree on oak.’”

“I mean, at least we don’t have to think too much on this one.” You say, “Oak Street is the one to the left, right?”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Can’t believe he’s making us go out on the streets.”

You start to make your way back towards the house. “Too tired for a stroll?”

“‘S cold,” Harry says, scrunching his nose. “Here, there’s a side gate.”

He guides you through a gravel path to where the black gate stands, hidden between bushes and branches. Strings of fern hug the bricked fence and the surrounding grass is high enough that it tickles your calves through your tights, making you believe this path has probably been left unused for at least a couple of months now. This information brings out an extra worry for you, as you take a better look at it, noticing how the gate is closed shut to the fence.“Is it open?” You wonder out loud.

“Shit, I don’t think it is.” Harry huffs under his breath. “But, I mean, we could easily jump it.”

You stop, turning to glance at him as the suggestion leaves his lips. He stands there, hands on his hips, examining the gate, tongue poking out as he frowns. After a second, he meets your eyes. “What? It’s not that tall.”

“I suppose.” You say, looking back at the fence that ends just below your shoulder length. It would be easy enough for you to climb it with a boost, however, “I’m wearing a dress.”

“Oh,” Harry scratches the back of his neck. “Let’s just go inside-” He turns back.

“Wait,” You stop him, not sure if it’s the slight amount of alcohol in your system already making you more adventurous, you train your gaze at the gate, analyzing it again, before looking back at him. Squinting your eyes, “You have to close your eyes.”

He laughs, “Are you sure?”

“It’s not that high.” You shrug. “But I need your help.”

“Of course.” He moves next to the brick wall, kneeling before it and nodding towards you. “C’mon, step up.”

Hesitantly, you glance at his thigh stretching his trousers, a sudden wave of insecurity hitting you. “Are you sure you can lift me?”

Harry simply puts his hand out in a silent request for you to hold. “Of course.”

“No peeking.”

He shuts his eyes tightly, chin meeting his chest as he looks down. And then you take his hand, feeling his fingers lock in a firm hold as he helps you use him for support. You hesitate again before using his thigh as a step, “Wait, I’m gonna ruin your trousers.” You worry, but Harry only shakes his head, still keeping it facing the ground, the strands of his hair falling above his eyes in a makeshift blindfold. When he doesn't feel you stepping in still, he encourages you with a squeeze in your hand. 

You attempt to do as quickly as possible with your dress clinging to your legs, tightening your hold to Harry’s hand to step on his thigh. Once you let it go, you can still feel it lingering behind your back as you use your arms to boost yourself up the wall, sitting on it for a moment before jumping to the other side with a huff.

“Can I open them?” You hear Harry’s voice calls from the other side, and you smile, nodding even though he can’t see it.

“Yes!”

And then his face appears as he stands up in a jump, grinning at you. “See? Easy Peasy.”

“I feel like a teen sneaking out.” You say, and you instantly give another meaning to your words as Harry boosts himself up. This time, you certainly don’t hold yourself back from staring at the way his muscles flex at the movement, the tattoos on his arms stretching, and his shirt rolling up. He makes it look so easy, so effortless, barely taking five seconds until he’s jumping in front of you.

“That was fun.” He puffs, patting his trousers lightly.

“So, how are we finding the tree?” You ask, taking a quick glance to where his hands brush on the fabric of his trousers. “Should we read the clue again?”

“I know which one he’s talking about,” Harry says, nodding to the left before beginning his stride in that direction. You follow him, trusting his words as the two of you turn the corner where Evan’s house is located. 

The street in question is much calmer than the one you were just in, with no cars coming or going from the residences — that stand much closer to one another, you notice, giving the whole street more of a narrow feeling to it --, which is not exactly odd, but certainly is a contrast with the main street that Evan’s home faces, that one being more lively with people either coming home or leaving it to enjoy their Friday night. The sudden lack of background noise makes the walk to your destination a tad awkward, as none of you make an effort to strike a conversation. Instead, you resort to silently observing the surrounding area as you walk alongside Harry, noticing how the trees here bend over the sidewalk, their naked branches slowly but surely growing back the leaves they lost months ago — it makes you wonder how beautiful this must look during the peak of springtime, their full branches blending together, making a ceiling of flowers.

“Here.” Harry stops abruptly, making you almost bump into his shoulder, as you were too busy with the scenery you’ve made in your own head. “‘S this one.”

“I thought it said the third one.” You frown, looking back and noticing the way you’ve passed way more than just three.

“This one is the third.” He says, motioning to a small birdhouse stuck to its trunk with a number ‘3’ painted to the front in blue. “It’s a bit of an inside joke,” Harry chuckles to himself. “Now I get why the bastard wanted me to have this card.”

You look closer at the tree, trying to see if there’s something attached to it besides the birdhouse, but there’s nothing. Before you can question it, Harry opens the front of the tiny house, retrieving two tiny bottles from inside of it, similar to the ones you found in the greenhouse.  “Oh, no.” You say, laughing. “Did he just put liquor inside a stranger’s birdhouse?”

Harry shakes his head, “This is not a stranger’s birdhouse.”

“Huh?” You frown, glancing back to the house where you stand in front of, its front completely dark, showing that no one must be at home. You point to it over your shoulder. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Yeah,” He starts, offering you one bottle. “I do.”

Your brows shoot up in surprise, glancing back and forth from the house to the man standing in front of you, an amusing grin growing on his face. “You live here?” You ask, “This is your birdhouse?”

“It is, yeah. In fact, I was the one who built it.” He gives the birdhouse a small pat.

You can’t help but let your mouth hang open for a second. “That’s-” You pause, not sure which word to use. Impressive? Amazing? Hot? “That’s nice.”

Harry smiles, and the two of you stand there for a moment, admiring his work in silence. You suck your bottom lip in, keeping yourself from inquiring further. 

Being presented with how little you know about Harry only peaks at your curiosity at what had happened last year in your brief experience with him. When you were with him it felt as if you’d known him for months rather than weeks, but looking back at it now, you wonder if your infatuation fooled you into thinking the two of you were close. Maybe that’s why you were so upset at the premiere after all because all that did was prove to you how much you didn’t know him at all. No matter how many sleepless nights you spent together sharing bits of your lives, it wasn’t enough for you to get to know him.

It’s only when a car turns into the street that you break away from your thoughts, looking up at him and clearing your throat. “We should take this back to Evan’s.” You say. “I’m not sure how it would look from an outsider’s point of view to see us downing these tiny bottles in the middle of the street.”

“You’re right,” Harry says. “Should we read the last clue while we’re at it?”

“Sure, yeah.”

He reaches for the card inside his pocket, presenting it to you. “You do the honors this time.”

You take the card, brushing your thumb over the words before stopping for a second to read them out loud, “You’ll find your prize behind the words of buried legends.” You snort. “That’s so corny.”

“Words of buried legends,” Harry repeats, letting out a hum. “Bet he was feeling quite poetic when he wrote this one.”

“Maybe because it has to do with poems.” You peek at him, a slight raise to your eyebrow. “‘Words of buried legends’? like dead poets and stuff?” Upon reading it again to make sure, you mumble, “He really made this card especially for you, huh?”

“Makes sense.” Harry agrees before nudging you playfully with his arm. “Look at you with your literary mind!”

“Could’ve used some better wording but I’ll let it pass.” You giggle, shrugging as you hand him back the card. As you do so, you notice there’s something written on the other side. “What’s in the back?”

Harry’s brows meet. “Huh?”

“In the back of the card, something’s written on it.” You nod towards his hand as he’s about to pocket the card again. 

Harry turns it around, reading it with a chuckle. “Ice breakers.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Your mouth drops open in amusement. “Well? Go on, then. Break the ice.”

Harry makes a show of clearing his throat before reading the question as an announcement, “What celebrity do you think you could pull on your best day?”

“Is this the actual question?” You squint your eyes at him and he turns the card to allow you to read it as well. Surely, the same question reads right on top of it and, as you take a glance at the ones below it, they’re not that much better. You shake your head, “God, I have no idea.”

“I know mine.”

“You didn’t give a single thought on that one.” You say. “This should be good.”

“Jennifer Aniston.”

“Jennifer Aniston?” You stop on your tracks, raising your brows at him. “You know she was married to Brad Pitt, right?”

“Ouch.” Harry makes the theatrics of putting a hand on his heart, head falling dramatically to the side. “Right where it hurts.”

“I’m not saying you’re bad-looking, but he’s Brad Pitt.” You emphasize with a laugh, pushing him playfully as you keep walking. “Like he is the male beauty standard. Personified.”

The front of Evan’s feels more vivid than it was when you first walked in hours ago, the lights inside seeming lighter and the curtains having been pulled back, showing people wandering around on the inside. You walk past another pair crouched in front of the bushes that line next to the front gate that creaks as you open it.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Sure, let’s hear yours, then, sweetheart.”

“Ew, don’t ever call me that again.” Your nose scrunches and your face grows hot, but you attempt to shake it off, stopping to think of the question. “Huh, on my best day? I think… I don’t know, maybe Drake?”

“Oh, no!” Harry’s hands cover his face as he shakes his head into them. “I feel like that’s the most basic answer anyone could ever give to this question.”

You gasp. “Did you just call me basic?”

Harry holds the front door open for you and, before he’s able to give you an answer, you bump right into Nia. She instantly blurts out your name, as if she’s been expecting you to appear. “I’ve been looking for you!” She says, sparing Harry a glance over your shoulder before pulling you slightly to the side. “Do you think we could talk for a second?”

“Sure.” You hold out the word, looking at Harry before focusing on your friend again. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, nothing happened. Just—” Nia starts, locking your arms as she guides you back outside, pulling you to a corner a few steps away from the front door. “How are you? How's it going?”

“I’m fine. Why?” Your brows knit together at her interference and you wonder if it has anything to do with her conversation with Nate.

“I’m talking about-” She looks over her shoulder, clearly checking if anyone is listening in. Even after making sure that there’s no one there, she still lowers her voice. “When I saw he was your pair, I wanted to rescue you right away, but fucking Taylor pulled me with him and I didn’t get the chance.”

Oh. “Oh.”

“Is it too awkward?” She keeps her inquiry, holding your hand close to her chest. “We could ask them to switch so we can do the rest together, I’m sure Evan’s too plastered to notice.”

“Nia, I-” You smile as you come to realize that she pulled you aside just to check if you’re uncomfortable, having witnessed first-hand your whines and cries over Harry last year. “It’s okay, really. It’s not that bad, surprisingly.”

“Really?” Nia blinks, taken aback. “I- What happened?”

“Nothing.” You reassure her with a squeeze on her hand. “We’re just chatting, it’s not that awkward.”

“Okay.” She nods and nods, before falling serious again. “But if anything happens you just have to scream for me and I’ll be right there, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, pulling her for a brief hug. “Thanks, Ni.”

The two of you return inside just as Taylor brings up his brother’s hair sculpture collection that’s being exhibited at a local gallery — a subject you already have been the victim of hearing for about an hour during New Year’s and, by Harry’s face, he seems as helpless as you did back then. Nia doesn’t waste a second before pulling her pair away, “Let’s go, pal, those clues won’t solve themselves,” she shoots you a look over her shoulder, pushing Taylor towards the living room and you chuckle.

“He really is one of a kind, that man,” Harry says with a sigh before meeting your gaze. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, just lady talk.” You brush aside. “Let’s find those poets, shall we?”

“We shall.” Harry smiles, looking around for a second before guiding you down the hallway, turning just before entering the kitchen where a staircase. This is a way that — like the greenhouse — you’ve never been to. Still, Harry navigates so casually as if it were his own home and, to some degree, you suppose it is. You follow him up the first flight of steps, stopping just before turning into the next one where a door you never really noticed before stands. Harry rests his hand on the handle, turning to you before saying, “There’s an office hidden right here.”

You watch as he opens it, motioning for you to walk in first. And, indeed, the inside of it is an office, just a bit smaller than the living room on the opposite side of the house. Two bookcases that go from the floor to the ceiling mostly covered the wall, only leaving a single space in the middle for a dark wooden cabinet. In front of it, an L-shaped desk takes up the middle of the room, most of it is filled with files and paper stacks, as well as two computers lying asleep. For a moment, you just stand by the doorway, admiring this room you’ve never known of its existence, your eyes quickly sweeping through the bookshelves completely packed with dark cover books of all sorts. “Do you think this is where it could be?”

“Probably, yeah.” Harry nods, turning on the lights. “I don’t know where else he could have any poetry hidden.”

You move towards one bookshelf, the one closest to the door, reaching to brush your finger through the spines perfectly lined. “But look at the size of these, we’ll take forever to find anything in here.”

“Those big ones are mostly law books, I think,” Harry says, opening cabinets at the other side of the room, right next to where a white couch stands. He turns to look at you, “His sister’s a lawyer, this is her office.” Harry says, “But Evan’s got a corner right here where he keeps some of his stuff— like books of sorts. It’s the only place I could think of.”

You hum, not knowing exactly what to respond to this information.

“You can go through the ones on that side, it could be there as well.” Harry nods towards a cabinet right next to the door where you came from, and you nod.

The first two cabinets are of no luck, both being mostly filled with boxes full of children’s books and old toys — some of them mixed with more stacks of paper, but those, instead of having long texts, have drawings of all kinds from what you could gather in a glance, from child-like scribbles to actual sketches. You can hear Harry going through drawers on the other side of the room and, upon closing another empty cabinet, you peek at him, watching his broad back flexing under his shirt as he moves around. Averting your eyes as swiftly as you looked, it’s still enough to bring warmth to your cheeks.

Finally, you open the cabinet at the very bottom of the shelf. On the top, there are piles of DVDs, most being different variations of Barbie movies, but, right at the bottom, you find books. You don’t stop to check their genre at first, simply moving them away until you stumble upon a small box, the top of it marked with the word ‘prize’. “Found it!” You call back, taking the box away from the pile before setting the books back in place again. “Under Rupi Kaur? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure she’s very alive.”

“Don’t tell Evan that,” Harry says as he crouches next to you, taking the box from your hands. Inside, there are, as expected, two tiny bottles like the ones you found before but, what calls both your attention, is a small bag of sweets lying in the middle. Harry takes it, “Oh, those are nice.”

He hands it to you and you open it, quickly shoving a jelly candy into your mouth before nodding. “Yeah.”

“So…” Harry starts, peeking over his shoulder, “Do you want to go back there?”

You glance at him, his eyes hovering above yours, lips twitching up just barely. “Uh… Maybe not right now.” You answer, “Unless you feel like sharing our Jellies with other people.”

Harry only laughs, shaking his head as he sits back and you do so too, right next to him. He reaches for his pocket, presenting another tiny bottle, the one you found inside his birdhouse, “We still got these.” 

“Right!” You fetch your own out of the pocket of your jacket.

Harry opens his, holding it up towards you. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” You say, mimicking him.

Both of you down your drinks, the liquid tasting bitter, like medicine on your tongue, the only reminder of alcohol being the burn as it slides down your throat. You rest your head back on the cabinet behind you as the two of you fall into silence once more. A part of your mind is already beginning to swim around the space inside your head, and you decide to not take the last drink just yet, laying it next to your leg. Though you’ve only had the equivalent of two shots, you realize the long break you’ve had from drinking for the past couple of months -- which wasn’t exactly an intentional choice, but more like the result of your lack of free time -- is showing itself to have been enough to make you more of a lightweight. 

And even though the night so far has been strikingly surprising in terms of how comfortable you felt being around Harry again, it doesn’t mean the questions you’ve been carrying since last year have gotten any quieter. They’ve only gotten louder. More persistent, even. The curiosity you feel to know what happened is almost suffocating now. And you’d be damned if you let a drunken mind stop you from having this conversation.

You glance at him from the corner of your eyes, only watching the back of his head bobbing along with the music -- still the piano -- that comes faintly from behind the closed door. Your lips part, feeling the question form right at the tip of your tongue, but not knowing how to voice the words. Will it be awkward? You think so, but what if it ruins the night? Tonight, that’s been so oddly refreshing. A night that only served to remind you how you became so infatuated with him in the first place.

But you know you won’t be able to let go of this ich inside your head unless you bring it up. And you want to, you do, but as you take too long to think of the right way to do so, Harry decides to break the silence, murmuring next to you, “That’s a good one.”

Your brows knit together, trying to make out any trace of familiarity within the song that’s playing, but you don't find any, which only leaves you even more confused.  “Do you like classical?”

“Love,” Harry says simply, his eyes closed as he moves his head with the piano keys. “Especially this one. One of the greatest works from one of the greatest contemporary composers: Billie Eilish.”

Your lips fall open, “Shut up. Is she playing this?”

Harry laughs, a full one, that brings a grin to poke at your lips. “I mean, as far as I’m aware, no. It’s a version of her song — listen in.” He points to his ear, nodding with the melody as he sings along, “So you’re a tough guy, like it really rough guy.”

You shake your head incredulously, “Of course he’s playing classical versions of pop songs!” 

“Did you really think Evan had a taste for Chopin or Debussy?” Harry asks both dimples poking on his cheeks.

“I think at this point I’d believe anything you tell me about him.”

Both of you laugh, the air surrounding you light and warm, before falling quiet again. This time, however, you simply stare at each other for a beat. You watch his eyes, with their almost hypnotizing jade shade, glancing between your own. He rolls his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it. This is the closest you’ve been to him all night, and the details on his face only feel like a reminder of your doubts. Like the nostalgia you feel with a bittersweet memory.

“Should we-“ You stop, the words falling from your lips before you can think about them. “Should we talk about the elephant in the room?”

You half expect Harry to frown, to play dumb, and question you the meaning behind your words. For a second, you even expect him to shake his head, to get up and leave the room. And, for some reason, you kinda want him to do so. To finally break the mask of the nice, sweet guy he’s been putting on all night and allow himself to play the role of cold prick you put him on for the past months. 

But he doesn’t do it. He only gives you a short smile. “I was thinking about how to bring it up.” Harry’s gaze falls to his lap for a beat as he scratches his nose. “We should, yeah.”

You nod, more to yourself than to him. This is it. The moment to ask what you’ve been waiting for for six months now. You decide not to think much anymore, allowing the question to roll freely, “I don’t really know how to word this better but- pardon my French- what the fuck happened?”

Harry chuckles, but not an amused one. It’s more of a dry, nervous laugh. “How cliche is it if I tell you I was really fucking stupid?”

“Pretty cliche.” You say, “But also pretty true, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry for that.” He looks up, eyes meeting yours again, his own softening upon seeing you. “I really am.”

“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile a little, “But I think I deserve an explanation.”

“You do.” He speaks quietly before clearing his throat. For a second, he doesn’t say anything else, just takes a sharp breath, focusing on his fingers that play with the hem of his trousers. “I- Uhm- I know this might come as a surprise, but I’m not very good at letting people down.”

“A bit, I guess.” You try to humor, but your tone doesn’t show it. You sound quiet, hurt.

He peeks up at you, and continues, “Jess- the girl you met at the premiere- she’s lovely and all, but- how do I say this- we were never really supposed to be together.” Harry sighs, “I didn’t like her like that.”

You frown, “Then, why did you?”

“A couple of months before we met- before Evan even mentioned the film project to me, one of my mates kept insisting that I should meet his sister.” He pauses, “That was Jess.”

“I figured.”

Harry nods, “As I said, she’s a lovely girl, really nice, but we just- didn’t click like that, you know?” You hum in agreement, ignoring a small twist in your stomach when he repeats the endearment term. “But I guess she really wanted to try it, and, for months, I just kept pushing and pushing, cause I thought maybe with time I could bring myself to feel the same way.” And then again, another humorless laugh, “But- spoiler alert- I couldn’t and I should’ve just told her that.”

Your mouth hangs open for a beat before you decide against saying anything. It’s clear as you watch him explain that the entire situation for him felt more complicated than you’d ever considered. Not once did you think about the possibility of him being caught in a twist of his own decisions, and not once did you regard his feelings with the whole situation. In your bubble of gloominess, all you could think of was how he played you and used you for a bit before moving on to the next girl that fell for his sweet talk. 

Looking at him now, however, his head low and brows set on a permanent crease, lips frowning down, you can feel the internal conflict pooling out of his pores. You’re not sure if it’s exactly a look of remorse that he gives you, but it sure seems close to it.

Harry huffs in what feels like frustration as he keeps recalling the events, “But all my mates kept taking the piss, pushing me to ask her out and then, in the middle of it, I met you.” He finally smiles a bit, and you have to look down to hide the warmth that spreads on your cheeks, “And we-uh-” He shrugs, “I mean, we clicked, didn’t we?”

“I think so.” You say, just above a whisper.

“I think so, too,” Harry says, holding your gaze with his own. “And when I was with you I let myself forget about that, forget about the pressure to be with someone else, I guess.” His lips fall again, eyes meeting his lap, “But when we came back, there wasn’t much running away from it anymore. The night we got back I met that friend of mine and, I’m not sure if he said anything to Jess, but she asked me out.”

“And you said yes.”

“I said yes.” He repeats, shaking his head, “I shouldn’t have, but I said yes.”

“So you just dated her? Even if you didn’t like her like that?” You say, trying to understand his thought process. Even if his words tug at your heartstrings -- which you try to not think about right now -- you still can’t help but feel a bit for the other girl.

“I thought I could- I don’t know, I thought with time maybe I could-” He stumbles around with his speech, before finally letting out a sigh, “I don’t know what was going through my head, to be honest. I was a prick.”

“At least you can admit to it.”

“I was a prick to both of you.” 

You fall quiet, hoping he takes your silence as an agreement. When he doesn’t offer anything else, you speak up again, “Did it work, though?” He frowns, and you clarify, “Letting time force feelings into you?”

“I found very quickly how hard it is to develop feelings for someone when there’s someone else on your mind.” He says, and you bite back a smile that wants to spread on your lips.

“It’s very easy to say that now.”

“I know.” He agrees, “And I wish I could’ve realized that earlier, before even bringing you into this mess.” Harry reaches for your wrist, which lies on top of your lap, giving it a gentle squeeze. “For that I really am sorry.”

“I know you are.” You reassure, turning your hand to find his, squeezing it back. “And what happened to Jess?”

“She was rightfully upset when I told her.” His thumb brushes against your knuckles, moving the rings on your fingers around just slightly, and it’s almost enough to distract you from his voice. “We broke up a day after the premiere.”

“Ouch.”

“But it’s fine now, she’s got a boyfriend now who actually cares for her the way she deserves,” Harry says.

“That’s nice to hear, at least.”

“It is, yeah.”

You look down at your hands locked in your lap, squeezing his one more time before letting it go with a sigh.  “You really made a big mess, huh?”

He chuckles, a guilty smile poking on his face, “I did.”

You nod, finally reaching for the tiny bottle left forgotten next to you, opening it. This time you only take a sip, but it’s still enough to end half of the liquid inside. You click your tongue, “I’m glad we talked, though.” You look up at Harry again, who’s already watching you, giving a small tap on his thigh. “It’s nice to have closure, you know? To give it a conclusion and wrap with a nice little bow.”

Harry rolls his lip inside his mouth, “Is this a conclusion, then?”

You raise your brows, “Is it not?”

“I guess it could be.” He shrugs one shoulder, leaning closer to you just barely, eyes trained in yours. “But I’m hoping that, after today, maybe we could start over?”

You laugh, scrunching your nose at him as you shake your head. “Not a start over, no.” You poke his side, “You’re not getting away that easy.”

“You’re right.” He says, still not budging as he frowns his lips. “But I wish it didn’t have to be an ending as well.”

“Is that so?”

Harry nods, you can tell his eyes hold a shyness that wasn’t here a minute ago, but at the same time -- as paradoxically as it seems -- there’s a boldness as well, one you’re more familiar with. “Maybe we could chat again. This time with fewer ice breaker cards and more bags of sweets.”

You smile, rubbing your chin as you pretend to ponder about his suggestion. “That does sound very promising.”

“I really do think we clicked.” He drops his playful tone as if wanting to make sure you feel the sincerity behind his words. “Wasn’t just saying it.”

“I know.” You say, “And I think so, too.”

His smirk grows, and he doesn’t offer anything else to say, but you can tell he’s holding something back. With the silence, you suddenly become too aware of the way your arms brush together, and how his knee bumps against yours. You notice how his eyes fall a bit from yours, so quickly you could’ve imagined it, but you choose to not think so. If you lean forward, you know he will too, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. You’re not letting yourself make the first move.

Surely, you’re aware these thoughts are a direct result of the alcohol sweeping through your mind, testing how much of your pride you’re willing to ignore. There’s no questioning of the wall that you built all those months ago after walking out of this very house with this very man on your tail blurring out apologies. It still stands, tall and strong, and you're not letting sweet words mixed with a drink or two pull it down. Not that easily. But at this moment, looking at his stupidly beautiful face with his stupidly beautiful eyes so close to you, you feel like maybe you could peek through a window, or open up a door — just a creek, just to have a sample of what it would feel like if you were to pull it down.

“Do you want to go back?” Harry asks again, this time more quietly, this time his question has a different implication than it did before.

You're quick to shake your head, voice quiet, “Not yet.”

The corner of his lips quirk up and you raise your brows, silently daring him to ask what he’s been holding. You see his hand moving from the corner of your eyes, but you don’t break your gaze from his, not even when you feel his fingertips moving so gently against your cheekbone, brushing your hair away from your face. Harry leans closer, again just barely, and again, you stay still, only smiling softly in encouragement. Now, you’re stuck in your own silent conversation; both seeking the same thing but not making the move to achieve it -- either for pride or apprehension. 

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” Harry whispers finally, eyes moving down again, this time slowly, making sure that his intentions are clear.

“Do it, then.” You tease.

Harry breathes out a laugh, his hand caressing its way down to your jaw. He rubs his thumb against your cheek, a feathery touch, taking another second to look at you before pulling you in. Your eyes fall closed, as you focus on your senses, and allow yourself to peek from that window, or creek that door open just a bit, to have just this moment to remember when you first got lost in his touch. 

First, it’s the warmth of his breath tickling your cupid bow, making your hold your own breath in anticipation. Then, the tip of his nose, gentle against your own, and you can’t help but lean in a bit more when you feel the ghost of his lips on yours. But he pulls back, just so slightly, hoping to have you reach for him again. Except you don’t, knowing what he’s trying to do.

“Uh-uh,” you shake your head, pulling back just a bit to look him in the eye. “You don’t get to tease me.”

Harry huffs out a laugh, “That’s fair.”

This time, there’s no teasing. Still, he goes in just as slowly as he did the first time around, curving his lips around your bottom one so softly it almost makes you lean in again. His kiss is cloud-like in a way that makes you a bit dizzy and when he presses his lips harder, you have to refrain from letting out a dreamy sigh -- still too stubborn to give him the satisfaction. It’s when you feel the tip of his tongue poking out to lick at your bottom lip in a silent request, that you pull away completely.

It’s your turn to smirk now, licking your lips before announcing, “I think we should go back now.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine

[yellowsuitcase]

Brother dearest // Draco Malfoy

Request:  Can you write a draco x potter!reader where harry is your twin and he finds out the relationship between draco and reader and over protective harry in general? 🤍

A/N: This is pretty short but I think it’s quite funny and charming. I hope you enjoy it! Should I start writing for Harry???

Summary: Harry finds out about his twin sister’s relationship with Malfoy.

Warning(s): Swearing

Word Count: 1.5k

Y/N breathed heavily as she peaked her head out from behind the wall. She watched as Harry and his friends walked down the hallway and disappeared from sight. A sigh of relief left her lips, and she turned back to the boy beside her.

“That was close, Dray. Too close,” she scolded him. Her boyfriend nodded his head, put his hands on her shoulders, and began to rub up and down.  

“It was, but he didn’t see us; we’re okay,” Draco assured her. They had been walking together, hand in hand, down what they thought was an empty hallway. However, when Y/N heard the familiar voice of her twin brother, Harry, she had grabbed Draco and whisked him behind the wall, successfully hiding him. 

She and the Slytherin had been dating for nearly a month and somehow had managed to keep it a secret from Harry. Y/N feared how he’d react if he discovered them. Draco wasn’t exactly the nicest to Harry, and should he find out his own sister was dating his bully...well, it wouldn’t be fun. And that's why Y/N had been going to extreme lengths to prevent Harry from finding out. That conversation wasn’t one she wished to have. She could imagine the look of betrayal that would undoubtedly appear on his face.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Draco asked, pulling his girlfriend from her thoughts. Sighing, Y/N dropped her head forwards, letting it rest on his chest. Her lover chuckled and wrapped his arms around her torso. The couple stood in each other’s arms until the bell rang. Reluctantly, Y/N pulled away and headed off to class. Because not only were they hiding their relationship from Harry, they were hiding it from the entire school.

--------

{A few weeks later}

There was a knock at Y/N’s door. She was sitting in her dorm, studying for her Potions quiz, but dropped her quill and walked to the door. When she opened it, she narrowed her eyes. “What do you want, Harry? I’m studying,” she told him. But her twin ignored her and pushed past her, heading for her trunk beside her bed. 

“Hey! What the fuck?” she yelled as he flipped it open and began rummaging through it. Y/N slammed the door and stomped over to her brother. Angrily, she shoved him away and hastily shut her trunk. “Why are you here? Get out!” she shouted. Harry pointed at her accusingly.

“I know you’ve taken it,” he growled. Y/N crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow. 

“Taken what? I haven’t touched your shit, Harry.” 

“The map, it’s gone,” he confessed, his shoulders heaving. Y/N shrugged and gestured around her room. 

“I don’t have it, but go ahead, look around,” she spat. She couldn’t believe his audacity sometimes. What a prat.

Harry tilted his head. “Fine, I will,” he responded. Then he walked over to her nightstand and yanked the drawer open. Y/N rolled her eyes and flopped onto her bed, letting her eyelids shut, and her body relax. She knew eventually that Harry would give up and leave her alone, so she’d resigned to just waiting it out. 

This went on for a good five minutes; Y/N relaxing while Harry tore her room apart. But then, he spoke up. “What’s this?” he asked, his tone scarily stern. Y/N opened one eye and spotted her brother standing by her desk, a pristine piece of parchment in his hands. She instantly recognized it as a letter she received from Draco. Panic flooded her senses, and she jumped off her mattress. 

“It’s not what it looks like,” she started. Harry glared at her and gripped the letter tighter. 

“Oh, so you’re not dating Malfoy? Then what’s this?” he questioned. She could tell he had already read it. Y/N reached for the parchment, but Harry held it high above her head. 

“Harry, cut it out. I’m not dating him, don’t be ridiculous,” she said nervously, trying to convince him. But he could see right through her. He turned to the letter and read out loud its contents.

“My dearest, Y/N. I was wondering if you’d like to meet up by the lake later this afternoon. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to find a spot where we can sit together away from prying eyes. If not today, perhaps tomorrow? Let me know as soon as you can. I look forward to seeing you. Love, Draco.”

Y/N felt her heart sink as Harry’s rage-filled eyes bored into her skull. The jig was up; there wasn’t anything she could say that would make him believe she and Draco weren’t together. 

“How long have you been with him?” he asked. Y/N stared at her feet, her lips shut tight. She couldn’t bring herself to answer her brother. The sound of a sigh piqued her interest, but she kept her head down, not wanting to see the disappointed look on his face.

“Fine, if you won’t tell me, I’ll ask him myself,” he said while turning towards the door. 

“No!” Y/N shouted. Harry paused and spun to face her again. Y/N gulped down her pride and answered him. “It’s been a month.” Her brother pursed his lips and shook his head in disbelief. But then, to Y/N’s surprise, he brought her into a hug. Hesitantly, she hugged him back, very confused as to what was going on. 

“Is he good to you?” Harry asked suddenly. Y/N backed away from him and gave him a look, letting the silence hang in the air.

“He is. Are you not...angry?” Y/N asked. He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I was going to be, but if he’s truly good to you, and you really like him, then who am I to be angry at you for being happy?” Harry asked. Y/N pulled him back into a hug and squeezed him tightly as relief washed over her.

“Thank Merlin. I was so afraid you’d hate me, that’s why I didn’t tell you,” she explained, but Harry waved her off. 

“You do annoy the hell out of me, but you’re my sister. I could never hate you, not really,” he said with a smile. “However, I do want to have a word with Draco,” he admitted. Y/N’s grin immediately dropped. The idea of Harry and Draco having that conversation struck fear into her heart. But before she could try to talk him out of it, there were four distinct knocks at her door. Without thinking, Harry walked to the door and opened it to find himself face to face with the devil himself.

“Hello, Malfoy,” he said with a condescending smile. “Come in.” The fear on Draco’s face was painfully apparent, and he shot Y/N a very concerned look. She could only give him a nervous smile as Harry beckoned him inside and shut the door behind him. 

“So, you’ve been dating my sister,” he stated. Draco’s head whipped towards Y/N, who nodded gently, telling him it was okay. The Slytherin cleared his throat. “Yeah, I have.”

Harry crossed his arms and stared at Draco intensely. “Look, I don’t like you, Malfoy, and you don’t like me. However, I’ll tolerate you dating my sister because if this,” he gestured to Malfoy, “is what she wants, then so be it. But I swear to god if you ever mistreat her in any way, I will not hesitate to hex the shit out of you,” he threatened. Draco chuckled a bit, trying to lighten the mood. But also, he had no clue what to say.

“I’m not joking. If you hurt Y/N, I’ll hurt you,” Harry spat. Draco awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and nodded his head. The tension was almost tangible. But then Y/N clapped her hands and broke the silence, causing both boys to turn to her.

“This has been...wonderful, but uhm, Harry, if you could exit?” she asked, trying to get her brother to leave. But when he made no move to leave, she took things into her own hands, literally. She put her palms on his back and pushed him towards the door. Harry glared at Draco the entire time but let himself be guided out of the dorm. “Bye, don’t come back!” Y/N called after him as she shut the door. With a sigh, she turned around and rested her back against the door. Draco let out a sigh along with her.

“That went...well?” he stated, but really it was more of a question. Y/N giggled and shook her head. “It was better than expected. At least he’s not angry,” she replied optimistically. Draco walked over to her and took her into his arms, inhaling deeply. Y/N's heart squeezed as her lover held her.  She could feel the tenseness in her muscles fade away. 

“You do know he’ll be watching you like a hawk now, don’t you?” she teased. Draco grumbled to himself but nodded his head.

“Yeah, I suppose so. But I’ll deal with Potter if it means I can finally show you off and let people know you’re mine.” Y/N laughed and pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck. 

“I’d like that,” she whispered.

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @raplinethereal @dixiethemorab24 @xoxohollands @prongsandprancer @ch0kemedracomalfoy @avlauriaa @purpleskymalfoy @mariah-can-dream @drxcomvlfx @sydnee-kom-spacekru @dracosgoodgirl

#Draco Malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x yn #draco malfoy imagines #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x potter!reader #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #harry potter sister #potter!reader #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #draco fluff

[just-some-gt-trash]

2.- Glitch

AND I AM LATE TO MY OWN OROMT LIST WUUUUUU

Tbh I underestimated how much my writing has improved since my last monthly list, and therefore how much time I need to write.

But here is day two! On day five!

Pairings: Lomoceit

Summary: Logan was created with the purpose of providing humans with all the knowledge they needed. Unfortunately, his creator passed away before he was launched to the market, leaving him activated on his old house. His existence has been pretty boring since then. Until a cute couple moved next door.

—————————————————————————

Logan was looking out the window as usual. It was one of his usual activities since he didn't really have anything else to do, but today was different. There was a couple moving next door.

Logan had seen them go in and out of their new house for hours. It wasn't like he had anything else to do, and it didn't exactly get boring either. He was analyzing the way they walked, the way they carried boxes, and every movement they made. He was programmed for that after all.

It didn't take long for the sky to get dark so he started the “night shift” for the house. It only turned on all the lights and made sure the energy saving settings were off. He didn't know why he was still doing it since there was no one living in the house, but it helped him establish a routine.

A soft nuzzle against his legs snapped him out of his thoughts. Well, the house wasn't completely empty. Perhaps saying there were no humans living there was more adequate.

Logan kneeled down to pet the head of the house dog, Thomas. He knew dogs were quite affectionate creatures, especially this one, so pets were the way to go when trying to calm it down. “It is still not time for your dinner Thomas”, he reminded it “I’ll make sure to feed you as always. Do not worry about that.” Thomas only walked away in response, most likely to go take a nap or something.

Logan sighed and looked back out. Apparently the couple decided to stop for the day. It was logical, they must be tired from working all day after all. Still, Logan couldn't really understand why he was so disappointed he couldn't see them anymore. He would have to wait for tomorrow.

There was some movement on one of the windows from the neighbor's house. One of the humans pocked their head through the window and looked out, making direct eye contact with Logan. The human smiled widely and waved at him. Logan only stepped aside and closed the curtains of his own house. Having a relationship with a human wouldn't be a good idea.

Patton was unpacking his collection of snowglobes. The shelf above the chimney was the perfect spot! He was loving every single minute of unpacking and redecorating their new home. Him and Janus had taken a big step when they decided to move together, and Patton couldn't be happier.

Well, he could. Patton noticed his neighbor had been looking at them through their window. Janus would freak out, but Patton thought they just looked lonely. He really wanted to go and introduce himself but didn't have the chance, until now.

Janus was out looking for a job nearby, so Patton had the house all for himself. He had spent the previous days trying out their new kitchen and had plenty of pastries to offer to his neighbor. So Patton packed some cookies up on a nice gift bag and headed out of his house.

Patton rang the doorbell of his neighbor’s house and waited patiently for someone to answer. A couple of seconds passed and Patton decided to try again, still nothing. “Hello? Is anybody home?” He was starting to get a little bit desperate and started ringing the doorbell multiple times in a row.

A groan could be heard from the other side of the door before it opened. A tall and slim man wearing formal clothes stood in front of him “Good morning. I politely ask you to stop playing with my doorbell and go back to your own house.”

Patton smiled at them “Hello. I’m Patton, he/him pronouns,” he extended his hand towards him.

Logan raised an eyebrow and sighed. He took Patton's hand and gave a firm handshake “You may call me Logan, and I suppose pronouns are not quite suitable for me but I’m mostly referred to as a male.”

Patton blinked “so… he/they?”

Logan shrugged “however you want to adress me is fine for me. It's not really something I’ve thought about before.” Perhaps he could look more into it later.

“Well, whatever makes you comfortable then!” Patton nodded with a wide smile. He had never met someone so formal with their words like Logan. He reminded him of an old fashioned butler.

Logan nodded back slightly. “Now as I was saying.” He felt a gentle nudge on his legs as he asked Patton to leave once again.

Patton looked down and gasped. “You have a dog?!” He kneeled down to pet it happily.

Logan was taken aback by Patton ignoring him. He looked down at them “I do, theoretically. Thomas doesn't exactly belongs to me but I do serve as it's caregiver.”

“It's adorable. Is it a golden retriever?” Patton loved dogs. He loved all animals but was unfortunately allergic to cats so he couldn't get one. He was halfway through convincing Janus to get a dog though!

Logan shook his head a bit. “Thomas is a red golden retriever, you may notice a variation on the color of its fur.”

Patton nodded, “that makes sense. You're so lucky to have a cute dog like this one.” Patton chuckled softly as he kept petting Thomas.

Logan hummed, “I suppose I am. It does need a lot of physical activity and special diet needs, but I’ve managed to accommodate its necessities.”

Patton smiled softly, “sounds like fun! This good guy must have the time of his life going on walks.”

“Ah,” Logan pushed his glasses up, “not exactly. Neither Thomas nor I get out of this house. It can run around in the backyard and I make sure to keep it entertained. I also built a rather complicated machine that helps it keep the healthy levels of exercise it needs.”

Patton looked up at Logan with wide eyes “woah. Wait, you seriously never get out of your house?”

Logan shook his head “I don't.” As much as he wanted to 'info dump’ on Patton, his purpose and functionality must remain a secret until his official release to the public. “I am not quite fond of being outdoors.”

Patton frowned a bit. “Well, maybe we could go out one day!”

Logan blinked “Pardon?”

Patton stood back up and nodded with a smile. “We can take Thomathy for a walk, or just explore the neighborhood together! Oh! And I can bring my partner Janus! I’m sure you two will get along!”

That… surprisingly didn't sound bad? Logan hummed as he tried to understand why. “As uh, lovely as that sounds, I’m afraid it won't be possible.”

Patton's smile dropped “oh, it's alright. I guess we can come visit again sometime then?”

Logan thought for a bit, having humans around wasn't a good idea. He wasn't supposed to be interacting with anyone without the host’s permission in the first place, but he knew he wasn't going to get it either way. “That can be possible.”

Patton’s smile returned, and Logan couldn't help but smile back at that. “Sounds like a plan then! Should I uh… give you my number?”

“You can. Just tell it to me and I’ll memorize it to call you later.”

Patton nodded and did that. “Then I’ll be seeing you and Thomas soon!” Patton gave one last pet to the dog. “Oh! And I almost forgot!” He handed Logan the bag of cookies, “I backed these earlier in the week but they're still good and I figured I could share some with you!”

Logan took the bag, he couldn't eat but it was just an act of courtesy. “Thank you Patton. We’ll be pleased to have you around again”

And with that, Patton made his way back home. He waved at Logan as he walked away.

Logan waved back and instructed Thomas to go back inside the house before closing the door behind them. He looked down at the cookies with a small smile. He felt something warm on his chest… and then it became pain.

Logan groaned and rubbed his head. He looked at his hand as it started glitching. The censor on the ceiling started beeping. “Thomas, I need to inactivate myself.” He walked to the living room and left the cookies on the coffee table. “I’ll be back to feed you.” Logan looked up at the censor and his physical form pixelated away until he disappeared completely.

Logan hadn't had any manteinece whatsoever since his creator passed away. He hadn't had any issues until now. Did it have anything to do with Patton visiting? Either way, he needed to rest and let the system analyze him.

Patton took the batch of cookies out of the oven just in time. They would be heading to Logan’s house to hang out soon and he figured he would bake for him again.

Janus wasn’t as excited as his boyfriend. “Are you sure this Logan guy wants me there?”

“Of course!” Patton nodded, “he never said you couldn’t come.”

Janus sighed, “that still doesn’t mean I’m welcome in his house.”

Patton took off his oven mittens and looked over at his partner. “Come on Jan, we need to meet new people. You haven’t been that friendly with your coworkers.”

“They keep misgendering me.” Janus defended themselves, “I don’t want to be friends with people that can’t do something as simple as respecting pronouns.”

“I do not believe there’s not a single person in that office that uses they/them for you” Patton walked closer to them as they talked. He took their hands. “I know you don’t like new people, but I already did half the work for you,” he chuckled a bit. “Logan is not a complete stranger, and he sounds smart! You could probably talk about techy stuff.”

Janus rolled their eyes a bit at Patton. “Fine, just because you say he’s nice.”

Patton smiled and gave Janus a quick kiss “I promise, we’ll have a fun time!”

Logan was freaking out. Not only was his glitch getting worse no matter how many times the system told him there were no errors, but his creator’s family finally found out he was dead.

Based on the information they shared with him, they weren’t really close to their family and they thought they were crazy for trying to be an inventor. It was no surprise for Logan that it took them weeks to hear the news, but he wasn’t expecting them to want the house either.

Logan didn’t know how, but he was scared. Those people visited early and even called a shelter to come and take Thomas with them. They weren’t even going to keep it! Logan was able to call them and cancel of course. One of his assigned tasks was to take care of the house dog.

If, no, when they manage to move in it’s not going to take them long to find out the censors around the house are apparently doing nothing and then they would get rid of them. The probabilities of Logan ending up in the trash was 85.6%. The other 14.4% were the probabilities of him being recycled.

They left about an hour ago but Logan didn’t know what to do. Those humans were… dumb, for the lack of a better word. They were used to farm life and most likely knew nothing about technology. Even if Logan revealed himself to them, they would be useless, maybe even a burden, taking care of him.

The doorbell rang, shit. With everything that happened, Logan forgot about Patton and Janus’ visit. Well he didn’t forget, but his processing system didn’t categorize it as a priority. Logan took a deep breath as if he needed oxygen and hoped he wouldn’t glitch while they were here. He would kick them out, but he was really looking forward to hanging out with them for some reason.

Logan opened the door and offered them a warm smile. “Good evening, it’s a pleasure to have you both here.”

Patton smiled back at him “Thank you for inviting us Logan.”

“You’re welcome.” Logan nodded slightly and stepped aside “you can come in.”

Patton nodded and walked inside hand in hand with Janus. Thomas ran to them excitedly and almost tackled Patton. “Woah there,” he chuckled, “it’s nice to see you too buddy.”

Janus held the bag of cookies so Patton could pet the dog. They smiled a bit at it and looked back at Logan. “I’m Janus, they/them pronouns.”

Logan nodded “It’s nice to finally meet you. Patton mentioned you in the little time we talked the other day.”

Patton blushed slightly and chuckled. “Well, they are the love of my life after all.”

Janus blushed darkly and gave Patton’s foot a slight kick.

Logan looked between them as he tried to analyze the situation. There was no way of making it less awkward but he was still going to try. “Would you like to go outside? There’s a back porch with a small living room where we can spend some time, and Thomas would get to run around and play with you if you want.”

“Sounds good to me!” Patton nodded. Thomas had gotten off him as soon as it heard ‘outside’.

Janus nodded in agreement “As long as there’s not any mosquitos attacking me.”

“The porch has an anti-bug system installed as well as a radiator and plenty of lighting in case the evening gets too cold,” Logan explained. “I can guarantee there won’t be any mosquitoes bugging us.”

Patton snorted at the joke and Janus rolled their eyes. “Great, you found someone with the same licking for dad jokes Patt.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “I don’t think I understand.”

“Mosquitoes, bugging us.” Patton tried to explain, “don’t tell me the joke wasn’t intentional.”

Logan recalled his words in his mind and finally understood. “Ah, no, I’m afraid it wasn’t. But I can certainly make some jokes if those are of your liking.”

Patton smirked, “oh please. I love Janus’ annoyed face every time I make one” he chuckled and kissed his partner’s cheek.

Logan didn’t know what it was, but it didn’t feel quite right to see Patton and Janus interacting as a couple. He was well aware they were dating and all but seeing them being so affectionate with each other made him feel… glitchy. “Why don’t you go ahead while I put those aside?” He looked at the bag of cookies on Janus’ hands, “just go all the way down the hallway and you will see a clear door.”

Janus nodded a bit and handed the cookies to Logan before walking away, Patton and Thomas following behind them.

Logan hurried to the kitchen and closed the door behind him. He started to glitch again, the bag going through his hands and falling to the floor. This was bad, he couldn’t let Patton or Janus see him like this. He picked up the cookies and left them in the pantry next to the previous batch Patton gave him, which remained untouched, and went outside with the humans.

Things were going surprisingly well. Logan got the chance to get to know the couple better and even talk to Janus alone while Patton was in the bathroom. He hadn’t glitched again and was having a really fun time with them. Everything was perfect, but of course, it didn’t last long.

Logan’s sensors detected a car parking in front of the house. The same car that had been there earlier, oh no. Logan excused himself to go look outside, only to confirm that those humans were in fact his creator’s family again. Logan started one of the security protocols of the house and locked the doors. He had to figure out how to get Patton and Janus out of the house.

To make things even worse, Logan started glitching again. He was running out of time! His systems must definitely be overheating right now. He held down his glitches and would try to repress them as much as he could. He went back outside “Alright, I’m going to have to be completely honest with you two now.”

Patton looked at him with a confused look “What’s wrong?”

“I am going to explain everything that is going on, but you are going to have to trust me. There’s some people trying to come inside the house. We can’t let them know we’re here.” Logan tapped a specific spot on the ground and the coffee table rose up revealing a staircase going down into the ground. “No one knows about this place, we’ll be safe if we go down there.”

Janus stood up and pulled Patton with them. “What?! You seriously can’t expect us to go in there.”

Logan had started the ‘sleeping mode' on the house and the lights inside turned off. “Please. I am well aware that we don’t really know each other, and you have absolutely no reason to trust me. But I don’t want you to get in trouble within your first month of living here.”

Patton looked inside as the lights went off, them at the secret entrance, and then at his partner. “We have to Jan.”

“No we don’t. He could be trying to kill us or something,” Janus pulled Patton away. “We’re leaving.” They were about to open the door to go back in when they heard footsteps from the inside and stepped back. They looked at Patton, who gave them a reassuring nod. They sighed “fine, but I swear if you try anything sketchy.”

“I won’t. This is merely for your safety.” Logan made a hand movement towards the stairs, instructing Thomas to go down.

The humans gave each other one last look before going down as well. Logan followed them and made the entrance close behind them.

Downstairs was a secret bunker his creator made in case of an emergency. It was equipped with one of Logan’s sensors, tools in case he needed fixing, food and water for humans and dogs, and Logan’s ‘heart’. It wasn’t really a heart of course, it was just a large cpu that contained all his programming and archives.

Janus looked around the room, focusing on the cpu as they admired how advanced it was. “What is this place?”

“A bunker, technically.” Logan knew it wasn't able to protect humans from all natural or human created disasters, but it definitely made the chances of survival bigger.

“Alright, and why did we have to come down here then? Who are those people?” Janus was getting quite defensive. Logan was nice and all but this situation made them feel like their safety was at risk.

Logan let out a sigh. “I promised I would explain.” He stood under his sensor and looked up at it. “This house is not my property. All of this belonged to my creator.”

Patton raised an eyebrow. “Your creator? You mean your parent?”

“If you would like to see it that way.” Logan had never thought about it like that. “The thing is, I am not human. I am a virtual home assistant. There are censors all around the house that allow me to materialize in a room and control the different electronic devices such as lights or security systems. I was created to help humans with their daily tasks through the day, as well as provide knowledge about any subject of interest. What I do not know I can learn through the internet.

Patton and Janus looked at each other as Logan explained. Janus let out a dry chuckle “so you’re like Siri.”

Logan winced, “please don't call me that. Siri is not as advanced as myself and it's obsolete in comparison.” He fixed his glasses and spoke quite proudly.

Patton couldn't help but chuckle at that. He let go of Janus’ hand and walked closer to Logan. “You're a hologram then?”

“Not exactly. Every molecule of my body is digitalized but I do possess a physical form.” Logan reached to grab Patton's hand. “I am able to touch and interact with other physical stuff around me as long as I’m activated. There's also a setting that keeps me in ‘voice mode’ just like other virtual assistants.”

Patton intertwined his fingers with Logan’s “and you're here all alone? Well, with Thomas.”

Logan looked down at their hands and nodded, “I am. My creator passed away not that long ago, but their family just found out about it.” He glitched, making his fingers go through Patton's. “The censors in the house are the only thing that keep me… alive, in a way. If those people move here and don't uninstall them properly-”

“You disappear,” Janus interrupted them. “And even if they don't, without someone checking your systems, you'll keep failing.”

Logan nodded and glitched again. “There must be some kind of error on my program but I'm not being able to detect it.” He walked to his cpu, “the only thing I know is that it started when Patton first visited.”

Patton walked back to Janus, “you can fix him!”

“What? Me? Why should I? We barely even know him and I wouldn't even be able to decipher his code without any sort of help from the developer,” Janus explained.

Patton sighed, “we can't just leave Logan to die.”

“I wouldn't die, I would just cease to exist,” Logan looked back at them. “My creator had several journals where he explained all the process of my development. All the information needed for me to function is here,” he tapped the cpu a couple of times.

“Please Jan.” Patton took his partner’s hands and squeezed them, “we can't just do nothing. I would do it myself but I know nothing about computers and programming and all that stuff you do.”

Janus looked at between Logan and Patton, they sighed. “Fine, but it’s going to take time. I’m not completely sure when I’ll be able to activate you again. We would have to take the cpu to our house as well as the censors and install them there.

Logan nodded, “I understand. The cpu itself it’s enough to have me active on a monitor, so I’ll be able to guide you through the whole process. We can get started as soon as the people upstairs leave.”

And they did. Patton and Janus managed to move the cpu to their home and connect it to their computer. A digital version of Logan lived on the screen and he was still able to communicate with the humans. Besides working on getting Logan’s physical form back, they started doing more hanging up nights. They got to know each other better, but that only seemed to make Logan’s errors worse.

Janus made some significant progress and was able to activate a mini Logan using their phone as a sensor. He was even able to walk around the desk freely. But they still couldn’t find the cause of the glitching.

Patton made sure to help with what he could. He took care of Thomas, who was now living as their dog, and made sure Janus didn’t overwork.

During one of the many casual talks Janus and Logan had, the topic of pronouns came up. “How did you know you wanted to go by they/them?”

Janus shrugged, “It’s not really something like a big revelation or something. I just came across the non-binary label and different sets of pronouns, they/them just sounds right.”

Logan hummed. He had gone through all the articles he could find online about the topic and still didn’t fully understand. “Would it make sense for me to use them? I do not really have a gender and I’ve been thinking about that since Patton introduced himself. My physical form can be altered through my code and I don’t know how being a boy or a girl feels like.” He started rambling about his worries. Did he want this only because it was logical?

Janus listened as they kept working, they eventually stopped to look at the small assistant sitting on their desk. “If you want to try it, go ahead. It’s not a bad thing to change your label or how you want people to refer to you as you discover more about yourself. You become more sentient with every new code and every upgrade you get. I suppose it resembles your growth, not as an artificial intelligence, but as a person.”

Logan looked up at them, “that… makes sense…” He glitched, and an idea came to his, their? Their mind, “that’s it!.” Logan stood up and walked to Janus’ phone to go back into the monitor. They looked through the codes until they found what they were looking for. “I become more sentient with every upgrade, but I haven’t been upgraded in months,” they looked at Janus through the screen. “Somehow I was able to develop a wider range of emotions, more than the original intent. I’ve become more advanced than my last upgrade.”

Janus’ eyes went wide as they understood what Logan was saying, “you need an upgrade, one that allows your system to process those emotions as part of you and not as an error.”

Logan nodded, “exactly. Do you think you can do it?”

“Well, we’ve come this far. I’m sure an upgrade won’t be as hard as it sounds.”

Logan chuckled a bit and looked back at their codes. “You know, I do want to try going by they/them pronouns. The agender label sounds like the most accurate for me.”

Janus smiled softly and tapped the screen with one finger. “Welcome to the club then.”

Logan looked back at him and placed their hand on Janus’ finger. They smiled and glitched again as that warm feeling on his chest returned.

“Are you ready Patt?”

Patton bounced on his feet with excitement, he had Thomas running around him. “I am! Come on come ooon! Activate them!”

Janus chuckled and kissed Patton’s cheek. “Patton, darling, I present to you,” they tried to reach up to activate the sensor but underestimated how tall the ceiling was. “Oh come on!”

Patton held back a laugh and grabbed his partner under their armpits to lift them up. “There you go!”

Janus yelped and blushed, “this is the last time I let you pick me up…” They both knew that wasn’t true, but Patton would let them think it was. “As I was saying, I present to you” they turned the sensor on.

It glowed with a dark blue light and projected a beam of light under it. Several pixels appeared and fused together until Logan’s physical form was completed. “L.O.G.A.N 6.4!”

Logan opened their eyes and let them adjust to the light in the room. Their scanners recognized Janus and Patton as the new hosts, and Thomas as the house dog. “Greetings, your L.O.G.A.N 6.4 has been successfully upgraded and activated, please wait for previous data to download completely.” Logan stood still as they finished their upgrading process. They blinked once they were ready.

“Logan?” Patton walked closer to them, a bit worried something went wrong and they went back to default mode.

Logan smiled softly, “it’s me, hello Patton”

Patton squealed and hugged Logan tightly. “It worked! It really worked!”

Janus joined the group hug happily. “It’s so nice to have you back Lo.”

Logan wrapped their arms around the humans with a slight blush. They didn’t glitch this time, not that it surprised them since they fixed that issue, but it felt different than they expected it to feel. “It’s nice to be back.”

Their systems weren’t able to fully comprehend every emotion just yet, but Logan was sure of something. They never wanted to live alone again. No, they never wanted to live without Janus and Patton again.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #my writing #lexy writes #october prompt list 2021 #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #logic sanders #morality sanders #deciet sanders #partially gt(? #sanders sides au #lomoceit #loceit #moceit #logicality #thomas sanders #thomas is a dog- #tw: mentions of death

[astralpenguin]

@transnaturalweek day 4: characters of colour

1.2k, ao3 link

“Are you changing your name?”

“Huh?”

Channing glanced back down at her notebook, which was sitting dead centre of an explosion of paper, textbooks, and writing utensils. “You don’t have to, obviously.”

“I just told you I’m a guy, and that’s your only takeaway?”

She put her pen down and looked up at her friend. “Of course not,” she said. “I just don’t want to get your name wrong. It’d be pretty shitty of me to deadname you immediately after you came out to me.”

Her friend smiled nervously. “I guess,” he said. “It wouldn’t really be deadnaming if you didn’t know an alternative.”

“Dude,” she said, shaking her head, “trust me on this. Hearing my deadname pisses me off so much even when it comes from people who literally don’t know any better, and because they don’t know any better there isn’t even anyone I can direct my anger at. No way do I wanna do that to you.”

His smile looked more genuine now. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” said Channing, leaning forwards. “Answer the question. What should I be calling you?”

He shrugged. “I do want to change my name, but I don’t know what to yet.”

Channing looked down at her study materials. Her history notes were still incomplete. She’d been halfway through a sentence when her friend had interrupted their study session to come out to her.

She closed her notebook.

“Let’s brainstorm.”

He blinked.

“We’re supposed to be studying though?” He tapped the end of his pen against his open notebook.

Channing shrugged. “We’ve been at it for a couple of hours already, and we’re both gonna ace this class anyway. We can afford to take a little bit of time out from studying to look over some name options for you.” She gently elbowed him in the side. “Besides,” she said, “you helped me with picking out my name. I wanna return the favor.”

He looked at her. Swallowed. His eyes looked suspiciously wet.

He closed his notebook and pushed it to the side.

“Thank you,” he said. “This means a lot.”

Channing dragged her laptop over and pressed a key to wake it up. “Again, don’t thank me for this. It’s bare minimum stuff.”

He put an arm around her middle and pulled her into a hug. “Maybe,” he said, “but I was kinda freaking out about this, and you’re making me feel loads better.”

She hugged him back. “Yeah, I remember the feeling. Even when you know it’s gonna be okay, it’s still scary.”

Keeping one arm around him, and with him keeping one arm around her, Channing opened a browser and brought up three different baby name websites.

Now her friend rolled his eyes. “Seriously?”

“This was my first step too,” she said. “I didn’t get you involved in my name selection process until I had a shortlist ready. Have you got that far?”

He admitted that he had not.

One of the baby name websites got disregarded in its entirety after five minutes of browsing told them that it considered ten different and increasingly baffling spellings of the name Sebastian to be ten distinctly different names.

“I haven’t told Mom yet,” he said as they scrolled through the J names on website number two. “You’re the only one who knows.”

Channing squeezed her arm around him and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m honoured you came to me first.”

He laughed softly. “Yeah, well. You’re basically my favourite person, so.”

“I thought your mom was your favourite person.”

“Okay, you’re tied.”

“If anything I think that’s the greater honor here.” She grinned. “Like, yeah I’m the first one you’ve told about being a guy, but to consider me to be as important in your life as the great Linda Tran? I don’t think it’s possible for you to say anything nicer about someone than that.”

He sighed, but it sounded fond. “Why am I friends with you again?”

“The answer to that question is lost to time.”

He shook his head and scrolled down.

“I’m going to tell her soon, I think,” he said. “I’m not planning on doing it tomorrow or anything, but...”

He trailed off into silence and stopped scrolling.

Channing waited a few moments, but when it became clear that he wasn’t going to continue talking on his own, she sat up and pulled slightly away from him, taking her arm back. He turned to face her and she looked him in the eye.

“But?”

He picked up a stray pen and clicked it once, twice. “I want her to know the real me,” he said. “I know she won’t have a problem with it. She’s a good person, and she loves you, and she’s told me so many times that she’ll love me no matter what. I’m not worried about any of that. But this is big, you know?”

Channing nodded.

“And things will be different after I tell her. I do want to do it, and I want to do it soon. Just. Not yet.”

“That’s fine,” said Channing. “It’s up to you who you tell and when you tell them.”

“I know.” He looked at the computer screen and sighed. “She’ll probably expect me to have a name already picked out when I do it, though.”

That did sound a lot like Linda. “She just wants you to be the best at everything.”

“Yep,” he said, a bubble of laughter escaping in his voice. “Even at being trans.”

“If anyone can possibly find a way to be the best at being trans, I’m sure that it’ll be you.”

He hummed in thought and smiled at her. “Unless it’s you.”

“Unless it’s me,” she agreed. “But I think this is the one occasion in which I’m willing to concede the crown if it’ll keep Ms Linda Tran happy.”

His face and voice filled with mock disappointment. “But then I won’t have truly earned my victory, and what’s the point in that?”

Channing shook with laughter.

“Hey,” he said. “Pick a name for me.”

Channing stopped laughing.

“What?”

“Pick a name for me,” he said again. “If I don’t like it or don’t think it fits then I won’t keep it, but all these names are blurring together and I can’t tell which ones sound good anymore.”

“You don’t have to make a final decision today. We said we were brainstorming, that’s all this has to be.”

“I know. Pick a name for me.”

She took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “If you’re sure.”

She looked at the website.

She scrolled down.

“Matthew?”

“Matthew Tran,” he said aloud. He scrunched his face a little. “No, I’m not a Matthew.”

She scrolled some more. “Neil?”

He shook his head. “I’m definitely not a Neil.”

She scrolled down even further. “Sam?”

He actually laughed at that one. “Absolutely not. It’s way too close to a rhyme.”

“Yeah,” she said, “you’re right. I always think that the parents of kids with rhyming names must’ve hated them, so you really don’t want to do that to yourself. Self respect is important.” She scrolled back up so that she was looking at the upper middle section of the list. “What about Kevin?”

For a few seconds, neither of them said anything.

Then...

“Huh.”

“Huh?”

“Kevin Tran,” he said. “I think I like that.”

“You want me to call you Kevin?”

He nodded. “Just for now,” he said. “I might change my mind about it later, but for now I’m good with using that.”

“Okay then, Kevin,” said Channing. She closed the baby name websites and pushed her laptop away. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. Let’s order food.”

Kevin practically beamed.

#transnaturalweek #spn #supernatural #kevin tran #channing ngo #fanfic #el creates

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Unfaithful | Part Five

Series Summary: After dreaming of your perfect wedding since you were a little girl the big day is almost here. But after meeting the priest you start to question your relationship.

Pairing: Hot Priest x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2005

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, drunk priest, bad friend 

A/N: Please be warned there will be some themes of toxic/abusive relationship in this series. Also, spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :)

Part Four | Masterlist

- - - - -

I can’t sleep. 

Half excited for my hen party, and half nervous for the talk I know I need to have with the priest. 

I spend hours lying awake imagining how the conversation will go, all the possible outcomes. I must of drifted off some time in the early hours because I'm awakened at 9am by a text from Daniel: 

‘You looked so peaceful when I left for work I didn’t want to disturb you. But I just realised that since I’m going straight out with the boys for my stag do later, the next time we see each other I’ll be in my suit and you’ll be in your dress walking down the aisle to me. I can’t wait. Enjoy the fundraiser and have and wonderful hen party tonight. I love you Mrs Davison xxx’

The text makes me smile, until I read the last sentence. ‘Mrs Davison’ send a panic rushing through me. This suddenly all feels very real. I’m getting married tomorrow. I take a deep breath. It’s fine. I'm fine. This is just pre-wedding nerves. Completely normal. 

I take another deep breath and get out of bed. 

— — — — 

“Ah Y/N! You’re here” Pam greets me at the church doors and swiftly ushers me around the side of the building towards the church garden where the fundraiser has already started “We’ve got an emergency” 

“What do you mean?” I reply as she leads me through crowds of people till we reach a table lined with various numbered prizes. 

“Ruth was supposed to be running the raffle but she’s just called to say she can’t make it, ate something bad she thinks and now she can’t stop throwing up.” 

I grimace slightly at the story but mostly I’m just wondering what any of this has to do with me…

“So if you wouldn’t mind taking over and running it for us that would be wonderful. Tickets are a pound each. Thank you!” 

Before I can say anything she’s gone, rushing off to check the youth band are ready for their performance. I stand bewildered for a moment, looking around at the crowds until I spot the priest who is currently admiring cupcakes at the bakery stand and laughing about something. Suddenly he turns and locks eyes with me. His face drops, he stares at me like a deer in headlights. I give him a small smile, which he doesn’t return. My heart hurts. 

“Excuse me, how much is a ticket?” Someone asks, forcing me to turn my attention away

“One pound” 

“Can I get five please” 

By the time I complete the transaction and look back to the bakery stand the priest is gone. I scan the crowd again, but there’s no sign of him. 

An hour later I still don't know where he is. What I do know is I really need the loo. I ask the person on the stall next to me to watch the table while I head inside in search of the toilets, but when I enter the building I bump into someone. 

It’s him. 

“What are you doing here?” He asks

“Just trying to find the ladies room” 

“I mean here, at this stupid event”

“Pam didn’t really give me a choice” I explain and he just looks irritated “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I wasn’t welcome”

“I just wasn’t expecting to see you here today”

“Well here I am” I say dryly and there’s an awkward silence. I take a deep breath before I speak again “I actually wanted to talk to you… about what happened-”

“Nothing happened. We agreed”

“But it did happen, Father, we need to talk about it”

“Oh, fuck you calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it”

My mouth drops open, dumbfounded by his comment. I shake my head slightly as I try and think of something to say.

“I know what you’ve been doing” he continues

“Please, enlighten me because I have no idea what you're talking about!”

“Playing the sweet, innocent girl. Making me like you, fall for you. Making me think that you needed saving from the douchebag boyfriend… Was any of it real? Was anything you said actually true?” 

“I never lied to you” I almost whisper as he gets really close to my face, moving my hair off my cheek to study what’s left of the burn scars.

“Did he ever really hurt you? Or did you just make that up so I’d feel sorry for you”

“Fuck you!” I say through gritted teeth as I start to walk away, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. I stop and look back at him “You’re the one who told me you loved me, remember? That was you! If you regret it, that’s fine. There’s no need to be such a dick about it” 

I turn and leave again, his final words repeating through my head as I walk away. 

As I walk home I can’t stop the tears from coming as I replay the conversation in my head over and over again. Why is he being like this? How can he be so loving to me one day and so nasty a few days later? What changed?

I get home and go straight to bed. I wrap myself up in the duvet and try to push everything out of my mind so I can get in a quick nap before I have to get ready for my hen party. The last thing I feel like doing right now is going out celebrating, but I know there’s no way I could cancel.

Thank God there’s going to be alcohol there. 

— — — — 

“Bride’s turn! Truth or Dare?”

“Truth” I say happily, finishing off my third glass of wine. 

“Okay… if you could have a free pass and choose any celebrity, who would you sleep with?”

The girls start whooping and laughing, but before I can even answer Tiffany cuts in.

“She won’t answer that, she’s far too vanilla”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, slightly offended by her tone.

“Don't start Tiff” Eva rolls her eyes

“I’m not starting anything, I’m just telling the truth. She’s only ever had one boyfriend and she’s marrying him tomorrow. She lost her virginity to him and I bet you anything that they schedule the days in the week when they’ll go to bed and have boring missionary sex. Vanilla! She’s never even kissed another guy…”

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or the way she’s talking about me like I’m not here, but I can feel myself getting more and more irritated.

“Actually I have!” I speak up and she laughs.

“A kiss from your dad doesn’t count”

The room falls silent as everyone stops to watch my reaction. I can see from Tiffany’s face she instantly regrets her words. She knows how much I miss my dad, but it’s too late to take it back now.  

“Well done Tiff” I hear Eva say as I walk away from the group. I head outside and take a deep breath of the fresh air. Looking up at the stars I find myself thinking of my parents and wishing they were here. 

“I’m sorry” Tiffany’s voice makes me jump, I hadn’t realised she’d followed me outside and was now leaning against the wall next to me “that was a low blow, I shouldn’t have said that”

“It doesn’t matter” I mutter quietly 

“It does! I should have thought about what I was saying… I just forgot”

“I forget too. So often I pick up my phone to call him and realise he won’t be on the other end. I would give anything for them to be here right now”

“I know, come here” she pulls me in for a hug, squeezing me tightly before leaning away to look me in the face “I’m sorry I called you vanilla”

“Maybe I am. You were right, I’ve only ever been with Daniel. Until this week he was the only man I’d ever kissed!”

“This week?” She pulls away completely and my heart drops as I realise what I’ve just said “You kissed someone? Who?”

“No I- I didn’t mean to say that” 

“Its okay, you can tell me. We have been friends forever haven’t we?”

“I guess… but you can’t tell the others!”

“I won’t”

“Promise me Tiff!”

“I promise!”

I take a breath. 

“I kissed the priest” 

“What priest?” She replies blankly.

“THE Priest! The one who’s doing the wedding tomorrow!”

She stares at me blankly for a moment as she processes what I’ve just told her. I can almost see the cogs turning in her brain and suddenly the penny drops.

“OH MY GOD!”

“I know”

“Y/N!” 

“I know!”

“Does Daniel know?”

“Of course not”

“You have to tell him!”

“Are you insane?! He’d go mad!”

“He deserves to know that his so called fiancé has been cheating on him”

“I haven’t been cheating on him, it was just one stupid drunken kiss”

“If it was ‘just a kiss’ why haven’t you told him?”  

“Because-” I think about telling her the truth. That if I told him he’d get angry and most likely hurt me. But I don’t. “I just can’t”

“If you don’t, I will” 

“No, Tiff please you can’t”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go there now and tell him” she says and stares at me as I silently stare back at her. When she begins to walk away I panic.

“Because he hurts me!” I finally admit, and she looks back at me confused “That’s why I’ve been too scared to tell him”

“No” she shakes her head “No he wouldn’t, he swore he’d never be like his dad”

“And he’s not. He’s not as bad as his father was, he just gets angry and sometimes he takes it out on me.” I explain but she’s still shaking her head in disbelief “a few days ago I had to go to the hospital because he burnt me” I pull the collar of my dress down to expose the burn scars on my neck “this is what’s left of him throwing boiling hot coffee in my face”

She looks from my neck to my face, sadness in her eyes as she processes everything. After a few moments she finally speaks. 

“I won’t tell him” 

“Thank you!” I breathe a sigh of relief 

“But I also won’t be at the wedding tomorrow” 

“Tiff, you're my maid of honour! My best friend! I need you”

“I can’t pretend to be happy for you, pretend that I agree with this marriage. I’m sorry”

“Tiff! Tiffany!” I call after her but she continues to walk away, hailing a passing taxi and disappearing into the night. 

“Y/N? What happened? Where’s Tiff?” Eva asks, poking her head out the door and looking around. 

“She’s gone” I say simply, turning to look at her “Guess I need a new maid of honour” 

— — — — 

The following morning goes by in a blur. The girls, minus Tiffany, stayed at my house over night while Daniel stayed at his mate’s house. I was awakened by the sounds of the girls running upstairs, screaming excitedly that “today is the day” as they jumped into my bed. 

Once they’d calmed down we had all gone downstairs for a light breakfast before the girls began getting ready. Maybe it’s the constant sound of laughing and chatting, or maybe its the slight hangover from the night before but I suddenly feel the need to get out. I excuse myself and head outside to get some air, taking a seat on the front step of my house. I take a few deep breaths and allow my head to drop into my hands, my elbows propped up on my knees. A few seconds later I hear footsteps up the driveway and look up to see the priest. 

“Hi” I say, unable to hide the confusion in my voice. 

“can we talk?” 

Final Chapter

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[mehphoobia]

TRIPLE TROUBLE (PART 2)

Pairing- Tom Holland(x3) x Reader

Summary- Who knew teasing Arvin, Peter and Tom, your three boyfriends would get you such a punishment...triple punishment.

Warning- ABSOLUTE FILTH (I don't know even how but the entire fic is smut. JUST SMUT.)

MASTERLIST | REQUESTS OPEN

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There weren't a lot of people who were into polyamorous relationships. Naturally having more than one person in your life would be a nightmare to anyone. But with Tom, Arvin and Peter everything just seemed so easy.

On some days Peter and you would go out on dates to a beach or just walking in the park hand-in-hand. On some days Tom and you would go to a movie together or sometimes it was a dinner date. With Arvin you felt like a teenage girl again who would be with her first boyfriend. You know the same hormonal teenagers who were always horny. Well that resulted in Arvin eating you out in the car as if there was so tomorrow or the both of you making out behind a bus.

Regardless it was never difficult with them, instead they made your life easier. Your favorite days were when you would tease them with your nudes, whenever you would go out for an office trip. Oh man you loved teasing them. But they had had enough of your teasing and little did you know it was your turn.

It had been two weeks since you had left for your office trip and you were excited to see them again. Your boys...you had missed them. When you stepped outside the airport you found Arvin waiting for you. "Babe!!" you yelled to have his attention towards you. "Hi!!" he mouthed as he ran to you and picked you up. Both of you chuckled and his familiar cologne comforted you. The endearing moment was over when you felt his fingers on the hem of your panties. "Ah" you gasped when you realized his fingers slowly had started making their way..inside.. The skirt you were wearing let him in with no difficulty and the overcoat you wore protected the world from the torture Arvin was doing to you.

"Let's go home kitten..they are waiting." Arvin whispered in your ears and he chuckled as he felt your fresh slick coat his fingers which were still massaging your velvety folds. "O-Okay" as he pulled his fingers out, your folds clenched around nothing.

The entire ride back home was..well difficult. Arvin played this sensual music while his fingers trailed up and down your thigs. That made things difficult because you were already riled up since your little reunion at the airport. "Already kitten? we still have the entire day ahead of us" Arvin chuckled as he saw your restlessness. You were frustrated as they never kept you waiting but you needed it.

You needed to cum.

When you reached home, Peter hugged you and helped with your bags. Tom took one look at knew what was going on. "Vin' already? I thought we were gonna wait." Tom talked sheepishly. "Couldn't control man, you have no idea how wet she is right now" Arvin said as he took out his overcoat and hung it. "Wait for what Tom?" you asked. "Payback time" Peter said as he made his way back, grabbed his bag and winked at you before stepping out of the house for his class.

You blushed as you entered your room and undressed yourself. "Sugar! Don't help yourself" Tom warned from the living room. "We will come to know" Arvin added. "Fucking triplets" you cursed. After stepping outside of your bath, you tried to hunt down your lingerie but you couldn't find any. "Arvin babe where is my lingerie?" you asked. "Not allowed today." You could have swore that you head them high fiving each other.

Around two hours later, Arvin had left for work and it was only Tom and you at the house. You were in the kitchen making some food for the both of you. Fuck your jetlag, two weeks of no sex and these triplets are making you wait. You were sexually frustrated.

"Hey" Tom whispered as he stood behind you dragging his lips on the nook of your neck. Your sexual frustration ran way somewhere when you him picking up your dress-shirt and felt his rock hard dick lined up in your entrance. "Wanna know where did you panties go?" he said while kissing your earlobe. You nodded, "hnng" you withered as he slapped the tip of his cock on your bud. But just when you were gonna cum he pulled away. "We will tell you later" he spoke with no difficulty, "NOOOO just please fuck me..please" you pleaded but he just caressed your hair and walked away. "I am gonna cry" that sexual frustration which had run away somewhere hit you like a truck when you felt your slick running down your thigs.

With all that sexual tension, you had to take a bath again to clean yourself. Now that all the three of your boys were home, you could only imagine what they would do to you. You stepped outside the bathroom and suddenly could feel hot breath on your neck. It was Peter. "Hey Y/N" he whispered. "Peter I just took a bath, I have to clean myself again if you continue to do this." you spoke with frustration clearly evident on your tone. On your sudden confession Peter cocked an eyebrow, placed the ice container and looked behind you. "Not anymore kitten, we have had our fun." Arvin spoke from behind nibbling on your left ear. "We can't control either" confessed Tom occupying your right side. You were sandwiched in between the three of them, it just felt so good. With their hands roaming around your skin and their legs parting your knees apart, oh you could melt away then and there.

Peter disrobed you and all the three of them looked at your now exposed body with lust in their eyes. Peter who was usually the shy one, was the first to crash his lips into yours. Tom made his way down and Arvin massaged your nipples. None of you spoke anything but your moans, all those sensations going around your skin and the three of them panting was enough. But the sudden silence was broken because of a sudden yelp extracted from you when Tom placed an ice cube on your inner thing. "So wet" Tom whispered as he slowly dragged his fingers along your folds followed by the ice cube.

Warm breaths, cold water suddenly on your bud and Tom's fingers slashing through you were enough to have you come undone with a loud moan. "That's it baby, missed this." panted Tom. Peter grabbed an ice cube himself and pressed them on your nipples, he alternated sucking and pressing the ice cube on your perked up nipples. "Ahh..so g-good...fuck" you moaned too emerged in the sensations and you felt Arvin's cock enter you from behind. The foreplay had made you wet enough for them to forego the lubricant. "Fucked you so well..but still this tight isn't it" Arvin panted as he slipped out completely only to slam back into you. "Think you can take Pete too?" Tom asked never once stopping his fingers inside you. "Yes p-please" you whimpered at the suggestion.

Arvin pulled out to have Peter adjusted. Tom fetched his cock out which bounced against his abdomen because of how riled up he was. "Couldn't control huh?" you mocked him as you stroked his dick. He smirked and moaned as you gulped around his cock in your mouth. "Ahh" "Fuck" Tom and Peter grunted as both of them entered you together. The sudden stretch was a bit painful but Peter massaged your clit. "HNNGH" you moaned but with Tom's cock deep down your throat, it only seemed like a vibration. Tom's head fell back as his sensitive cock head received the vibration of your moan.

Peter and Tom alternated and set a pace which had you quivering on the bed. You came the second time that night and Tom and Peter couldn't hold back at your clenching walls. Hot cum ran down your throat and from your pussy. It was rushed, rough and messy and they knew you loved it.

"Feel better?" Peter asked you and your smile said everything. "By the way where are my panties?" you suddenly remembered. All the three of them chuckled and Arvin said, "We jerked off to it."

What else could you say? The sudden confession had fresh slick oozing out of you..again.

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A/N: Okay guys on heavy request here is triple trouble part 2 for you guys. Honestly at this point I don't think its the reader who is sexually frustrated, its me. I mean this fic is pure filth. Do I love it? YAHABSOLUTELY 😂🤣

My inbox is free for requests so go on and dump in your plots and I will surely go through it. 💌

REQUESTS OPEN

Love yourself...you are worth it ❣❣

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