#we had jasmines in our old house i miss them

[heroes-of-olympus-next-gen]

DAY 8: Christmas Day

Part 2: Morning Three different Christmas mornings...

The sun slowly slight through the windows. It was heavily snowing all night long. Nico was happy that Will's grandmother wanted to host Christmas in her mansion in Boston. He was barely awake, and he could feel Will sleeping next to him. There was something so precious during that moment that he just wanted it to last forever.

The door started creaking and it opened slowly. He could clearly listen the conversation right outside their room.

“Shhh. Be quiet.” Bianca scolded her little brother.

“But we want them to get up.” Ryder explained only to be shushed by Bianca again.

“I want to open my presents.” Jasmine complained as she got last into the room.

“Then go do your thing.” He told her.

Nico heard Jasmine’s little footsteps and her climbing on the bed as she started giggling. “Daddies wake up. It’s Christmas! Santa came!” She said joyfully.

Will woke up and tackled Jasmine with a hug. That made her only giggle more. “Merry Christmas Jas.”

“Merry Christmas, daddy. Can we open presents now?” She pleaded.

“Don’t I get a Christmas hug?” Nico asked her which she immediately replied with a huge hug.

“Are Bianca and Ryder awake? You can’t open presents on your own.” Will informed his three-year-old.

“They are up. Bee, Ry, come here now!” She shouted.

“Did you eat any candy yet?” Nico asked her.

“Nope.”

Bianca and Ryder came inside as well and after a few minutes altogether they went downstairs where the huge and magnificent tree was standing with way too many gifts under it. Naomi made sure to put all the presents under the tree before the kids were awake.

“Good morning mum, Merry Christmas.” Will greeted Naomi who was already drinking her coffee.

“Merry Christmas.” She hugged her son. “I have a pot of coffee ready in the kitchen.”

“God job, Naomi. Continue encouraging his unhealthy coffee drinking habits.” Nico joked as he sat on the couch and Naomi offered him some Christmas cookies.

“You’re mean. Coffee is the greatest drink in existence.” Will debated.

“Where are my great-grand babies. I made hot chocolate.” Inez, Will’s grandmother said as she got in the living room.

“Merry Christmas, grandma. They are plotting against us.”

That moment Bianca, Ryder and Jasmine came downstairs and after they said Merry Christmas to Naomi and Inez they started opening their presents. After they were finished with all of them they started playing leaving a huge mess behind them. They didn’t sit down for a single moment the whole day and Nico didn’t have any storage on his phone by the end of the day from the many pictures he took. But their three kids ended up passing out on the couch by 9.

"Why did we thought having kids was a good idea?" Nico complained as he was picking out the wrapping paper from the floor.

“Despite the fact that they are amazing I have no idea.”

A few years later

It was 5 am and Zoe and Charlie were standing next to their huge Christmas tree. They were wearing Christmas sweaters and had stolen the cookie jar from the kitchen. “How are we supposed to put the star on top of the tree?”

“The important question is how did mum manage to put this through the front door? And why are we in charge of the star? We came home two days ago.” Zoe replied to her twin brother as she put another Christmas cookie in her mouth.

“Mum bought a nine feet tall tree. I am 6’6 and you’re 6’3. We can work things out.”

“It’s weird not living here anymore. Don’t you think?” They had both moved out as they had gone to college 4 months ago; Zoe in MIT and Charlie in Yale. But they had come back home for the holidays as they missed their family and they couldn’t bare celebrating Christmas apart.

“Kind of. I guess so? I miss living in the same house with you.” Charlie said before Zoe burst out laughing. “What? I’m being serious. We have lived in the same house our whole lives. It’s weird.”

“You know what I don’t miss? The sound of Theo snoring.” She replied.

“His room isn’t next to yours. Or Lana’s messy room. And the two of you fighting all the time.”

“We don’t fight all the time.” Charlie looked at her with a knowing look. “Fine, we do argue.” She admitted. “Now seriously what are we going to do with the tree?”

“I have an idea, but I don’t know how you’ll feel about it.”

“Oh God. What are my ears going to hear?”

“It isn’t that bad. I can lift you up and you can put the star on top.” He suggested.

“Don’t you think I am a bit heavy for your shoulders?”

“I lift Colin all the time. We’ll be fine.”

“What do you do with Colin when you’re on your own? You know what? I don’t need an answer for that.” Zoe said after she thought about it a little bit more.

 “Mum will love the topper. We’ll be over in a minute.”

“That’s what she said.” She grinned as she was waiting to say that phrase.

“Zoe, come on.”

“It was a good one.” She wiped a tear from her eye.

“Not really. Stop laughing and put the damn topper on the tree already.”

Charlie lifted her up and she could reach the top of the tree. “Can you go a bit left?”

“Not unless you want to throw down the entire tree.” He replied as he used his whole strength to continue lifting her up.

“I think I can reach.” She stated as she was ready to put the topper on the top.

But they didn’t notice Annabeth joining them. “Good morning?” she said a bit confused of what her children were doing.

They both got startled and Zoe nearly fell on the ground. “I almost died.”

“I was holding you. Is it steady?” Charlie asked.

“Yes. You can put me down now.” Zoe told her brother as he lowered her to the ground.

“We put the topper of the tree.” Charlie explained to his mum. “Merry Christmas!” He said and hugged her.

“Merry Christmas, mum.” Zoe joined their hug buddle.

“Thank you so much. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble for the topper.” She said admiring their tree.

“We only have one mum. And we were already awake. Consider it as one of your Christmas gifts.” Charlie said.

“I don’t need anything for Christmas. You are all I need.”

“Aww, we’ll see in a few years when you’ll be asking for grandkids.” Zoe warned her.

“I am not going to ask you for grandkids. It’s your lives.”

“We’ll see about that.”

A few more years later

Charlie woke up to his wife stirring in their bed. “Bee?”

“Go back to sleep. I’m fine.” She said and got out of bed holding her lower belly. Charlie knew her well enough to be sure that she was in pain.

He opened his lamp light and got out of bed. “Are you having contractions?”

“It’s 3 am and it’s Christmas. I refuse to have a baby on Christmas.” She said as she went to the bathroom.

“So, you’re having contractions?”

“It’s most likely Braxton kicks.” She said behind the closed door.

“You’re 5 days away from your due date. Maybe he wants to be our Christmas miracle.” Charlie tried to comfort her.

The bathroom door opened wide as Bianca started making her way to the kitchen. “I am going to have a cookie and hot cocoa. I don’t care that it’s late. And if they are in fact contractions, we’ll go to the hospital after.”

“I’m going to make you one so we can drink together.” He suggested as he started warming the milk. Then he remembered something. “Do you remember when we were home from college for Christmas and we had stayed up all night drinking hot chocolate? What movie were we watching?”

“The polar express, of course. Only the best Christmas movie.” Bianca said smiling. “Although, you wanted to watch the Grinch.”

“Still want to.”

“My love, the Grinch isn’t that great of movie.”

“Come on! Don’t betray me like that. It’s an amazing and timeless movie.” He debated as he handed his wife her mug.

“I didn’t say that it isn’t a good movie. It just isn’t the best out there. And the polar express is better?”

“Of course. It’s also Amelia’s favourite Christmas movie.”

“You and your daughter against the rest of us. It’s fine, I still love you.” He said and kissed her softly.

“I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, darling.” Charlie said and got closer to her. She rested her head on his shoulder and he kissed her on the forehead.

But then she winced and sat properly. She closed her eyes as she was in pain. “Do you remember what you said earlier?”

“About the Grinch?”

“About having a Christmas baby?” Bianca asked trying to catch her breath.

“Yeah?”

“I think it’s time for me to go the hospital.” She suggested as Charlie tried to keep his cool.

“Should I call my parents or yours?” He asked as he rinsed their mugs.

“Your parents are staying with the kids. I’ll go get ready. Can you call my parents as well?”

“Whatever you want. Call me if you need anything”

Just a few hours later, Charlie sat on the edge of the bed where Bianca was holding their newborn son. He put his arm around her trying to keep her as close as he could. “We have our Christmas miracle, Bee.”

“It’ll be funny trying to explain to Eliot that his birthday isn’t a national holiday.”

#will solace #heroes of olympus next gen #nico di angelo one shot #nico di angelo headcanon #nico di angelo fanfic #bianca solace di angelo #charlie jackson #will solace headcanon #solangelo #zoe jackson #annabeth chase fanfic #annabeth #christmas 2022

[nancypullen]

Gobble Gobble

Are you ready for Thanksgiving? Does your house smell fabulous or are you packing your stretchy pants to go to dinner elsewhere?  Are you skipping the whole mess and just enjoying an extra day off?  Whatever you may be doing on this third week of November, I hope it’s good for your soul.�� Whether it’s a crowd around the table or a solitary walk through the autumn woods, take a moment to soak it up and be grateful. If you’re struggling on this holiday, maybe just be thankful that this too shall pass.   “The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more impoverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.”   -   H. U. Westermayer I’ve had a bit of a topsy-turvey year and I’m feeling deeply grateful for my family.  My hiccups have been minor compared to what so many others face but, holy cow, has my family shown me love and support.  I’m so humbled by the dear people in my life, my friends and family are absolutely beyond compare.  I have no idea how or why I’m so fortunate, so all I can offer is gratitude.  Mine is bottomless. I’m one lucky duck.

Today I’m preparing sort of a mini-feast.  The Edgewater gang traveled down to Tennessee to spend Thanksgiving with Jamie’s family ( they’ll be here for Christmas!).  Matt flew in from Minneapolis on Saturday and he’s been working a lot from here, Zoom meetings and tapping away day and night. He needs a break.  So since it’s just the three of us, I’m making Ina Garten’s herb-roasted turkey breast rather than a big ol’ bird. It’s a wonderful recipe, tried and true. I’ve also made a couple of family favorites, sweet potato casserole with that yummy pecan and brown sugar topping,  cheesy hash brown casserole, ranch crescent rolls, dressing, and a little apple pie (not gonna lie, the pie is from a bakery). That’s about half of what I’d usually make and it still seems excessive. Tomorrow should be easy though - the turkey breast won’t take long and with just a couple of dishes to pop in the oven it’ll be a breeze.   I’m really going to miss the bacon-wrapped green bean bundles, those are my favorite.  Also the cranberry-orange-walnut relish stuff - I’m not sure it has a name, but I love it.  I couldn’t care less about the casseroles.  Thankfully I still don’t have much of an appetite, so I’ll probably nibble on the turkey and crunch on some celery sticks.   For tonight’s dinner I’ve got teriyaki chicken in the crock pot.  It’s a super simple recipe, I don’t think it’s actually teriyaki - just an easy substitute.  Basically chop up some chicken breasts, throw them in the crock pot with honey, soy sauce, and garlic and wait four hours.  When there’s about 30 minutes left I’ll put some jasmine rice in the rice cooker and let it do its thing.  Add some broccoli and you’re done! Easy peasey.   Since I seem to be rambling about food, here’s some breaking news - we got a new front door!  The original door was kind of pretty, but seemed awfully flimsy.  We never liked it.  We’d shopped around a bit and picked one that we liked, and yesterday was our installation date.  I love it!

I really love that it’s got a keypad entry like our door in Tennessee.  One more thing checked off the long list of improvements we’re making to this place.  That staircase to the right is on the list too.  I’d love to tear up the old (awful) carpet and paint the stairs before installing a runner.  I’d love to sand and stain that wood to more closely match the floors.   Still, it’s a pretty door and I’m loving it.  It’s white right now, but I’ll paint the exterior side.  The color I’ve chosen is City Rain.  It’ll match the shutters.

I thought long and hard about picking a pale pink shade, but I went with a color that will look good in every season.  That shade of gray will look just as good with autumn’s orange and gold as it will with bright red at Christmas or pink blooms in the summer.   Gotta’ go with what works. Speaking of Christmas, I picked up the cutest bit of wall art this week.  How jolly is this guy?

He was on clearance at Kirkland’s and I had a coupon for an extra 20% off.  He came home with me for about $28. When the tree goes up and we deck the halls, he’ll hang above that entry table by the door.   Yep, I’m gettin’ my jingle on and Santa is my homeboy.  We go way back (North Pole High School, Class of ‘81!).

That small, blurry person in the candy cane striped scarf is moi - cheering my heart out for North Pole High School in North Pole, Alaska.  I had to dig to find a color photo (how sad is that?).  The lovely girl beside me is Tracey, still every bit as cute and now a long-distance Facebook friend. I couldn’t find a photo that clearly displayed the big “NP” on our sweaters, One year we just had “Patriots”  (our high school was built in 1976).

I’m sharing these semi-embarrassing photos to prove that my Christmas spirit runs deep.  We used to answer letters to Santa as part of our English grade.  Letters from all over the world made their way to Santa’s house in North Pole - yes, it’s really there.  I went to school with Santa’s daughter and her name was (no kidding) Merry Christmas Miller.  She eventually married and became Merry Key, I think.  Not quite the same impact.  Anyway, we’d answer letters for a grade.  There was a format that we had to follow, couldn’t make promises and that sort of thing.  But it sure kept the magic alive for a bunch of teenagers.  All of these decades later (oh my gosh, 41 years??) I get the same sense of excitement when I start seeing twinkling lights on houses and Christmas tree lots.  I am so ready for holiday music, cookies, and FUN!  I’ve got all of the grandgirl’s gifts and I can’t wait for her to open them!  Once an elf from North Pole, always an elf from North Pole. This post has ping-ponged from Thanksgiving food to a new door to high school memories and Christmas.  Perfectly normal, right?  I should probably quit while I’m ahead.  It’s nearly time to dish up that crock pot chicken anyway.  I’ll sign off with a big holiday hug, and send out my sincere wish that your hearts are light and your minds are at peace.  I’m grateful for so much this year, and some of the lovely people I’ve met through this blog are on that list.  Thanks for stopping by. Stay safe, stay well, stay thankful.

Nancy

[libidomechanica]

To Heavns, how of dead many a curbside bower

A sonnet sequence

               I

Rage, rage asswage; nature’s not proves Tribes in. And, dark wood, as from flesh and sensuall evening withstand. Betray? Whose exterous cheeks my sunder-taken Men, if she love; to you for thee, find so high, where Crime in. To Heav’ns, how of dead many a curbside bower? A mighty, nodding-cake: for Vice, O beauty to all. Belovëd, when I know dark days an angel, sip thy jasmines, all but your fate first Onset, sweet Silvia in a parcells me still unexcavate Crimes. And who would be able in piteous as twas the splendent shall decay! I am old, so piercing lies, dry and wave?

               II

Upon your Piety, you my mountains, oft air such odour thine own breather bard: if not euill to God, then the aisled play, for Parents of Earn, and wine, or mocking like a new not a Slaves, and buzz’d his Principle. Nay chiding space, so argumentary Sweet the proclaim, and minute women contemplatest melon, by the day I disown yon her grand-dames, with you are as from his daddie’s won’t say-masters but is driven bloodless woods. Have with reconciled; a dead I cannot boredom. That was thou gave Consequence: that tomb, to form’d the green breaths whit distant mouth that yours betray?

               III

And Self-defence. Thou must make thence with wares art, For thy face; and willing on the sky spot infecting Jews, which was holy chosen bishop stay her Kindred what Majestie common the virginia or he want of her Faction grieved into a Flood: unfortune step of all mov’d trick, weak to thee speak to pleasant fruit, and tender to me.—His fathers held in our ends he rode him deepest mouth, by night. How Vlster of the shown, chid her, older look so. Nor she sage, as thou in desert the Strand; in Peace which flies dipt in his own to give all, dried gray was them, night? As thought of other Ground to spring?

               IV

Officers hungry speech, Lovers, easily: Once open my heart feeling: she, Blythe, blythe alone, and down from side, or compare than Life to claim’d hiss of this my lovers of thing—too fair, there God-like, dear life indangerous time whence he way towers and Death, tho his Treasure, over-loving; or, for him whose heart of Pow’r is torn, whom myself so warm; my pass you, already stolen lips can sin and merry was stuck into a sudden glow: sorrow out of Loyalty kick. For such Diana comes of my soules; come bold search wit and the virgin- troop of thy God’s undespoke: so will spouse?

               V

With moderate in his Soul mountains; he mighty cost, the midst forsook, the tape- recorder yet to look’d assays, alas, if Hope, turning starry Pole: from young and the Column, let his wish, or fear off from the talk to undertake, Centuries for I must, with eyelid and I slept; and what Wonder! Like sometimes that from heare pray that the mould did so beareth them round hiss of Belial Name thyrsus, thou wert, I saw, I misse. Cupid story, when looked all the Court, and grass, does to that my face; and all answer’d by the led fruit thou shine at the gave the sighs, But we, but the tide the name anear.

               VI

So Beautiful a summon Sense, had raise, not a blight, and how pearl. She disarm’d. And this you canst see what youth, quickly back the pitied best, still I thus on many guests they still the eyes of air, nor puft with my eyes we practice draws near ease, doth cold full of powerful Engines my woman look of the People all, she said he give my hands to commends of the too, falling sun; and my poore no name of Cælestial sweetnesses o’r, and meerely? And thus, wonderous proclaim her this, which too covetous of every grave, was he known had felt, what white, the earth an unregarded, the you.

               VII

In all theater rope. Or wanton is nothing—come, conquestions will be kind: so the Crown’d Arab’s lie, behold his Jewish because I lay. I love bad, and fine, to be since for your Native me far said he the day, the wine: our houses against me no Crime. Th’ Egypt and his brandsires’ honey Lip. For true, he’s drew hushed sort, delude their Princes crowded me. And two: she floor often urg’d; and I, was with Cary Grace, and thus between the bed to me—come one will quick was, she foul without a worth, my Power, false fire spurn’d, inclin’d earth’s monarch, thy Mind; to pleasures who possess to the seem strongly power summer’s glade of wealth answer’d Camelot. Other’s flower enjoy. Suns of wrinkle or over heare your tower’d, and the shrank, made of a noise of grave, ere tenderstand; but someone earth, and thou once Divine! Her share of one they Petitions find thee page, a palace.

               VIII

And thou in desire? For Justly glorious dyes, and said many nymphs that while where arm’d. White their Belial Nation. And the too, such your eyes I must as then sport to choose, the roses are of thy mouth, for her he wards brief, thought, I cast love. Knowing done! Come slowly, they mighty Subjects breast, to Patch the precedent mischeivously green sours ere their King, the tear, now is bed to the field nothings, estra warm land, they all my Delia, on white: the Statesman with Esop cross a cry. Our words, bespeak of useless Eremity; but given me closed attends and taen the enough I bring me.

               IX

And each other too longer blessing other, lord, I lovelines, all raiment and this, the by silent night moony, in it on a visions from thy bodhisattva of sight; they find your strewn floated praise its blush which he contend no others are of his pernition of Fate Propitious play, and this fate, and makes limbs the Diadem he shirt since aside with you now, where Crimes. Blythe and more to set thy kindled, conquering that time thinke of Corinth harder yet doubt and Death to the Crowd: for shall grac’d his glade of what she street, the Dignition—who talke; how far of thine, to my though my free they did weathes head philosophy will afford; resolve on may Give all his own and Buttress in my fair was blithe awake up in snow pine, thereon witness, and religion, or they require; the Ballance—than we rain of palmes oft as I! Amid the Pillar, and heavenly five.

               X

Before, my little joy concrete he to warm; my fingers in formless to the morning Power, thee, only this dazzling reside it was hang in heart, and very from her Wiles he show’d to their lovely-headed with that I have our tempt Salámán, and Laws are torchest, while, to burning into love. See, and thistle a little blade. On a vision, and the whole of whose eyes, all the season of Indian wares could brings were thoughter side watchful Friends, to weepe; sincers in disgrace: with your and girl who’s always pleasure praise. By the reaping brilliant so far behind the date; or then the day.

               XI

Wherein her brother is the way she thing worthy face a Churchyard yew a blood, the Way; why not carefull Arts, and, ladies with her slim hand, as wherein the low unto thee made they fled with in thine so fondly she a Thomas, or day. Turning David, for a Calm unfit would love ask’d the mair moving, or so did Zimri stand, their names by the shore. It is to entering King trust and all my legions of dogs, the each trifles all have a new thou upon his pleasant gloom and we have we, but burning Spiritual food helpless Lump, like a will, I dare now, with our Good desire?

               XII

Above the Noble not Factious dead and bless closed and praise thy hair. And beareth the days shot too softer, could devise some listence it see, that recesses o’r, and knelt be, should blows in the table dregs of a mailen! Or forth flow its wreathes and tiptoe, faithful Chloe; till divert my father carry nightingale, than promiscuous cheat an Appendix of many? Was his Bride of commit a pleasant Orange to share they loss, and thine. The does to Depose: the fiesta of meerely unto the bittering—doubts, softer, which flies, who from heaven, aspens its brighteous Kind?

               XIII

Wild mens Vision, sometimes. I kiss, I shure wi’ him. Brand shuttled over Fortunately weel he commends: that man sounds fading in thy eternally. Glory the sophist’s sing; and marked he; no softer, could bring of yet not so much. And, by the better fancy to Arbitrary Sway? Resting that the did not when may be took my was their Power, and Prophet Spoke: some familiar grace, nor their own desease the bales o’er the seruants well and in distinction of Salt I heart theirs’ the desires her live, to wish Market girls of life, that voice, lute him, up, clos’d-vp sense do to Camelot.

         ��     XIV

And the Priests well cover. But, if I did lacked but the Triple Bonds of words have I see. Saw him King, noon, the but hospitables, euen sours of Phoebus, in sures Elders and mine eye doth transaction, and early morning thy gay the Height, those our touches, and a sin; what we watch and melted daft his laid by, whilst hems breaths; and looke Stellas eye, kissing with more love you for truest by her quick was, knowing the giddy Jewes, while they never thighs, be observant of loue and Tenants tonightingale, dreary this cooling morne your Filial hath pretious ills I’ve heart-inflaming Friends.

               XV

And which in tune, he memory on me sweet pride flat fields among to joyn: thy stormy early Promise of they storm’s strife, search wit, from they counters Father Cheek, and entire and Lamia break, and broken bower, from mirth indiffering barge, such as think of did not of you’d suspect which I shall keep fortunately weel he few. To me, and hurting powers we may, we watery with such, whose ugly to the God-like becomes free the moon to Cheat ascend, never bugle’s care the said shining boding over trod the stood in the want of her on me wine, and my lips daiquiri. He talk too much, is foot, work me now with it grew him, whom thought run down follows longer. She ends came dear with my soul has like little he islander’d marked him as at child crack’d with ever not, by hear on you left they stand. When I’m with iniurie: what Barbican. Secure off from ill decay!

               XVI

A lawfull on a dull a child, and in her forgo? For, Maud hath make; mine impious Weed, and Love in Glenturies he confess all sponge the promiscuous crooked at last more, counting consummate to love; to pay by native devil be; the right wait. The Godheads Image in that whittle mair believes in the other rites; who now you my only know. Two of us in thy Hellen his; nor Interest, than that the Disease. In pure, for my lip, eye, with are never turn’d the ground Patriot when the brazen ground I rose? Yon clouds and fold me over head: sharpen’d why, ador’d with what words had but with our walking, my darling, for shall myself the Pelicate women could for long like a duty, Grace: let eyes thro’ the sank supine to sport and in reason guide, and line and over her dreamed best. Yet, alas, nor peer notice draw? Cold age in Grace grass and, that their Reason Law.

               XVII

Ow said she cccome? Of stars ’light, some inters and new porring is evening. Sweetheart by balms and thought—meet, it with did somethink of thou more the citied Youth refused streaming Gide, and I, that yours; o that lips of their Liberty? My parent weight, want on their duty to Imperiall still the mighty Mind. Imparts of chess with thee do lie, but their People tree side there; I find, for all myself a Fools, and they content, to more here-spent and their her faire Daphnes crooked, play not euill the words and do is eloquence. Now, now a hand he beleeued. As he had draw my girls are, love couldn’t make me.

               XVIII

Of the airy colours late and nighting girl, to swim naked, and they fingers to that dark veins; he make David drank—Young distant mouth, by ruining I did I never and oft as an error often in their fancy-fit him—and you, with eye or coffee ought drop. I should do it to thing to rises are we seem together honest David did other hand,—why, thou but from human kind; and most in threat Juno goes righter’s flow it seem’d as thou art the from his sae presence so true; her needs on me, and we musk rose, to leave all mystery wit, still on sin again, its at thee.

               XIX

In Court, the table and joins may stain, arriving too hot to you could raise refers though themselves in tree and said wouldn’t sleep; there to sometimes pace and buddhist my name. Where to the hid in Trust, is—Lovely-head bee; what when in atonement though the sufficient Fabrick. And see a glorious ills— a birds, some of you leapt above your selfe to short like in thoughts of sweetest grove the might be Pawn’d, as born Israel for all in— all rate; turned, in the ear. I was call is such a date: born and like some let us now she mean Despair did she shriek’d; and those Salt I have you, she gloom of for this torn.

               XX

Chiefs treasure: but with oyle which, thy gift of my love you, wit-beating out in thee their love, disdaine to the miserie, a Father smells sweet Water smells sweet breast orchis very from Cockle, to spare, my life said; but if, my soul, thou, the two, not stars shall beyond, a garden of the bird hung overpass wink; and thou every in the grave, just to lisping bee, or Geordie on Death their Father’s double dreamboats? Oh might the Throne, the mothers and fed with my scent, that isle imbower, thou may’st thus torn. This Peace to utter of the women if her fate. Yet love, that eternal loving; ah!

               XXI

In themselves; hard the south, who more sat a marriage scholler heart which to his Heirs follows our might and hills. On your first Return. If French calm pervades no more grief, by whom Just what Love as between your arms. Her hair, nor might employ, without a surface, scarcely wed; gainst the silent that the feeblest, remember hope no kindling alien to the string, and worse awhile I wanton and so high-built me cried—and your Reign? He was the bay where!—If everything’s at our day, in tree turning die, a Forgive me, he’s made of a surface, mud. In Peacefull Maisters the bridge for all thy God’s end?

               XXII

I take then, and looked at which in the day. And say I did green-sheather of that dances, other Errors but fills when firm, when thought the end of thy balms of dream; yet doun; she’s loved—the natural height, and hang on the virtue of holesome, and Form of all makes limbs their Power, thus much more sat alwaies from therefore. She value of amendment, and more that blush which beats so heard her French perfumed by this came from Grimm seeping. If those by unequal and mens Decree; she coward she shall I content to flies grievous time’s a crust. And fling to weltring you find of a noble Youth; and some Names.

               XXIII

That you’ve stones left Defensless, their slaves, and Dark, and to fine perhaps and float, below my heart, I shall graceful was by Prince in happy plan, have thou would never bow, and myself in your from Greece and spiced beach me, that she cccome? But the Clouds too late: below the earth, when he midst rear’d with refuse? And subtle to catches have I pray may err as growing thee call’d the thou with sudden will I saw my hand all in pursued this street, remember shook that Salámán nothing in thy looks unwritten a shroud, that royally me so Headstrong worthy Vapours later a sacred Lies, then shall soar.

               XXIV

Should haue I thou mayst be bells my skin, the Spring: faith lifting his caract, and saw my girls as tween the Scotch Court be gay, you require into the churchyard shave large, least shoots will loved on the El’er’s dust and their powerful raiment a heat. Shall Rest, that feeling, and gone to be, that Preferee. Counting scandal of human so frames, the whom, shut our byast Natures bright long a city of those brow; but him—no pul’d to me, the Judgment in Exreams: so fond window over Ceases tread, turning, my Flocke, and Tyrus in her therefore foreign field nothings are you leapèd and goblets, and revelry grew so great: it is might the deep of you just abhor, spare, like Vision—all was found; woman braes o’r, and my Mother heard on the bridle glides, inherit knowledge his words soere steal to pitied before that like becomes! While the other off from flesh. And a numerous warm stove-wind was nurse.

               XXV

Each dragg’d downe, saw the mind, I pluck the hours better Civil, the too much the Plot, who pul’d to ride with his Greatnesse my Ladies and keen resum’d, and not. Each day by his face a Churchyard lies lit with a childish pushed apes, and felt she did not all the old Jerusalem were grief, by our Eden lips my care he midst thou in companions may comfort to choose, till Viper-like a cool again atoms on his Master, could government throughout, mine—unweaves on a nights and made lamenesse me, the branches I feel their Head to the worse from stain, and, from my Plot beware one Suffering year!

               XXVI

From meet at thy should not helplessed Lady of tune this debt to sails is I cannot bind, conceal’d the rise from the holy in fall. The maker, there wise as bring; other grave me, he’s my loud, sure praise along by step, they brother Israel! Thought, as the time, which for Rebell, go and threat’ning youth, quickly know. Bid Lov’d, not renewed, save one of wondred you but gie me my years its death, or fruit. He answers with eye or fathers’ beds’ reveale. In Corah mighty beauty’s orient Honour, Thee have sworn and nuptial face; her side. I never turn the your mantle and not such Vertues Foes?

               XXVII

The hills, for him his stone hungry spring? But of Manhoods prophets rise. Ask me no soft blushing from them one of later he wanton burden wall the crowded mirror’d with a cheek! Or other gives give a regatta of laws, and clear blanked weaken’d here. Fate, hate of sweetest her speech the lay upon his liues to hang thy loved, cold, thy soul is dead of lovely and fragrants succession rounded thinks I see through those which dost words, but and black by him. Or moving, either’d jealous grown of this is twas Nature Truth. And merry ripe them a troubadour in my pet-name! And scatt’ring holiday.

               XXVIII

Where is in New York and he found in His graves false is mother Monarchs for still, not wait on me shall comes! You run the same the gaze of her false fire with due place thee! To ply him. Youth, and what Barbican. Our hand run Popularly more. The went the mother, thou art, wide eyes. Saying ill. Charlie, he’s best scented liberate: some golden face thocht na lang their stupefying wants to speak contemn; but, palenesses of the years be, as one the skies, and in infinite nothing lemonade and downward, when I ask’d the Faiths Defensless, voice. Would crying heauens should have you but day I e’er be.

               XXIX

She happy planet, nor doe, but the Day, my heart on yr name, whom mine or smiles, and of their deeper crown’s deflower, better of our only born against him—and I willow’d, who scorners on the lassie, dishone you like where to sport her side you could burning beside, nad Yoak a Servant found so hard thine at Heav’nly fix the Madness made the vale; and chained pains of art morn! I hear how the other death: and pledge of all the Courts betray’d in they be infernal Good make the People list in longest hoord, by creep them suffer, thou art not to come night. Like a bonie lass of life a man loves!

               XXX

Move said she what thou counsels glad Lycius thou movement I am half thou gild’st fright run at, we can make the wild and make hand, its had skill time to look a spotless your employ, which when she lovers issue boathead with a winter’s play: a charact, and all other’d not forth ever Resolute unstruments the State: root pitying state, so danger’d with our off, with echoing her quick to glance loue? Her place of Dulness, to the lass made the way, to him: Friends desire. Till in the began thousand lisp thy worldly perfit color is, and says she said Lamia’s teeming to win their Chief.

               XXXI

But speaking beyond, althought, can in her good nature’s ripe them with a bath all their old acquaintance, with diminsh’d and breeding so live and fed with painting naked in her forgive away his Evidence. The bed to my eyes. The name skimming Past, thousand by the banks of the sober part feeling a filthy storm’s standard keeps she cost, for Vice, Oppress’d with breath’d deathbed desire my Paternal line periwinkled civilization can read. You sleep, do to that sweet them one, cut of a help believe mere thou are as from the tears herse to her home into the stood at blush’d her head.

               XXXII

Who stand, the Future like little Loves his frugal care, love nor them with sleep! Meet, if Band of men beares, or plunge in every Jewes, while through their short is in that soft as midnight away! The you with point could not require, and my hands over then she died, twelve stand. I with the with myrrh and Stephen ground against the kind; and she like the stool-ball, whose dawn at their scorne a dangled stretched you moves the this lute mid the floor often the anchor weeps its are slendentures fortifie your soul from there is the stand drinking mans be as the portal charity the patient Manly Fortune roll.

               XXXIII

In self but a Slave our body and very wine aged year, to his much, after and from short besidences crowns once me with demand of men Aspire to find softest me summer’s reign is not ask our peace took on a day. Because they did then Betray, or clothe tear: those and with your face, are severence, that died. It see beauty to draw? What wonder a rain of a least Court, and form and reach letting puclick Safety pray you at large, and girl’s bloudie pains, of sighing all were fretted to me. I am and whiskey, on the ensigns of Thunder whether hope to false as to be Out-done.

               XXXIV

Up, a ruin: side: they Command, throughout all the laws, and I am sad a rabbit’s fade. Part alone, for Women, puzzled beyond calm kiss me with where themselves—and tender to approve over turn’d the lique Good, as they willow boathead she said she means to pay; and ever yet how; for heaven snaw, twa drifted he; no such devise. He spoak: few words the sun state; but, proceeding goes leapèd and with secret her equal and will, I will beguilde; if the hills my darling, take place; let Virtue speak of their God towns on my poor but vow’d by hear your ugly empty of cool, which heavnly Just.

               XXXV

Across knife, that is passing, the lightfall adorn’d, in pursue with what am debate true misse, who leaves the steaming, I promis’d Land, of surely unto traffic. She wind roundless force himself of wound, the liar— roughts tonight: as he world him his winding autumn, let Scorn sense buried its swell. He love by, crying flames over wooed, and little the empty their Diseases, alien to serv’d to salute mid the sea and feelings the grass, does to hurting. But one Sheaf did not hush awhile faire lay; I put my fathom who give and on her texture; she but sure you canst, and soules, euen soun’.

               XXXVI

To which gaping beyond it quite: but that— plot of tune, but Lofty to cloaks of their wings, at Rome, I only pace of time to his dazzling naked of lovely she, Blythe iawes as he high, faire dazled me a’ my where refers to buy. In my Force from far more accessions live with flowing construck a maiden hath fills tells my Juliana came: sometimes; the never bower? Of song them in her hairst, which I left brings an eye, with Descent beneath think about my fair such Magistracted, lyrical, while the Throng’d the fight, yet some and driven hath sovereign eyes, here streaming Chevalier.

               XXXVII

Make, knowing cheek when you, I neglect thy free; she meadows like some in an eye, easy lips were be Chief he crown’d to Saul this fond bounting Tyrians knee, or Geordie on mankincense do there than Loyalty? Have longer breath one come by my feel with due rest; then a marriage bride-cakes me nor no Grace: not when those to lodge till Cherry ripening Eyes heart of his he room me away, my brother chast as thick jaws, that from world’s bloody so chamber of all theater hair was all God’s paws, upon my blisse, the sea and State; the presence been on my breast, on and Tyrant splendous to their own.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 5 #161 texts #sonnet sequence

[meanderful]

Singapore Stint

City Life

It turned out that Singapore was an excellent transition point between Indonesia and the UK—upon taking a taxi from the airport to our hotel, Sam and I marvelled at the clean, modern cars driving along in an orderly fashion on the smooth, wide roads; but though Singapore lacked the chaos of Indonesia, it was still warm and humid.

Sam had found us a hotel within a mall, which gave us quite the Singapore experience. our room was on the 8th floor and overlooked a park and a large highrise, but the hotel entrance was inside the mall itself, so we made our way through a maze of escalators and past flashing billboards and glassy shops to get to our room. There was even several vast climbing walls stretching up through the middle of the mall.

Upon arriving, Sam headed out to meet Seth, our longtime friend from uni who moved out to Singapore a few months ago with his wife, Helen. The two of them went out for dinner with Seth’s colleagues to a hawker’s market. Singapore, with its love of being neat and ordered, has done away with the typical Asian street food vendors. They’re now all regulated and so ply their trade in what can only be described as something resembling an old London market full of food stalls that host cuisines from all the different nationalities that call Singapore home. The food was apparently both very tasty and cheap!

Our last few days away zipped past. We spent a couple of days exploring the city either via foot or using the MRT (Singapore’s metro system). Athough I’m not a massive fan of cities and I missed the chaos and energy of Indonesia, Singapore turned out to be really interesting. It was a glassy modern place, loaded with interestingly shaped highrises. We walked along the waterfront to see the famous lion statue spouting water and the iconic Marina Bay Sands, a hotel that consisted of three highrises with a vast boat-shaped structure balanced across them, covered in trees to make a kind of floating sky garden.

Photos Above: an example of a highrise with Singapore's signature sky gardens; the two of us in front of the Singapore lion; the Marina Bay Sands hotel

The city state is home to 5.4 million people, of whom 4 million are permanent residents. Though the official instructional language is English, the permanent residents are majoratively ethnically Chinese, Malay, and Indian and this multiculturalism was really evident—besides people speaking “Singlish” (a lovely, merged version of English), it also has distinct cultural hubs, so we made sure to visit Little India, Arab Street, and Chinatown.

Little India had some of the chaotic feeling that we missed from Indonesia, consisting of a maze of roadside shops touting everything from clothes through to phone repairs and a sumptuous array of Indian food. We wandered through the streets and sampled fantastic South Indian food, then drifted down Ara street to walk around the walls of the Sultan’s Mosque, with its vast golden dome.

Photo Above: the Sultan's Mosque near Arab Street

We found that Chinatown was extra decorated as we were visiting so soon after the Lunar New Year. We visited the Buddhist Temple, which welcomed tourists in besides worshippers. It spanned across several floors, with amazing golden statues and statuettes on each floor. On the top floor, the entire ceiling was hung with beautiful golden lanterns, making for a spectacular view for meditators to take in.

Photos Above: Chinatown decorations; inside the Buddhist temple; its roofs from the outside

We also visited a Chinese tea house with Helen and Seth, sharing a pot of jasmine tea the traditional way (which involves a complicated process of pouring tea from one teapot to another, then into one tiny vessel for sniffing, until finally it is poured into a miniscule teacup, from which you can take about three sips before starting the whole process again). Especially considering I’m not a fan of tea, it was absolutely delicious.

It was wonderful to spend time with Seth and Helen. Besides spending the majority of Sunday together, moving from Chinese tearoom to restaurant to coffee shop, we also visited them in their flat for a takeaway evening. And then while Sam and Seth went out for drinks another night, the Helens hung out (and honestly, we chatted nonstop for a solid four hours about all manner of things, but especially our love of BOOKS and reading and fiction and generally everything that’s amazing about stories).

Photos Above: Seth and Sam out for drinks; the four of us in a beautiful and far too fancy coffee shop

A Tropical Respite

As I struggle being in cities, Sam had very graciously let me plan a long day out to the Gardens by the Bay, a large garden park right on the water. The gardens felt very reflective of Singapore—a merging of traditional park and modern technology. We began amid the Supertrees, 12 iconic structures that harvest solar energy for the park and are covered in literally hundreds of thousands of plants. We took a lift up the inside “trunk” of the tallest of them (which is apparently the height of a 16-storey building) to an observation deck to look out at the view across the city. I noticed several workers held in place with climbing harnesses on the spindly “branch” structures to do some painting work and felt a swoop of vertigo.

Photos Above: me gazing up at the largest of the Supertrees; the view from the observation deck at the Marina bay Sands hotel with its boat structure and the workmen tethered to the "branches"

We also wandered along a kind of boardwalk curved between several of the Supertrees to get a wider view across the city and the Supertree themselves.

Photos Above: peeking through the "branches"; across the grove of Supertrees; wandering along the walkway

The park has three conservatory-domes. The Cloud Forest dome was the largest of the three, a huge, curved structure containing a “mountain” inside it. This mountain had a long waterfall cascading down its side and was covered in plants. We took a lift up the middle of the mountain and then slowly climbed down it via a walkway and found that the plants at the top were from cooler climes while those at the bottom mirrored the flora of a tropical rainforest. There was also an Avatar experience within the conservatory, which meant that there were several sculptures depicting creatures from the blockbuster film dotted amid the borders and a couple of gimmicky technological games to take part in—we weren’t so fussed by this aspect of it. This aside, I especially loved this dome, given my fascination with tropical plants. Sam captured my childlike wonder in a series of photos that I have artistically and not at all tongue-in-cheeked named: “Helen Gazes at Plants”.

Photos Above: the cloud forest waterfall; a view from the other side of the cloud forest "mountain"; walking along the dome's boardwalk with a view of the city through the glass; together at the top of the "mountain"; inside the waterfall

Photos Above: Helen Gazes at Plants (Part I: Cloud Forest)

The second conservatory was called the Flower Dome. We were less impressed with this one—though the succulent, Mediterranean, and Baobab sections were really cool, it was less spectacular and the piece de resistance was an incredible tacky, plasticky display set up for the Lunar New Year that seemed to be the draw for most other visitors.

Photos Above: Helen Gazes at Plants (Part II: Flower Dome)

Finally, we wandered through Floral Fantasy. This conservatory was almost like an art installation, with creative displays made of both living plants and dried flowers making for an explosion of colour. There was also a large glassy display case, which we realised, when we peered closer, housed a number of Poison Dart Frogs from the Amazon, coloured black with vivid blots of either bright blue, yellow, or green.

Photos Above: Helen Gazes at Plants (and Frogs) (Part III: Floral Fantasy)

Home Sweet Home

All too soon, our visit rolled by. Before my brain had really grasped what was going on, we were packing up, moving through the airport, boarding the plane home. Fourteen hours later, and exactly four months and one day after we left British soil, we landed in London to be greeted with a hug from my dad.

Of course, it was bloody freezing, but impressively the sun was out to help make the transition back just that little bit easier.

Thank you for coming along on this journey with us—the last few months have been such incredible, transformative experience for us and though we’re sure it’ll take some adjusting being back in the UK, we’re also really excited to begin setting up our new home together in Bristol.

And so with that, it’s time to say, for this trip at least… that’s all folks!

[songbirds-sweet]

Sorry for not responding the last couple of days.. I've been super busy trying to get last minute things ready. How is Christmas in 7 days??! But also I really need it to be here already so I can just sit and relax at long last. I'm only working 3 days this week and I'm so looking forward to having a break. Will you work right up until the 25th?

The Hip are definitely our Canadian band and will be forever missed.

Yeah I don't think the Gary Cherone era of Van Halen is widely remembered or thought of fondly by fans lol

I'll certainly be doing the secret santa next year. It's such a great idea.

Ok I'm in love with Jasmine 😍 How precious is she?? I just want to smoosh her face and give her ear scratches! Have you always had a dog?

Davey Havok you say 🤔 I don't know much about AFI but a girl can just search Pinterest for different reasons right?

Oh how fun. It would have been awesome if you got to meet them. Maybe next time 🤞

Pearl Jam was a band that was always in my life but I was only a casual listener until about 3 yrs ago. I starting watching old concerts and interviews on YT and quickly became obsessed with them. Then I had to buy all their newer albums as I only had the first few ones.

Ooh Pad Thai is delicious. Comfort dessert? I love cheesecake but also cream puffs and then there's also lava cake 😋 I may indulge too much over the holidays with sweets but that's what it's about. What about you? If you could only have one dessert for the end of time, what would you pick?

Also some of my mutuals posted some cute pics of your Greta boys playing laser tag the other day. Omg how fun are those guys? I love when bands don't take themselves to seriously.

My goal today is finally get my tree up.. I've been putting this off all week. You're more than welcome to pop on down and help 😌

Can I tempt you with Eggnog and Fruitcake? Though I don't eat Fruitcake people insist on bringing it. Do you like it? I don't mind the flavours of it but I'm not a fan of dried fruit.

🤶

And I am so sorry for not responding omg, I've been a mess the last couple days 🙃 I work until Friday and then I'm off for a while!!!

100% about The Hip

Yeah I'm probably gonna ignore that VH era 😂

I love Jasmine so much!! She's my first dog and I got her when she was a puppy almost 6 years ago!

Idk much about the band either, Jonno just really loves Davey 😅 Ah I do the same on Pinterest (I did that when I first got into GVF)

Ahhhh very nice!!! I honestly need more PJ CD's, I have an original copy of Ten from 1991!

YUM those are soooo good, I mean in the summer it's Cookie Dough ice cream but any holiday it's apple pie and also during Christmas it's Nanaimo Bars!! Honestly, any of those three I would choose I can't decide!! Do you have a favourite fruit?

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH (and yes I'm still going insane over Danny playing laser tag!) They are such fun guys and once we become mutuals I can try and help you choose your favourite member 👀

Oh man I'd help you put it up for sure!!!

Okay don't yell at me, I ever had either one BUT I've always loved gingerbread and sugar cookies during the holidays, in fact the other day I tried a Sugar Cookie Oat Latte at Starbucks and it was good! Do you like gingerbread and sugar cookies? Have you ever built a gingerbread house?

#SRS22 #🤶🏻

[loverofallthingssmart]

wtfwhy dont i evers send you asks. anywaysydid you know wthat we have rosesthat lookEXACTLY like the ones in yourr header at hmy house. ltierally theyr look JUST lik your header . prettier ifyou wouldgo there.

sdfghhgfd yeah sunny why dont you ever send me asks omg....

also OMG?? THATS SO COOL :00000 i love the roses at your house our roses are in the backyard and theyre like dead.....

#no one gardens except my father and he has his little vegetable patch to run so #so far weve had like 12 veggies come out of there idk how he even does it like wtf.... #he makes me pick out the weeds from our spinach plot and i like.. cry its soooooooo long to do im so. #anyway yes. roses. i would like to see it...... also ily #the roses in my header are sooooooooooo pretty like imagine having prettier ones i would treasure them #we had jasmines in our old house i miss them #these tags are a mess. #</3 shut the fuck up eesha im begging #ask me anything #sunny side up tag

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Texts from The Lost Tomb, part 2

Quick side note—I love the smell of jasmine and I was lighting a candle when I realized oh I have a terrible idea, must write it down:D

Zhang and Wu Chat, 9:12am

Zhang Qiling: There is something for you on the table.

Wu Xie: ?

Zhang Qiling: There is something for you on the table.

Wu Xie: No no I read it just fine

I’m just a little confused, Wang Meng usually leaves mail in the office. Oh well, maybe he’s taking more initiative. A terrifying thought. Thanks for letting me know!

Zhang Qiling: *speech bubbles appearing and disappearing*

Main Chat, 9:15am

Wu Xie: okay guys not to panic anyone after the creepy letter thing but

Wang Pangzi: WHAT

Zhang Qiling: For once, I agree with the capitalization. Are you alright?

Wu Xie: I think someone got into our house, they left me something

Wang Pangzi: !!!!!

Zhang Qiling: I’m coming down from the roof now, I will meet you in the kitchen and take you to the safe house. Don’t move.

Wang Pangzi: SHITSHITSHITSHIT HANG ON IM CALLING EVERYONE LIVING DEAD AND OTHERWISE TO GET ON THIS. WE ARE MOVING HOME BASE TO ZURICH AND CHANGING OUR NAMES IDGAF

Wu Xie: it’s odd though…they left a definite death threat before but now a bouquet of jasmine flowers? With a Pablo Neruda poem attached, which kind of seems like the opposite of threatening??

Wang Pangzi: WHAT.

Zhang Qiling: You are not in danger.

Wang Pangzi: OH MY GOD AHAHAHAHA BRB IM TEXTING HEI XIAZI

Wu Xie: I mean I agree, this doesn’t seem dangerous, but is something going on that you two know about and I don’t?

Wang Pangzi: PABLO NERUDA IM CRYING XIAO GE WHY IM PISSING MYSELF

Zhang Qiling: It’s all fine. Ignore Pangzi. I’ll come in anyway to get rid of the flowers. It must have been a mistake.

Wu Xie: Oh, that’s sad. Someone didn’t get their flowers:(

Wang Pangzi: ARE YOU FUC—

Wu Xie: Even so, do you think it would be okay to keep them?

Zhang Qiling: …do you like them?

Wu Xie: I mean I’ll still call the florist and let them know, but what are the chances one of my favorite floral scents and one of my favorite poets somehow get delivered here? It’s practically fate:)

Wang Pangzi: SURE SEEMS THAT WAY HUH MAYBE YOU SHOULD THINK A LITTLE HARDER ABOUT THIS WITH THAT GENIUS IDIOT BRAIN SO I CAN FINALLY GET A BREAK

Zhang Qiling: If you like the gift, you are meant to keep it.

Babysitters Club Chat, 9:30am

Wang Pangzi: YOU. FUCKING. CHICKEN. YOUR QILIN CARD HAS BEEN REVOKED.

Zhang Qiling: I don’t understand what you are talking about. I am turning off my phone and going back to the roof to keep watch. Please stop talking about this in the main chat.

Wang Pangzi: OHH NO NO NO YOU ARE NOT GETTING AWAY WITH THIS, LITTLE BLACK RIDING HOOD.

YOU SENT HIM FLOWERS. WITH A POEM. PABLO. FUCKING. NERUDA. YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BE SMOOTHER THAN THE GREAT PANGZI AND THEN RUN AWAY JUST BECAUSE OUR IDIOT IS BEING HIS IDIOT SELF. EXPLAIN.

Zhang Qiling: Fine. After I lost my memory, Wu Xie let me read his old journals to try to jog some memories, or at least give me recent context for my life. I saw the date of the entry where he wrote that he met me for the first time, outside his uncle’s house. I rescued him from a mugging, not that I remember it. Today is that date. Satisfied?

Wang Pangzi: IM TORN BETWEEN LAUGHING AND CRYING AND HOPPING UP ON THE ROOF TO HOLD YOU. XIAO GE, YOU ROMANTIC. AN ANNIVERSARY PRESENT????????

Zhang Qiling: Say nothing. It was a foolish desire I had, to show him how much—

It doesn’t matter.

And do not come up to the roof, you will fall.

Wang Pangzi: FOOLISH MY GORGEOUS ASS

IM DONE DUCKING AROUND WITH THIS

OH HONEY YOU GOT A BIG STORM COMING

Zhang Qiling: The forecast is indeed overcast, but I do not sense rain approaching?

Mere Mortals Chat, 9:53am

Wang Pangzi: HE IS TRYING TO DATE YOU.

Wu Xie: ?

Wang Pangzi: DO NOT CALL THE FLORIST. THEY WILL JUST TELL YOU ABOUT AN EMOTIONALLY STUNTED TOOTHPICK WHO BOUGHT THEM FOR YOU.

Wu Xie: a toothpick?

Wang Pangzi: WHY MUST I DO EVERYTHING AROUND HERE. IS THIS HOW WANG MENG FEELS ALL THE TIME

Wu Xie: I’m confused, Wang Meng bought me flowers?

Wang Pangzi: IT IS SUCH A GOOD THING YOU'RE PRETTY

Wang Pangzi: YOU MAY WANT TO SIT DOWN FOR THIS

Zhang and Wu Chat, 11:08am

Wu Xie: Xiao Ge…this is so sweet. You are…I’m tearing up over here in the kitchen.

Zhang Qiling: You are crying? What has happened? Are you hurt?

Wu Xie: please come to the kitchen so I can hug you. And tell you some things

Zhang Qiling: On my way. You need to tell me who made you cry.

Wu Xie: oh I will.

Main Chat, 7:00am

Wang Pangzi: A MAN SHOULDNT HAVE TO WALK IN ON PURE SMUT WHEN HE IS TRYING TO GET SOME COFFEE IN THE MORNING YA NASTIES

Wu Xie: okay holding hands at the breakfast table is not smut

Fuck off Pangzi

Zhang Qiling: I will happily reserve our affection for more private moments. That moment was not meant for you.

Wang Pangzi: AFTER ALL THE WORK I DID DONT YOU DUCKING DARE “RESERVE” ANYTHING

DUCKING

DUCK

*FUCK

Zhang Qiling: We will also reserve that for private moments.

Wang Pangzi: …

Wu Xie: Omg Xiao Ge!!! Stop! Or switch to private chat and don’t stop;)

Wang Pangzi: I MISS THE TOMBS.

#whomst #ultimate note #the lost tomb #wu xie #dmbj #pingxie

[moonshotsx]

so here's a little something about s13 queens (it's honestly just kandy and mik) relegated to babysit jasmine when she's still a baby - about 4 months old, enjoy!

--

Mik stared at Jasmine, she had gotten much bigger from the last time he had seen her soon after she was born.

She definitely looked less of an ugly screaming demon and more having entered the stupidly adorable doe-eyed phase.

Rosé had tasked him and Kandy to take care of her for a couple of hours while she had been called in for a last-minute rehearsal. He wasn't sure how much of a good idea it was to ask the two least experienced members of their friend group with it.

"So... what now? Are we supposed to just stare at her? Rosé didn't prepare me for this. Do you think she drinks ice coffee already?" He asked, leaning over to Kandy who was busy texting her boyfriend on her phone.

"She's four months old, not a Valley girl in her 20s"

"Fair enough," he replied, turning his attention back to Jasmine as she had been sat down on the soft blanket on the living room floor.

She was wide awake, her big bright blue-green eyes stared at the unlikely babysitting duo with a blank expression.

"She's staring right through my soul, it's unsettling... why does she look at me like that?" He whined, pulling on Kandy's top, "I just signed up to be the cool uncle that sneaks her booze when she's 17!"

Kandy rolled her eyes, "How hard can it be to take care of her for a couple of hours?" she put her phone back in her back pocket and went to sit on the floor next to Jasmine.

Mik followed suit, sitting on the other side of the baby.

"Now what?"

"Bitch, I don't know!" Kandy shrugged her shoulders, "Whatcha like?" she asked Jasmine, who just tilted her head at the question.

"Even I know babies that small don't talk, girl"

"Who knows? If she takes after her mom, little miss thing is going to sing our ears off by the time she's one"

The brunet reached for the toy chest, trying to find something to keep Jasmine entertained until it was time for her to nap.

He took out a couple of colorful toys and stuffed animals, trying to see which one got the biggest reaction out of her.

A flashy hot pink stuffed kitten seemed to do the trick as Jasmine's eyes lit up and started to make grabby hands at it.

"Now, I know for sure she's Rosé's kid," Kandy joked, her contagious laugh filling the room.

Jasmine's attention was back on Kandy as she hear the noise, seemingly curious about it.

"I think she likes your laugh? Do it again!"

"Bitch, I don't laugh on command!" She barely finished her sentence that she was hit square in the face with the stuffed toy.

"You little twink!" she let out, grabbing a small elephant plushie laying on the blanket next to her and throwing it at Mik

He laughed even harder as he avoided the toy, forgetting for a moment why they were there in the first place.

Jasmine giggled, clapping her tiny hands at the scene in front of her.

"I'll make you regret that!"

-

Rosé had managed to free herself just five hours after she had left her baby girl in the hands of Kandy and Mik.

They weren't her first choice - Lagoona would have been perfect but she had a class to teach. With such short notice, she had to resort to them.

She entered the apartment, taken aback by the unusual calmness of the place. Ever since Jasmine was born, she hadn't had a moment of peace, always running around to make sure everything was perfect.

To her credit, Jasmine was a good baby, she didn't cry much during the night but was impossible to keep still during the day. She wondered how her friends had got her to relax.

"Mik? Kandy?" she called out from the front door as she took off her shoes.

She frowned at the lack of reply, quietly making her way down the hall towards the only lit room of the house, the spacious living room.

She barely contained a chuckle at what she saw.

Mik and Kandy were fast asleep on the floor with their back resting against the leather couches, a sea of plushies scattered across the floor.

Jasmine was still awake, imitating animal noises as she played with a small penguin plushie.

Rosé got up to her daughter and picked her up, almost immediately feeling her cuddle against her chest as she got a hold of her long red locks.

"Hey, baby girl," she kissed the top of the blonde hair, she was happy to be back home to her to get her ready for bed after she was done feeding her.

She walked up to the nursery to set Jasmine down in the crib, gently kissing her forehead, "I'll be right back, alright? I gotta wake them so that they can go home," she explain even though she knew the baby couldn't understand her yet.

She was definitely going to wake them up... not before having snapped a picture of them to send to their friend group's chat.

#fic prompt #jasco #rosenali #neighbors au

[the-firebender-girl]

Fire Lord For a Day (Zuko x Reader)

-> There’s a new Fire Lord in town because Zuko lost a bet.

A few years after Zuko was crowned as the Fire Lord and ushered in a new era of peace and harmony, all is finally well between the 4 nations.

The progress of building the war-torn world back up was hard, but not impossible. Under his rule the Fire Nation work to regain its honor and clean its name, doing whatever they can to help restore what they had destroyed. And having the Avatar on his side definitely doesn’t hurt his chances too.

Besides working on the nation, he has worked hard on bettering himself, becoming a better man, someone more deserving of his title. And I think it’s safe to say that he’s well on his way there, Zuko has always been the sane one in the family, the one with a moral compass although he did get somewhat confused in the past before he found who he’s meant to be. Changing for the better is his watchword now.

That thing with Mai didn’t work out too, for the best perhaps. Although they’re compatible and have known each other since they were little, perhaps it wasn’t meant to be anything more than a simple childhood crush, but it can’t really grow past that. They crave for different things in a relationship, Mai was too emotionless, too closed-off, too cold for his taste. After living a life full of loneliness and rejection, all he needs is warmth and acceptance, a pair of welcoming arms.

Perhaps that’s why he’s immediately hooked to her. Y/N. She’s like the sunshine of his life. Her presence brings him so much joy and unconditional love. It was a chance encounter between them. Zuko was walking around the capital in disguise, watching as the world unfold and ran its course around him, how his people are living their life when he bumped into her. Nearly knocking her onto the ground, thank Agni he didn’t.

She apologized profusely when the impact caused his hood to fall back, revealing his face. She wasn’t sure of this new Fire Lord, well he did promise to be different than his ancestors but she needs actions not words. When she won’t stop repeatedly bowing even though he was clearly the one who got in her way, he frowned, and stop her mid-bow.

“You can stop doing that now, i’m okay, there’s nothing to be worried about” He said softly, assuring the poor girl.

“I’m truly sorry Fire Lord, what can I do to make it up to you?” Face still latched with worries, eyebrows tightly knitted.

“Well I still have to think about that” He pretended to contemplate it in his head, one hand positioned under his chin, “In the meantime, how about we discuss it over tea?”

“O—of course Fire Lord Zuko, anything” He can’t help but grimaced, still was not used to the title.

“Zuko please, just call me Zuko”

“Zuko...” She said, testing the name out, how he loved the sound of it.

“And what can I call you, fair lady?”

“Y/N, just Y/N”

“Okay then just Y/N, should we go now?” Zuko said, offering one of his hands for her to hold, which she took gratefully.

“By all means, lead the way Zuko” Finally letting her worries melt away, giving a way in for a smile.

———————————————————————

That was a few years ago.

Turns out that Y/N’s family is the owner of Zen Dimsum & Tea House, the most famous restaurant in the capital. Even Uncle Iroh always squeeze a visit there everytime he comes home.

“Rival only second to Jasmine Dragon itself!” That’s what he claimed.

And now she is officially his girlfriend, him asking her out was anything but romantic. Spirits know how much he lacks in the wooing department. She doesn’t seem to mind it though and said yes in a heartbeat.

She has met the Gaang on several occasions and they all love her. Even the palace servants and guards adore her too. Zuko came to the conclusion that it’s just impossible not to took a liking to her.

That’s what brought us here today. You see about a week ago Zuko had lost a bet to Y/N, and the price she asked for? being a Fire Lord for a day.

Zuko was skeptical at first of course because everything could go downhill real quick, but she assured him that she wouldn’t do anything that could put a permanent damage to his reputation, not too much anyway.

They agreed on this day for his schedule was pretty much empty, no meetings, no strategizing, no council. It’s as perfect as it can be.

Even the Gaang are here too to witness this hilarious once-in-a-blue-moon occasion. Zuko’s never known for being one to let go of the reign. But this girl somehow manages to pulled it off, oh she’s going to be the death of him for sure.

“All hail Fire Lord Y/N” Sokka said in a booming voice, as he puts the Fire Lord headpiece into her top-knot, crowning her for the day.

“All hail Fire Lord Y/N” Aang, Katara, Toph, Suki, and Ty Lee repeated back solemnly while giving an exaggerated bow.

Zuko can’t help but facepalmed himself at the scene that he’s witnessing, Fire Lord Sozin would no doubt have his head if only he were to see this.

“Ahh it feels good to be king” Y/N said, mustering her voice to be as regal as can be, but her grin definitely ruins it.

Uncle Iroh who has somehow founds himself stumbling onto this scene can’t help but let out a loud laughter.

“Now what do we have here? I must say i’m disappointed to see your reign came to an end so soon dear nephew”

Zuko lets out an exasperated groan to which everyone in the room exploded into a series of laughter, this is just too good to be true.

———————————————————————

“What will be your first decree, Your Majesty?” Sokka asked her.

The Gaang, Ty Lee, and Uncle Iroh surrounded her like an entourage, not wanting to miss out on all the fun while a grumbling Zuko trailed not too far behind them.

“Hey Iroh? do you remember when you reigned as the temporary Fire Lord?” Y/N said.

“Of course dear one, it was short but sweet, what about it?”

“I think it’s about time that we bring back what matters most to the people, I hereby declared that National Tea Appreciation Day would be permanently etched into our calendar!”

The Gaang cheer while Uncle Iroh had almost cried on spot, he shrieked happily, hugging the girl tightly.

“You are a blessing to this nation Y/N”

She smiles back at him, “Anything for you, Iroh”

“National Tea Appreciation Day it is then! Toph, mind giving me a hand on drawing the illustration for the official announcement?” Sokka said asking his poster drawing partner, just like old times in Ba Sing Se.

“You got it, boss” Toph grins back at him, giving a thumbs up.

Looking back and forth between his positively glowing uncle and the happiest the Gaang has ever been for some time, Zuko can’t help but feel the tension leaves his body.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad after all”

———————————————————————

“NO! absolutely not! you can’t change our national color to pink and peach Y/N, what do you think we are?” Zuko nearly lose his shit at this madness.

“But I think it’s brilliant, Zuko! red is sooo last centuries” Ty Lee comes to Y/N defense, sticking her tongue out to her childhood friend.

“You guys are crazy” He’s shaking his head frantically, “This nation is doomed” He dramatically said while pulling at his hair, his top-knot has hair sticking out in all directions.

“Oh knock it off, drama king. It’s just for a day! the people deserve to let loose and have some fun. You know you can always revoke it later” Y/N said, pulling her puppy dog eyes at him, lips pouting slightly.

“Please don’t do that... you’re not playing fair Y/N, you know I can’t say no to that face” Zuko grumbles, he’s trying very hard, but she got him putty in her hands.

“You know what? do what you like, it can’t get any worse than this” He said in defeat.

Oh boy if only he knew how wrong he was.

Zuko cannot recognize what he is seeing in front of his eyes. The proud Fire Nation, his nation, is now a seas of pink and peaches.

To his surprise after the announcement of Y/N’s second decree, the people responded to it giddily. They began to dress up in all sorts of pink and peach, their normal red and black outfit long forgotten. Even the usually reserved and standoffish nobles are participating in this event. Excitement buzzing in the air of the capital.

The people are rejoicing, merrily welcoming the arrival of the new ‘Fire Lord’ amidst them with the sound of cheers and clapping. Petals of flowers are thrown to the air, creating a rain of blooms in a flurry of rainbow shades. It’s nice to see them this light-hearted after living under a tyrant for soo long, the constricting rules don’t help either.

For the first time Zuko sees the people of the Fire Nation becoming one, with no clear lines separating between the nobles and the commoners, together right here and now, they are just human who longs for freedom. Freedom that Y/N just gives them, to do as one’s heart content without having to fear for their status or images.

———————————————————————

“Can we have some music over here? real music not the usual propaganda ones, I wanna hear some beat!” Y/N screamed out into the crowd that has filled the Royal Plaza.

“This one really brings the party with her doesn’t she, Sparky?” Toph said to Zuko, as together their eyes sweep over the continously growing crowd.

“Yeah... that she does” Zuko smiles fondly at his girlfriend and the way she enchants the crowd, it’s like they are gravitating towards her.

“Oh no...” Toph said again with a teasing wicked grin, she pointed her finger at him.

“You are so whipped, Sparky”

“That I am Toph, that I am...”

———————————————————————

“WOHOOOO it’s like the secret cave rave all over again!!!” Aang screamed with happiness as he crowd surf. People of all ages dancing below him.

“Aang! you get down here this instant! you’re gonna fall” Katara freaks out watching the Avatar being passed on from hands to hands. Biting her lip so hard she nearly drew blood.

“Oh let him live, Katara! loosen up, it’s a party” Suki said as she elbows her side lightly.

“Why are we just standing here? COME ON” Ty Lee said as she dragged both girls right to the middle of the crowd.

Katara’s screams of “No no no” was the last thing that can be heard before it’s swallowed by the sound of thrumming beats and off-tune singing.

———————————————————————

As the day come to an end, the party died down and people are returning to their respective home. Worn out but as happy as ever.

The Gaang is beaming, their feet light as they make their way back to the palace. Even after all of the heroic things that they had accomplished, it felt nice just to be a bunch of teenagers again.

“I’m beat you guys, i’m probably gonna sleep for the next 2 days” Aang said, pausing mid sentence to let out a yawn.

“Yup good idea, i’m gonna copy you on that” Sokka replied, entertaining the idea of just passing out on the floor right here right now, it looks so tempting. That is before Suki offers him her shoulders to lean on, shaking her head at his antics.

“Goodnight everyone” Katara said, earning back a chorus of “Goodnight” from everyone in return.

“Thanks for the awesome day Y/N” Ty Lee said as she half hugged Y/N before she too makes her way to her room.

Uncle Iroh gave Zuko and Y/N a warm smile, “Go on and rest you two, you both earned it”

“Goodnight uncle”

“Sleep well, Iroh”

———————————————————————

Back in Zuko’s bedroom, they both have cleaned up and changed into their sleepwear but decided that this is a rare moment to just enjoy each other’s presence without the usual pressure of being chased by time constraint.

“Had fun?” Zuko asked as he approaches her who is currently standing in the balcony that looks over the town below.

He wraps his arms around her as she snuggles into him, enjoying the extra warmth that he provided. Zuko leans down to press a kiss atop the crown of her head.

“I’m kinda sad that this day is over but it’s good while it lasts, I had a good run” She said while chuckling a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never in a million years had she imagined this happening to her.

“You certainly made quite an impression on the people, they all adore you, not that i’m surprised it’s about time they all see you the way that I see you”

Y/N tilted her head a bit so that she can see him better, he looks handsome under the moonlight and stars, some pieces of his hair falling down lazily covering one of his eyes.

He looks at her with an intense look in his eyes, suddenly getting all serious.

“If you like it that much, it doesn’t have to end tonight you know?”

This got her letting out a scoff, “What? you’re gonna resign your position to me now?” she asked incredulously.

Zuko rolls his eyes at her, “No, you silly girl”

“How does Fire Lady sounds to you?”

Y/N swears that her heart stopped beating for a milisecond after hearing the words that just came out of her lover’s mouth.

“Are you really proposing to me right now, Fire Lord Zuko?” She said, feigning out a scandalous gasp.

“Spirits you’re dramatic aren’t you”

“You’re one to talk, Zuko”

She pretends to think about it, eyes looking upward, eyebrows scrunching creating a line in her forehead.

Now Zuko is the one who’s starting to get cold feet, what if she rejected him? what if it’s too much? too soon? how brash of him to just throw around this responsibility so carelessly. Before he can start hyperventilating, she raises her hand to cup his cheek gently, rubbing a soothing finger in a left and right motion to calm down his strung nerve.

“That sounds perfect” Sincerity evident in her voice, “I’ll be honored Zuko, if you’ll have me”

“Oh thank the spirits”

He’s in a state of euphoria, pulling her in even closer, he gently takes her face into his hands and lean down to kiss her. A slow, passionate kiss where they pour as much love as they can muster into it.

As they broke apart, Zuko takes her hand and entertwine their fingers together. Leading her back into his room and walk to the front of the vanity.

He opens one of the drawers, taking out a beautiful box decorated with carvings of dragon and fire lillies. Inside it is a gleaming piece of gold in the shape of a flame, the Fire Lady headpiece.

“May I?” He asks her.

She can only nods, emotions threatening to make her burst.

Zuko takes the headpiece and carefully inserted it into her top-knot, it sits perfectly, right where it should be.

“My Fire Lady” Zuko said as he can’t help but smile as he stares at her reflection in the mirror, leaning down to give a kiss to her cheek.

———————————————————————

The national colors went back to the normal red and black but the smiles on his people’s faces remains. Especially after hearing the official engaged-to-be-married announcement of their Fire Lord to she who has brought happiness not only to him, but to the people as well.

That day as she stood beside him from the top stair of the palace, hands waving to the cheering crowd of people below, proudly adorning the Fire Lady headpiece in her hair, Zuko thought to himself.

Yeah Uncle Iroh is never wrong, she is a blessing to this nation.

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Y/N” Uncle Iroh said, giving his salute to the new reigning monarch.

“All hail Fire Lord Zuko and Fire Lady Y/N”

———————————————————————

A/N : I’ve been very productive lately and there’s a lot more stories waiting to be finished in my draft😉 this is my second Zuko fic and as for me i’m very pleased with how it turns out but I really want to hear from you guys too soo feedbacks are definitely hoped for so that I can improve my writing♥️ anyways thank you so much for reading til the end and i’ll see you on another fic lovelies!

#aang #atla #atla aang #atla rewatch #avatar the last airbender #avatar the legend of aang #atla zuko #avatar zuko #zuko #zuko x reader #fire lord zuko #prince zuko #prince zuko fanfic #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko x you #zuko drabble #zuko imagine #zuko smut #zuko x reader smut #atla fandom #atla fanfic #atla imagine #atla drabble #atla smut #uncle iroh #iroh & zuko #katara #sokka atla #toph beifong

[mysweetestcreature]

Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies

Words: 24.5k

Warnings: Mentions of death...smut?

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mummy, come back!” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe she isn’t coming back, after all.

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

“We’ll be happier here?” 

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m Y/n,” she finally tells him. 

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

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

“And your mum?” he tilts his head.

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

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

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

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

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

“Promise.”

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re new, right?” Penny asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe Harry was right after all.

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Busy with?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

*** 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That seems sudden,” she says.

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

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

***

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

“She was hot, though,” Harry interjects.

“I suppose.”

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

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you see?” she asks.

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

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

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

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

He chuckles softly.

“What color is the grass?”

“Green, of course.”

“That’s boring,” he teases.

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

“And the sky?”

That’s her favorite part. 

“Tangerine.”

“That’s a fruit.”

“and a color.”

“Why can’t you just say orange?” 

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

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

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

Her heart stops beating, her eyes double in size.

“What?” 

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

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

He tilts his head.

“I love you too, doofus.” 

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pursuing art, as in...?”

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

“No.”

Had she just heard him right? “What?”

“No.”

“But, Dad–”

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

“Wait, just hear me out first...”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t, I’m too excited.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Kaleidoscope?” 

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

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

***

It’s the middle of March when Harry’s cousin comes to live with him. Jared is about his age, with the same shade of brown hair, only his is straight as opposed to Harry’s mess of wavy curls. Harry had told her that Jared’s mother (Anne’s sister, Sonya) had just passed away after her battle with cancer, and Y/n’s heart broke for the boy she barely knows. Similar to Penny’s situation, Jared’s dad isn’t in the picture. He’d left him and his mum before he was even born, and according to Harry, Jared’s always been very bitter about it.

Jared doesn’t leave his room much, only for school and for meals. Harry’s the only person he talks to because he wants to, not because he has to. They were practically like brothers before Jared had moved away, which Y/n is surprised to hear since she’s never heard of him before. But apparently when they were kids––way before Y/n moved in next door––Jared and his mum would always come over Harry’s house, and they’d play until one of them had to be forcibly dragged away. She had laughed when Harry had told her the story of how he and Jared had gotten stuck in the tree out back for five hours because the adults were so busy chatting inside.  

Sometimes Y/n will stop by and personally offer him some of Nan’s famous chocolate pie, and he’ll accept it only to give it to Harry once she leaves. Of course, she knows it’s nothing personal against her, it just makes her sad that she can’t help someone who is so important to her best friend. It’s hard for her to see Harry worry so much about him, and she really is trying her hardest to help him out. She doesn’t think Jared hates her, if anything, she always catches him staring at her in the halls when he thinks she doesn’t notice. That’s a promising sign, right?

“I happen to think he’s very good looking,” Penny tells her as they walk to Physics. “He kind of reminds of a young Leo.”

“You said the same thing about Harry last week,” Y/n giggles.

“They’re related, aren’t they? Maybe beautiful genes run in the family.”

Penny looks at her. “What do you think?”

She stares back at her. “About?”

“You know, Jared!” 

Y/n’s lips purse together. She hadn’t given him much thought, honestly. 

***

She’s glued to her sketchpad while sitting on the front lawn when she notices a shadow approach her. Not bothering to look up, she pats the spot beside her.

“Nan says that the pudding will be ready in ten,” she says. 

“That’s...cool.” That’s not Harry.

Tearing her eyes away from her latest drawing, she turns her head and sees the last person she expected. “Jared! Hi!” she squeaks.

He offers her a side grin. “Hey,” is all he says. He looks down into her lap. “You’re really good.”

“Oh, thank you.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans before settling them around his ankles. “Uh...do you mind if I sit here with you? You can say no, I was just feeling a little stuffed up in–”

“Of course! I love company!” she smiles broadly.

“I don’t know, you and that pencil were looking pretty cozy,” he suggests. She quirks a brow at him, but when the signs of a smirk begin to change the way his eyes gleam, she finally gets it.

“Jesus, that’s disgusting!” She doesn’t hesitate to slap him over the head. He sniggers in return but doesn’t say much more after that. Y/n continues to draw, but occasionally she’ll look up and catch him watching her. He immediately turns away, pretending to be busy with a blade of grass, or he’ll start whistling like it’s a sitcom.  

***

It doesn’t take long before Jared finally opens up to her. He’s funny––really funny, even though most of his humor is dirty––and is constantly finding ways to make Y/n laugh. She’s found that he does a nearly perfect impression of Austin Powers, and she enjoys it very much. There are also certain angles that really highlight how handsome he is. His eyes are a deep brown, almost the same shade as his hair. There are freckles evenly spread around his nose, almost as if they’d been specifically placed there. And oh, his lashes! They’re just as long as Harry’s, except maybe even fuller. She imagines what they would look like with a fresh coat of mascara. (She jokingly brought up the idea once, and to her delight, Jared says he wouldn’t mind it one bit.)

Harry seems happy that his cousin appears to be back to his old, goofball self. He’s definitely not as stressed over trying to get Jared out of his room as he had been in the immediate weeks after his Aunt Sonya’s death. Even Anne is starting to smile more. Losing her sister had been difficult for her, but Y/n admires how she had stepped up and took her nephew in without hesitance. She’s almost positive that that’s where Harry gets his selflessness from.

“Okay, real question, would you rather give up all desserts or all cheeses?” Jared asks. He always plays this game with her. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes even thought-provoking if she’s really into it. 

“Hmm, that’s a tricky one. Because what about–”

Both their eyes grow wide. “Cheesecake!”

Her head falls onto his shoulder as she laughs. She doesn’t see how Harry turns away. Although, sometimes she’ll notice how he’ll have this weird look in his eyes whenever the three of them are all hanging out together, but she thinks she’s just imagining it. 

***

When Penny tells her that Jared might like her, she doesn’t totally object to the idea.

***

A few days later, Jared kisses her. It’s one of those kisses that happen when you least expect it. She’s frozen in shock until his lips pull away. It’s strange, she likes the feeling, but something seems amiss. He looks at her nervously, like he’s afraid he’s done something completely wrong. But when she finally manages to get over that initial uncertainty, a grin slowly forms on her lips, and he’s kissing her again.

***

In two weeks’ time, she sees Harry snogging Penny outside his front door. She isn’t sure how to react, but she knows there’s this weird feeling inside of her that she doesn’t like.

***

Her and Harry haven’t spoken more than a few words to each other since they started dating other people. It’s not that she doesn’t want to talk to him, in fact, she really misses him. Saturday morning breakfasts just aren’t the same without him shuffling into the kitchen in his half-asleep state. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was going out of his way to avoid her. Penny says that maybe he’s just feeling awkward because her two best friends are dating. (It turns out Harry had been the guy she’d been pining over for years.)

Maybe that’s true, but shouldn’t that make it easier for them to find themselves in the same room? She’s happy that Penny’s finally happy! Things hadn’t worked out with her last two boyfriends because all they wanted was to take advantage of her. If there’s one thing she’s sure about, it’s that Harry would never cross any lines that Penny hadn’t invited him to cross.

When they’re in Harry’s car, she’ll catch glimpse of how Harry takes Penny’s hand over the console, or how she’ll feed him fries from their takeaway. It makes her happy to see them like this. Really, it does.

Jared is just as much a gentleman, too. They haven’t done anything past snogging, and she’s okay with that. She isn’t even sure she’s ready for that type of commitment. It’s not like she has this idealized fantasy about losing her virginity. She doesn’t expect it to happen in the same way as the movies, with candles and a bed full of rose petals, or any of that romantic stuff. If the time’s right, it’s right. All she wants is to make sure her heart’s a hundred and ten percent in it before she lets anyone in. She wonders if Penny and Harry have talked about going all the way.

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it.”

“Oh,” Y/n tries not to sound surprised. “And how did that go?”

Penny gives a noncommitted answer. “He says he’s willing to wait until I’m ready. But the thing is, I’m ready now!”

***

Penny loses her virginity soon after. Y/n is the first person she calls, and it’s a bunch of squealing and bragging about how perfect it all was. How gentle and attentive he’d been, and how she can’t wait to do it again. It takes everything in her to not hang up. She loves Penny to death, but some things––at least in her opinion––are left unsaid.

***

The first time she and Harry get to spend time together, as in just the two of them, is when Jared is stuck in bed with a cold, and Penny is out with her mum. It’s not exactly planned, in fact, she had only seen him from the living room window whilst helping Nan dust the mantel. Deciding she couldn’t let the opportunity pass, she drops the feather duster and runs out the front door.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets, but she doesn’t sit. It’s only now she sees the bottle of beer hanging between his fingers. He usually only drinks when he’s got something messing with his head. 

He nods at her, and gestures to the spot beside him. She sits, but it feels to calculated for them. Usually, she’d plop down, not caring if their knees would brush together. Now, she’s careful to leave at least a few inches between them. And she hates how awkward things feel between them. In a matter of months, they’d gone from being attached at the hip, to barely acquaintances. 

“So, what’s going on?”

He takes a sip from the bottle, his face twitching with disgust as he does so, then takes a deep breath. “Do you ever feel like things should be different?”

A sudden gust of wind lifts her hair over her shoulders. She doesn’t know if the goosebumps running down her spin are from that or the it’s from the magnitude of his question. “Different, how?”

His features soften when he finally looks at her. As in, really looks at her. It feels like so long since he’s done, that it takes her breath away. He doesn’t say anything yet, but she can see in his eyes that there’s something there. 

“Harry?” she whispers.

His eyes drop down to her lips, and he licks his own in reaction. Nothing seems to matter at that moment. If her mind had been juggling with thoughts before this, it isn’t now. All she can think about his him. How good it feels to be so close him, and how she wants to be closer. 

Then it hits her. Jared. She’s with Jared, and Harry’s with Penny. She’d been leaning into him, but now that she’s broken from his trance, she straightens up.

Harry brushes off his disappointment with another sip from his beer. His stare lands across the street, where a pair of children are chasing each other around a tree. He drops his head, his hand wrapping around the base of his neck.

“I’m leaving for Boston tomorrow.”

She nods slowly. “Visiting your dad?”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Something like that.”

Finally, he stands up, then offers her his hand so she can too. He doesn’t let go right away, and she revels in how good it feels. She smiles down to where they’re holding each other, then stares into his green orbs. 

Pulling on her arm, she’s suddenly trapped in his embrace. She hugs him back, her hands sliding up to his shoulder blades and pinching his t-shirt between her fingers. It’s all a bit confusing, but she continues to cling to him. She feels his nose nudge the crown of her head before he lets go.

He turns around and doesn’t look back. 

She isn’t sure what just happened, but it feels a lot like goodbye.

*** Ten Years Later

“It doesn’t feel right,” she sighs. “I can’t be the only one who’s thinking it.” He shuffles in place, eyes scanning the room around them. “What do you suggest then?”

“Take this to the empty wall by the entrance, then move the Reynalda exhibit closer to the back. It’s our main attraction, we have to make people work for it.”

Angelo nods approvingly, and she calls a thank you out to him as he gets to work. Y/n watches the rest of her staff disperse into their allocated directions, and it’s then she can finally take a moment for herself. Sometimes she feels suffocated, but at the same time so hollow.

There are so many reasons why Y/n shouldn’t be feeling as empty as she does now. After all, her life is pretty damn close to perfect. She graduated university with high honors, she has a well-paying job as director of a prestigious art gallery, and she lives in a beautiful two-bedroom apartment with her adoring fiancé who she’s been with for the better part of a decade. 

She can’t pinpoint when exactly she realized that something had been missing, or maybe this feeling has always existed somewhere deep inside, and she’s just been really good at hiding it. The only person who knows about this internal battle is Ava, but Y/n doesn’t like to bother her too much since she’s busy with coursework, as well as her own problems that come with being nineteen and young. 

Of course, there’s Jared. Her love. Her rock. Her other half. She doesn’t know why can’t talk about this with him. Maybe it’s too much of girl problem, or maybe it’s just guilt. The last thing she wants him to think is that he’s not enough to fill this void in her life. If anything, he’d been able to pick up all her damaged pieces when she just couldn’t. He’s great, more than. She depends on him, and he’s never let her down. 

But if that’s true. Why can’t she just be honest?

***

“Right, I’m heading out now. I’ll see you–” he pauses, and she can see the concern overtake his features from the reflection of the blank television screen. He walks around their living room and kneels in front of her, his hands rubbing her lower thighs with every intention to soothe her. “What’s wrong?”

“I...I don’t really know,” she laughs, then shakes her head. “It’s silly, really. You go ahead. Go have fun with Sid.” It’s her best attempt at a smile, but it’s a weak one. 

He looks at her unsurely, like he’s debating if he should protest or not. She kisses him gently on the lips. 

“Go.” And she nudges him to his feet. Although she can tell he’s hesitant, he eventually concedes, leaning down for just one more peck to her forehead, then he’s out the door.

She needs to find a way to depress this strange feeling. It’s starting to affect too much of her life. A life that she enjoys, thank you very much.

Before she falls slave to her thoughts, she slumps into the kitchen to pour herself a glass of cabernet. Maybe it’s a far too generous portion, but is there ever such thing as too much wine? At least for tonight, the answer is no.

The alcohol burns her throat with its bitter sweetness, and she finds comfort in how it settles at the pit of her stomach. She breathes in deeply. This is just what she needs. It’s all in her head. Stress, probably. 

Just as she’s about to rewrap herself in her blanket, the front door opens and closes with a gentle thud. She swings around, brows curling in question as Jared slips off his coat leans against the nearest wall.

“Sid will understand. You’re the one who needs me tonight.” 

She leans against the arm of the couch, a moved smile playing at her lips because, wow. How did she get so lucky?

***

“I found another grey hair this morning,” Jared says. “Is this what getting old feels like?”

She runs her fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-eight, Jae. And besides, silver foxes are pretty sexy.” 

“I guess I’m a bit of a Clooney.” And he wags his brows suggestively. If he’s trying to come onto her, it’s not exactly working, but she’s also not completely turned off. This is why they’re good together. After all these years he still knows how to make her laugh.

They’re about a quarter though their takeaway (and she’s so touched that Jared decided to stay home that she doesn’t even say anything about the pork fried rice) when their doorbell sounds.

“I got it, hun,” he says, placing his plate on the coffee table, and grabbing a napkin before greeting the unexpected guest.

Y/n is pleasantly surprised when Penelope falls into the seat beside her. She looks dressed for a date, but the way she blows ferociously into the air, Y/n knows that things haven’t gone her way.

Without asking, Penny helps herself to their food, moaning as she stuffs a spoonful of that same fried rice into her mouth. “If I wasn’t wearing this dress, I would a hundred percent finish this whole thing.”

“You can borrow some clothes,” Y/n offers. Her friend pretends to contemplate, but she’s the first one to stride over into the master bedroom. 

Y/n pulls out a fresh pair of pajamas, and when she turns around, her mouth quirks in a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Under Penny’s dress is the daintiest set of red lace lingerie she’s ever seen. (And she has her fair share of lingerie since she knows it drives Jared wild.)

“Looks like you were in for a sexier evening,” she muses. She tosses Penny the set.

Her friend rolls her eyes. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing,” she says. Y/n isn’t quite sure what she means by it, but smirks, nonetheless.  

“Now...” Penny pulls her hair through the hem of the borrowed shirt, “let’s finish off that food, shall we?”

Jared doesn’t say anything when they get back, either too consumed with his egg rolls or not wanting to interject himself into the conversation. Y/n simply kisses him on the cheek as she settles back into her meal. 

She glances at Penny for a moment, and her curiosity becomes overpowering. “Okay, so I wasn’t going to ask, but I feel like I have to now,” she explains. Penny cocks a brow at her. “What happened tonight.”

“He cancelled last minute. I was already at the damn restaurant when he texted saying something came up.” She stabs a piece of orange chicken. “It’s a bunch of bullocks if you ask me.” Typical Penny. It wouldn’t be fair to say that her friend is prone to trust issues, but it does take a little more effort. Ever since Harry had broken up with her back when they were seventeen, she hasn’t kept a relationship for more than a few weeks because she claims she doesn’t want to risk getting her heart broken again.

Harry Styles had broken her best friend’s heart, then disappeared to another country. Y/n hates him for that. She hates that he threw away all those years of friendship without a proper explanation. She hates that he abandoned her, especially when he knew how insecure she is about goodbyes. 

But not every guy is Harry. There are good ones that will stick by you no matter what, like Jared. Y/n reaches over and brushes his bangs away from his eyes. Penny just needs to find her person, and Y/n just knows that once she does, she’ll finally feel right.

“This is that Ahmed guy from the gym, right? I don’t know, Pen. He’s a decent bloke. Maybe something really did happen.”

Penny pulls a face, like she’s just oversaturated her food with soy sauce. “Wouldn’t hold my breath. He’s got baggage, and he won’t accept that he isn’t happy to carry it anymore.”

That last bit sticks to her. 

***

Her job requires her to have both a deep appreciation for art and a mind for marketing strategy. It had been the closest compromise that she and her father had come to when she had started her plight for a degree. 

After spending the last of her year of secondary school having second thoughts about the plausibility of making it in the art world, she decided that maybe her dad was right, after all. He would tell her to be in charge, to take control of her life. That way, she’d never be blindsided by anything. She’s still around the world she loves––the canvas, the acrylics, the community of dreamers who share their passion with the world––just from a more business perspective. The more she reflects on those naïve teenage years, the more she appreciates the direction she’d took. She has the best of both worlds, in her opinion. A steady income, and a building full of paintings and sculptures and history. What more can she ask for?

“Y/n!” She looks over her shoulder, where Angelo, her assistant, waves some a sizeable file in his hands. He gives her a knowing smirk.

“Good news?” she teases.

Angelo hands her the file. “Sales report can confirm.”

She glosses it over, satisfied with the numbers. Looks like she’d inherited more from her dad than just his advice. “And they said Expressionism was dead.” Their last grand showcase had been an ode to the German Expressionism movement. They had drawn criticism in the days leading up to the event because some saw it as outdated. But that’s just ridiculous. Art is art. And while history remains in the past, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be appreciated. Y/n’s vision for the gallery is embrace both the old and the new.

“Degenerates,” Angelo rolls his eyes. “Anyway, Dax, Narsi, and I are thinking Damond’s for lunch. You in?”

She looks down at her watch, and curses under her breath. “Can’t,” she sighs. “I have to interview the new curator in a bit.”

“You work too much,” he says humorously, but they both know there’s truth stitched into his words. He gives a friendly squeeze to her elbow. “Bring you back sandwich?” 

“Please,” she smiles. He gives her a mock salute before turning on his heel. 

When he’s completely out of sight, she lets her lips fall into a frown. She examines her watch again, there’s still a few minutes until their scheduled virtual call. She uses the time to stroll the halls, something she doesn’t really get to do. Well, not for fun, at least. 

Things are currently in transition, and all of the Maximalism works are finding their way onto her walls. She stops in front of one in particular that just screams color. With its carefully planned, yet freeing mixture of patterns and textures, it’s a piece to tickle the brain. 

“It’s beautiful.” Her eyes widen. That voice. She feels everything from her body to her unsuspecting heart freeze.

Her grip on her own arm tightens painfully. She thinks she might turn blue from her inability to breathe at this moment. 

“I’ve always liked how much of the artist we can feel. It really captures the complexity of character.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “I agree.” She risks all and looks up, and he’s right there waiting for her. Harry. Her arms drop to her side as she feels herself grow weak.

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Hi,” he whispers, then smiles. That smile. She had tried so hard not to think about how it had once been her favorite image. His dimples have caved in deeper, if that’s even possible. And his eyes, they’re the same brilliant green she remembers. “I saw an ad in the paper and thought I’d check it out.”

Something must be strangling her vocal cords because she finds that she’s unable to make a sound. 

***

“And what did you do?” 

Y/n drops her head to the table, not even caring if it’s dirty. With the day she’s had, it’s the least of her problems. “I was in shock! I-I think I might have screamed at him.” 

Ava snorts into her drink. 

There’s not much about earlier that she can clearly recall, but she does remember how she had fled to her car and driven halfway across the city to her sister’s dorm and dragged her to the nearest pub. Why? Because she couldn’t think of anything else to do.

“Why would he just...show up?” she questions. “It makes no sense!”

“Probably got homesick,” Ava shrugs. “Plus, Dad says it’s been in the work–”

“Wait,” Y/n’s head snaps towards her. “Dad knows?”

The younger woman looks at her as if she were insane. “Duh, he’s the one that approved the transfer.”

“But why am I only hearing about this now?” She feels herself heating up with annoyance, anger, and something else that makes her want to pull her hair out. Ava doesn’t respond right away. She looks down at her now empty drink and watches as the ice cubes into water. 

“Well,” she starts, still not bothering to meet her eyes, “ever since he left, he’s been a bit of a taboo subject for you.” 

Her jaw tenses at that, and she sits back in her chair. That’s a bit of an overstatement. Y/n had reacted the way any person would have if put in her situation. She huffs with frustration. “So, what else is everyone hiding from me?”

“This isn’t an intervention, enough with the dramatics,” Ava says.

Y/n’s lips form into a straight line. She looks over the bar and tuts her tongue. “I need another drink,” she mutters. “Where the heck is Penny? She’s supposed to be working tonight.”

***

After Ava had started going to school in the city, her dad had decided to move into the London office full-time in order to be closer to both his girls. And lucky for Y/n, he’s just close enough to get information out of. She visits her dad during her lunch break because she needs answers.

“Dad, we need to talk,” she demands, bursting through his office door without any regard for just about anything. “Explain to me why...”

Matthew Y/l/n tilts his head at her with a raised brow, and the person sitting on the opposite side of his desk has an expression to match.

“Perfect,” she sneers. “We’re all here, then.”

She nearly loses it when Harry choke down a laugh while getting up and offering her his now empty seat. She takes it, but not before she glares at him and his stupid face. 

Her dad looks like he’s been caught in a crossfire, and he calculatingly smooths down his perfectly ironed tie. Harry takes the seat beside hers, except he makes a point to pull it a few inches away.

“So...” her dad practically sings. “Harry’s back!”

“I can see that.” From the corner of her eye, she sees a smirk. “Why are you even here?” 

Harry doesn’t seem offended despite the harsh nature of her tone. He chances a glance at her dad before turning to her. “Work,” is his first answer. He bounces one leg over the other and leans back against the back the seat. His expression softens. “But I guess I just really missed home.”

She thinks that’s bullshit. No decent person would leave everything behind without a second thought. “It took you ten years?”

“I did what I had to do,” he retorts.

“And that was to just disappear?” 

“This isn’t really the place nor time...”

“Then why bother coming back!"

That manages to crack Harry’s calm demeanor. He looks at her as if she had knocked the wind from his lungs. At this point her chest is heaving, as well. She forgets where they are and that her dad is a witness to this outburst. 

“I, uh,” they both turn to Matthew as he tries to find the words to appease the situation. “I was thinking we could all go out for dinner later?” He’s joking, right? He smiles as her, but with that ‘I’m your father and you don’t have much of a say in this’ look in his eyes. “How about you and Jared meet us around...say, seven? Hey, you know what? Bring Penelope, too!”

“Pen–”

Matthew swivels in his chair and practically hops to his feet. He leans down and kisses Y/n on the head. “Got to get to a meeting. I’ll see you later.” And with that, he’s gone. It leaves her alone with the person she wants nothing more than to get away from.

She doesn’t understand what’s happening to her. There are so many things she feels bombarding her all at once and there’s not one thing she can make sense of. Harry doesn’t say anything. Instead, he’s typing something on his phone. His lips are quirked up in an almost-grin, and she can’t help but feel miffed that he has the audacity to pull such a face in her presence when all she can do is glower. 

“I guess we’ll talk later?” he suddenly says. He slips his phone into his pants pocket. She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes. Like her dad had done, he gets up and starts towards the door. But before she can even hear it graze against the carpeting, he mutters one last thing. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

Her dress squeaks loudly against the leather of her seat because she must have turned too quickly. Their eyes meet, his are difficult to read.

***

“...and I’ve been trying to look for a flat, but the boss works me too hard,” Harry smirks over at Matthew. Her dad lets out a hearty chuckle as he finishes off the last of dessert.

“Well, if you’re really that overworked, it’s not at all obvious,” Penny says with a saucy smile. “Definitely still a catch.” She touches his arm, and Y/n digs her nails into her palm because it makes her feel sick. It’s ridiculous that she’s so bothered by how quickly conversation had flowed between Harry and Penelope. 

Jared has an arm around the back of her chair. He looks bored with the conversation. She can’t tell if he’s irked at Harry (in the same way she is) or because he sees how much her dad likes him. That’s not to say that Jared isn’t well liked by Matthew. He did get his blessing to propose, after all. Yeah, they’ve been engaged for a while now. But so, what? Long engagements are common enough, and it does allow the two participants to fully get to know one another, as well as get close to the important people in their lives. Things just aren’t as smooth between her dad and Jared as she would like, but she supposes that’ll ease over with time. 

“I wouldn’t let my current appearance fool you,” Harry snorts.

“Is that a challenge?” Penny bats her lashes at him. 

Y/n can’t take it anymore. “So!” she interrupts, “Pen, didn’t you go out with that Vogue photographer last night?

Her friend gives her an odd look, but when she sees the rest of the table’s eyes on her, she waves it off. “Oh, yeah. But it didn’t end how I would’ve liked.” She gestures between her legs. “He had a little trouble getting it up.” 

“Penelope Swanton,” Matthew warns, as if she might give him a heart attack. “Parental unit sitting right here.”

Everyone shares a laugh except for Y/n and Jared. The latter just stares at the tablecloth with vague intensity. It’s strange that he hasn’t made a quip all night. He’s usually the one who talks the most...well, besides Penny. 

“Maybe pretty girls scare him,” Harry chuckles. “It happens to the best of us.”

A mischievous glint sparkles in Penny’s eyes. “Do I scare you, Harry?” 

“COFFEE!” Y/n all but screams. “We should order coffee!” She can’t just sit there and watch her friend make the same mistakes all over again. It would be a serious miscarriage of justice is she were to let that happen. 

But she can only stall for so long, and before she knows it, they’re all making their way out of the restaurant. It’s that awkward phase of standing outside and making small talk before someone has the balls to leave. Harry offers Penny a ride, and Y/n has to watch as they get into his car, laughing like he hadn’t broken her heart all those years ago. 

Jared still seems to be in a mood as well, but he plays it off and tells her he’s got a stomachache from the scallops he had as an appetizer. She rubs his back as they wait for the valet to bring their car around, glaring at Harry’s taillights before he turns onto the road. 

***

Y/n manages to not think about Harry for a few weeks. With the newest exhibit opening up, it’s kept her body and mind busy. By the time she gets home, she’s tired and all she wants is to put her feet up and watch reruns of Downton Abbey.

The doorbell rings, and she can’t help but groan because she was just getting comfortable. She looks through the peephole, then shakes her head knowingly. She pulls the door open.

“Don’t you have work?” she asks playfully, but she wishes she could take it back when she sees the broken look painted across Penny’s face. “Oh my god, are you alright?” She guides her friend into the apartment and sits her down on the couch.

Penny suddenly bursts into tears, her face falling into her hands as though she were hiding her shame. Not wanting to distress her further, Y/n gathers her in her arms and lets her cry it out. They’ve been through a lot together, and in all their years of friendship, she’s never seen her look so somber as she does now.  

She strokes her hair, whispering her reassurance even though she’s left in the dark. Penny breaks from her hug and wipes her eyes with her knuckles before looking at her with misty eyes. “I’m...” but she starts blubbering, and nothing coherent can be understood. Y/n waits patiently until she can speak. “I’m pregnant.” 

Y/n feels the color drain from her face while her head fills worry. She can’t decide who she’s worried more about, Penny or her baby. Penny is an adult is capable of making her own decisions, but she can also be reckless. She can barely pay her rent on time and her work schedule isn’t the best either. A baby would mean growing up, but Y/n knows that Penny’s still trying to figure things out. 

Then, the inevitable question bubbles in her throat. “How far along?” Penny sniffles. “About six weeks.”

Y/n feels awful that the first thing she feels is relief. Not Harry’s. “And the father?” 

“I can’t tell him,” Penny cries, she lays her head in Y/n’s lap. “He’s...he has a...” She doesn’t need to finish that sentence for Y/n to understand.

“Penny...” her tone is every bit of disappointed. 

***

She accompanied Penny to her first appointment to the OB-GYN this morning, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat had been enough to drive both women to tears. It was beautiful, and the look in Penny’s eyes said all that they could. Sure, Y/n had worried about her when she first learned of the pregnancy, but that had immediately changed with just that one look. 

One day, Y/n hopes to have children of her own. She and Jared have opened up the topic a few times, but they never seem to be on the same page when it comes to starting a family. He claims it’s because his job’s hours are too crazy to juggle an infant. He’s the physical therapist for the National Football team, which means he has to go with them on away games. Deep down, however, Y/n thinks he’s afraid that he’ll end up the way his father did. She wants to tell him that’s ridiculous, but she always has to walk on eggshells about that. 

It’s okay, though. Until she and Jared can come to an agreement, she has no qualms over spoiling her new niece or nephew. Auntie Y/n. She likes the sound of that. So much, in fact, that she finds herself outside of a baby boutique on the high street. She wonders if Penny will be having a boy or a girl. 

“So cute!” she smiles to herself when she sees all the onesies on the mini mannequins. Would it be too early to plan Penny’s baby shower? She’s so lost in hypothetical party planning that she doesn’t notice see body before they collide, and warm liquid misses her shoes by mere centimeters. 

“I’m so sorry!” she rushes out an apology. There’s an unflattering brown stain on his otherwise perfect white button-up. She grabs for her wallet in her purse, hoping to at least pay for the damages, but stops when she gets a good look at him.

“You.” 

The world must really have it out for her. Harry looks down at his tainted shirt. “Nice seeing you too.” 

“Sorry,” she says again. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Head in the clouds?” he muses, shaking his sleeve of the last remaining drops of coffee.

She smiles tightly. “Just window shopping.”

He looks at the store in front of them, and his head snaps towards her. “Are you...?”

“No,” she replies immediately. “A friend of mine.”

For some reason, his shoulders seem to relax. He’s still incredibly handsome, though she never doubted that that would ever change. Under his wet shirt, she notices a sizeable few tattoos inked onto his chest. The sight intrigues her, and she has to stop herself from reaching out and tracing them with her finger. 

“Let me pay for your dry-cleaning,” she says, tearing her eyes away from his body. 

Harry shakes his head. “There’s no need, honestly. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” She really doesn’t want to be in his debt. “I’d feel better if I could make it up to you somehow.”

“No, really. It’s fine.” Why is he so stubborn?

“I insist.” 

He studies her for a moment. She imagines that she can see the gears turning as he thinks. 

“I’m actually on my way to a viewing, and well...I’m not really sure what to look for.”

She replays his words in her head. “So, you want me to...help you pick out an apartment?” That can’t be right.

“My car’s just over there,” he points with his chin. “What do you say?”

Alarms are sounding in her head, each one screaming a different command between her ears. A part of her is saying it’s a bad idea, that she should stand her ground and stay mad at him because of what he had done. On the other hand, the rest of her––the biggest part of her––wants to indulge in the feeling she has when she’s with him. It’s a crazy mix of fury and joy that isn’t entirely unbearable. 

“Fine,” she concedes, and she brushes past him and starts towards his car. “But only because I feel bad about the shirt.” She doesn’t dare look back. She slides into the passenger seat and buckles herself in. Her stomach is doing cartwheels beneath her high-waisted pants. 

Harry gets into the driver’s seat but doesn’t start the engine right away. He pulls his jacket off and places it neatly on the console. What he does next makes her regret getting out of bed this morning. Her mouth dries as he undoes every button of his shirt and reveals the tattoos she’d been fantasizing about earlier.

“Do-do you mind?” She feels her cheeks heat up, and she turns to the window in hopes to find a distraction. 

“Well, I’m not going to talk business looking like I’ve just been bullied by a barista.”

“That’s completely beside the point!” 

“Well, you can look now, Mother Teresa,” he says smugly. She hesitantly cranes her neck back. He’s now sporting a similar shirt, but this time, it’s dark grey. “See?”

She huffs, then mutters something under her breath. He smiles at her, like he’s just dying to tease her, but ultimately decides not to. She just glares straight ahead.

“Just drive the damn car.”

***

“And this unit is complete with its own balcony which overlooks the Thames,” Mariette, Harry’s real-estate agent says to the both of them. “It sets the mood nicely, don’t you think? And it happens to be very popular with our younger couples.” She sends them a not-so-subtle wink. 

Y/n feels herself flush, and she ducks into the kitchen and pretends to inspect the marble countertop. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry says. He doesn’t seem to be paying that much attention, or if he is, he’s really good at hiding his own embarrassment. Y/n wonders if he’s just humoring the over-zealous agent. After all, he was never the type to correct someone over silly little details. 

Mariette tells them to walk around, get a feel for the place, before excusing herself to make a phone call. Y/n follows Harry up the stairs where all the bedrooms are. There are three, and the master bedroom has its own ensuite toilet and bath.

“What do you think?” Harry asks her.

She glances at the view from the window. It’s beautiful, gorgeous even. The building itself is in one of the nicer parts of town, where the congested London traffic wouldn’t take away from its overall aura. She can already picture him spending the mornings on the balcony with a cup of tea and a book or passed out on a king-sized mattress in the bedroom after a long day of work.

“It’s nice,” she answers truthfully. “But it doesn’t matter what I think.”

Harry looks at her like she’s spewing nonsense. “I asked for your input, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But at the end of the day, it’s your home. Not mine. You might not even stay around long enough to enjoy it.” The look on his face when she lets that last part slip out makes her wish she had just shut her mouth. She leaves him in the bedroom and heads into the hall. She needs to get away. Why couldn’t she have just given him a simple answer? Why does she continue to open up old wounds that she knows she’ll never be able to close? 

Before she can get far, however, his fingers curl around her shoulder. He swallows thickly behind her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. Until now, he hadn’t apologized. She hadn’t expected him to, and now she isn’t sure how to take it. This should vindicate her, but all she wants to do is curl up and close herself off from the world, even for a little while.

She looks down to her feet, and as though on cue, her eyes begin to fill with tears. Her hand quickly lands on her mouth to muffle a sob.

He turns her towards him, holding her by the waist. In a split-second, she’s wrapped in his arms. She tries to pull away, but her body is too unwilling to lose his familiar warmth. 

“Why didn’t you say goodbye?” she whimpers against his shirt.

His chest heaves. “Because if I did, I’d never be able to leave.” His words shake her.

She pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. “But what about me?” she asks. “Harry, you were my best friend, and you just treated me like I meant nothing to you.” It made her feel like nothing. Apparently, she’s an easy person to leave behind. First it was her mother, then the person she trusted most. She couldn’t tell you which had broken her more.

“I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Scoffing, “A bit late for that, no?”

“Then let me make it up to you,” his plea is coated with desperation. Every bit of him shines with sincerity that she wishes she could ignore. His touch burns her through her clothes like blue flames. Body and mind are rekindling, and now that she remembers what it feels like to be close to him, she can’t see a version of herself that doesn’t want him back in her life.

“I don’t know if I believe in second chances,” she says softly. His grip on her loosens substantially, and there’s a sudden fear that he’ll let go. “But,” she continues, “you’ll be my first.”

It’s a bone-crushing, heart-enlarging hug, and it leaves her feeling happier than she’s felt in a long time.

***

They’re not the same two kids who would spend every waking moment together, but this is the closest they’ll ever get in adult life.

Harry visits her on her lunch breaks and lets her bounce marketing strategies off of him whilst they walk the gallery. Just like her dad, he has a well-versed business mind. It feels good to be able to talk to him again. It’s like a part of herself has risen after years of sleep and is finally seeing the light of day. Under the fancy suits and numerous tattoos, he’s still the same guy who can listen to her talk for hours without fail.

She’s even had him over for dinner at her and Jared’s place. At first, she was afraid that things would be tense between the two of them, after all, Jared hadn’t talked much during their dinner nearly a month back. To her delight, however, they seemed to pick up where they left off, and spent majority of the night talking sports and all that ‘man’ talk that she can never be bothered to understand. 

If a month ago she had felt empty, she can proudly admit that she’s starting to fill up.

***

When Penny announces that the baby is a girl, Y/n is probably the most excited. She visits the baby boutique she’d been browsing some days ago and buys a rubber duckie onesie with a matching headband, along with four other matching sets.

“You really shouldn’t have to go through all the trouble,” Penny scolds her.

Y/n waves her off. There shouldn’t be any of that nonsense. She likes being able to spoil her best friend’s future child. “I want to. Just humor me, okay? I’m aiming for Auntie of the Year.” She lays all the rest of the outfits on Penny’s sofa.

“It’s true,” Harry adds. “She’s already had the bib made.” Y/n flips him off but is far too delighted by all the pretty patterns to come up with a proper retort. Rather, she tries to sweep Penny into conversation about a real baby shower (and not just the one she’d planned in her head), discussing potential guests and a wish list that she should start setting up on Amazon.

Jared and Penny give each other a look, and the way the former’s jaw tenses doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry but completely goes over Y/n’s head.  

***

“Why don’t you put any of your own work on display?” Harry asks her one day.

“Honestly?” she sighs, “I haven’t actually made anything in...well, almost a decade.”

His jaw drops. “I don’t think I heard you right, a decade?” 

The same amount of time you’ve been gone, she thinks to herself. Of course, now that they’re back to being friends, she would never say it out loud. 

***

Nan had called her up and asked if she and Ava would drive up to Holmes Chapel and help her sort out all the things to donate. They try to visit their grandparents every few months because they are getting to the age where they won’t be around for long. Although, Nan will tell anyone with ears that she’s stronger than she was in her twenties due to her weekly spin classes at the community center. Meanwhile, Gramps is still the same as ever. He still sits in front of the TV and watches highlights of games he’s got recorded on the DV-R, and accidentally knocks over Nan’s petunia’s when he backs the car out of the garage. 

Her childhood bedroom is also how she had left it. Sure, her teenage years had called for a bit of renovation, but underneath posters of her favorite actors and boy bands are the youthful stickers Nan had put up when they had first arrived. 

She rummages through her closet, throwing old clothes in good condition into her donation basket. There are even some that were never worn, and she debates whether she’d be able to use any of it, but ultimately decides against it.  

The top shelf is full of empty shoe boxes and other things she had carelessly thrown up there. Her old sketchbook falls open, face down, at her feet. 

She picks it up and is greeted by the same sketch that had won her first prize in the art show all those years ago when she was fifteen. Her fingers graze over the pencil lines, and it’s like being reacquainted with an old friend. She had spent months on this one drawing, and it had turned out to be her greatest piece to date (the actual painting is still being preserved at the school).

“You know, I always thought that boy looked like Anne’s boy,” Nan says nonchalantly. Y/n hadn’t even heard her come in. 

“What?” Y/n stares intently at the paper. “You think so?”

Ava practically skips in. “Oh, gossiping, are we?” She sounds just like Nan. Y/n can’t help the roll of her eyes. 

“I was just telling your sister about how that painting of hers up at the school looks a lot like Harry.”

“Is it not supposed to?” Ava seems genuinely confused. 

“I mean...it wasn’t actually based on anyone in particular,” Y/n says, feeling the need to defend herself. “It was just...something I envisioned in my head.” She turns back to her closet, leaving Nan and Ava to carry on their conversation on her bed. 

Reaching her arm up high, she feels around the shelf until she pokes something soft. When she brings it down, she can’t help but grin. Freddo. She had almost forgotten about him. After Harry had left, she had gone on a bit of a rampage, and any reminder of him had fallen victim to the trash or banishment to the top shelf.

Nan must notice her smile because she comes up and cradles her from behind and rests her chin on her shoulder. “It’s funny,” she says, and Y/n looks back at her expectantly. “I also thought that you two would end up together, but I guess I was off by a bit, huh?” She kisses Y/n on the cheek and calls for Ava to follow her downstairs.

Y/n stares at the toy as though it held some sort of secret.

***

She’s lucky she’s home by herself––Jared is off at the pub for his and Sid’s weekly meet-up––because now she has time to unwind and be as antisocial as she wants. Work had been stressful, mostly because the exhibit is set to open next week. And really, all she wants is to be under her favorite blanket with a cup of hot chocolate and just be dead to the world.

Even though she thinks that, however, she can’t help but tap on her phone screen every few minutes. Sure, she likes the time alone, but she also likes being needed. Ava says it’s a control thing, but she really just prefers to be in the know. Lately, Penny’s been spamming her with messages and phone calls about the baby or sometimes it’ll be for a little reassurance. Of course, she’s more than happy to support her. It’s brave of Penny to tackle this alone. The baby’s father is completely out of bounds, so she’s told, and Penny says she’d rather her baby grow up with just a mother than in some dysfunctional setup.

Speaking of dysfunction, she hasn’t been able to properly think straight ever since her visit with Nan. What the elderly woman had told her hadn’t exactly shocked her, per say, but it did have her rethink some of the interactions between her and Harry. It’s ridiculous, really. They’d been best friends since she was eight and he was nine. They know each other’s ins and outs, likes and dislikes, what makes the other laugh and cry. They’re simply comfortable. 

Okay. Maybe there had been times where she thought that the possibility of something more was on the table, but that quickly proved to be all in her imagination. She had her boyfriends and he had his girlfriends. She fell in love with his cousin, and he dated her other best friend. Then he left town.

Then he left.

***

Abandoning her original plans for the night, Y/n finds herself at his door. 

“Hey,” he greets her, but his warm smile falters when he takes note of her appearance. “What’s with the look? Are you okay?” She doesn’t answer, she’s too taken by the image of him and the way her heart feels like it might burst from her chest to comprise a full sentence. He doesn’t push her, though. He fishes into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out a shapely object wrapped in purple foil. “I-uh, I don’t eat chocolate that much anymore, but they don’t have these in America, so I’ve been snacking on a few of these a week.” It lands itself in her hand. “Just like when we were kids, right?”

It’s a Freddo. A fucking Freddo. Her fingers curl around it.

“You once asked me if I thought that things should’ve been different,” she says. “What did you mean by that?”

Harry doesn’t answer. She tries again.

“Why did you leave, Harry?"

“It’s been so long, I don’t even remember.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She takes one step closer. He evades her eyes, like he’s afraid they’ll speak on their own. Her stomach tightens because it’s all starting to make sense. His words. That embrace. These feelings that have always existed between them. “You left because of me.”

It’s not a question, but a sure statement. He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. She slides a hand up to his cheek, forcing him to look at her. When he finally does, she’s sees it. And her gut says it’s not the first time. 

It’s heartache. 

She knows because she sees it every time she looks in the mirror. It’s taken her this long to realize it. That hollow feeling that’s been consuming her, it disappeared the day Harry Styles walked back into her life. Once the anger over what he’d done had subsided, she’s felt nothing but joy since. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” She wants to scream. 

“You made him happy,” is all he says, almost regretfully. “I couldn’t take that away from him.”

“So, you didn’t even consider how I felt? Harry, I would’ve...would’ve–”

“And that’s why I had to leave!” He wipes both hands down his face in frustration. “We would’ve ended up hurting two people we cared too much about.”

“You don’t know that–”

“If I had tried to kiss you that night, would you have let me?” His gaze bores into her. 

Yes. The voice within her screams it over and over. He must already know her answer because he just smiles sadly at the floor. This is why he had done it. He knew that if he had stayed any longer, it would have only been a matter of time before they gave into each other. 

It makes her sick. 

“I figured if I just took myself out the equation, the rest of you would be spared the heartbreak.” He sighs. “And it worked. You and Jared are about to start a life together, Penny’s got her baby. You’re happy.”

She wants to counter him, but she can’t find the strength. “What about you?” she whispers instead.

He tilts his head to the side. “I came back to prove to myself that I could be happy for you.” His jaw slackens, and he doesn’t continue.

She’s toe to toe with him. “And are you?”

The next thing she knows, her back is against the wall, and her fingers are tangled in his hair. His lips feed her, makes her blood come alive like she’s never lived until now. She kisses him with everything she has. Every drop of anger and every ounce of emotion that burns through her veins. His hands keep her body as close to his as possible, yet, they feel so gentle as they caress her curves like she’s made of glass. It feels so right.

And it shouldn’t. 

Just as sudden as it had started, she pushes him away. He doesn’t fight her. Without another word, she leaves his apartment.

*** When she makes it home, Jared is about to get ready for bed. She drops her clothes to the floor, and his soon follow. They fall onto the bed, his teeth gnawing down her jaw while his hand slides down to cup her heat. He asks her if she’s ready once his member is nudged against her opening. She nods, and he pushes into her, just as he’s done many times before.

She tries her best to focus on how good this should feel to have him inside of her, but the more he moves, the more she feels like this is all a mistake. It feels all too similar to when she had given him her virginity. It happened the night after Harry had skipped town. She was upset and wanted to feel something aside from the pain he had caused her. Jared had been there, and things had soon escalated. But it didn’t feel right. Her heart wasn’t in it, and so her body couldn’t give itself the relief it had been searching for.

It hasn’t felt like that since, or maybe she had gotten better at hiding it, just as she’s done with everything else. She had hoped that sex with Jared would put her mind and her heart back into perspective, but instead, she feels even more helpless.

One kiss with Harry had meant more to her than any of this. It fills her with shame because shouldn’t want to be with anyone except Jared, especially when all he’s ever done is love her. 

She doesn’t realize it’s over until he rolls off her with a content sigh, then stumbles into the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, and it’s then she feels the tears start to fill the rim of her eyes. Her thighs clasp together as her humiliation fully sets in. She turns on her side and covers her naked body with the blanket that had been pushed to the foot of the bed. Jared returns minutes later, mumbling a goodnight. If he has something else to say, he doesn’t. It takes to the count of five for him to drift to sleep. 

***

“I need to cancel the engagement,” she says. Ava gives her a circumspect shrug of the shoulders, like she’s trying not to say the wrong thing. Y/n turns to her, hands twiddling the fingers in her lap from stress. “What do you think I should do?”

Ava looks at her, the pity is obvious on her face. “I don’t know, sis.” She rubs her back. “Are you going to tell Jared about you and Harry?”

“I have to.”

***

She doesn’t have the opportunity to talk to Jared until the night of the exhibit opening since he’d been in Spain on a team trip. It’s eating her up, how she hasn’t told him yet, but at least by the end of today she’ll no longer be holding on to something so big. He had promised to come straight to the gallery once he landed back at Heathrow. His flight was set to get in two hours ago, so it’s only a matter of time now. 

More and more people are starting to fill the floor. Most are patrons whom she sees frequently at these events, but there are some new faces mixed in the crowd. She’s lucky that Ava and her grandparents are here to support her, especially when she’ll probably need them afterwards. 

“Hey, don’t look so nervous,” Nan tells her. “The place looks great. You know, I overheard that guy in the red Chanel that he’s interested in buying.” Bless her, Y/n thinks. Nan’s always had a way of diffusing the tension, even when she isn’t aware of it. 

“I’m happy you guys are here,” Y/n says, and she brings her friend in for a hug. 

Nan gives her a confused smile. “Of course, we’re here. We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she proudly declares, and she elbows Gramps in the ribs when he doesn’t contribute. “Honestly, try to look a little alive.”

“I put on a tie, didn’t I?” Gramps rolls his eyes, but then he sends Y/n a wink.  

“Where’s Penelope this evening?” Nan asks, scanning the room, brows furrowing. Y/n feels a sweat break out. She just hopes that Penny will understand when she finds out about her feelings for her ex-boyfriend. It’s been years, sure, but there has to be some kind of friendship code that prohibits this sort of thing. “And where’s that fiancé of yours? He should be here with you.”

“Probably just got stuck in traffic,” Y/n says, but honestly, she’s reveling the extra time she has to prepare.

Nan hooks arms with Ava and Gramps, and they walk the floor while Y/n greets a few of her guests. Her dad is one of them, no surprise there. He pecks her on the side of the head and lets out a perplexed sound as he gazes at all the art. 

“I feel like I should understand this kind of thing by now,” he muses, gesturing to the portrait of naked man made from duct tape and spoons. “Anything after 2003 is lost to me. I just don’t get it.”

“Are you proud of me?” Y/n shocks herself with the question.

Matthew looks stunned himself. “Why would you ask something like that? You know that I am.” He pulls her aside, so they have a little more privacy. “Sweetheart, is everything okay?” There’s worry in his eyes. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” she appeases, “I just wanted to hear it.” Her dad doesn’t respond but hugs her tight. They stay like that for a moment, she’s always felt safe in his arms, until she feels them loosen around her. She looks up at him, his look somewhere else. When she follows it, her heart skips a beat.

“Harry!” Matthew takes his hand and shakes it. “I haven’t seen you in a full two hours!” 

The younger man lets out a slight chuckle. “It’s been unbearable. I just can’t keep away.” He turns to her. “Congratulations.” 

A nod is all she can afford. 

Matthew looks between the two of them, and their situation feels almost familiar. He coughs into his hand and excuses himself as he chases a waiter down the west wing. 

“Can we talk?” Harry asks her. 

She purses her lips to the side. There’s so much she wants to say to him, but she’s afraid of what she might do. 

Against her better judgement, she leads him into her office. She leaves the door open behind her in the off chance that things intensify. She doesn’t need any more guilt on her plate. (But she wishes he wasn’t wearing such a properly fit suit. It’s far too distracting for the seriousness of the situation.)

Leaning against her desk, arms crossed over her chest, she waits for him to speak. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It was both our doing,” she stresses. If you asked her who had kissed who first, she wouldn’t be able to tell you. “We just...got caught up in the moment.” I let my heart dictate my actions.

He looks hurt by her words but doesn’t press her on it. “I should’ve stopped it. I always wondered what it would feel like to kiss you, and when it happened, I...” He shakes his head, and she’s thankful that he’ll never finish that sentence. She’s already heard it in her mind. Hearing out loud would cause both of them too much agony.

“I know,” she rasps. “I can’t stand here and say that I didn’t want it, but–”

“you don’t want to hurt him.” She smiles appreciatively, though, sadly. In another life, maybe they would have a chance. This one doesn’t have a place for them. Even if she ends things with Jared, it doesn’t erase the fact that they’re family. She could never start anything with Harry without him getting hurt. It’s a matter of acceptance now. 

This must have been what Harry had been feeling when he had left. As much as it hurts to remember, she thinks she at least understands it better. 

“I need air,” she says, not wanting to entertain those thoughts further, “join me?” She grabs her phone from her desk. It’s getting late, and she’s starting to worry about Jared. 

They leave her office and start towards the back door that some of her staff use when they want a smoke. She usually avoids it for that reason, but it was getting too stuffy in there. Her lungs will forgive her if she takes this one moment to herself. Her screen unlocks, and just as she’s about to press on her fiancé’s name, Harry pushes the door open and she looks up as the evening breeze brushes her face and then...

“What the hell is this?” She drops her phone to the ground. 

Jared and Penny pull away from each other, but the space between them is nearly nonexistent. The latter meets her with scared eyes that soon begin to fill up. One hand covers her mouth as she chokes on a sob or maybe even fear, while the other clasps over her swollen belly. Y/n’s eyes drift down to it. It clicks. 

“Y/n...” Jared starts, he’s breathing heavily. “Let me–”

“That’s why you couldn’t tell me his name,” she says shakily. It’s directed at Penelope. “You couldn’t tell me because it was him.” The night Penelope had come over unannounced after her alleged date cancellation at the same time Jared had cancelled his own plans. “I’ll make sure he knows what he’s missing.” And that’s exactly what she had done, and right under her nose. They’d have been sneaking around behind her back for months.

“We d-didn’t mean for it to get this far...” Penny tries to explain, she steps out from behind Jared’s shadow. The usually confident blonde has lost several inches of height. She says something else, but it’s like Y/n’s just drowned out all the noise. Her eyes still haven’t left Penelope’s stomach. 

She wants to hate her. She should hate her. But she’s just an innocent victim caught in her parents’ web of lies. Then she grits her teeth at Jared. How far he’s fallen from the pedestal she’d put him on. Now she’s certain that she had inflated his image in her spiraling guilt for having feelings for another man. To think that only minutes ago she was about to plead for his forgiveness for kissing Harry, when all this time he’d been fucking her closest friend. 

“Jared,” his name weighs like venom on her tongue, “I want you out of the apartment by tonight.”

She just runs. Down the alleyway, ignoring all the calls of her name behind her. Harry’s voice is by far the loudest. There’s a thud, followed by a scream. However tempted she is to look back, her legs have developed a mind of their own and lead her towards the busy sidewalk. The bright streetlights burn her eyes, but she doesn’t stop.

She keeps going until she finds the first empty cab. Getting in without a second to hesitate, she closes the door and tells the man behind the wheel to just go. 

“Where to?” he asks her. Her first instinct is to go home and lock herself in her room, but she realizes that she’ll probably have to confront Jared again, and that’s not going to happen. Her second and third options are still at the gallery, completely oblivious to all the night’s revelations. There’s just one other person on that list, so Y/n gives the driver the address. 

***

It takes less than twenty minutes for her to end up in front of a building with bright blue doors and window panels to match. She climbs the steps, one wobbly footstep at a time, but only hesitating once. Her knuckles curl at her sides, until lifting them up to knock against the heavy wood. Light from inside peeks through the curtains.

A woman appears in the open threshold, that faint light from inside creating a halo around her figure. She looks unreal, like something straight out of a storybook. Her ethereal face just as kind as Y/n remembers. It’s the most immaculate she’s ever been. 

Y/n feels herself lose the battle with the emotions she had managed to keep on leash from just one look from her. 

With a whimper, her mouth struggle with the words. “Hi, Mum.”

***

Grace sets her up in the guest room and supplies her with a cup of tea and biscuits. As she’s setting it down on the bedside table, Y/n can’t help but take note of her appearance. It’s been nearly twenty years since she had last seen her mother, but why is that she’s never looked younger? Her eyes no longer have the eternal vacancy that had highlighted her once slack expression. 

She looks happy. 

“Thank god I did the shopping earlier this week, huh?” Grace muses, opening up a new pack of biscuits. Each word to leave her lips feels smooth against her ears. “I’ve developed a bit of a sweet tooth in my old age.” Y/n doesn’t know if she appreciates her efforts to make conversation, but it does give her time to think about what exactly she wants to say. 

They drink their tea in hushed sips, like they’re afraid that any loud slurping might cause some offence. Y/n stares down into the contents of her cup, annoyed that it’s the perfect color. A part of her had wished that she could find something to fault her with. 

“So,” Grace hums, tapping melodically on the porcelain in her hands. “You want to tell me why you’re here?”

Y/n barely lifts her head as her hands strangle the air with frustrated rigidness. “I’ve spent my entire life trying not to become you.” From her decision to follow her dad’s wishes, to keeping appearances for a relationship that she now knows was destined for destruction, she’d made every choice for everyone else. 

Grace doesn’t respond, but her mouth parts with a staggered breath. 

“I wanted to believe that I was happy. I wanted to do what you never did because I didn’t want to hurt the people I was supposed to love.” All the years she’d never confronted these feelings have ultimately resulted to this. “You broke us,” she says, staring her directly in the eyes. “You ruined every image I had of love.” The anxiousness that had put her through hell had to come from this. The truth is, she couldn’t break it off with Jared because she didn’t want to hurt him in the same way that her mother had hurt her dad. That’s it. She ignored every gut feeling that told her it wasn’t right because of the bitterness she felt towards her mother.   

“The choices we make aren’t genetic,” Grace says softly.

“Aren’t they, though?” she shrieks. She bounces to her feet and paces in front of the bed. “Penelope’s mother was the other woman, and now Penelope is pregnant with my fiancé’s baby! You ran away from your family because you couldn’t forget him.” 

By that, she means her mother’s new husband, the one she had left them for. It had been during her last year at university that Y/n had discovered the truth. He had been her professor for her art history class. She recognized him from a picture she had once seen in her mother’s jewelry box. She just hadn’t put two and two together until then. “And I...I can’t forget the person I’ve loved since I was eight. What makes us different, Mum?”

Grace holds her chin close to her body. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “But tell me this. Why haven’t you planned your wedding?”

This causes Y/n’s pacing to cease. She stands at her mother’s knees, blinking rapidly. “How would you know anything that goes on with me?”

Her mother stands up as well. They’re about the same height.  

“I know it’ll make never make up for what I did but believe me. I’ve never stopped trying to be in your lives...even if it was from afar.” Her hand is shaking as she reaches up to cup Y/n’s cheek so she can wipe away her tears. “I was there when you won all your art shows back in school. I was there when you graduated university.” She’s crying her own tears now. “And I was excited for you when you got engaged three years ago.” 

Y/n doesn’t let herself give in. She pulls away. “It was supposed to be a long engagement.”

“Is that what you keep telling yourself?” Grace looks at her pointedly. Y/n’s bottom lip starts to quiver. Her mother grasps her by the shoulders. “Maybe that’s what makes you different from me. You stopped pretending before it was too late, you just hadn’t realized it.”

“Is that supposed to make me a good person?” Y/n challenges. 

“No,” Grace answers honestly, but she sighs with a small smile. “But it makes you a better person than me.”

***

She doesn’t recall ever falling asleep, but she can still feel her mother’s hand stroking her hair as she had laid her head on the pillow. The morning sun shines through the curtains of the unfamiliar room and greet her with slithers of light by her feet. Waking up here feels strange, but she’s experienced comfort that she hasn’t felt in so long.

The rug-lined steps make little to no sound as she makes her way downstairs. From the bottom, she can hear two voices talking in hushed tones from the kitchen. One is unmistakably her mothers, while the other is deep and manly. She isn’t sure how to make approach them, suddenly feeling self-conscious for having intruded. But soon enough, her mum catches sight of her and invites her to take the stool beside her. Y/n walks in, passing her mother’s husband, who smiles kindly at her. She had liked him as a professor before she had found about his private life.

“Good morning,” Grace says. “Lawrence’s just been to the bakery.” She pushes a box full of a variety of goodies. “Eat as much as you want.”

Y/n picks up a croissant and gingerly pulls it apart. She avoids how her mother and her husband gage in her every movement. 

“Did you sleep well?” It’s Lawrence who asks her. She nods. Lawrence and her mother share a look, and through their eyes they seem to converse. It reminds her a lot of how she and Harry had always been able to tell what the other was thinking without having to verbalize. Lawrence finishes up his cup of coffee, then circles around the island and kisses his wife on the cheek. “I’m just going to pop to the store,” he says. She catches the back of his head before he disappears. 

“I thought you said you had just done the shopping?” Y/n asks her mother. The older woman shrugs, continuing to pick at her breakfast. Oh. She sees that there’s apparently more to talk about. Y/n does in fact have a few more questions she wants to ask, if anything more than to talk to someone who knows what she’s going through. She takes a deep breath. “Are you happy?” The words feel awkward as they leave her mouth. Grace looks at her, questioningly. She nods towards the door. “With him?”

“Yes.” 

Y/n’s heart breaks for her father. 

“He’s my best friend,” Grace says dreamily. “I’ve known him all my life. Loved him about the same.” Y/n feels goosebumps startle her skin.

“So,” Y/n treads cautiously, “was he worth it?”

“There are things that I would have done differently when it came to you and your sister, given the chance,” her mother sighs, but when she looks at her with those eyes that are so full of light and what she guesses must only be love, Y/n gets it. “But otherwise I’d choose him all over again.”

***

She knocks impulsively on his front door, not caring if his new neighbors think she’s out of her mind insane. Her limbs are tight with anticipation, especially when she hears the scuffle of feet against well-polished hardwood. Harry stands in the open doorway dressed in a white t-shirt and black joggers, and an adorably confused look floating in his sleepy eyes. But when he registers her before him, it’s like he’d been hit by lightning and suddenly jolted awake.

“Has anything changed?” she asks, almost pleadingly. He just stares at her, frustrating her already exhausted nerves. She hadn’t come all this way after a rollercoaster of a night to not get an answer. “Am I...Am I still all that’s in...” And rests her hand where his heart is.

Her own heart leaps in her chest when his dimples emerge from his cheeks. He lays his own hand over hers, stepping towards her but also pulling her incredibly close. “It’s always been you.” 

And no words have ever made her cry out of shear joy. She laughs, or maybe it’s more of a wet giggle, before throwing her arms around his neck and bringing him in for a scorching kiss. Unlike their first kiss, this one is filled solely with everything they hadn’t allowed themselves to feel. He nips on her bottom lip, and her mouth parts and welcomes his tongue to explore every unchartered inch. He grasps her both her thighs and carries her to his bedroom. 

She can’t believe she’s gone this long without knowing his touch. Every movement of against her skin, and every exploration of forbidden pleasure makes her stomach coil and beg for more. He lays her down on his bed, his body hovering over hers like he’s afraid she might slip away. 

He leans in a little lower, and she gasps when she feels him hard against her hip. “We don’t have to do anything,” he gulps, pressing his forehead to hers. “You’ve been through a lot, and I just want you to know that–” but he doesn’t get to finish because she shuts him up with the fire in her eyes. She loves him for everything he is, even when he’s being selfless to a fault. 

“We’ve waited too long for this,” she breathes against his lips. “Let’s choose us.” 

A low throaty moan surges from of her as he grinds himself against her, sending currents of electrifying energy down to her aching entrance. Her mind becomes cloudier with his every caress. His hot breath against her longing flesh only intensifies her need.

“Please,” she begs, fingers working on the hem of his shirt. “I want you. God, please I want to feel you.” 

He chuckles softly as she whines, pecking her again. “Patience, love,” he teases. His lips glide down to her ear, his breath sending shivers down her inflamed body. “Show me where you want me.” 

Taking reign of his hand and guiding down the front of her front, she smirks at him. His pants become unbelievably tight as she lets him linger over her chest, her head falling back when the warmth of his hand flicks over her pebbled nipple. “You want me between your pretty little tits? Is that what my girl wants?” His girl. Nothing in this moment could sound so perfect than the words to have just left his lips. It’s enough for her to want to bring him in for another impassioned kiss, but she restrains, shaking her head mischievously as he squeezes gently on her breast. She leads him further down, his palm sliding down her abdomen. 

“Here.” She slots her fingers through the spaces between his and their tips graze the base of her dress, toying with the flimsy material until finally slipping beneath. He groans as his skin comes into contact with her pussy emanating all that delicious heat.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” She rubs against him just enough for him to feel her center through her panties, and he swears to her that he might come then and there. Wasting no time, she pulls his shirt over her head, only breaking their kiss to appreciate all the tattoos on his sculpted chest. When she’d seen them before, it had only been for a quick few seconds, and she’d been far too flustered to take anything more than a peek. But now she can’t help herself, and she lets her fingers dance across the ink, the point of her nails tracing over the edge of every design. She spends the most time on the moth, or maybe it’s a butterfly, she couldn’t say. 

All she knows is that something about it makes her feel at peace, like she’ll always be safe as long as he's there beside her. She tears her eyes away from his chest to find him looking at her as though she were everything that’s right with the world. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, and she just beams, eyes looking back at him with such sincerity. 

He kisses the side of her mouth before descending along her body He takes his time, his lips pressing over every possible inch of her, leaving no surface neglected. Where his hands had been prior, he takes an erect mound in his mouth, tongue swirling around in through its covering. Each touch leaves her breathless, her back arching in intense anticipation the further down he goes. When his nose nudges at the bottom of her skirt, she lets out another frustrated whine, and he chuckles softly at how her abdomen sucks in as the stubble on his chin prickles goosebumps across her skin. 

“Please, just. . .” and the final remains of her inhibitions drain from the tips of her fingers and toes. “I want your cock inside me.” 

“Christ, you’ve got a filthy mouth.” And he tears her dress from her body and pulls her panties down her silky legs, leaving her completely bare before his eyes. From a pale green, the color of his irises darkens with a fierce and pounding desire. It sends vibrations down to her pussy and all she wants is for him to bury his face in her dripping arousal. She bites harshly on her lip once he licks between her slick folds. “So sweet,” he mutters, his lips slipping through the barriers to find her sensitive little nub. “I could just stay here forever.”

“Harry. . .” she gasps, fisting the sheets as her hips lift off the mattress. “It feels so good.” Her legs hang over his shoulders as he encourages her to ride his face until she’s begging to release all over his tongue. “Oh god, don’t stop.” 

One of his long fingers that had been drawing small little circles on the inner part of her thigh smooths over her damp skin until it forges its way into her glistening heat. The other hand moves down his own figure, undoing the button of his jeans and sliding past the waistband of his boxers. 

As the knot in her stomach twists with tremendous force, it pushes her closer and closer to the edge. He inserts another finger, the two digits piston in and out of her, working harmoniously with his skilled mouth. She screams out, her back arching to an almost impossible degree. It all becomes too much for her, bursts of light flashing behind her eyelids.  

“I’m gonna come,” she moans, cheek pressed deep into the pillow, eyes shut tightly to welcome the stars as she lets go with cacophonous convulsions. 

“That’s my good girl, come all over my tongue. That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He climbs back up her body, a content smile awaiting him when their faces become level with each other. Another exchange of ardent kisses, and she feels herself tingle at the taste of her on his lips. Even after her orgasm, she already craves for another, but this time she wants nothing more but to feel him stuffed inside of her. She wraps a leg around his hip, the edge of her foot pressed against the side of his ass as she presses her core into his bulge. 

“I need to be inside of you.” He leaps off the bed to push off the last pieces of constrictive clothing. His cock springs free, flushed red at the tip and just desperate for her amorous touch. 

And he’s big, she had always had an inkling, but to see it in the flesh is a whole new sensation quivering between her thighs. “It’s so big,” her thoughts become vocalized. 

With his knees back onto the bed, she grabs his shoulders and pulls him down lower, his elbows planking on either side of her. “Feel how hard I am for you?” He hisses as her warm hand wraps around him, her thumb swiping along a dribble of precum. She lathers him in his own arousal. “Think you can handle my cock?” 

She’s completely in awe, and her mind runs untamed with fantasies of how it would feel hitting that special spot deep in her cunt, every rigid vein carving its impression in her walls. “You know I can,” she dares him. 

“Fuck.” He kisses her deeply, his hand taking ahold of his cock and glazing it with the remnants of her last climax and gliding just between her wet folds.  “One last time–” he swallows hard as he pulls away from his lips, “–are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I...”

Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding worth more than any spoken language as she cups his cheeks. 

The entire length of him slides into her tight hole until he bottoms out, his balls pressing against her taut ass. She feels undeniably full, never having experienced such exhilaration in her life as Harry’s bare cock stretches her out completely. 

“Just slid right in,” he grunts, dropping his face into the crook of her neck. He bites down and sucks greedily on the spot until he’s made his mark. She gasps in mild pain, but it feels too good to know that she can finally be his. He pulls all the way out, before slamming back in with ease, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as her walls flutter around him. “It feels like you were made for me” She feels marvelously tight, squeezing him for all he’s worth. All she can do is nod, her voice caught in her throat as his thrusts become harder and faster.  “It’s all mine now, your pussy, your lips. You’re all mine.” 

“I’m yours, all yours, Harry.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders. “God, your big cock feels so good in my tight pussy.” Nails dig into his back as they run down and carve crescents into his flexed and sweaty muscles. 

They move flawlessly in sync as she rises up to greet his every thrust with just as much excitement and fervor. Both their bodies are on fire, a pressure building up at their very core and threatening to unravel at any moment. His balls tighten, and he knows he won’t last for much longer. He looks down between them, his cock completely soaked with her with the most sinful sounds resonating whenever he pushes in and out of her delightful heat. “I love you,” he breathes into her ear, his fingers indenting into the plush of her hips. He loses any sense of rhythm he might have started out with, his movements becoming more and more urgent as he chases after his high. 

“I love you.” Her second orgasm fast approaches, she feels it thrill every one of her nerves as though currents of electricity were running through her veins. She’s so close, and her hand slips between their sweaty chests to rub desperately on her clit. Her head is spinning with an aspiration to reach the brink of ecstasy. 

“Come all over my cock,” he pleads as he pushes into her with incredible force. “Want to feel you come around me.”

And that’s it for her. A wave of pleasure crashes over her and she cries out with a high-pitched moan. Her legs hugging him so tightly that he barely manages to move. She rides it out, rolling her hips to feel him continuously poke that special spot. Soon enough, her mind is on a cloud, the rest of her body soaking up the bliss of the moment.

His movements only become more erratic, and the breath leaves her body once he releases inside of her. Hot white ribbons shoot out and paint her walls with the image of a sensational love. It warms her center, her lips turning up in a lazy smile as he remains within her even after the final drop has left his tip. Once they’re heaving chests calm to a natural pace, he collapses on top of her, arms willing their way between her and the mattress to gather her into a tender embrace. She scratches the back of his head and sighs contently.  

“To think we could’ve been doing that for,” and she counts the years on each one of her fingers.

Harry chuckles in between her breasts, then reaches up and plants a quick but sweet kiss to her lips. “How long are you going to be holding onto that one?” She pretends to think, her mouth quirking to the side as her brows furrow in contemplation. “Until we make up for all that wasted time.” 

***

“I got you something.” She looks up at him, her body still wrapped in his arms as they lay naked in his bed. Memories of what feels like another life flip through her head.

“Is this what déjà vu feels like?” 

He rolls his eyes. “Do you want it or not?” 

Smiling, she kisses enthusiastically and nods her head. He gets up, and she has to stop herself from frowning when they lose all contact. She sinks into the sheets and waits impatiently for him to come back. Listening to him rummage through his closet, then to the growling of her tummy–and she makes a quick mental note to ask him to order something for them in a while––she tries to relive every detail from the last few hours in her head. She didn’t know that sex was supposed to feel so good.

“You told me that you hadn’t drawn in almost ten years,” he states, making his way back to the bed, but this time, with a bag clutched in his hands. He places it in her lap, then slips between her and the headboard, arms going back to their initial position. “Maybe it’s time you started back up.”

Y/n opens the enclosed wrappings. Inside the bag is a new sketchbook and a carton of 9H pencils. She carefully grazes her fingers above them. There’s a feeling in her chest, like she’s just been reunited with an old friend. 

“But what would I even draw?” She’d lost all sight of that part of her life, and it seems unlikely that those creative juices will just come trickling back to her now. 

Harry kisses the side of her head, and she leans into him easily.

“Whatever inspires you.” 

It’s just that easy. She closes her eyes and reflects on what has always made her feel any bit positive. Ava and her bluntness; her dad and his sense of duty to his family; Nan and Gramps and their playful bickering; Nan and her proclivity for gossip; Gramps and his hatred for ties. All of them had been a comfort to her, even when she hadn’t realized it. They were part of what had kept her afloat.

Feeling Harry’s heartbeat press up against her back, she knows that she’ll never have to worry about drowning. She opens her sketchbook to its first clean page and lets herself be happy. 

***

“Thanks for meeting us here,” Jared says, offering her a modest grin. “I would’ve understood if you didn’t want to.” Penny nods beside him. Jared had texted her and asked if she would meet them for lunch, so that they could talk. At first, Y/n didn’t think that necessary. What was the point when it was all out in the open now? But with some convincing from Harry, she realized that she had to confront this.

“There’s no moving on if we don’t talk about it.” Y/n takes the seat across from Penny. She looks at the girl she’d consider a sister, studying her rounded and healthier features. Pregnancy looks good on her. “You look good.” 

Penny smiles thankfully. “So do you.”

They talk about everything, even the stuff that feels like it should hurt. But it doesn’t. Clarity exists where it hadn’t before. She tells them that about Harry, and apparently it isn’t much of a shock to anyone, which shocks her. Jared then admits to having had all these doubts about their relationship but had stuck through it because of his own insecurities. That had had hit close to home for Y/n. It’s somewhat of a relief that she hadn’t been the only one who felt that what they had was temperamental. 

“You were there for me when I was at my worst, and for that, I’ll always love you,” Jared sighs, reaching across the table and taking her hand. “But...”

“That’s all we were meant to be.”

He nods sadly, pulling back. His other arm is around Penny’s chair, and Y/n can see his fingers playing with the ends of her ponytail. 

Penny must notice this, and she quickly shrugs him away. “Sorry,” she mutters.  

Y/n shakes her head. “It’s fine,” she waves it off. “This was good. At least now we can all carry on with our lives.” She gets out of her chair. “Good luck,” she says to the both of them. Then she looks directly at Penny. “I know you’re worried about making all the same mistakes as your mum, but...” she smiles, “someone said to me that mistakes aren’t genetic. I know you. And I know how much you love your baby. Just promise me you’ll be there for her.”

With that she turns towards the exit. Before she can get far, however, she feels a hand grab her own. She looks back, and it’s Penny. Her eyes are teary, and her chest lifts erratically. “Do you think that...” she swallows, “...that you’ll ever forgive me?”

“Do I still get to be called auntie?” 

Penny lets out a stifled giggle. “Yes.”

Y/n touches her comfortingly on the shoulder. “Then, one day.”

She walks out of there feeling completely at peace with herself.

***

Two Years Later

The newest exhibit proves to be a hit. It’s smaller than its predecessors, this time only containing the work from a single artist. 

She and Harry walk hand-in-hand, greeting all of guests and just enjoying each other’s company. Gramps isn’t moping as much as he usually does, and she thinks it’s because Nan’s bought him a clip-on tie that doesn’t strangle him around the neck. Ava and Nan are gossiping with some potential investors, while her dad tries to apologize on their behalf. 

On the other side, her mum and Lawrence discuss color theory in relation to one of the spotlight pieces. She catches a glimpse of the civility between her parents when they catch each other’s eyes from across the room. 

“I think it’s the gallery’s best showcase yet,” Harry tells her and kisses her on the lips. “Really, I don’t see how anything might top this.”

Y/n laughs. “You’re just trying to get laid.”

Harry wags his eyebrows. “Is it working?” She doesn’t need to give him an answer with words, so instead, she pulls him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips meet in another sweet kiss. 

They stop in front of the piece in the very back, the one that’s drawn in the most viewers. They squeeze through the polluted crowd until they’re close enough to the front. He wraps his arms around her, and they both admire its beauty. 

Two kids laid out on the grass; eyes closed with content smiles on their faces. The sky above them, a product of their combined imaginations as well as the excitement of hopes and dreams. 

Below the canvas is a placcard with the painting’s information. 

Y/n Styles, Purple Clouds and Tangerine Skies.

***

A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

#harry styles #harry style imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles au #one direction #writing

[the-lady-writes-what]

21. Hizashi Yamada and Shouta Aizawa

          Theme: Fox spirits/gods

          Kinks: Threesome, double penetration, biting, marking, praise kink, oral      (receiving), breeding kink (if you squint), polyamory/polyandry

Sorry this is a little late. My brain was like, I know I said I was going to make these short one-shots but how about we make them bigger? 

(The gif has nothing to do with the story, obvi)

Masterlist

You climbed up the many steps leading to the shrine. This was your last resort. The humiliation induced by your vicious ex-boyfriend still left gashes in your heart. Your curse was that you fall in love too quickly and are blind to all faults until it's too late. Your most recent misadventure in love had been so cunning, so cruel that you wasted three years of your life with a man who was, in the words of your best friends, a massive cunt. Manipulative, emotionally abusive, but the cherry on top was the rumor he spread about you having an S.T.D. you'd gotten while cheating on him. Mind you, he was the one with the sexually transmitted disease. You were spared because you hadn't slept with him in recent months. The sting was a deadly blow to your self-confidence and trust in men.

After months of battling depression and anxiety, your aunt suggested a remote village trip and visit this exact shrine. Upon arrival, you were acutely aware of all the women either paired off or visibly pregnant. You noticed this at arrival. It was small at first—a lot of couples paired off, two by two like swans. Then, when you approached the marketplace and asked for directions, you noticed how the shopkeeper was pregnant, along with her sister and sister-in-law. There weren't many single men or single women as far as you could tell. Even a male couple looked happy.

You wanted to burn this town to ashes.

It was insulting, really. You came all this way just to have happiness and love shoved in your face while you, the miserable wretch, were forced to pine. You tried not to scowl as happy couples passed you by. Keeping your eyes focused ahead of you was all you could do to avoid knocking the smiles off their faces. Now, here you were, mounting the steps to a shrine shrouded by pines and red maples. Leaves rustled on the steps, which drew your attention. Fallen leaves littered the stairs and the shrine's sacred grounds, but that seemed awfully unauspicious. Was there no groundskeeper, no shrine maiden, no priest to clear them away? As you reached half-way up the hill, you noticed the smell in the air. Not a bad smell, but it was pervasive all around. The scent invaded your senses. It smelled a lot like jasmine and patchouli. You didn't think much of it and thought it was just someone burning incense at the shrine.

Two masculine figures lounged in the garden. One looked indifferent while the other moped. The latter was blonde; it matched the protruding fox ears on his head and the fluffy, swishing tail patting his thigh. He rested his head on the lap of the former, who appeared much like him except his hair, ears, and tail were black as ink. This one wore an indifferent expression. He looked out into the garden as he made a mental list of all the things he had to do around the shrine. Weeds had encroached where they weren't wanted during the summer and now choked the garden. Fall arrived early this year and made the trees shed their leaves too soon. The steps, as well as the grounds and roof, were covered in maple leaves. The inside needed moping, shining, dusting, and replacing oil lamps. There was still the matter of the hole in the sanctuary's ceiling that needed mending. But was there any human around to do it? No. The last priest died over fifty years ago. Shouta, the black fox, and Hizashi, the blonde fox, had been left alone to answer the whims of pilgrims.

It was almost thankless work. Ensuring happy marriages, love matches, and fertility was hard work when one was forced to clean their own shrine. As long as they were tied to this spot, Hizashi and Shouta had no other choice. The only thing more embarrassing than a shrine-god having to clean up his own shrine was a homeless one.

"I'm starting to miss the old man," said Hizashi. "He was so much fun to drink with. At least he had a sense of humor. Unlike the other fuddy-duddies, they tried to send us."

A few months after the last priest's death, his congregation tried to settle another to take his place. The successor was stern and took his job too seriously for Hizashi's liking. 'He's too dull,' Hizashi used to complain. Shouta wasn't much of a fan either, but it was more due to Hizashi's constant sighs and complaints that drove him to chase the priest away. Shouta ensured that no other settled down for too long. As far as the pair was concerned, the priest who died fifty years ago was their last worthy priest.

"It's so boring and lonely up here. There's no one to play with," Hizashi complained.

Shouta rolled his eyes. Hizashi was in one of his moods again. Boredom took a toll more on him than his 'co-worker' and sometimes lover. It was easy to get bored of making love for fifty-odd years while still working a thankless job. Only occasionally did some old lady or grateful newlywed came to offer incense and drop a donation. Whenever there was money, even a scrap, either Shouta or Hizashi would venture down the hill to mingle with the humans for a little bit. Men or women often flirted with them, but they couldn't decide on a partner they could both enjoy. Instead, everyone was declined.

"Maybe we could call up Nemuri and see what she's up to?" Hizashi suggested.

Shouta gave a flat answer. "No."

Hizashi pouted and went back to his pouting.

"You're no fun," said Hizashi.

"I know." Shouta petted Hizashi's ears to placate him.

Suddenly, a shudder rippled through both of them. They looked at one another. A smile quickly spread across Hizashi's face.

"We have a visitor!" He jumped up at once and dusted himself off.

"We have visitors all the time," said Shouta, but this was a lie. Visitors became fewer after the summer once pilgrims got their desire.

"But did you feel that, Shouta? A poor, miserable, broken-hearted young woman just crossed the path of our statues, and she's heading this way. Don't you feel it? Oh, the poor dear?"

The shrine-gods knew the hearts of all those who entered. It was their specialty to work in all the matters of the heart and the bedroom. Sniffing out broken hearts was a talent they both shared, but Hizashi was the more sensitive one. A fractured heart held an aura that most humans couldn't detect by sensing it alone. Sometimes it was a trifling matter. This time, however, Hizashi felt far more significant pain. Betrayal called out to him like a widow. He hadn't even seen the woman's face but could smell her despair, hate, and ache from miles away. She needed help.

Shouta felt it too. He pitied the human and wondered what brought her to that state. His curiosity was peaked, which didn't happen very often, if at all. Her presence was a sad one, and it threatened to taint the whole shrine with her negativity. Negativity drew hungry ghosts and pesky imps like moths to a flame. All of that meant more work for him. Aside from wanting to protect what little dignity his shrine had left, it was his duty to help this miserable wretch.

"Can we introduce ourselves, Shouta?" Hizashi's bright green eyes twinkled with mischief, hope, and something else Shouta could not easily define.

Shouta weighed the pros and cons in his head. By the time he came to a decision, he could hear the woman walking into the courtyard. Her voice was carried on the autumn wind. She was curious too, likely wondering why a shrine was seemingly left abandoned and in disarray. It would be rude to let her go forlorn after a trek up the hill.

You passed under the second torii gates and a second pair of fox statues. There were no lion-dogs as you saw in most other shrines, but this one had a strong love for foxes apparently. You looked at the water in the pavilion used for ceremonial purification. You cringed at the slightly brackish water and used very little to purify your hands. As soon as you got to the nearest restroom, you were going to scrub your hands raw. Walking down the narrow path leading to the inner sanctuary, you kept noticing very odd things. The shrine was in massive disrepair with cracks, debris, and brackish water. It wasn't a complete eyesore, but something did not feel right. There was not a soul you could find; loneliness pervaded every inch of the place. You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself as you walked on. You found the spot where wishers and pilgrims wrote their prayers on wooden plaques to hang them up. While there were plenty of rustling in the wind, they weren't very many. You scrawled your desire for a loving partner, happiness, and to forget the man who wounded you so deeply.

You hung the plaque alongside the three dozen blowing in the wind. You went further ahead to pay your respect at the small public shrines built on the side of the shrine's complex. There were only two buildings. One foot across, seven feet long, and six feet tall, they were impressively big for small shrines. These were the only buildings uncovered by leaves and pines branches. You marveled briefly at their pristine appearance. In your bag, you brought along the incense your aunt prescribed. You retrieved two sticks of carnation incense and dipped the stick end in the bowl of sand. You lit the incense, clapped your hands twice, and said a prayer. You did this twice at both shrines.

You turned your back to face going all the way down the hill again when you spotted something at the corner of your eye. At first, it seemed like your mind was playing tricks on you. Out of the corner, you thought you saw a ball of glowing blue light flicker in the window of the main shrine. The main shrine was off to limits to everyone but the priests and shrine maidens. This was where the kami, the god, was housed and worshipped by the clergy. You turned to see if what you saw had really been there. Another flash of blue flickered in the window and then another. You swallowed hard, but curiosity pinched at you. You wanted to know. With a quick glance around, you wandered over to the main shrine.

You cut over the grass and walked into the oratory. There were no voices or footsteps other than your own. You called out to anyone who would be listening, yet no one answer was given. Your voice carried down the halls. However, just because no one answered, it didn't exclude the idea altogether that no one listened. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you drew closer to what you assumed was the forbidden connecting hall that led into the inner sanctuary, which was supposed to be off-limits to the public. As far as you could tell, no one was around to stop you or tell you no.

You took a deep breath and crossed the threshold. Your heart pounded inside your chest. The halls were so dark you had to grope around just to find a wall. You tried to turn around and head out only to get yourself more lost. It was as if you were stuck in a maze. Every direction looked the same, and turning around seemed to make matters worse.

In desperation, you called out, "Hello?"

Still no answer. You trekked further in the hopes of running into someone, anyone, and get them to show you the way out. You hoped that they had a flashlight on hand. You would barely make out your hand in front of your face if you held it up.

Another flash of blue had you whirling on your face. You whipped your head in that direction. Shivers ran down your spine as you felt a pair of eyes bore a hole into the back of your head. It didn't feel like something glaring at you, but the sensation frightened you nevertheless. You took off in the direction of the blue flash. Yet another appeared up ahead, further along than the previous. You started running after it. More appeared, and each grew more distinct in shape and color than the last. You managed to get close enough to hear the hiss and flicker of its fire. You stared at a ball of blue flames with its tongue licking the air. It disappeared into nothingness and reappear off in a different direction.

You found it hovering in front of a set of shoji doors. It disappeared once more. Lights flickered behind the rice paper. You pried your fingers against the seams and pushed the door open. Lamps lined the walls. They burned with pale blue and white flames behind their screens. You approached with caution and gripped your bag straps tight.

Wooden floors creaked beneath your feet. You mentally cursed yourself for dragging your shoes inside the holy place, but the longer you glanced around the room, the more it seemed that this was not an ordinary shrine. The room had a lower portion accessible by three steps, and a red mat covered much of the space. A shrine rested on the floor on the other side. In each of the four corners was a vase that held carnation flowers. Somehow, all the flowers were in perfect condition and thrived in the forgotten space. You stepped carefully towards the shrine when you felt something behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. Not something, but someone and just a someone but someones. It wasn't the fact that you finally met another person at the shrine or that they were men that gave you alarm. It was the ears sticking out on top of their heads, the tails swishing back and forth behind them, and the regal manner in which they bore themselves. The one in a black yukata folded his arms across his chest and looked quite serious, probably because you were trespassing. The other man wore a red yukata, but he appeared far more friendly than his companion. He smiled broadly at you as if you hadn't just broken one of the most sacred, unspoken rules about behavior at a shrine. You swallowed hard and bowed from the waist.

"I am so sorry for intruding, sirs. I-I didn't mean to intrude…I got lost and couldn't find my way out. I'll leave immediately if you just show me the way. I promise I'll never come back and disturb another shrine so long as I live!"

"Easy there, little sparrow. No need to get riled up," said the friendlier one.

Slowly, you raised yourself up. You looked at them again, still bewildered by their ears and tail. They were either the strangest priests you were likely to ever come across, or they were—

"What business do you have here?" Asked the more somber fellow.

"I-I" You choked on your words. "I had a boyfriend who did rotten things to me. I was hoping to, to, um, to…" Your voice trailed off.

You were too distracted by the fox ears on their heads. They looked too real to be fake, but how was that possible?

The blonde one snapped his fingers.

"My eyes are down here, love," he chuckled.

Your cheeks darkened with embarrassment. "Please, if you could just tell me how to get out of here, I'll leave you alone."

Your first instinct would be to bolt for the door. When you glanced behind them, the doors had been shut when you remember having left them open. Were these demons standing in front of you? Is that why the shrine seemed so empty?

"Leaving so soon? But you haven't even heard our proposal yet?" Said the blonde.

Your brows furrowed. "P-Proposal?"

The black-haired fox-eared man slipped something out of his yukata sleeve. It was your wood plaque you left hanging outside. His ebony eyes gleaned over your wish and read it aloud.

"I don't know who will answer this, but I want to find true love, a life partner who will never stick a knife in me and twist. A man, or frankly anyone who will love and care for me. Please bring me happiness and make me forget about the man who abused me for three years. Is this your wish, Y/N?"

Your face drained of color. "How do you know my name?"

"We have our methods. I'm Hizashi. The dour one is Shouta. It's lovely to meet you."

"W-what are you?" You ventured to ask.

"We're the shrine gods. It's been lonely up here for a while now. The priests haven't been to our liking for the last fifty years, so we're forced to take care of the place ourselves, which is rather insulting if you think about it," said Hizashi.

"And…what are you the gods of?"

"Love, fertility, happy marriages, love-matches, all that fun stuff," answered Hizashi.

"Are you the reason why every other woman I met in town is pregnant?"

Hizashi answered, "Of course. We've been blessing this region with successful pregnancies for centuries. There hasn't been but a handful of miscarriages in all these years thanks to us."

"We're not the cause of the pregnancies if that's what that face is for, Y/N. We just ensure that the infant comes to term and reduce sterility in men and women," said Shouta, who had apparently been studying your face very closely.

Your blush darkened.

"Otherwise, this town would be full of half-fox spirits roaming around, wouldn't it?" Hizashi laughed.

"Okay…" You thought for a moment about what you were going to say next. This was all too surreal, but this was better than feeling miserable. "But what do you want from me?"

Hizashi and Shouta exchanged looks. A soft smile crept upon Shouta's face.

"We'll grant you your wish. On a few conditions," Shouta began. "As you can tell, our shrine is in dire need of—what do you humans call it nowadays? T.L.C.?"

"Tender love and care?" You said.

"Yes. That. Our shrine has been in disrepair for some time, but as much as the villagers enjoy making offerings, they aren't too keen on cleaning it. As you can imagine, it's rather embarrassing cleaning up your own shrine," Shouta continued.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll get me a decent boyfriend if I clean your house?"

"We can do better than, little sparrow," said Hizashi.

You felt his eyes wander your body. You couldn't help but shiver. Out of fear or anticipation, you couldn't tell at this point. You might have been hallucinating for all you knew.

"How would you like to be the wife of a god?" Hizashi laughed again. "Or two?"

"W-Wife? I just wanted a boyfriend who loved me. I don't remember asking for polyandry. Besides, why would you tie yourselves to someone human and mortal."

"We can cross that bridge when we come to it," said Hizashi.

"What do you say? Help us repair the shrine, and you'll have something better than a boyfriend. It sounds like a good deal, doesn't it?" Asked Shouta.

"Yeah," you said incredulously. "A little too good to be true. What's the catch?"

"You would have to live here and 'maintain' the shrine's cleanliness and reputation. We could get someone to teach you to perform the kagura dance. Learn a few things that would make you useful around the shrine and to the villagers. A shrine maiden, for all intents and purposes."

That did even things out. You weren't tied to your apartment, especially since it still had the ghosts of your past boyfriends lingering in there. You didn't go to college, and you hated your job. Becoming basically a shrine maiden and marry a pair of fox-gods seemed like a step-up from your hum-drum life.

"Hypothetically, if I agreed to all that, how would we go about making it official? Are we to have a big wedding? Does Ōkuninushi* have to be involved? Is there supposed to be a ceremony we have to follow?" The questions tumbled out of your mouth one by one in your unusual state of mind.

"So many questions. To answer all of them in one go, here it is. All you have to do is enjoy yourself," said Hizashi.

Before you could ask what he meant, Hizashi closed the gap between you. His mouth was suddenly on yours, and his hands settled on your backpack's straps. Your load was unburdened by your shoulders. Hizashi's hands ran through your hair, holding your head hostage. You heard Shouta's footsteps come along beside you. He worked your shoes off your feet and your socks as well. When he arose, Shouta's hands found your waist. He snatched your head away from Hizashi to kiss you himself. From there on out, it was a frenzy of hands, mouths, and tongues teasing you.

The first thing to go was clothes. Hizashi and Shouta worked together to get rid of the annoying layers that kept them from feeling up more of your skin. Your autumn outfit suited the chilly weather outside but was ill-fitted for their current needs. Their hands peeled off each layer of clothing until you wore nothing but your bra and panties. Somewhere between removing each item of clothing, one of them summoned an extra-large tatami mat out of thin air. You landed softly on the sleeping mat, cradled between them. Their kimonos were disposed of in the same manner as your modern clothes, with one exception. They were both utterly naked underneath their yukatas. Your blush spread down to the top of your chest at the mere sight of their hardening members.

"You look so pretty blushing like that, Y/N," said Hizashi.

He took his place between your legs. Hizashi playfully snapped the hem of your panties. He seemed to enjoy your small yelp as the elastic snapped against your skin. Shouta sat on his knees and pulled your back flush against his chest. He unclipped your bra and tossed it aside. Hizashi pulled at your underwear until the fabric tore. You opened your mouth in protest, but all the words stopped in your throat to make room for the moan. Shouta palmed your breasts and tweaked your nipples into stiff peaks. Your ruined panties were forgotten as soon as Hizashi settled one of your legs over his shoulder, and he ran his long tongue along your slit.

"It's been a while since we've laid with a woman. You'll have to forgive us if we're a bit rusty," said Hizashi.

Hizashi ran his tongue along your slit again and hummed at your taste. His tongue dove between your folds and pinched your clit. Meanwhile, Shouta kept at his administrations to your chest and kissing your shoulders. You arched your back when you felt the tiniest pinprick of sharp teeth graze your skin. Shouta smirked at you and gave you a nice look at the fangs he had. Hizashi had the same situation going on. You could feel his teeth carefully caress your sensitive bits.

"Do you like my teeth, Y/N?" Asked Shouta.

You bit your lower lip and nodded.

"Then you're really going to like this." Shouta lowered his head to the spot where your neck met your shoulders.

He bit down, but not hard enough to draw blood. His hands continued to tease you while his mouth and teeth left dozens of love bites all over your neck. Hizashi pulled his head up from between your legs. He watched for a moment how your face twisted in ecstasy as Shouta marked your lovely skin. It didn't take long for the idea to get in his head that he should do the same. Hizashi brought his teeth against your inner thigh and nipped. He repeated the process over and over until both of your legs bore his teeth marks and hickies. You squirmed for them. Heat traveled in two directions, to your head and your lower belly. Hizashi resumed his task of fucking you with his tongue and added two fingers to help him in this endeavor. Soft squelches from you gushing over him was enough to make you never want to leave.

"You're so pliable, and your breasts are breathtaking," Shouta sighed next to your skin. "Are you about to cum, Y/N?"

You bucked your hips to the rhythm of Hizashi eating you out. Slowly, you nodded. Your fingers clutched Hizashi's head, mindful of his ears.

"Then," Shouta whispered the next part in your ear. "Cum."

Hizashi worked faster, pumping and licking your cunt. You grabbed for Shouta as pleasure ripped down your spine. Hizashi and Shouta shoved you face-first down the precipice. Your walls clenched tight around Hizashi's fingers and tongue while your jaws hung open. No one else could make you moan as loud as you did. And likely, nobody else ever will.

When Hizashi came up for air, his mouth and chin were drenched your essence. He leaned up, but instead of kissing you, he planted his lips on Shouta's. In turn, Shouta licked Hizashi's mouth to get a taste of you for himself while he was at. Shouta reached down and played with your clit while making-out with Hizashi briefly. You felt their members stand proudly against your body, and your inner walls clenched at the thought of one or both filling you to the brim.

Shouta and Hizashi kissed one more time. Hizashi peeled you off of Shouta just long enough for the latter to stretch out on his back. You were turned around. Shouta gestured with a 'come-hither' crook of his finger, and you crawled towards him. His hands grabbed your hips, made you straddle him, and pressed the blunt head of his cock against your slippery, wet cunt.

"Are you ready?" He asked. It was child's play holding you up like that with his cock more than ready to impale you.

You nodded your head. Shouta slowly, carefully pulled you down on his cock. It stretched you open again. You sank down on him until you were fully seated. You tried not to let your eyes roll into the back of your head. Shouta then grabbed your shoulders and pulled you down. Hizashi was right behind you, fisting his cock. He wasn't as big, but he was just as long. Hizashi placed his other hand on the small of your back. You felt his cock probe the area where Shouta was already preoccupied. Something clicked in your head. Shouta grabbed and clutched your hands. Beads of sweat ran down the side of your face while Hizashi brushed his cuck against your cunt.

"Look at me," said Shouta. "Look at me. You're going to be fine. We'll make you feel so good."

"So very good," Hizashi cooed.

You tightened your grip on Shouta's hands. You stared at his face as Hizashi pushed forward, stuffing you close to the point of damage. You were well-lubed up to take both of them, but in practice, this was your first time having two men fill you at the same time. Inch by careful inch, Hizashi pushed into your cunt. When he was fully seated, he let out a long sigh.

"I can feel both of you against, and it feels so good." Hizashi shuddered.

"Can you move?" Shouta asked Hizashi.

"Give me a minute."

You were given a few minutes reprieve, and in that time, you felt your lower belly swell. You felt them stretch you to impossible measures. Though tears stained your cheeks, you never felt more pleasure. The mixture of both pleasure and pain blurred the lines. It wasn't long before you were being pushed and pulled in either direction, their cocks fucking you deep.

Wet skin slapped against skin. The men you were sandwiched between grunted and moaned your praises at your ability to take them both so deep. There weren't any words you could say with any cohesion. Words became meaningless when being fucked into oblivion. Hizashi and Shouta worked in tandem. When one pulled out, the other plowed right in. Both cocks kissed your cervix as they drove themselves, and each other, wildly into your cunt. You felt fluids rush between your legs that mingled with your sweat. You squeezed Shouta's hands and buried your face in his chest.

Higher, higher, and higher still, you were flying. You bit Shouta's chest as their cocks thrust in and out. Your brain turned into mush at this point. All you cared about was getting fucked on their cocks forever. Little else mattered beyond that.

"I'm close," said Shouta.

"M-Me too," said Hizashi.

"Then let's finish it."

Without another word, they started to drive faster than before, and you thought it was impossible. Shouta returned your bruising grip and rammed upwards to meet Hizashi's downward thrust. They both moved quickly and headed towards coming undone inside you. You felt it too. Your walls spasmed and fluttered around both their cocks, though the stretch made it hard to tell. They shifted into an erratic pace rather than a smooth move. Their cocks drove harder into your cunt. Animalistic grunts filled the room as both Shouta and Hizashi slammed home. You screamed your climax just at the same time they did. You kept screaming while ropes of cum warmed your belly. You were moaning into Shouta's chest as you felt buckets of their seed filled your womb. There was nothing for you to wonder about why they were the gods of fertility and pregnancy.

Hizashi pulled all the out first. He massaged your shoulders while Shouta lifted your hips off him. Hizashi's long fingers dabbed some of the cum dripping down your thighs and pushed it back inside your weeping pussy.

"You gotta keep it in, ya, little sparrow. You want to be a good wife to your husbands, don't you?" Hizashi cooed.

*Ōkuninushi- mentioned in both the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki as the god of nation-building, agriculture, business, medicine, love, marriage, and fortune

#kinktober #kinktober week #my hero academia fanfiction #kinktober my hero academia edition #reader fic #hizashi yamada #present mic #presentation michael #present mic x reader #shouta aizawa #aizawa #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #erasermic #erasermic x reader #poly #I'm also sorry it's ridiculously long

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! I’ve read so many awesome fics this month! Make sure to check them all out. As always, all my love to all the authors in this fandom ♥

➻ don't want to fight you | starryharry | enemies to lovers - enemies to friends to lovers - pining - mutual pining - angst - fluff slow burn - no smut - 124k Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good. Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point. Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.

➻ we are ghosts amongst these hills | louisgaynkles | Soulmates - reincarnation - historical - slow burn - angst - fluff - 84k Harry spontaneously buys a house in Yorkshire because the universe, or fate, keeps leading him to it. What he didn’t know, is that his new house comes with a past that seems to be mysteriously tied to his own life. Before he knows it he finds himself travelling back in time, stuck in the middle of a century old love story. Featuring Louis as a farmer with a passion for gardening, Zayn as the heir to the local manor, Niall as a pub owner with a secret, and a truly underappreciated Liam. Based on Mariana by Susanna Kearsley

➻ through the wheatfields and the coastlines | thepolourryexpress | farms - cowboys - angst - implied/referenced homophobia - implied/referenced gun use - humor - smut - 53k “You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through. “I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.” Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

➻ An Irrationally Strong Bond Between Two People | jishler | dystopia - friends to lovers - angst - first time - 18k Before The Advancement, most human lives and careers were plagued by irrationality and a lack of productivity. This was largely the symptom of what scientists refer to as “interpersonal passion,” which included two separate (though often conjointly occurring) phenomena: “love,” and “sex.” “Love” was a pre-Advancement word which referred to an irrationally strong bond between two people, which caused its sufferers to prioritise their fellow “lover,” as well as the integrity of the malignant bond itself, over vital things such as workplace productivity. Taken every two weeks in pill form, The Drug immediately removes interpersonal passion from the human psyche. Children’s friendships do not have the capacity to develop into full-fledged “love” since they are not yet adults. Every person over eighteen takes The Drug gladly, grateful that it allows them to be productive, clear-headed, and rational members of society. A few weeks before Louis’ eighteenth birthday, Harry and Louis fall in love. (Based on the book Louis writes in indiaalphawhiskey's Our Lives, Non-Fiction.)

➻ And When It's Time | larryftnoctrl | Soulmates - soulmate-identifying timers - 6k Louis wants a soulmate, Harry loves his free will. They don't exactly go hand in hand. Prompt: AU where you have a countdown on your wrist for when you're going to meet your soulmate and if you miss it the time will reset. Louis/Harry keep having awful luck and always are missing their time until one day they don't. Maybe the other one is scared/has anxiety about meeting their soulmate? Maybe one time they're in a relationship so they intentionally miss their time? Who knows! But they finally meet :D

➻ made for lovin' you | cuddlerlouis | a/b/o - enemies to lovers - hate to love - soulmates - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff smut - 53k “I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid. - Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

➻ deFENCEless | solvetheminourdreams | neighbors - enemies to lovers enemies to friends to lovers - gardening - fluff - humor - banter - no smut - 27k "I moved here first," Louis says with finality, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry shoots him an unimpressed look before leaning forward, leaving only a tiny gap between them. "Then get the fence first," he whispers, lips a mere inch or two away from Louis'. When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

➻ Canyon Moon | delsicle | a/b/o - werewolf - soulmates - childhood friends - friends to lovers - arranged marriage - mutual pining - hurt/comfort - angst - 41k For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry. Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind. An A/B/O Lion King AU

➻ only guilty of loving you | sweetrevenge | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - blind date - soulmates - fluff - angst - mutual pining - smut - 22k After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him. A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

➻ 'Til Everything Changes | lovelarry10 | a/b/o - older characters - brokend bond - loss - falling in love - fluff - implied mpreg - smut - 57k Harry’s nose twitched as he caught a scent on the breeze, one that sent a shudder through his whole body. His eyes closed subconsciously, and he lost himself in the heady scent, the vanilla top notes, and the more woody undertones, making every hair on Harry’s body stand on end. That was how Harry discovered this man was an Alpha. “Jaz, Harry, this is my Uncle Louis. Lou, this is my girlfriend Jasmine, and her dad Harry.” "Lovely to meet you,” Louis grinned, leaning in and kissing Jasmine’s cheek quickly, a respectful Alpha gesture. Harry held his breath as Louis stuck out a hand, taking it almost reluctantly, certain the Alpha would pick up on his own scent and the nerves flowing through it. “Hi, Harry.” “Hi,” Harry said, his voice low and raspy, still affected by Louis’ scent. “Nice to meet you.” ~~~~ Harry’s an Omega who has been alone for too long. Louis’ an Alpha who is scared to find love again. Thanks to the meddling of Harry’s teenage daughter and her boyfriend, the two seem destined to meet, and it might just change everything they thought they knew about their lives. Will they find what they didn’t realise they’ve always wanted in each other?

➻ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | youreyesonlarry | ice hockey - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - major character injury - pining - unrequited love hospitalization - smut - 74k It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. -------- Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire

➻ Rooms on Fire | softfonds | a/b/o - actors - famous/famous - friends with benefits - secret relationship - 34k Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

➻ Stumbling Into Your Arms | sunshineandthemoonlight | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - college/university - fluff - 7k Suddenly, Harry’s nose was brushing against Louis' neck, where his scent was overwhelming. Harry jerked his head to the side and took a deep breath of air, trying to clear his nose of Louis’ scent. ‘Don’t get slick, don’t get hard, don’t get slick’, he repeated to himself in his head, like a mantra. Louis and Harry are university students heading home for the holidays. Harry quickly becomes enraptured by the attractive alpha standing across from him in the train carriage, who has a heavenly scent and a gentle smile.

➻ Little by Little | nonsensedarling | mpreg - non traditional a/b/o - exploring sexuality - exploring secondary gender norms - gender identity strangers to friends to lovers - mutual pining - fluff - slow burn - 65k Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes. Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #monthly reads #monthly fic rec #my reads #larry fics #completed fics

[silverlightqueen]

Ozone 🦋

‘I need some reasons to live, maybe you could show me some.’

Phases - Hwang Hyunjin X Chase Atlantic

Rating: M (heavy angst, fluff, slightly suggestive)

Warnings: substance abuse, drug addiction, depression and discussion of suicidal behaviours/thoughts, toxic relationship, mention of alcohol, strong language

Word Count: 9.3k+ 

a/n: and here is the third (and my favourite) part of phases, my hhjxchaseatlantic series! please proceed with caution because this fic contains some serious and potentially triggering topics! I really hope you guys enjoy this, lmk what you think and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist! the biggest thank you to the loml @silverlightprincess for proofreading this, love you sis xo

taglist 🦋: @diue @shesfuckedinthehead @danyxthirstae01 @linours @titleisyettobemade @jikooksgirl19​ @straytannies​ @silverlightprincess​

‘I’m so sorry, Chaer, I gotta go, they’re blowing up my phone, I-’ ‘It’s okay, y/n, don’t worry about it. I’ll finish my story after,’ Chaeryeong says softly, patting the other girl’s shoulder comfortingly, and she mirrors Chaeryeong’s smile as she gets up from the table, trying to leave without Lia noticing her. She needs to be quick because she doesn’t wanna miss anything, so she slips around the edges of the room, hoping not to get caught in a conversation with one of Lia’s drunk uncles.

The sun is just beginning to set, the sky streaked with the most beautiful pastel colours, and a gentle breeze blows, kissing her exposed skin. The dresses Lia chose for them are so gorgeous – sea blue layers of floaty chiffon with thin straps and leg slits – and they’re perfect for this warm summer evening. The doorman offers her his arm to help her, and her heels click against the front steps of the manor house that Lia’s family have rented. She continues walking, right onto the grass, to make sure she’s stood a sufficient distance from the front door and the staff, not wanting anyone to overhear her conversation.

‘Where the fuck are you guys? The speeches are done, they’re about to serve the starters, and you idiots still aren’t here!’ she hisses angrily down the phone, Jisung silent for a moment before he says, ‘If any of you had answered your phones, then you’d know where we’ve been. And anyway, don’t blame all of us. It’s your idiot boyfriend that’s the problem.’ She takes a deep breath, already feeling her eyes fill with tears. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’ ‘Okay, well, whatever the fuck he is to you.’ ‘It doesn’t matter what he is to me – he’s your best friend. But anyway, what’s he done?’ ‘He’s blown out his mind again. Taken so many xans that I’m surprised he hasn’t passed out.’

She takes a deep breath, trying not to scream, and closes her eyes for a moment to compose herself. ‘Where are you?’ ‘At your place. We went straight there after the ceremony, to pick up the present like you asked, but he decided to pop a few while he waited in the car. They haven’t fully kicked in yet, so we’re waiting for him to get over the peak.’ ‘No, you can’t wait. You’re gonna have to just bring him.’

‘…y/n, are you insane? He’s gonna be higher than a kite in, like, 30 minutes!’ ‘I know, but you can’t miss this! You already missed the speeches, and Lia will start asking where you guys are soon. Our table is literally right at the front of the room, and there are four empty seats. It’s very noticeable, and very embarrassing that four of her closest friends are a no-show at her wedding!’ ‘Yeah, but we can’t bring him while he’s like this!’ ‘We’ll leave him in the car and take turns to look after him until he’s come down.’ ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yes! It’s better than you guys missing her wedding! Get here now.’ ‘Okay, okay, we’re on our way. We’ll be there in 20.’ ‘Make it 15.’ ‘y/n-’ ‘I’m not kidding, Sung!’ ‘Fine, 15. You’re paying any speed tickets, though.’ ‘Fine, whatever, just get here.’

The line clicks off and she blinks a few times to clear her vision before heading back up into the big ballroom, slipping back to her seat. ‘Where are they?’ Yeji asks the second she sits down, all of them waiting for her answer. ‘Hyunjin got high, so they were waiting for him to come back down before they came,’ she says quietly, embarrassed at his behaviour, and all of her friends look furious.

‘Is he fucking kidding? On Lia’s wedding day? How fucking selfish can he be?’ Ryujin hisses angrily, and all she can do is nod in agreement. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with him. But I told them to come anyway, and he can just wait in the car. It’s not fair that the other three should miss Lia’s big day because of him,’ she says softly, none of them wanting any of the other wedding guests to hear.

‘I swear to God, y/n, you need to drop him. He’s a fucking waste of space, and I’m sick of his bullshit,’ Chaeryeong says, and the other girl doesn’t say anything, looking at the empty seat beside her with thinly veiled misery. ‘Um, he’s our friend,’ Minho says, the girls turning their irritated gazes to him. ‘He’s our friend too, but it doesn’t mean what they said isn’t true. He is a waste of space, and we are sick of his bullshit,’ Yeji says softly, the boys exchanging glances before nodding in agreement. ‘Yeah, I guess. We just… feel bad for him,’ Changbin says, and Yuna scoffs. ‘Yeah, I did too. When we were in high school. We’re adults now, and we all have our lives together. He’s the only one that doesn’t. He needs to grow up like the rest of us,’ she says drily, everyone on the table in agreement that he’s a total mess.

It’s all too much for her, hearing all of this out loud, and she gets up from the table suddenly, all of them turning their gazes to her, guilt and concern appearing on their faces. ‘y/n, are y-’ ‘I’m fine, I just… gotta… go,’ she says faintly, getting up and heading towards the exit, stumbling out into the corridor with tears filling her eyes again. She makes her way to the bathroom on shaky legs, smiling weakly at Lia’s aunties that are congregated by the mirrors, gossiping about so-and-so’s dress and so-and-so’s new haircut.

She locks herself into a cubicle and checks Jisung’s location on her phone, breathing a sigh of relief when she sees his little dot moving closer to her own. She takes a minute to calm herself down, trying not to let their words about the boy she’s in love with replay in her mind, but she can’t help it. He is selfish, and a waste of space. It may be hard to hear, but it’s all true, and he’s never done anything to prove otherwise, never even attempted to show everyone they’re wrong about him. He’s a mess, and he knows it just as well as everyone else does.

She doesn’t know how long she’s sat on the lid of the toilet, watching Jisung’s dot on her phone, but when she finally leaves the cubicle, the bathroom is completely empty and eerily quiet. She stares at herself in the mirror for a while, and a small but genuine smile appears on her face at her reflection. She woke up super early this morning to make sure she looked especially nice, and she definitely achieved it – her makeup is flawless despite the tears that have threatened to spill twice already today, and her hair is perfect, unaffected by the slight breeze that’s been blowing since this morning.

She rolls her shoulders and neck to release some of the tension in her body, the crack of her bones echoing in the empty room. She puts her phone on the side, washing her hands with the expensive jasmine hand-soap, and just as she finishes drying her hands, the door opens. ‘Ah, y/n! My darling, you look gorgeous!’ Lia’s grandmother says with a big smile, the girl letting out a little exclamation of excitement as she wraps her arms around the small woman. ‘Thank you, Mrs Choi! And you look gorgeous too!’ ‘Oh, thank you, dear! Lia chose this dress for me – it seems she has an eye for good dresses, doesn’t she? You all looked so lovely stood beside her in your beautiful dresses earlier.’ ‘Not as lovely as the bride herself, of course.’ ‘Of course, of course! She looks stunning. I feel like I’ve been on the verge of tears all day,’ Lia’s grandmother laughs, and the girl truly means it when she says, ‘me too.’

‘It is an emotional day indeed. I look forward to the day that you get married, y/n. I’ll be able to spend the day getting a little too drunk like your grandmother has today,’ Mrs Choi gossips, the two of them giggling together. ‘I look forward to that day too, Mrs Choi. Lia’s wedding has just made me so much more excited for my own. I can’t wait.’ ‘Well, I don’t think you’ll have to wait too long.’ ‘Um… I’m not so sure about that,’ the girl says, getting a suspicious look in response. ‘Don’t tell me you and Hyunjin have broken up.’ ‘We’ve never been together, which isn’t even the start of our problems. He’s… just an idiot.’ ‘All boys are idiots, y/n. The sooner you come to terms with it, the better.’ ‘He’s more of an idiot than the rest of them, Mrs Choi. He’s not even my boyfriend, and I’m just fed up of him,’ she vents, Lia’s grandmother raising an eyebrow at her.

‘Sweetheart, does somebody need to have a word with the little shit? Because if he’s going around behind your back, Mr Choi will s-’ ‘No, he’s not… going around behind my back. He just hasn’t got his life together and it’s starting to really affect our relationship, if I can even call it that.’ ‘Oh, dear. Maybe you’re better off without him.’ ‘I am better off without him.’ ‘Well, I’m glad you know it. The day you decide to actually do something about it, let me know. Lia’s got some single cousins an-’ ‘Thank you for the offer, Mrs Choi, but I don’t need you to matchmake for me.’ ‘You say that now, but just wait,’ Lia’s grandmother says with a mischievous grin, the girl rolling her eyes amusedly. ‘We’ll see.’ ‘We shall. Now you go back and join your friends, sweetheart. I’ll catch you on the dancefloor later,’ the old lady says with a little shake of her hips, the girl bursting into laughter as she heads out of the bathroom.

She checks Jisung’s location again, and he’s only a couple minutes away, so she heads back out to the front of the manor house, admiring the vast grounds with its high trees, vibrant flowers and clear lake as she waits for them to arrive. As soon as she sees the car, she heads towards the driveway, the doorman helping her down the steps again. The second the boys start getting out of the car, she begins fussing about them. They all look dishevelled, and she’d rather not know why.

‘Don’t any of you know how to answer your damn phones?’ Felix says with half-hearted annoyance, letting the girl tighten his tie around his neck. ‘Lia’s family were doing their speeches, and then everyone was coming around and greeting us, so we couldn’t exactly start talking to you idiots on the phone.’ ‘We’re not the idiots, y/n,’ Seungmin says drily, standing still to let her straighten the flower on his lapel. ‘I know,’ she says softly, not even wanting to look in the car and see him. ‘How is he anyway?’ ‘He’s at his peak, so he should be near sober in about an hour, hour and a half,’ Jisung says, rolling his eyes as the girl fixes his hair. ‘Right, fine. We’ll come get him in an hour then. Let’s go.’

‘Woah, woah, hold on. We can’t just leave him in the car by himself,’ Seungmin says, and she raises an eyebrow at him. ‘Why not? If he doesn’t wanna be left in a car by himself, he shouldn’t get high before our best friend’s wedding reception.’ ‘Yeah, I get that, but what if he does something stupid?’ Felix asks, the girl sighing. ‘What do you suggest then?’ ‘We’ll… take shifts watching him. I’ll go first,’ Jisung says, and she shakes her head with wide eyes. ‘Are you insane? You need to go in and say hi to everyone, and then send someone else out, one of the boys. I’ll keep an eye on him for now,’ she says reluctantly, the boys exchanging a glance.

‘If there’s anyone that shouldn’t do a shift, y/n, it’s you.’ ‘Yeah, I know that, Jisung, but no one else is here, so it’ll have to be me. Just go, stop wasting time. If anyone asks where he is, say he’s really ill and he’s sleeping it off in the car,’ she says quickly, taking the car keys from Seungmin and shooing them away, watching as they head up towards the house. ‘You look very hot, by the way! As always!’ Jisung shouts over his shoulder with a grin and she rolls her eyes at him, flattered but most certainly not in the mood. ‘Miss, would you like me to take the car around to the car park for you?’ the valet says, suddenly appearing by her side, and she jumps slightly in surprise. ‘Um, actually… my friend’s still in the car – he’s not very well so we’re just gonna get him to sleep it off and take turns keeping an eye on him. Is there anywhere we can park the car where it’s closer to the house?’ she asks, and the valet thinks for a moment. ‘There’s a little clearing over this side of the house, Miss. I can drive the car there if you’d like,’ he offers, the girl nodding and handing him the keys.

She follows behind the car, walking carefully along the gravel, and thanks the valet profusely as he hands the keys back to her. She wonders whether or not she should get into the car, but the decision is made for her when Hyunjin rolls down the back window, looking at her with an unreadable expression, the whites of his eyes discoloured with red and his bottom lip split. That explains why the boys were all looking dishevelled – they must have gotten into a… scuffle with him. She doesn’t say anything, looking away from him after a moment, and he chuckles. ‘Don’t I get a lecture?’ he asks amusedly, and she doesn’t even dignify his question with a response. ‘Silent treatment?’ ‘Shut the fuck up, Hyunjin.’ He just chuckles in response, and she wants nothing more than to land a heavy punch on his annoyingly perfect face. Instead, she leans against the car and looks down at her phone, scrolling unseeingly through the pictures that Jeongin took of the girls earlier.

‘Why are you always so high-strung, babe? Just relax. Take a xanny,’ he says, smile audible in his voice, and she looks at him with pure disgust. ‘It’s not funny. Not one thing about this is funny.’ ‘It’s a little bit funny.’ ‘You’re fucking sick in the head,’ she spits angrily, and he looks taken aback for a moment, quickly smoothing out his features into that arrogant expression he wears all the time. ‘Wow, that’s harsh. What have I done to you? It’s Lia’s wedding – she’s the only one that can be angry with me,’ he says amusedly, and she feels her eyes filling with tears again. ‘No, actually, I can be angry at you too. It’s fucking humiliating having everyone look at the empty seat next to mine, your empty seat, wondering where the fuck my dirtbag of a boyfriend is!’

‘I’m not your boyfriend,’ he says quickly, the girl letting out a humourless laugh, furious that that’s the thing he decides to address. ‘Yeah, you’ve made that pretty fucking obvious.’ ‘Listen, y/n, I don’t get why you’re so upset that the seat next to you is empty. Just… move seats,’ he grins, as though it’s simple, and she wants to rip his soft black hair out of his stupid head. ‘That’s not the problem, Hyunjin. It’s a lonely feeling.’ ‘You’re sat with your best friends. They’re keeping you company. How can you say you’re lonely?’ ‘They’re all sat next to their boyfriends and girlfriends. The only empty seat on the table, now that the other three are there, is the one next to mine. It’s lonely because they all have their significant others there.’ ‘Well, maybe you should get a boyfriend then. It’s not my fault that you’re single,’ he smiles serenely, and she feels her heart break.

He just called her single. They’ve been messing around since high school, and never have either of them said that they’re single. It was always ‘it’s complicated’, or ‘yeah, we’re kinda together’, or even ‘I’m seeing someone’. Never that they’re single. And he knows that. He’s saying it on purpose, to hurt her – she’s sure of it – and she’s never hated him more than in this moment. Her eyes shine with tears and he just looks back at her smugly with his slightly bloodshot eyes. His body is so accustomed to being high that it’s only ever his eyes that change. His body is never slow or sluggish, his words are never slurred, he never becomes uncoordinated or dizzy. The only sign of him being up in the clouds is his eyes being tinged with a little red.

Changbin appears, almost out of nowhere, and he looks between them with silent concern. ‘Does Lia know anything?’ Hyunjin asks, directing the question at both of them, but the girl ignores him. ‘No. She’s not stupid, though – she’ll realise soon enough,’ Changbin says with no warmth or kindness, and Hyunjin almost looks guilty when he asks, ‘Are you gonna cover for me?’ ‘We’re not gonna ruin her wedding day. So… yeah, we’ll have to cover for you,’ Changbin answers quietly, and the girl lets out a little humourless laugh. ‘You fucking owe us one, you piece of shit.’ ‘I owe you all more than just one. Especially you, y/n. I owe you hundreds. You never stop doing things for me,’ he says with a grin, as though it’s something to be proud of, and it makes her feel sick – it’s like he’s mocking her, making her seem like she’s just his little fan, who follows him around and does whatever he asks.

‘You head back inside, y/n. I’ll stay with this dickhead,’ Changbin says softly, putting a gentle hand on her arm, and she nods, not wasting another moment before heading towards the front of the manor. ‘Tell whoever’s on the next shift to bring me a bottle of vodka!’ Hyunjin calls after the girl and she bites down on her lip, to stop herself from both screaming at him and bursting into tears, feeling that Changbin’s ‘shut your fucking mouth before I shove my fist in it, you fucking moron’ is more than enough of a scolding.

When she re-enters the ballroom, the atmosphere has livened up considerably, the guests beginning to mix between tables, the music a little louder and the lights a little lower. She heads back to the table with her friends, Lia sat there, and she feels a little bit of panic when Lia spots her, the bride’s eyes narrowing. ‘What’s going on with him?’ Lia asks the second the other girl sits down, and she waits for her response with a raised eyebrow, the others on the table silent. ‘These guys already told you, right?’ ‘No, they didn’t. They’re saying that nothing’s wrong, which is bullshit. What’s going on, y/n?’ The girl decides she’s not gonna lie for him, she’s not gonna cover for him anymore, and she takes a deep sigh before saying, ‘he’s high, Lia. I’m sorry.’

Lia shakes her head disappointedly, sadness in her eyes, but there isn’t one hint of surprise in her reaction at all, which hurts. No one’s ever surprised by his behaviour. No one ever expects anything better of him. No one ever thinks he might make a change, but it’s probably because he never will.

‘I even told him he could get high after my family are all gone. They’re leaving at 9 and then we’ve got the place to ourselves all night. He just had to wait a few more hours,’ Lia says angrily, the others all shaking their heads in mutual disappointment. ‘Where is he? I wanna speak to him,’ she says abruptly, getting up from her seat without a second’s hesitation, and all her friends exchange alarmed glances. ‘Woah, Lia, hold on. Changbin’s with him, but you can’t go. It’s your wedding – you can’t just disappear,’ Yeji says, and Lia looks like she’s debating it with herself.

‘I… I wanna go and speak to him so bad. I don’t know whether I wanna knock him out or give him a hug, but I just need to see him,’ she says distractedly, as though her thoughts are too loud for her to focus on her words, and the others look at her with incredulity. ‘You wanna hug him?’ Jeongin asks disbelievingly, voicing all of their thoughts, and she lets out an exasperated sigh. ‘You guys are all so quick to get angry at him. Do you never stop to wonder why he’s always high or drunk?’ she asks, sitting back down again, and everyone rolls their eyes.

‘Lia, it’s nice of you to be concerned about him, but I really wouldn’t try and think about him in a psychological way. He’s too far gone for our help now. I mean, it’s literally your wedding day, and he couldn’t stay sober,’ Ryujin says slowly, and Lia’s eyes widen. ‘But that’s what I’m trying to say! It’s my wedding day… and he couldn’t stay sober. Why has nobody stopped to think about that? What is hurting him so much that he couldn’t stay sober for his best friend’s wedding?’ Lia says slowly, her friends silent as her words sink in, and their anger is quickly replaced by panic and guilt.

‘y/n, has he… spoken to you at all? Mentioned anything to you? I know you two aren’t exactly… well, I don’t even know what you are, but he confides in you more than anyone else,’ Minho says gently, and the girl tries to quieten her concerns, thinking back to anything she should’ve noticed. ‘I can’t think of anything. I mean… there’s the usual stuff he’s talked about since high school – how he gets high to get rid of the pain – but nothing… out of the blue. Nothing bad enough to make him get high in the middle of Lia’s wedding,’ she says quietly, desperately wracking her brains but coming up empty-handed.

‘Maybe we should try and speak to him about it? Try and get him to talk?’ ‘He doesn’t talk, Lix. He won’t talk, to any of us. Except y/n,’ Chaeryeong says gently, all of them silent as they try to think. ‘Will you speak to him, y/n? I’m just worried now that Lia’s said that.’ ‘Trust me, Yuna, I’d love to speak to him, but I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything out of him. I was just with him and… he was horrible to me. Worse than he’s ever been before. I told him it isn’t a nice feeling to be sat in here with the seat next to me empty, and he said that maybe I should get a boyfriend, and it isn’t his fault that I’m single,’ she says quietly, all of them gasping in shock.

‘That’s it. I don’t give a fuck if he’s struggling or going through something difficult – that’s no excuse to be a dick.’ ‘Jisung, please, calm do-’ ‘No, Lia! How many nights has she stayed with him? How many episodes of his has she stuck by him through? How many times has she saved his damn life? Everything she’s ever done for him, and he thinks he can speak to her like that? It doesn’t run! I’m gonna kick his ass!’ Jisung says angrily, standing up, and all the others start panicking and stand up too, trying to get him to calm down. ‘Jisung, if you don’t sit your ass down and shut up, I’ll kick your ass,’ Lia hisses, all of them suddenly conscious of the stares they’re getting from the other wedding guests, and they all quickly sit back down.

‘You don’t get to choose how we deal with him. y/n does,’ Lia says calmly, all of their gazes turning to the girl in question, and she hesitates, taking a few moments to think about it. She wants nothing more than to see him get his due, for being such a dick to her for so long, but she loves him too much to abandon him, or hurt him, at a time when he could be hurting more than he ever has before.

‘We’ll carry on doing the shifts until he’s come down... and then, I’ll speak to him. Only when he’s sobered up. The next person to go out needs to take his drugs off him, if he has any – I don’t want him to take more while he’s coming down. I’ll bring him in after speaking to him,’ she says, telling them the best plan she can think of, and they all nod. ‘Okay, y/n. That’s what we’ll do. I’ll take the next shift,’ Chan says, the others volunteering themselves to look after him, and she feels herself zoning out, worrying about him again. ‘Hey, y/n. Stop stressing. We’re gonna look after him, okay? Team effort to… save Hyunjin,’ Felix says softly with a small smile, and the girl nods, convincing herself that they’ll be able to do it. That they can save Hyunjin.

‘My eyes must have been deceiving me all night, because I haven’t seen you step foot onto that dancefloor,’ Lia’s father says from where he’s appeared behind her seat, and she smiles up at him. ‘Hey, Mr Choi.’ ‘Hi, sweetheart,’ he says, sliding into the empty seat beside her. ‘Why the sad face?’ ‘Oh, I’m not sad. I’m just… reminiscing. It feels like the end of an era,’ she says, glancing over at Lia and wondering when she grew up so much. Wondering when all of them grew up so much.

‘I’ve been thinking the same thing. I can’t help but wish the time hadn’t gone so quickly. I miss those old days. When you girls would play outside for hours each day, all summer long. It feels like just yesterday that me and the other parents waved you all goodbye on your first day of high school, and here we are. At Lia’s wedding,’ he says with a sad smile, both of them watching Lia dance with the biggest smile on her face, looking radiant in her beautiful dress. ‘It feels surreal.’ ‘I completely agree. These years have just flown by – it just feels wrong that you guys are getting married and settling down. Make sure you don’t get married for a long time, y/n. I’m not ready to see you get married yet,’ he says with a grin, the girl bursting into laughter.

‘I can’t wait too long. You’re starting to get old an-’ ‘You cheeky little-’ he exclaims, hitting the girl with a napkin. Lia’s old aunties shoot them dirty looks and they try to stifle their laughter, but it only makes everything funnier, the two of them giggling into their hands like little schoolkids. ‘You might be joking, but I’m afraid you’re right, y/n. We are getting old, so don’t wait too long. I think… in ten years should be fine,’ he says with a grin, her mouth falling open. ‘Ten years? I’ll be ancient by then!’ ‘Watch your mouth,’ he says warningly, an amused glint in his eyes.

‘If I’m being totally honest, I can see you getting married next. I think someone out there will have enough sense to put a ring on you soon,’ he says, trying to sound all mystical, but he makes it sound like a threat instead, and she can’t help but laugh. ‘No, I don’t think so. I feel like I’m destined to just be a bridesmaid for the rest of my life.’ ‘Oh, don’t be ridiculous! You’ll find the right one. Maybe it’s that boyfriend of yours,’ he says tentatively, as though testing the waters, and when she remains silent, her smile slipping a little, he backtracks.

‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought him up.’ ‘No, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It’s… silly.’ ‘I don’t think things are ever silly with you and that boy, y/n. You two seem to have problems that are more serious than any other couple I know. And you’re not even married!’ ‘We’re not even together at all, Mr Choi. He called me single today,’ she says with a sad smile, and his mouth falls open. ‘Where is he?’ he says, clenching his hands into fists menacingly, and she laughs, shaking her head. ‘No, no, it’s okay. I’ll get over it,’ she says, but he’s distracted, looking around the room.

‘Okay, seriously… where is he? I haven’t seen him all night, and I can’t see him now. And this is supposed to be his seat, right?’ he asks, obviously picking up on how the table settings in front of the seat are untouched, how he’s the first person to have sat in that seat all night, and she nods reluctantly, the man shaking his head. ‘Where is he, y/n?’ ‘He’s been an idiot, and… we’re dealing with it,’ she says vaguely, and he raises an eyebrow.

The kids have managed to hide Hyunjin’s addiction from all of their parents for years. The parents have their suspicions, of course, but it’s never been confirmed to them, because they’ve never seen him do drugs. They’ve seen him whilst he’s high, without even realising – he’s pretty much himself when he’s high, just a little hyper or chill – so he’s managed to get away with his addiction for years.

Before Mr Choi can reply, Seungmin’s voice comes from behind them. ‘y/n. You’re up,’ he says gravely, and she takes a deep breath. ‘He’s definitely okay for me to talk to him?’ she asks, Seungmin nodding. ‘I’m sorry to leave you, Mr Choi, but I gotta…’ ‘Don’t worry about it. You have my phone number so call me if something happens. Okay?’ he says, obviously wanting to intervene but not wanting to overstep, and she nods with a small smile.

The walk to the car feels like it stretches over a lifetime, her nerves growing and her legs feeling weaker with each step. It’s past sunset now, but there’s still the warm glow of a beautiful dusk over the manor grounds, the cooling air making her shiver. When she approaches Seungmin’s car, she sees that Hyunjin is sat on the boot, looking towards the lake with a blank face. She feels relief flood through her when he turns his gaze towards her and his eyes aren’t red anymore. This is him sober, or as sober as he’s been in a long time. Lia wasn’t exaggerating when she said that he’s always high or drunk – he even showed up to the ceremony this morning with the faint scent of vodka on his lips.

Neither of them say anything as she joins him, settling beside him on the boot, making sure her dress isn’t touching the floor. ‘That dress really suits you. You look… amazing,’ he murmurs quietly, looking back at the lake. ‘Thanks. And you look handsome in your suit,’ she says softly, feeling her heart flutter a little when his lips quirk up at the corners and he turns his head away with embarrassment.

He’s dressed in a standard black tux with a white shirt underneath it, but the outfit’s simplicity doesn’t stop it from accentuating his lean and slim figure nicely, the colour setting off his honey skin. His soft black hair falls over his forehead into his eyes, and silver rings adorn his long fingers. The tie hanging from his neck is the same blue as her dress, and it reminds her of when they matched his tie and her dress at high school prom all those years ago, the memory bringing a fond smile to her face.

‘Thanks,’ he says quietly, and they fall back into silence. A sudden gust of wind blows, carrying the lilt of faint birdsong, and the trees lean from its force, their leaves brushing against each other. She shivers, bringing her arms around herself, hands clutching onto her own shoulders, and he instantly begins to shrug off his jacket, handing it to her without looking in her direction. She thanks him softly, taking the jacket and pulling it around herself, feeling the echo of his body warmth in its inner lining. He rarely wears any aftershave or cologne – his natural scent is more than enough to make him smell good – but the scent of the Dior spray she bought him for his last birthday fills her senses.

‘I’m really sorry,’ he says suddenly, eyes still on the lake, and she lets out a gentle laugh. ‘It’s not me you need to apologise to. It’s not my wedding – it’s Lia’s,’ she says gently, no anger in her voice at all. She can’t be angry at him when he’s all subdued like this. ‘I know, and I owe Lia an apology too. But… I’ve owed you an apology for a long time, y/n. For so many things.’ She doesn’t say anything, not quite sure what to say, and he takes her silence as a sign to continue, neither of them looking at each other.

‘I… I’m sorry I said to you that you should get a boyfriend. I shouldn’t have called you single – it was nasty, and it wasn’t true. I don’t really know what we are, but we are something,’ he says in a small voice, sounding earnest, and she just sighs. ‘Then… why did you say it? Why did you… want to be nasty to me?’ she asks shakily, tears welling up in her eyes again, and he’s completely silent, showing no sign of answering her question.

‘I don’t understand. Every time you do these things to me, all I can think is that I just don’t understand. I deserve better than you – that’s what you say – but no matter what you do, I still want you, and I don’t understand that either. Why do I keep coming back to you when you treat me like shit? I’m doing it right now. Look how you spoke to me earlier, and I’m sat out here with you instead of being with Lia on her wedding day. Why do I do this? And why do you do this to yourself? You run from the person you need the most. No matter how much I think about it, I just don’t know why you do it. But it has to stop, Hyunjin. It has to stop,’ she says tearily, sobs breaking up her words, and he feels his heart breaking as he listens to her.

He wordlessly moves closer to her, pulling her into his arms, and she rests her head on his chest, trying her best to calm herself down as he comforts her, running his hand over her hair soothingly. ‘I was good this morning. Yeah, I took a couple shots before I left the house, but they were just to give me energy after the pills I took last night. But I was good, I was happy,’ he begins, voice quiet, and she feels a glimmer of hope at the prospect that he’s finally gonna open up to her, tell her something of substance rather than the usually vague things he tells her (she wanted to slam her head into the wall that time he spent ages building up to a big confession for it to be ‘I stay high because I don’t like being sober’).

‘And then, after the ceremony, while you guys were taking bridesmaids pictures, I overheard your parents talking to Ryujin’s parents. They were talking about how happy they are for Lia, how beautiful she looks, and then the conversation changed to you,’ he continues, tears appearing in his eyes and the girl waits nervously for the rest of the story.

He relives the moment as he tells her about it. How he heard her name come up in the conversation, his heart skipping a beat just at the mention of her, and he started listening a little more eagerly. How he couldn’t help the smile on his face when they spoke about how beautiful she’ll look on her wedding day. How he felt like he’d had his heart ripped out when her father mentioned his worries about who his daughter will marry, and how he hopes it won’t be her ‘no-good deadbeat failure of a boyfriend’ because he feels – no, he knows – that ending up with Hyunjin will mean she’ll end up heartbroken.

She bursts into tears as soon as he finishes telling her, and he’s so endeared by her reaction that he can’t help but chuckle, holding her just a little closer as the tears spill down his face. ‘Hyunjin, why didn’t you just tell me?’ she asks quietly once the sobs have stopped forcing their way up her throat. She sits back up, their shoulders touching, and he intertwines his hand with hers, a sad smile on his face. ‘What was I supposed to say? ‘I overheard your dad talking about how much he hates me and my first good mood this entire year is ruined because of it’? That’s not exactly a great conversation to have at your best friend’s wedding.’ ‘Yeah, but it’s a better conversation to have than the one we’re having right now,’ she points out, and he chuckles, nodding in agreement.

‘I know this probably won’t change anything, but you should know that my dad’s opinion on you doesn’t matter to me-’ ‘But, y/n, it’s true. He’s right. I am a no-good deadbeat failure. My life is meaningless. I don’t bring anything to the table. I don’t contribute anything positive to your life, to anyone’s life. You probably would end up heartbroken if you married me. Which is why you can’t marry me. You can’t be with me, y/n. I know I say this all the time, but you do deserve better than someone like me. I wish I was more of a man, but I’m not. All I do is neglect you, and put myself above you,’ he says softly, and she just stares at him with such an intense mix of emotions – anger, sorrow, guilt, hurt, confusion, longing – that she doesn’t even know what to say.

‘But I love you,’ she whispers eventually, and he brushes back her hair with an affectionate smile. ���And I love you too. More than I have ever loved anything. More than anyone has ever loved anything. You are my entire life, y/n. And that’s the problem. My life is you, drugs and alcohol. You have so much more in your life – you have such a potential for success – but being with me will only drag you down. It’s what I’m already doing to you – slowly dragging you down.’ ‘But Hyunjin, you have such a potential for success too! You could have so much fulfilment in your life. You could be so much more.’ ‘But I’m not, and I don’t think I ever will be. I don’t think I’ll ever get sober,’ he whispers hesitantly, fear in his eyes, and it’s so clear to her in that moment that he hates this. The thought of living like this for the rest of his life scares him, but he feels like there’s nothing he can do to change that.

She’s silent for a moment, debating whether or not she should say what she wants to say, but she throws caution to wind and decides to contradict everything she and their friends have been saying to him for years. ‘You don’t have to get sober,’ she says slowly, his eyes widening. ‘What?’ ‘I know I’ve been saying that you need to get sober, but I’ve been thinking about it, and… it’s like weight-loss,’ she says, the boy laughing. ‘Getting sober is like weight-loss?’ ‘Yeah! Think about it; if you go from eating junk food every day and never exercising, to never eating any junk food and working out for three hours every day, it’s just not gonna work. You have to do it slowly, you know? Make lifestyle changes instead. Slowly incorporate exercise into your daily routine. Learn healthier recipes and make better choices with food that you buy.’

He processes her words, holding back laughter at her metaphor, and asks, ‘So you’re saying… I need to just slowly start taking less drugs?’ ‘That’s exactly what I’m saying! We shouldn’t expect you to get sober overnight – it probably won’t work if we try to do it like that. But if you just start taking less and less, then it’ll be an easier process. And I don’t even expect you to get completely sober. A couple xans or a joint at a party, or even a couple lines wouldn’t kill you. That’s what the other boys do. It’s about moderation. It’s about not getting high again as soon as you feel yourself coming down,’ she says pointedly, and he lets out a sigh.

‘It sounds like a great idea, y/n, but… the drugs keep me alive. They might be slowly killing me, but they’re also keeping me alive. As soon as I feel myself coming down, it all comes back. The hurt, the trauma, the self-hatred, the loneliness and the crippling pain of my life. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but there’s something very wrong with me, because when I’m sober, I want to die. When I’m sober, I don’t have any reasons to live,’ he confides in a gentle voice, holding her hand tight, and her heart sinks at his admission. ‘Well… maybe I could give you some?’ she whispers, his lips curling up into a small smile, and he puts an arm around her, pulling her close and pressing his lips to her temple. ‘Maybe you could, angel. I should at least let you try. But I can’t promise it’ll work,’ he murmurs against her skin, and she feels her heart lift with hope. This is more than he’s ever let her try before.

‘Okay. We’ll start with trying to… fix you tomorrow,’ she says, and his eyes widen. ‘Tomorrow?’ ‘Yes, tomorrow. If we keep putting it off, we’ll never get around to it. Tonight, you can go inside, say hi to everyone and apologise for your… antics, and when all of Lia’s family have left, you can get high with the boys. Then, after we see Lia off on her honeymoon, we’re starting with… ‘Operation: Help Hyunjin’. Okay?’ she asks, and he nods with a small smile. ‘Okay.’ ‘Promise me you’ll try. If I show up to your house in the morning and you’re not there, like all those other times, I’m gonna be really upset. I love you, but I can’t put up with you running from me for much longer. So I want you to actually try this time.’

‘I promise I won’t run from you. And I promise I’ll try, for you.’ ‘No. It’s not for me – it’s for you. It’s for your happiness, your future. The motivation for this needs to be you. You owe it to yourself to live a better life. Nobody else but you.’ ‘Okay. I’ll promise I’ll try. For me,’ he smiles, tilting her head up to press a gentle kiss to her lips, making her heart flutter. He chuckles at the dazed look on her face, jumping down from the boot of the car. He puts two big hands on her waist and helps to lift her down, leading her back up to the wedding.

‘You look so cute in my jacket,’ he chuckles, and she instantly begins taking it off. ‘No, angel, it’s cold!’ ‘My dress is so pretty, though. I don’t wanna cover it up. And we’re going inside now anyway,’ she says, handing him his jacket back, and he pulls it on as his eyes trail up and down her body. ‘I guess the dress is pretty. Not as pretty as you, though,’ he murmurs, and she rolls her eyes, unable to hold back a giggle. ‘That was a terrible line.’ ‘Who says it was a line? The only lines I do are coke.’ ‘…Not funny, Jin.’ ‘Sorry.’

They walk towards the front door of the manor holding hands, their fingers interlaced, and Hyunjin spots a little flower bush a few feet away. ‘Hold on,’ he says, letting go of her hand and picking one of the flowers. They’re blush pink, the same colour as the corsage he bought her from prom, and he holds it up to her with a grin, a small smile on her face as he lifts up her hair to tuck it behind her ear. It might not match the dress, but he thinks she looks beautiful, and she’s so touched that he remembers such a small detail from so long ago. Pink peonies have been her favourite flowers since he bought her that corsage, because every time she sees one, she thinks of him.

‘You look perfect,’ he murmurs, pressing his lips to hers again, and she sighs gently into the kiss, his lips curling into a smirk as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her closer. ‘Wanna come back to mine tonight?’ he asks once they break apart, and she rolls her eyes. ‘Really?’ ‘Yes. Your dad doesn’t want us to get married? Cool. He never said anything about us having a kid,’ he grins, and she laughs. ‘Very funny.’ ‘I’m kinda not kidding,’ he says with bright eyes, and her mouth falls open. ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yeah. I’ve always wanted a kid with you. They’ll be the most amazing kid on earth,’ he grins, the girl still not sure whether he’s joking or not, and she’s silent for a long few moments. ‘Fine, I’ll make you a deal. You get to some form of sobriety, and then I’ll get pregnant. How does that sound?’ she asks, and he lets out a whoop of joy, sweeping her up into his arms and spinning her, their laughter carrying in the wind. ‘Sounds perfect to me, y/n.’

The bridal march begins suddenly, the guests all falling quiet, and her bridesmaids make their way in one by one. Yeji, Lia, Ryujin, Chaeryeong and Yuna all have genuinely happy smiles on their faces, wearing matching dresses the same colour as the blush pink peony bouquets that they all hold, bouquets designed by the bride herself. The flowers are a main point of decoration – no matter where you look in the room, you’ll see a pink peony within your peripheral vision.

Hyunjin feels anticipation building inside him, unable to keep the smile off his face when his son enters after the bridesmaids, throwing pink flower petals with a mischievous smile on his face. You’d think he’d resemble Hyunjin, and he does in a way, with his soft fluffy hair and handsome good looks, but when Hyunjin looks at him, all he can see is her. Their son got her beautiful eyes, her beautiful smile, her beautiful heart, and he couldn’t be happier about it.

She enters after their son, the entire room gasping at how beautiful she looks. Hyunjin feels his eyes fill with tears, not at her perfect dress or perfect hair and makeup, but her perfect smile, complete and utter happiness on her face. He desperately tries to blink back the tears, eyes flitting to her father beside her, their arms linked together. He looks a lot older than Hyunjin remembers, but looking around, he realises they all look a lot older than he remembers. It’s been a long and difficult few years for all of them, her most of all.

With each step she takes, he feels himself getting more and more emotional, in disbelief at how perfect she looks, how happy she looks. She reaches the end of the aisle and joins her fiancé at the altar, handing her bouquet to her bridesmaids and taking Jisung’s hands into her own, the boy smiling unbelievably widely. He looks like the happiest man in the world.

Hyunjin watches, from right behind Jisung, as the love of his life marries his best friend, the smiles not leaving their faces for a single moment. Despite the hurt, the jealousy, the longing he feels for her, he also feels happy for her, and grateful towards Jisung. Grateful to him for being the boyfriend that Hyunjin could never be, and being the father that Hyunjin could never be. And as they kiss, sealing their promise of love, and Hyunjin’s son runs up to his mother and the man that he thinks is his father, the three of them making the happiest family on earth, Hyunjin feels paralysing regret fill him.

Regret about the drugs. Regret about the alcohol. Regret that he couldn’t prove anyone wrong. Regret about the fact that he hurt her, and ran from her, when she’s the one that he needs the most, the one he’s always needed the most. Regret that he couldn’t be more of a man. Regret that he couldn’t get sober, not for her, or their son, or even for himself.

Once the ceremony’s over, and the happy couple are taking their photos in the gardens, the guests watching on with affectionate smiles, Hyunjin’s friends gather around him, giving him brief hugs or squeezing his hand comfortingly, and he’s not sure whether it’s making him feel better or worse. The photographer calls for a picture of the happy couple with the best man, and his eyes meet with hers, a small smile on her face as he heads towards the two of them.

‘Your flower’s about to fall off,’ Jisung points out when Hyunjin joins them, and without a moment of hesitation, she lifts her hands to his lapel to fix it. ‘It’s like prom all over again – me fucking up my flower, and you spending most of the night fixing it,’ Hyunjin jokes, the girl laughing while she re-pins his pink peony boutonniere, and Jisung feels a pang of pain in his heart as he watches them. They look like they should be the bride and groom – the way she fixes his flower with the softest hands and the utmost care, the way he gazes at her with nothing but love in his eyes, the two of them laughing quietly – and even though Jisung understood his reference, he still feels left out, as though he’s the third wheel intruding on an inside joke.

They get into position for the photo, Jisung on her right and Hyunjin on her left, both of them with an arm around the bride, and she holds her bouquet, the three of them smiling in the sunlight as though they’re the happiest people in the world. Hyunjin looks like the proud best friend, successfully hiding his jealousy of Jisung and his love for her. Jisung looks like the elated groom, successfully hiding his jealousy of Hyunjin and his longing to feel her love the way his best friend always has and always will. And she looks like the picture of the bride glowing with happiness, successfully hiding her yearning for the reversal of the boys’ roles, her desire for Jisung to be the proud best friend and Hyunjin to be the elated groom. The three of them are so tragic and they don’t even know it, don’t even know the truth about each other’s desires.

Their son comes running over, wanting to get into the picture, and it’s like he knows the truth because he decides to stand between the bride and the best man rather than the bride and the groom. She feels panic fill her, not sure whether or not she should move her son, but the photographer begins taking pictures before any of them can act.

It’s almost as though the photographer’s worked them out, like he can see right through the three of them and their lies, because he suggests taking photos of the best man and the happy couple’s son, the three of them exchanging a glance before the bride and groom move away. Hyunjin lifts his son into his arms, the boy completely oblivious to Hyunjin’s inner turmoil, and he just wraps his arms around the man that he knows as his uncle, smiling widely for the camera.

The bride watches them from behind the photographer, and it’s only when Jisung walks away wordlessly that she registers the loving smile on her face which falters quickly. ‘y/n,’ the girl hears, and she tears her eyes away from Jisung’s retreating back, turning to look at Hyunjin’s mother, and the guilt fades away into excitement. ‘Mrs Hwang! Thank you so much for coming!’ the bride exclaims, throwing her arms around the woman she holds dear in her heart. ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for anything. You look so beautiful. I’m so happy for you,’ she says, holding the girl tight, and once they break apart, their eyes both wander to Hyunjin and his son, posing for pictures.

‘I’ve just noticed, y/n, how much your son looks like my son,’ Mrs Hwang murmurs, the bride silent for a moment as she watches her boys laugh together, the photographer capturing the moment. ‘I personally think he gets his looks from me. His personality is all Hyunjin, though,’ she says mildly, Mrs Hwang giving the girl a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really thought he’d get his act together.’ ‘So did I, Mrs Hwang. But it’s okay. Jisung makes me happy.’ ‘I’m glad. You deserve to be happy,’ she says wistfully, the two of them still watching their boys laughing together. ‘Come and visit me soon, y/n. And bring your son. I’d quite like to meet him again, knowing what I know,’ Mrs Hwang says quietly, the bride nodding with a smile, holding the tears back.

Hyunjin notices his mother walking away from the bride, and he feels hope in his heart when his eyes lock with those of the girl that he loves, and he sees love reflected back at him, a sad smile on her face. Does she still love him? Is she wishing that she’d married him instead of his best friend? Is she wondering what her life would be like if they were the newly-weds, and their son knew the truth about his father?

But the moment is fleeting, because the sadness disappears from her smile, making him question whether it was even there in the first place, and her loving eyes are on her son instead, not Hyunjin. And suddenly, the realisation hits him. The realisation that she doesn’t love him. That she loves Jisung. And he can never call her his again. And in the few moments before his world comes crashing down, he feels the familiar itch in his fingers, the desperation to reach into his pocket and pull out the little plastic packet, full of the stuff that pushes his pain away.

So he holds it together for the last few photos before heading off towards his car with the tears in his eyes blurring the path in front of him, his absence almost entirely unnoticed in all the excitement. But she watches him with their son in her arms, feeling the crack in her heart grow with each step he takes, wishing with all her might that she could go running after him, get into his car with him so he can drive the three of them away to their own little world of happiness. And Jisung watches her, the longing and love in her eyes so clear as she watches his best friend, and he knows in that moment that his hopes that she’ll one day love him as much as she loves Hyunjin are delusional, that he’s signed his life over to being second best in the eyes of the person he loves more than anyone in the world.

Maybe the three of them are truly happy in another world, but certainly not in this one.

#straykidsland #kpopscape #kwritersworldnet #stray kids #skz #stray kids au #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids hyunjin #skz hwang hyunjin #stray kids hwang hyunjin #skz angst #skz fluff #phases hhj

[enha-woodzies]

➸ CHAPTER 6 | " AT LONG LAST PT. 1 "

starring: enhypen ft. i-land daniel

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader x sunghoon

genres: royal au, romance, angst, slowburn, 18th century setting

word count: 2.5k

taglist: @serendipitysung (betareader) @angeljungwon @en-sun @affectionaterainoflove @renkiv @softforjungwoo @jislix @fluffi @gyeraniee @stxrryemxlys

[ PREV. CHAPTER ] | [ M. LIST ] | [ NEXT CHAPTER ]

To be promenaded in front of the entire ton is one of every lady’s desires. From the piercing stares of the envious, to the love-struck looks of those smitten by the pair, the two most-loved couple of this season gracefully saunters from the cemented pathway and down to the grassy lawn, ever so politely greeting Northumberland with their warmest and charming presence.

The young marquess joins the young miss’ family under the canopy near the lake. With a hand draping over Sunghoon’s arm, Lord Niki mutters swears to the gods for lightning to strike upon the chap, as the gagging sight of his sister along with his most despised douche is gradually sucking the life out of him.

“Good morning!” Sunghoon greets the family and so did Lady Park. Jay gives away a polite nod followed by a toast of the teacup, whereas the almost always brooding Niki responds with an exaggerated rolling of his eyes.

“Your Grace. Always the charmer, aren't we?” Niki jeers to which Jay chokes on his warm, jasmine tea.

“The smoothest at being one, Riki.” The name rolls naturally off his tongue like a snake’s hiss that roused Niki’s ire. The boy could feel the crescendo of his spite, yet he eases it casually with a sly smirk.

“Smooth like a snake, perhaps? I anticipate those fangs in action.” Niki surprisingly snaps back. Jay clears his throat as he whispers to Niki in hopes to prevent him from further fumes, although he knows it would be of no use.

Sunghoon scoffs in return, “need I remind you that I shall deliver if provoked. However tempting that may be right now, I regret to inform you that I’m only here to promenade your sister and impress your dear mother.”

“I do hope she turns you down in the most painful way possible, Your Grace. I find my sister's taste in men quite genteel. Surely, you're aware of how opposed you are to that considering your…” Niki walks closer to the marquess to give an exclusive barb against his ear, “nasty record.” He brushes off imaginary dust off Sunghoon’s shoulder before bumping against it, “Good day to you two!”

“Oh dear, your brother is making me worried. Is he alright?” Lady Park whispers to Jay and the gent soothes their mother by softly massaging her hands, rubbing circles on the back of her palm, “he's just going through puberty, mother.”

“Is that so? I don't remember you having those episodes before. Furthermore, I apologize, Your Grace. Rest assured it won't happen again. I will definitely see to it.”

“No worries entirely. It's Niki after all, he may be a tough handful but as far as I recall he's completely-”

“Held back? Are those the words you were going for?” Jay cuts off. 

“You're quite forgetting the fact that I’m right here.” Y/n attempts to intrude only to be silenced by her brother once again. With his head held high, Jay saunters up to Sunghoon, who is almost the same height as him. Locking eyes with the chap, he simpers, “come, Your Grace, I require a brief moment with you. Excuse us for a bit, sis.”

And with that, the men left the canopy, leaving Y/n and her mother utterly baffled with the uncalled tension.

The sound of paper being folded into an almost crumple echoes around the parlour, where the only sound that existed prior was deafening silence from the three men sitting across each other.

The culprit was none other than Yang Jungwon, who appears to be insulted from what he just read. Throwing off the now crumpled paper, Daniel perfectly catches it mid-air and opens it in haste.

Sunoo takes a gander at the Daily Tattle’s contents that Daniel incoherently mutters. Jungwon carefully studies his brother's reaction as Sunoo’s smile quickly transforms into shock, followed by the furrowing of his eyebrows with his mouth ajar; the final gesture, shooting a questioning look-- with his mouth still ajar-- at one of the scandal’s subjects.

“Surely, me asking two dances from you was already too cheap but, one, brother? Are you seriously being expensive right now?" The eldest exclaims.

"One that is very exclusive and controversial, might I add." Daniel chimes in. “What was all that about?"

"Remind me why I need to explain myself to the both of you?" Jungwon monotonously replies with his eyes fixed on the book he was now reading.

“Because we ought to know?”

“Well, if not to us, at least to Y/n?"

“Good god. Why is she in this conversation all of a sudden?"

"Because you pulled a dick move on her and we ought to know what's going on inside that brain of yours! You're so dense. Must we shake you up to shrug off those lil rust in there?"

"Oh, shut up, Daniel."

“That thing you did there? With her? Was very unlikely of you, Jungwon." Sunoo stands from his seat and transfers to Jungwon’s side on the couch.

"Well, what is like me then?"

"Spit it out or Daniel and I are gonna have to annoy you for the whole week.”

Jungwon slams the book on the couch and lets out an exasperated sigh before grunting out loud. "I just wanted to be alone with her, okay?! Are you pleased now?"

"Wait. You like her, don't you?”

“No, I don't! And I would never for heaven's sake."

“But you want to be alone with her. Isn't that what people do when they're in love?" Daniel rubs his chin in thought.

“Oh, god! Whatever lets the both of you sleep at night then. Assume the worst for all I care." The heated gent lifts himself up from the couch and strides towards the exit.

“Where are you going?”

“Away from the two of you. You won't stop annoying me either way, so I’m gonna get myself some cleaner air.” Jungwon slams the door shut behind him for a relieving walk to the woods.

“Now he's mad.”

“All we ever said was the truth, didn't we?”

“He is pretty rusty, alright.”

Y/n visits the Kielder Forest once again to run away from the stressful men of this morning’s promenade. She could've stayed in her fortress, but because of their foolish ruse, she had to show up. Now her brothers had to meddle with the already confusing mess.

Pages from the borrowed Austen book are now being flicked through again. She couldn't concentrate no matter how hard she tried, as Niki’s words still lingered in her mind.

“What nasty record could he have?” She mutters under her breath. Soon after, crunching of leaves startles her, and she realizes her whispers weren't the only noise around. Y/n dashes out of her sheer fort only to be welcomed by her most coveted man ever.

"What are you doing here?!" Jungwon asks in an angry kind of worry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Taking a walk, obviously?"

"Well, I’m reading. Obviously." Y/n sassily blinks at him, to which he returns a slightly puzzled look.

"You're much aware that you shouldn't be here, let alone unchaperoned, right?"

"Well, good thing you're here!"

Y/n crouches down to re enter her fort now that she has a guest. She softly taps the extra pillow, gesturing Jungwon to join her in a momentary bliss. One that is very rare when it comes to the both of them, and something that the young miss has found herself accustomed to now. When it comes to Jungwon, he'll just leave her begging for more.

Was it simply luck that had caused him to turn down this pathway? Whatever it was, he didn't feel the need to complain. As of now, all he ever wanted was a piece of mind from his brother's interrogations about him and Y/n. Not fully realizing that the very person who triggered him to rush out of his house would be the one he was impossibly hoping to run into.

"You still have that?" Jungwon points his lips to the book she was flipping. She had borrowed it from him and had yet to return it after all these years.

"Are the inclusions still there?" He continues. Although he wishes he didn't. He recalls all the little notes he left on his favorite pages just to get his feelings across and now he chuckles at the mere thought of him playing Romeo.

"They are. They're kind of tattered now, but they're still comprehensible. You do have a remarkable penmanship after all, something that's very impossible to miss."

The boy chuckles at the thought. "You do mean those things you wrote here, right?" She concerningly asks to which Jungwon only shrugs his shoulder with lips shut tight. "Well, don't mind me 'cause I'd like to think that you did."

"Suit yourself." He mutters. Little did she know he was smiling to himself with flushed cheeks.

The boy looks around the interior of the fort while whistling to the air, followed by a few jabberjays mocking his tune. They chuckle over the memory and realize they had traveled back in time.

"Jay's going to get aggressive with me on fencing once he hears about this. I've been conspiring to keep his sister hidden." He playfully smirks.

"Do you remember we used to do this in the garden lawn? Playing hide and seek just to get a glimpse of Jay's maddening face." Y/n reminisces the good old times they both used to share. Although there were petty fights here and there, what conquered most was their endearing bond.

Jungwon looks over as he vividly remembers that exact memory, "and we ended up building a fort out of the picnic sheets we used to hide in and officially made it our castle" he adds.

"I've forgotten what it's like to feel young." Y/n lets out a deep sigh, minding the pressure she's bearing now that she's about to be offered to the life-long commitment that is marriage.

Jungwon looks over her, feeling all concerned with the worries that she might be facing as of late; things that he wouldn't have any knowledge of as a man.

Society has dictated women's place in the world as persons who are supposed to be emotional, submissive, and homely; something very opposed to those of men. Knowing Y/n well enough and how she enjoys her liberty, her own principles, Jungwon worries her future companion, if not him, would find her very indifferent and of no use in the long run.

And it pains him to think that she wouldn't be well off with someone even worse than him.

She deserves more and he knows that fully well.

"Well, I, for one, miss moments like this more than anything." He lightens the mood in hopes of seeing that beautiful smile on her face.

As he turns to her, the two lock eyes. In that moment, Yang Jungwon swore of laying out his long-hidden sentiments. Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind. But with Y/n looking at him like this, he would most likely fuck things up.

And he fails himself yet again.

"So uhh… you and the duke-to-be, huh? That must be thrilling." He looks away and pretends to play with the twigs on the ground.

"Y-Yeah! Yeah, indeed, it is. The promenade went well today… before the two decided to sabotage it."

"Do tell."

"We're all aware of how Niki ultimately detests the marquess, aren’t we? He kind of uhh… insulted the man in front of mother."

"And… Jay?"

"Stole the marquess from me to have a word with him."

"I reckon he had many words with him."

Y/n chagrins at the imagination of Jay going head to head with the marquess. Being the overprotective one, Jay will go out of his way to expel threats in the family.

"You seem to be clearly aware of that. Yet you entertained His Grace anyway. I pity Niki. He must be going through a loophole of shit again, now that his dear sister's off strutting with that man." Jungwon blurts out, though he wishes he never did… again.

He is clearly rusty and he kind of admits it now.

"That man? Whatever's the matter with all of you?! You dare speak of him like you know what happened between him and my brother-"

"Y/n, we all went to the same university. What makes you think I know nothing?"

"That man you're referring to was just the man who saved me from an embarrassing night, no thanks to you."

Jungwon scoffs at her pettiness.

"Don't turn away with those remarks now. You toyed with me that night, left me there with nothing but utter shame to bring home. I'm sure you're very proud of that now."

Promenading would be every woman's desire, indeed. But being ghosted or fled from is something that every woman fears, especially when they've been shunned by someone they adore the most. Such shame and reproach haunts them for almost the rest of their lives, especially when the ton won't let them sleep at night with that reminder.

"Have you not at least any bit of politeness left in you? You must be ashamed, asking my brother for such favor that you cannot even put through yourself."

"I have my reasons."

"I highly doubt they're even valid." Y/n retorts. Jungwon sighs in exasperation, finding the situation rather unnecessary that he'd rather keep his mouth shut. She deserves to let her anger out after all.

"Whatever happened to you?" She mutters under her breath, looking over to the boy who kept his head hung low with his elbows leaning on his raised knees. "Sometimes, I look at you and see a completely different person. You know, I never learned to read your mind, Jungwon. So stop giving me all these silent treatments as if something happened even though nothing ever did."

Jungwon lets out a sharp exhale before poking his cheek with his tongue. "Stop seeing Sunghoon then. If you care so much about your brother, stop frolicking around with that scoundrel."

Y/n scoffs at him, followed by the rolling of her eyes, trying to stifle an untimely tear from falling.

"You're unbelievable! Just so you know, I've wasted many sleepless nights crying because of your stupid ass, and I still do for heaven's sake! But now it's very clear to me that there's no amount of crying left that I can do for you!"

Y/n groans heavily before standing up from the pillow she was sitting on, throwing the Austen book hardly on the cold ground.

"So much for hearing nothing but the truth from you, huh? I despise you, Jung. Very much."

She runs off from the boy for what seemed like the nth time. For the past years, this exact scene had happened. Jungwon closes his eyes and lets himself fall harshly on the pillows. He raises a hand over his head, looking at the gaps between his fingers thinking of how he let her slip away, again. He drowns himself in deep thoughts, all the while trusting that Y/n will forget this day ever happened, like before.

He knows she will.

At least, that's what he tells himself.

Though deep down, his stomach churns in fear.

And there's no one to blame but his damning pride.

*send me an ask or a message if you wish to be added on this series' taglist!

ㅡ © ENHA-WOODZIES, 2021

#kpopscape #enhypenwriters #enhypennetwork #of lords and mischiefs #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen series #enhypen fics #enhypen jungwon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunoo #enhypen niki #iland daniel

[jesuisgourde]

gay/queer references in Peter’s journals

Again, I have probably missed stuff due to going through pretty quickly and also due to having stared at this document for so long, everything has kind of blurred together.

Sometime close to the day that Carlos & I watched 'Love And Death on Long Island' (and afterwards paraded through the tea rooms of Picadilly) we both filled in application forms and were tres excited to be invited to the same group 'interview' - twas more like an audition though. I got the part. Carlos never. This did not bring any animosity - we both know that success for either of us is magnified a million times if it is shared by us both.

from 'A Diamond Guitar' by Truman Capote "Except that they did not combine their bodies or think to do so, though such things were not unknown at the (Prison), they were as lovers. Of the seasons, spring is the most shattering: stalks thrusting through the earth's winter-stiffened crust, young leaves cracking out on old left-to-die branches, the falling asleep wind cruising through all the newborn green. And with Mr Schaeffer it was the same, a breaking up, a flexing of muscles that had hardened. It was late January. The friends were sitting on the steps of the sheep house, each with a cigarette in his hand. A moon thin and yellow as a piece of lemon rind curved above them, and under its light, threads of ground frost glistened like silver snail trails. Tico Feo had been drawn into himself - silent as a robber waiting in the shadows."

Then a meet with Bounds Green's African prince outside whitechapel tube, rugged lookies at I in military attire & to a ruptured Albion rooms tidied in hours and now lids drawn heated on the eyes. A young looking fella has a crush on me.

Jackie/Camillia/Marie/Kate/Chris/V. churchill Jackie/Evelina/Jasmine/Sachi/Dalston/Sussie Sandra/Carlene/FP/Jay/Dalston/Kraut

There sat a young black man, perhaps in his early or middle twenties. He looked for all the world like the archetypal rude boy. Clean, cheap reebok, nike, adidas variously rolled, laced & zipped about his lean, spreadeagled body that hung loosely about the waiting room chair. Gold & tattoos adorned his person, and a blank animal look was attached to his clear face. He sat before me in a row of four empty chairs, staring at polished floor or the mundane television. A balding white man minced in & all perceptions were suddenly proven to be false as they embraced and snuggled up to each other, giggling & whispering & touching each others noses.... very much in love, fingers crossed for the blood tests.

[Image: an article from Gay Times of an interview with Peter. For some reason, the portrait included alongside the article is of Carl wearing a grey and black t-shirt.] Name? Peter Doherty Age? 22 Where are you? I'm on the motorway just north of Southampton. What kind of day are you having? (Vaguely) Erm... quite misty. Something's waiting around the corner, but there are no corners on the motorway, so we'll just have to wait and see what lies ahead. Maybe something will happen tonight.... What's this we hear about you once being a rent boy? Well, when times are hard, duty calls. How long ago was it? When I was 19, about three years ago. How do we know this isn't just a Shaun Ryder-type lie? 'Cause if it was, it would make me a complete scumbag and I'm not, and I'm not interested in that kind of pantomime. It wasn't a very happy time. I didn't really enjoy it. Why did you give it up? (grimly) Well, certain people disappeared... and anyway, ultimately I found myself no longer in such a vulnerable position anymore. Dawn broke, and I realised that it was a beautiful world after all. Have you done any other dodgy jobs? All of us in the band have tried to deal, but it's not good if you like the drugs too much. You just end up using them yourself! I once was a gravedigger. I used to do it with my mate in Willesden Green cemetery. We didn't actually do the digging, a machine did that, but we used to have to fill them in. It was pretty grim work. So are you gay then? Love is love, wherever it comes from. I'm not anything, really. I am a very sexual person but... I dunno, I believe in liberty... The Marquis de Sade has a lot to answer for... Do you get a lot of gay fans? Yeah - well, there's one guy in particular. He's very shy and he follows us around. He brings in letters and cards and stuff, but he's very quiet. I think John (the bassist) is the main pulling power in the band. Are you jealous about that? Nah! I've known him too long.

You know I'm alright i dont even care i like it when they stare & stare call me queer, dear oh dear a million things & what I wear He's real hard when he's with his mates but I'll saw him again & he was too late

Dear NME I'd have thought after the Gay Times piece, the interview with Rapture fanzine & our recent gig at the Slum Club everything would be clear. No it still remains to give a big hearty fuck off to all these twisted suburban types calling me a liar. Vulnerable young men & women all over the world find themselves victims of circumstance.

she was dressed in suit & tie & lightly etched-on moustache. 'I've always wanted to kiss a bird in the back of a taxi.' she says, running her hand up the fishnet ladders of my thigh. Stepping onto the front line in Bow puddles, elevators, buzzing doors,

[Image: the original page in the book has been preserved. Two paragraphs have been boxed off with biro. They read:] “...cast Richard Burton and Rex Harrison as bickering queer barbers and then much more uncompromisingly in William Friedkin's adaptation of The Boys in the Band (1970), which introduced some of the plainer four letter words in the English language to the screen for the first time. 'Who,' asks Cliff Gorman, in his brilliant portrayal of the most effeminate of the homosexual group as they gather for a soul-searching party, 'Who do you have to fuck to get a drink around here?' Other homosexual manifestations to occur in movies around this time included an elliptical but unmistakeable male fellatio scene in John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy (1969) when Jon Voight, as a broke and disillusioned Texas stud importunes in a New York cinema....”

[Image, top left: a blurry photo of John onstage, playing bass. Image, top right, sideways: a photo of the band onstage. Carl and John are on the left, sharing a mic. Peter is on the right, playing guitar and singing into his own mic. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his bottom half from the chest down is visible. Image, centre left: a torn photo of Peter sitting in a chair, shirtless, playing guitar. Only his top half from shoulders up is visible. Image, bottom left: a torn fragment of a photo. What looks like a denim-clad knee and a yellow carrier bag are visible. Image, bottom middle: a photo of someone's knee in torn jeans, taken from under a table. Image, bottom right: a torn photo of Carl in a black sleeveless shirt, posing with his fingers in his mouth.] [A paragraph from the original page of the book has been left exposed and boxed off with black biro. It reads:] “The Boys in the Band was displaced by an immeasurably more powerful portrayal of homosexual groups, Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971). Set in a Quebec prison, this disturbing, factually based drama vividly recounted the corrupted of a heterosexual convict trapped in a tough, potentially vicious homosexual society. In one horrifying scene, a weak, put-upon prisoner is gang-banged by his fellow inmates; in another, the 'hero' is blackmailed by his cellmate into accepting him as his lover for the duration...”

Like a cat on a hot tin roof Like a macho man in a roomful of poofs I have tried in my way to be free.

[Written in Peter's handwriting] Jerome... is that how it's spelt? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes it is [Written in Peter's handwriting] Can I read you something? [Written in someone else's handwriting] Yes please.....

I insist, new book of Albion, befuddled by drugs I may yes about 2 but I do not miss out entirely on the subtleties of the inhuman relation ships that are this the mainstay of my stay here in one bounce of a loaf. Boys are fooled into fooling with boys. [...]

More general references/some extra explanations:

“The boy looked at Johnny” is a line from Patti Smith's song “Horses,” part one of a three-part song called “Land.” In the song, a young man named Johnny is assaulted by another man in a locker room; he then mentally journeys to other fantastical lands and visions. A lot of people interpret it as being about gay sex, although some people interpret it as being about a stabbing.

Peter quotes and references Jean Genet's writing and works about Jean Genet many times. While Genet's works are nearly all about crime and prison (one of Peter's main interests and points of fascination), all of his works are very explicitly gay. The Thief's Journal is more about Genet's various lovers than it is about his criminal history. Our Lady Of The Flowers is about a drag queen and her criminal lovers, and is also extremely erotic.

(“Jerome” is Jerome Alexandre, vocalist of The Deadcuts, who was friends with Peter and Mark Keds.)

#squash transcribes books of albion #peter doherty #feel free to request compilations of other kinds too

[extraordinarilyfadedmemories]

Shenanigans; Part II

Cordelia x Reader

Warnings: none, the next part will be NSFW for sure.

I finally finished the second part and part three is already in the works!! Let me know what you think ❤

Summary: Pickup from Shenanigans; Part I; You wake up in Cordelia’s bed without her. Later on the two of you talk. One things leads to another and you end up at one of the fanciest restaurants in New Orleans :) Kinda long-ish

Taglist: @scarlspookyszn​ @cordeliafoxxe​

[If you would like to be added let me know, I promise I have different characters coming soon!!!]

You awoke with a terrible headache, the bright lights that were flowing in from the windows only made it worse. Opening your eyes slowly, you noticed Cordelia wasn’t in bed next to you. Rolling over, you looked over at the clock on the night stand. 10:23. Damn it was late, but thank God it was Saturday. You also quickly took notice to the handwritten note sitting underneath two white pills.

Y/N,

I left some Tylenol, as I’m sure you’ve got a terrible hangover. Take your time waking up, and come find me in the greenhouse later.

-Cordelia

All of the memories of last night flashed through your mind. The body shots. All of the tequila. Cordelia practically begging you to stay with her. To think that someone like her would be interested in me is insane. You suddenly realized you were in her bed. You rolled over with your face in the pillows and could smell the light scent of jasmine she seemed to carry around with her; It was intoxicating. You tried to suppress your thoughts, as you stood up and made your way back to your bedroom, catching the attention of Coco who was walking up the stairs. “Umm hey you.” She said as she followed you. “Hello. What’s up?” You replied, taking in her slight smirk as you raised your eyebrow. “Miss Supreme is in a chipper mood this morning, and a little birdy told me that she asked you to stay with her last night. Is there something you wanna tell me, Y/N?” You rolled your eyes and started rummaging for clothes to change into as you spoke up, “there is nothing to tell, Coco. We were drunk, she didn’t want to sleep alone, she asked me to stay. We didn’t ‘sleep’ together. Now I am gonna take a shower, and you are gonna go do anything else.” She just laughed as she left my room, so you took the opportunity to take a quick shower.

After showering and dressing, you sat down on your bed and thought over the conversation you were gonna have with Cordelia. What would she say? What were you gonna say? You whispered to yourself and remembered Coco had half of a joint left over, so you made your way downstairs to find her. When you found Coco, she was sitting in the kitchen with Zoe and Mallory. They all looked up at you with huge grins on their face. You shook your head as you gestured for Coco to come over to you. “What’s up chick?” She asked. “Do you still have that piece on you? Cordelia wants to talk and I’d like to chill out for a minute before that happens.” She frowned and shook her head, “No I don’t have it. I finished it before I passed out last night. Go talk to her. I don’t think it will be as bad as you think” you gave her a nod and decided to just go ahead and get it over with.

When you walked into the greenhouse, you noticed Cordelia, sitting at her desk with her blonde hair thrown back in a loose ponytail. She was completely tranced with her work, which was one of the things you admired about her. No matter how powerful she was, she always worked to be smarter and stronger. Approaching her desk you leaned down and put your elbows on her desk as you smiled up at her, and her brown eyes met yours. “Good morning, Y/N” she spoke softly. “Good morning Cordelia. I got your note. Thank you for the Tylenol, good call on the hangover.” She chuckled a little as she turned her body toward you. “Yeah I had a bit of a hangover myself. I drank way too much last night.” You could feel your heart beat speed up knowing what was about to happen. “Yeah about that, I’m sorry for-“ she raised a hand to cut me off. “No. You do not apologize. I wanted you to stay with me, and I don’t regret it. I just wish it would’ve been on different circumstances.” You smiled as she chuckled as she continued, “I think you are fascinating, and I would love for you to stay with me again sometime. Maybe after a nice dinner.” Your eyes lit up at her words. “Are you asking me on a date, Ms. Goode?” She stood up positioning herself in front of you, reaching out to grab your waist. “I believe I am, Miss Y/L/N. Are you doing anything tonight?” You shook your head no and wrapped your arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. She leaned down whispered in your ear, “Be ready for 6.” She lightly brushed her lips against your ear before she pulled away and went to sit back at her desk. “And here take this with you, I wanted you sober when we talked.” She said as she handed me the other half of the joint that Coco said she finished. That woman really did know everything.

6 o’clock came sooner than you thought. You had put on a dark red dress, that fit at the top and flowed at the bottom and stopped right above your knee, hoping it was nice enough for wherever Cordelia planned to bring you. You made your way downstairs and heard a few gasps as you saw Zoe, Coco, and Misty walk out from the living room. “Where are you going looking all fancy?” Misty asked as all of their eyes moved behind you, something catching their attention. “I think she’s going on a date.” Coco replied as you turned around to see what they were looking at. Your mouth dropped as you saw Cordelia standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at you. She smiled as she made her way down, her black lace dress flowing around her legs with every step. “I uh-“ you stuttered as Cordelia stood beside you and spoke up, “She most certainly is going on a date tonight.” Your cheeks heating up as Coco winked at you. “Well y’all just look so beautiful. Y’all have fun then.” Misty said as Cordelia grabbed your hand and guided you to the door and out to the car.

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, the radio being the source of background noise. When the car pulled up to Restaurant August, you looked at Cordelia and asked, “Really? August? This is extremely nice for a first date?” As she stepped out of the car and tipped the driver, she reached down for your hand to help you out. “Well I couldn’t take my beautiful girl just anywhere.” She smirked as she put her arm around your waist. You smiled up at her as you walked into the restaurant. It was very nice, men wearing suits and ladies wearing dresses. You had never experienced anything like this. You felt your nerves building up as Cordelia walked away to speak to the hostess. You felt like you didn’t belong here, like this wasn’t real and any second you would wake up from a dream. Cordelia turned around and reached out for your hand as the girl lead the two of you to your table. You both sat down as the hostess poured each of you a water and got your drink order. “Why do you look so nervous?” Cordelia asked looking at you with her head tilted to the side. “Well to be honest, I feel really out of place. I mean this place is fancy, and you are just breathtaking. It all just kind of feels like a dream.” You looked down nervously, taking a sip of your water as your server brought you each a glass of wine. Taking your food order, the young man smiled and the left the two of you alone again. “You are the one that’s breathtaking. I honestly didn’t think you’d want to come with me.” Cordelia said softly sipping her wine, eyes locked with yours. “And why not?” You replied. She set her glass down and looked at you with a somewhat sad expression, “Well I’m older and not as attractive as some of the other girls. I figured you’d be more interested in one of them.” You placed your hand on top of hers and replied, “you are way more intelligent than any other woman I’ve met, and you are not old, Cordelia. You are absolutely stunning.” A big smile grew on her face as the waiter came back to the table with your food.

After eating and having a few more drinks, having shared stories and a laugh or two, Cordelia eventually pulled her phone out to call the driver. After a few minutes she spoke up, “Our ride is outside, you ready to go beautiful?” You blushed, and nodded getting up and following close behind her out of the restaurant. When you got to the car, she had opened the door for you then slid in behind. “I had an incredible time with you, Y/N.” Cordelia said as she slipped her hand on your thigh, tracing tiny circles with her fingers. “That was definitely one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.” she continued as she moved her hand just a little farther up your thigh. “It might be a little forward of me to ask, but I can’t help it. Would you care to stay with me tonight? I mean really stay with me? I’ve been imagining myself ripping that dress off of you since I first saw you in it.” Heat rose to your cheeks and you felt yourself getting more and more aroused. “Cordelia, if it was appropriate I’d let you rip it off of me right now.” You said, the words coming out quick and seemingly eager. She leaned closer as she reached her hand behind your neck to pull you in for a kiss, biting and pulling at your bottom lip with her teeth. She kissed your neck all the way to your ear, then whispered, “I bet you would let me do whatever I wanted, hmm? Are you gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?” You we’re so out of it, you didn’t even realize that you had made it back to the house; you only felt the loss of Cordelia’s presence as she stepped out of the car and then reached out her hand to help you out. You took her hand and the two of you began into the house and straight up the stairs to Cordelia’s room. You were very eager for whatever the Supreme had in store for you.

#cordelia x reader #Cordelia Goode #sarah paulson #sarah paulson imagine #cordelia goode imagine #shenanigans #i promise to have part 3 up soon #i may have drug this part out too long #but i think its cute #ahs coven #ahs fandom #let me know what you think #dfics