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bosbas · 2 months

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Alternate Ending: I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs

series masterlist original ending || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader, anthony bridgerton x wife!reader WC: 5.2k words (whoops I got carried away)

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, benedict being so down bad for this woman, unrequited love, pregnancy and discussions around pregnancy/birth

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

A/N: The timeline for this ending diverges after chapter 12!! This is how life would look like if Chapter 13 and onward didn't happen.

March 3, 1820 - B,

I apologize for my delayed response – I’m sure you’ll understand that I was a tad occupied giving birth. But she’s finally here! It was easier than the other three, so I'm personally delighted, though Anthony seemed just as stressed as usual. And, as usual, he'll most likely be resting for the next five days. If he ever stops looking at her in awe, that is. It would be quite adorable if I didn't need to wrestle her away from him to nurse her every few hours!

Although, I will say that Anthony being taken with her has worked out quite well for me. I was able to finish my novel and get a full night's sleep last night. I'd love to see you soon if you're up for it. You can meet her and we can discuss your latest painting, which I heard was absolutely breathtaking. Anthony and I will both be home for the next week at least, so feel free to pop by any time.

Yours, Y/I

You finished addressing the envelope to Benedict right as Anthony walked into your bedroom holding the tiny form of your newborn daughter. Twisting in your seat to face them, you cooed when you saw her fast asleep in his arms. She was wrapped in a soft pink blanket, and you couldn’t help but marvel at her tiny fists opening and closing absentmindedly as she slept. She looked so peaceful in Anthony’s arms, and it was terrifying to think that a human being this small would grow up to be an adult and that you would have to guide her through it. Well, she would have Anthony too, you thought. And the thought did a lot to quell your fears.

For as long as you had known him, Anthony had been a steadfast figure in your life. He’d been the eldest of the Beaumont-Bridgertons, and he certainly acted like it, too. The responsibility he felt for his family was evident in everything he did, and it was one of the qualities you admired most about him. Now, seeing Anthony cradle your newborn daughter with such gentleness and awe only solidified your feelings for him.

You had decidedly not been in love when you had married him, but one couldn’t simply have four children with someone and not develop at least a little affection for them. The two of you had been wonderful friends even before you were married, and you still were, but along the way, it seemed that you had learned to love each other in your own funny sort of way. It wasn’t the sort of all-consuming love you had for Benedict all those years ago, and that perhaps you had still in a corner of your heart. But it was comforting and safe and built upon a deep respect for one another, and your life was all the better for it.

Perhaps you and Ben had never been destined for a life like this, you thought. Your childhood intention to wed Benedict had been just that: a naïve plan. That night in the studio with Benedict, after he had found out in the most unfortunate manner that you and Anthony were courting, you had needed something safe and constant. And Benedict had given you the complete opposite. For so many years, he had been your anchor, but that night you felt like the ground had fallen away below your feet and you were in free fall. You had so much love for Benedict that you didn’t even know where to put it. You could feel it from your heart to your fingertips, and it was terrifying. You thought about Violet and Edmund in that moment, and how destroyed Violet had been when Edmund passed. The thought of that happening to you and Benedict made you sick. The thought of taking the risk and putting your heart in his hands only for it to crumble.

Maybe running away from Benedict at that moment was the cowardly thing to do. Maybe you should have faced your fears and given in to the overpowering love. Maybe you should have kissed your best friend and dealt with the consequences later, holding his hand the whole way through. But you hadn’t. You had sought out safety instead, running up the stairs to Anthony’s room and knocking incessantly until he opened the door, eyes startled and hand holding a handkerchief to his cut lip.

“We’re getting married,” you had declared, breathing ragged and arms crossed tightly over your chest.

“Who’s ‘we’?” he asked, hoping you meant you and Benedict but suspecting otherwise given that you were currently at his door looking furious.

“You and me. And we’re going to do it as soon as possible.”

Anthony uttered a soft, “Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. “And Benedict…” he added in a questioning tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “No Benedict.”

He had expected you to say more, but you just stood in front of him, unmoving.

“I suppose I can start the arrangements,” Anthony said finally. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

“I am sure.”

God, Benedict must have truly done something stupid, he thought. “Very well, then.”

“Good night, Anthony. We can inform our families of our engagement tomorrow morning.”

He just nodded in response, still too stunned to fully process your words.

You cleared your throat and your stoic façade faded slightly. “And thank you, Anthony. For everything,” you said, suddenly very aware of what being married to Anthony might mean.

He shook his head. “No, no. It was nothing. You are family.”

A month later, you were married at the church near Aubrey Hall. Benedict barely stayed long enough to see the two of you say your vows, citing an urgent problem with his cottage in the countryside. His family was kind enough not to question his obviously fabricated excuse, but he couldn’t miss the endless looks of pity sent his way. He had been hurt. Well, you had hurt him. You hurt him when you walked away from him, and you hurt him when you announced your engagement to your family without telling him first, but most of all, you hurt him when you chose Anthony even after two decades of history with Benedict.

Maybe none of your fears would have come true, and you and Ben would have been happy. Maybe he would have treated your heart with the same love and care with which he always treated you. But it didn’t do to dwell on what could have been. Your marriage with Anthony was real. It was concrete and it was grounding, and you couldn’t imagine a more stable presence in your life.

Bringing you out of your musings, you felt Anthony kiss your cheek in greeting and ask, “Do you want to take her?”

You nodded eagerly, setting down the letter in your hand so you could hold your daughter. “I’m surprised you’re willingly letting me have her,” you teased, laughing as Anthony all but collapsed onto the loveseat across from you, clearly exhausted.

He had been an awfully attentive father the past few days, ecstatic to finally have a girl after three boys. Though she had brought out a heightened sense of protectiveness he couldn’t seem to shake. It was rather endearing to see him so frazzled over a baby that weighed less than eight pounds, but you suspected there might be something more to it.

“She’s so tiny!” he defended, gaze fixed on her admittedly minuscule form in your arms. “I can’t help it…” He trailed off, deep in thought. You glanced up at him, noticing the change in his tone and his hunched posture. After five years of marriage, you had him memorized, and reading him came as naturally as reading a book.

“Is anything the matter?” you asked gently, already having a general idea about what was plaguing him.

But he shook his head, murmuring a soft no and focusing on the writing desk behind you instead. “Is that for Benedict?” he inquired, nodding in the direction of the letter.

“Yes, I’m just telling him that she’s here and asking him to come visit,” you answered, still eyeing him carefully.

“So, he’s coming to visit, then?” pressed Anthony, eyes back on your daughter, who was currently sleeping soundly in your arms.

“Well, I don’t see why he wouldn’t. Why do you ask?” You changed tactics, trying to seem nonchalant about your concern.

“Alright. That’s good. Yes, that’s good,” he muttered, seemingly satisfied with your answer but his mind was obviously miles away.

Growing increasingly worried, you stood up and carefully laid your daughter in her crib, ensuring she remained undisturbed. With her settled, you approached Anthony, who hadn't shifted his gaze from where you had been sitting. Kneeling beside him, you reached out and gingerly placed your hand on his. The touch seemed to quiet his restless thoughts, and he turned to meet your eyes, acknowledging the weight of his anxiety.

Anthony spoke softly, carefully. “I just want to make sure that you and the children are taken care of. In case something happens to me. I want you to have someone.”

You should have known that this was what plagued him. During the first year of your marriage, you settled into a comfortable dynamic with Anthony. It was not quite love, but something like it had blossomed between the two of you. However, it was after the birth of your first son, Arthur, that Anthony reached a breaking point. He realized that his grand plan to marry someone he didn’t love to avoid any undue heartbreak was not, in fact, foolproof. Even if there hadn’t been growing affection between you, Anthony completely fell in love with Arthur from the moment he was born. It was like nothing he’d experienced before; beyond anything he could have imagined. And it was terribly frightening.

He had shared his fears with you–he’d had no choice in the matter when you were as stubborn and insistent as you were–and you had shared that you, too, were scared. But you trusted one another, and so the two of you navigated parenthood in tandem and Anthony’s fears subsided. Regardless, you could understand that the birth of your daughter brought back this fear in full force, and he felt a greater need to protect her from danger than he would with his sons.

“Anthony, I won’t need someone. You’re right here, and you always will be.”

He shook his head, looking at you with desperation in his eyes. “How can you know that?”

You pursed your lips, brows furrowing. “Even if you aren’t, it won’t be your fault. You’re a wonderful father. And a wonderful husband.”

With a deep sigh, he clasped your hand and stood up, bringing you with him. “Just promise me you’ll ask Benedict to take care of you if I go?”

Your heart softened. Knowing he needed to hear you say it out loud, you nodded, “I promise.”

---

March 5, 1820 – Y/I,

One would think Anthony had been the one to give birth instead of you! I’ll pop by today to give him a talking-to. And to meet my lovely niece, of course.

Yours, B

You found yourself in the nursery this afternoon, your three boys gathered around you and your daughter fast asleep in her crib. It was a lovely day out; sunny but not too hot, but the boys hardly noticed. Instead, they sat still, completely enthralled as you read from your current novel. Though you adored reading to your children, you found children’s books rather boring and repetitive. Thus, you had shifted to reading them excerpts from your own reading material. It made the endeavor much more interesting, and the boys seemed to love it too, evident as they hung on your every word.

“‘Listen to me, Frankenstein. You accuse me of murder,’” you read, and your sons gasped, not quite understanding the meaning of the word but easily catching onto your surprised reaction. You continued, “‘and yet you would, with a satisfied conscience, destroy your own creature. Oh, praise the eternal justice of man! Yet I ask-’”

“Surely I’ve heard wrong and you’re not reading to your children about murder!” came Benedict’s voice from the doorway.

Immediately, three voices squealed in delight and Frankenstein was completely forgotten as your sons rushed over to their uncle. Charles was only one year old, but his brothers’ excitement only fueled his clumsy crawl toward Benedict’s waiting arms.

“They don’t exactly know what it means, Ben,” you laughed. “Besides, it’s wonderful literature. And it keeps them entertained.”

He picked up Charles in one arm and Arthur in the other, making his way over to you as Bernard clung to his leg. “Well, I’m sure you know better than me, darling,” he commented and kissed you sweetly on the top of your head.

“Isn’t that usually the case?” you teased, standing up to properly greet your best friend. Though you hadn’t joined the welcome committee, you were positively glowing now that Ben had arrived. It had been over a week since you had seen him, and you had missed him terribly. You smiled brightly, instantly at ease in his presence.

Eyebrows raised and eyes shining with mirth, he teased back, “You forget I have three very bloodthirsty boys on my side who have just learned what murder is.”

You looked at Arthur, who was completely focused on attempting to undo Benedict’s cravat, and Charles, who had two fingers in his mouth and was unsuccessfully attempting to put in a third, then glanced back at Benedict.

“Quite bloodthirsty, aren’t they?” you deadpanned as you gently pried Charles’ hand from his mouth.

Ben couldn’t help the waves of laughter rolling off him as he observed your sons. “It seems they still have a way to go before they get there.”

Then, spotting the pink crib across the room, he gasped and set down Arthur and Charles and somewhat successfully shook Bernard off his leg. Walking over to the crib, he stared at her, completely awestruck.

"She’s so tiny!” he exclaimed, careful to keep his voice down so as not to wake her.

You giggled, making your way over. “That’s exactly what Anthony said,” you smiled at him.

But your smile did nothing to soothe the dull ache that had blossomed in his chest as he remembered all the things he could have had with you. The pain was not as unbearable now as it had been five years ago, but he was inclined to think that it would be there for the rest of his life. In the back of his mind, Benedict wondered if he would have been as good of a father as Anthony. He supposed he would never know, having devoted himself completely to his art and extinguishing any lingering hopes Violet had that her second son would ever marry. But you seemed happy, and that was truly all that mattered.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, he smiled sweetly back down at you. “What’s her name? Something starting with a D, I’m sure. Otherwise, Anthony will have lost his mind.”

“Yes, naturally,” you giggled. You tugged on Ben’s sleeve to bring him closer to the crib. “Benedict, meet Diana Bridgerton.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bridgerton,” he murmured, intently observing your daughter as she slowly blinked her eyes open.

“Quite eager to meet her uncle,” you observed, but Benedict was too mesmerized by her to respond properly.

“She’s got your eyes,” he whispered after a few seconds, turning back to you and placing an arm around you. Your arm snaked around his back, and you drew him in a little closer.

Leaning down to place his cheek on your head and hugging you tighter, he spoke softly, “I thought you might name her Daisy. Flower names and all that. Besides, it starts with a D.”

Benedict didn’t quite know where the comment had come from. You hadn’t mentioned flower names in years, but the thought had suddenly popped into his brain quite unexpectedly and he had been unable to stop the words coming out of his mouth. He knew he was so incredibly lucky to know you and to love you and to have a friendship with you, but it was at times like these when he wished he didn’t know you quite so well. At times when knowing you was only a reminder of what he lost.

In that moment, you were thankful to be facing Diana’s crib instead of Benedict, because you could feel the tears prickling at your eyes. The flower names. Of course Benedict would have remembered. You had never truly regretted marrying Anthony, but what you had with Ben transcended anything you could ever have with anyone else, and sometimes it was hard to come to terms with the fact that he wasn’t your person anymore.

Shaking your head to will the tears away, you responded, “No. No, I could never.”

“What? You always said you wanted to name your children flower names.”

“No, Benedict. I wanted to name our children flower names.”

He felt all the air in his lungs escaping all at once. It felt as if someone had reached deep inside of him, taken hold of every organ inside his body, and squeezed very tightly. Wanted to name our children. Our children. Our. Just a simple word, three letters in total, had managed to leave him completely disarmed.

It was silly, really. You were married and had four children with his brother, of all people. And Benedict was still completely and irrevocably in love with you. He rather thought that he would always love you, in some form or another. Benedict suspected that Anthony knew this too, though his older brother was far too tactful to ever broach the subject.

Seemingly unaware of Ben's internal turmoil as he tried to reduce his feelings to their usual dormant state, you grabbed hold of his hand and led him away from Diana toward the door. “Nurse Edwards can watch the children while we go downstairs to have some tea. I must hear about your painting displayed at the National Gallery! I wish I hadn’t been about two days from bursting so I could have gone to see the unveiling.”

---

November 17, 1820 – Benedict,

Y/N has fallen ill, and I am away on business unable to tend to her. Go to Aubrey Hall as soon as possible and make sure she’s alright.

Please.

Anthony

Benedict could barely hear the rain pouring down outside his carriage over his racing heartbeat. Anthony’s frantic note had left Ben in a state of panic. He had left for Aubrey Hall immediately upon receiving the note, but he still worried that he might be too late. What on earth had frightened his older brother to the point of asking Benedict for help? A million possibilities, each one as devastating as the other, raced through his mind.

The sight of your home interrupted his catastrophizing, and he swung the door open and ran toward the entrance before the carriage could come to a complete stop. Benedict was somewhat aware that he was getting completely drenched in the rain, but his mind was far too focused on getting to you to care.

The front door was already open when he reached it, and Benedict burst through, barely hearing the butler’s, “Upstairs in her bedchamber, Mr Bridgerton,” before he was frantically climbing the stairs to get to you.

Once he reached your door, Ben stopped quite suddenly. He didn’t want to startle you by bursting in unannounced, so he waited a few seconds to catch his breath. Finally, he turned the doorknob slowly, hands shaking nervously as he entered your bedroom.

In between shockingly vivid dreams and a splitting headache, you vaguely registered what looked to be Benedict’s tall frame standing in your room. You shook your head, confused by his presence and not quite trusting your own eyes, but the effort left you breathless and you coughed violently.

“It’s alright, darling. You just rest,” he shushed you, shrugging off his drenched coat before he came to your side.

It killed him to see you like this, pale and sweaty as shivers wracked through your tired body. He had never seen you look so ill, not even when you came down with influenza when you were ten years old, and he was trying his hardest to hold himself together.

“Have you called for a medic?” his voice came out a bit strangled as he asked your lady’s maid, Rose, who had been nervously fidgeting off to the side.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. It's pneumonia," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "The best we can do is keep her comfortable and give her fluids until her fever breaks."

He nodded, running his hands through his hair in an attempt to calm down. But you had drifted into fitful sleep, and your shallow, ragged breathing was only making him more worried.

Nevertheless, he had to think clearly. Anthony was away, meaning that Benedict was now entirely responsible for you. The realization steeled his nerves, so he straightened his waistcoat and released a controlled breath, ready to face whatever came his way.

“Where are the children? I trust Nurse Edwards is with them now,” he said firmly.

Rose nodded. “They’re asleep now, but she is there in case they need anything. They’re taken care of,” she reassured.

“Very well. Please let me know if I can be of any assistance to them.” Then, clearing his throat, “Ring for tea, please,” he instructed. “And bring me towels and a bowl of lukewarm water.”

She nodded, hurrying out of the room. Benedict moved closer to your bedside, his heart twisting at the sight of you in distress. He didn't hesitate, pulling a chair close to the bed and sitting down beside you. Gently, he reached out to feel your burning forehead, but you immediately flinched, the pain evident in your eyes as they shot open.

“Too cold,” you rasped. “Please don’t.”

He cursed under his breath, heart cracking slightly at your reaction. But he withdrew his hand immediately, settling instead for sitting on a chair next to your bed, watching you intently for any signs that your condition was worsening.

You looked awfully pale, paler than he’d ever seen you, and your lips had turned a concerning shade of purple. Though even when you were drenched in sweat and shivering, you still were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, he thought. Even now, years after you had married another man, you remained his muse. The heartbreak he experienced that summer had been an admittedly excellent source of inspiration, and his new works helped propel him forward in the art world. It had served as a distraction, proving especially useful when Ben heard the news that you were pregnant for the first time so soon after the wedding. But now he supposed that art was no longer a distraction, and had instead become his life.

Maybe it was better this way, he sometimes thought. Maybe fate had never intended for him to be with you, though he couldn't fathom why the universe seemed so cruel. But the conclusion that he most often came to is that this was some sort of punishment. And he supposed he rather deserved it. He had continuously run away from the person he loved most, his best friend, the love of his life, time and again while you had only waited patiently for him to love you back.

Looking down at you now, he still felt the need to take care of you. The instinct would never go away. But it was a shame that the only reason he was allowed to do it now was because your husband had asked him to.

Your lady’s maid cleared her throat, standing at the doorway with the items Benedict had requested. He waved her in and had her place the tea on your bedside table, but he took hold of the towels himself and dipped one of them in the bowl of water.

“How long have you been here?” Ben asked Rose, taking in her exhausted appearance.

“Since midmorning, Mr Bridgerton,” she responded, stifling a yawn. "But I'm happy to do it. Lady Bridgerton seems to need it, too."

“Well, I think you ought to go to bed now, Rose,” he responded, gently placing the damp towel on your forehead. You let out a soft sigh of relief, and the tightness in Benedict’s heart loosened the tiniest bit.

Hearing his words, Rose could have collapsed right then and there. “Thank you, Mr Bridgerton. Please call for one of the servants if you need anything,” she said gratefully. And then, before he could change his mind, she hurried out of your bedroom.

The towel had seemed to rouse you from your sleep, and you sat up weakly so you could take in your surroundings.

You opened your eyes, happy to find Benedict still in your room. “Hello, there,” you croaked, but he shushed you, immediately holding a teacup to your lips. You took a hesitant sip, but the warm liquid ran down your throat so soothingly that you grasped the cup with your own hands and drank the entire thing.

Ben laughed softly, delicately taking the teacup from you so as not to touch you, not having forgotten your earlier protests when he placed a hand on your forehead.

“How long have you been here?” you asked Benedict, a particularly strong shiver making your teeth chatter. Noting his look of concern, you rushed to reassure him, “I’m fine, Ben. Promise.” However, you didn’t know how convincing you had sounded, given that you started violently coughing immediately after the words left your lips.

“I can see that. You look great,” teased Benedict.

“I bet,” you shot back, and he was unable to keep the fond smile off his face. “I’m–” you started, but another coughing fit prevented you from continuing. He looked at you, eyes overflowing with worry, and exchanged the towel on your forehead for a fresh one, hoping it would provide at least some relief.

Once your coughing fit subsided, you were overtaken by a wave of exhaustion. Sliding back down into bed, you turned to Benedict. “I think I need to sleep if that’s alright,” you said softly, eyes already drooping shut.

“Mmm, I think so, too,” he agreed.

You reached out and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and bringing your joined hands to your chest. “Please stay, Ben,” you said, eyes already closed.

His heart nearly skipped a beat, having completely forgotten just how right your hand felt in his. “Always,” he murmured, reaching over to kiss you on the forehead. Benedict settled into the chair beside your bed, carefully watching you to make sure your breathing remained even.

An hour later, a particularly intense shiver ran through you and you woke up to find that you were still clutching Benedict’s hand. He was staring at you intently, and you felt an overwhelming sense of tenderness for him. Even though you had married Anthony, he was still here by your side, ensuring that you were safe. Even though you probably looked about two minutes away from death, and even though he probably had much more interesting things to do, he was here.

“I’m sorry, you know,” you whispered, not quite sure you wanted him to hear but needing to say it anyway.

His brow furrowed, not quite sure why you were apologizing. “It’s quite alright.”

“No, I am. I’m so sorry,” you said, barely registering the tears running down your face and mixing with your sweat.

Ben wiped away your tears with one hand, the other still holding yours. “There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered.

You shook your head and the towel fell from your forehead once again, which he immediately replaced with a new one. “I don’t regret marrying him, but I regret hurting you,” you choked back a sob. “It was cowardly of me, and I’m sorry.”

Benedict was at a loss, your confession bringing his complicated feelings to the surface. But before he could find the right words, you had fallen asleep once again, eyes closed peacefully and your breathing even. He sat back in shock, attempting to process the meaning behind your words while still being careful not to move his hand too much so you could sleep peacefully.

Benedict sat there for what felt like hours, his mind in a whirlwind of emotions. Guilt weighed heavily on his heart as he watched you sleep, your hand still clasped in his. Surely you were at least a little delirious, he reasoned. How could you apologize for something he had caused?

Hours later, the morning sun filtered through your curtains and you stirred awake. You blinked your eyes open, a bit disoriented as you took in your surroundings. You glanced down, seeing Ben sitting in a chair next to your bed, fast asleep in what looked to be an incredibly uncomfortable position. Your hand was still clasped in Benedict’s, his thumb absently stroking the back of your hand. You felt a pang of guilt at the sight and cringed slightly as you remembered your tearful apology the previous night.

Sensing that you were awake, Benedict stirred, half opening his eyes to make sure you were alright. Wincing as his neck cracked, he sat up and asked groggily, “How’re you feeling this morning, darling?”

“Much better, actually,” you responded.

A sudden wave of panic washed over you. “Who’s with the children?”

“Don’t worry! They’re alright. Nurse Edwards is with them,” he assured you. “Perhaps it’s for the best; they might get to engage with some books actually meant for children.” He kept his tone light and teasing, not entirely sure if you remembered your apology and not wanting to open up the conversation if you didn’t.

“Oh, thank you,” you sighed in relief, relaxing against your pillows once again. Then, swatting his arm, you scolded, “And they enjoy the literature, mind you!”

“I suppose you are feeling better if you had the strength to hit me,” he remarked amusedly.

You rolled your eyes. “I could have hit you last night. Easily.” But your expression turned sincere. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t mean to be a burden; I know you’re working on a new piece.”

“It’s nothing,” he waved his hand. “You could never be a burden.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly, suddenly looking anywhere but at him. “And I meant what I said last night. It was ill-timed, I know, but I am truly sorry.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head. “There is nothing to apologize for. I didn’t treat you the way I should have and I was the one who hurt you. I’m just glad I can still have you as a best friend.”

You smiled at him, pulling him into a hug. “We seem to be quite good at that, don’t you think? Being best friends.”

“Oh, the best,” he smiled at you, adoration clear in his eyes.

—

orginal ending || next part || buy me a ko-fi!

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everythingacotarbxm1012 · 1 month

Text

Do That Again

Summary - You meet a certain fellow after your roommate starts dating some guy.

Content Warnings - Language, heavy drinking, characters getting drunk, underaged drinking (please tell me if I missed anything)

A/N - I wrote this mostly because there are definitely a lack of Cassian x Reader fics out there and as much as I love Cass and Nesta, this felt necessary. *Do not repost my work without my express permission.* *Do not copy my work.*

1k words

✨ 💫

You and Cassian. Cassian and you. Attached at the hip in every sense of the phrase. If someone was looking for one of you, they’d find the other. The only time you weren’t together is if you didn’t have a class together or if one of you was going to the bathroom and even then if one of you was drunk enough… you might be in a close proximity.

You met Cassian through your friend and roommate, Feyre. Feyre, after a shitty high school boyfriend, met Rhysand at a party. Rhys was… well he was something. It was one of those situations where someone falls first and the other falls harder. Feyre fell hard. Like inches of cement hard. You’d be grinning with smug intent while Feyre’s face was absolutely red after getting back from an evening out with Rhys. Somewhere in the madness of first year the two crazy kids finally were official. You ensured you would meet him before summer break. You did.

As Feyre’s friend, and body-guard , you were of course critical of the man. He certainly had an ego. But below it all he felt right for your friend. He treated her like an individual, a partner—not a possession. The same night you met Cassian at a party. Admittedly you were a little drunk. Okay, you were more than a little drunk. Okay, fine! You were very drunk. Like hookup-with-your-friend drunk. Thankfully he was drunk too, less drunk, but still drunk. Somewhere between the drinks, bad music, and watching Feyre and Rhys be sickeningly smitten with each other you and Cassian found a connection. It was like in kindergarten when your eyes land on any random person in the room and think, you’re cool and we’re friends now.

You woke up the following morning with a hang-over on a couch to Feyre and Rhys stifling laughter. Your friend informed you it was the suite Rhysand and his friends shared on campus. How a group of first-years got that was beyond you, but you didn’t complain. You were still wearing your clothes and thanked the heavens you saw no vomit either. You managed yourself awake to see Cassian sprawled on the floor. You met Azriel that morning.

“For the headache,” he said, as he offered you a glass of water and Aspirin.

The three of you suffered while Feyre and Rhys remained wrapped up in each other all morning.

The connection with Cassian only grew faster. You kept in contact over the summer, both constantly joking about the disgust you felt for the budding relationship between your friends. In truth you both were happy for Rhys and Feyre. Upon your return for your Sophomore year of university, the friendship solidified itself. You were constantly together. Staying up late to get work done, eating, studying, getting stupid drunk at parties. Despite the humor and jokes, you also found a deep comfort from each other.

Cassian adored physical contact, which was perfect because you did too. Something you discovered when you woke up on the couch in the suite to your dear friend have a nightmare.

“Just a nightmare, Cass. Just a nightmare,” you reassured him. He had clung to you, falling back asleep soon after.

By the end of Sophomore year, you were literally inseparable, constantly draping over the other whenever you hung out as a group. A group you drunkenly named, Rhysand’s IC , because he was constantly parenting the rest of you alongside Feyre. IC standing for Idiot Children .

One particularly very early morning, around 1am, you and Cass were draped over each other on the couch in the suite. The conversation topic was stupid things you did as children, and Cassian was letting out a particularly loud laugh when a cold-faced looking Az stepped out of his room, asking you to “pipe down”.

Your junior year, Cassian managed a suite that could fit you and Feyre and you all lived together. Often times the night would end with Feyre and Rhys finding themselves together with you and Cassian sitting together having a drink while you braided Cass’s shoulder-length hair, talking about trivial matters.

Your final year, Feyre and Rhys chose to live off campus because they wanted a place to themselves leaving you, Cass, and Az to fend for yourselves. Az wound up with a single while you and Cassian chose to share a room to be closer to the center of campus. Azriel was a floor above you. You spent night after together, sitting in the corner of your room, watching a movie together, or talking, or sitting in silence enjoying the other’s company. In hindsight it was crazy how quickly college had gone by.

Cassian had become your dearest friend through it all. His humor you adored, but it was his caring and passionate nature which had you feeling more deeply for him. And suddenly you were stumbling back from an We’re Almost Graduated party Rhys and Feyre hosted.

✨💫

“There’s a spider on your shoulder!!” You shout as you stumble into your dorm room with Cass. You cackle as Cass squeals, squeezing his eyes shut.

You step forward to flick the spider off his shoulder and he screams making you laugh and nearly keel over. He catches you before you do, a hand landing on your hip. An electric buzz bolts through you. For all the times you’d been in contact this felt different. Maybe it’s the alcohol, the fact that his hand has never been on your hip before, or the the excitement of graduation.

“Cass?” You ask him, his hand still resting against your hip. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Y/N?” His question is met with a moment of silence. And then suddenly Cassian’s hands are cupping your cheeks and he’s kissing you.

Your eyes flutter shut before he’s pulling away. The kiss somehow intoxicating and sobering. There’s a stupid grin on your best friends face. “You know how long I’ve wanted to do that?”

He’s met with silence for a while. You are unable to move. Finally you manage words. “Do that again.”

There is a mild question in his eyes.

“Do that again,” you repeat.

Cassian doesn’t need to be told a third time.

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #acotar #cassian acotar #feyre x rhysand #feyre x rhysand x cassian x reader x azriel (platonic)#rhysand x cassian x azriel (platonic)#modern au #modern au at university

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lillysbigwilly · 1 year

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i fcking love streamer!ellie but what if reader was the streamer?! imagine ellie being a huge fan and always leaving comments during her stream. she's also internally freaking out when she meets the reader in person and experiencing gay panic, at the same time, because "holy sht she is the prettiest person i've ever seen in my entire fcking life."

okay it’s official, anon i absolutely love you, you god 🤍

streamer!reader x Ellie Williams head canons

can i appoint myself the queen of streamer!ellie head canons or is that narcissistic (leave requests my loves)

it would 100% start off with ellie being bored shitless, hopping through tv channels, netflix, youtube etc before finally turning to a streaming sight.

she loves gaming and often finds herself on that platform however she’s never seen you before that day. you were pretty big, rolling in about 50k viewers per stream but you were more of a baking stream, qna stream person rather than gaming

however, your friends had persuaded you to play a story game for that stream. you honestly couldn’t remember the name but it was some sort of zombie apocalypse one

it was fun and ellie actually sat through your whole stream.

after that, she had subscribed (in which you read out her username and she literally almost screamed hearing your pretty voice say her name) and she watched every other stream after that

she favoured the baking ones, seeing you all dressed up with a cute lil apron on over your clothes.

and ellie liked you even more when you made weed brownies live. saying they where ‘funny’ brownies so you didn’t get demonetised

she thought you were absolutely stunning and quickly ranked up to one of your favourite fans with her silly comments and the sweetest complements on each of your streams.

plus she sent you a lot of money.

it was actually after your birthday stream that she met you in real life.

she had been watching for a little over a year and you had gone out with your friends to celebrate your birthday after a short stream

as you were walking down the road to meet said friends , you noticed a pair of eyes on you which wasn’t unusual since you were pretty well known however you recognised her face from somewhere.

ellie’s eyes widened as you walked closer to her. her cheeks flushed red as she subtly looked you up and down. gay mother fucking panic.

now the girl knew she didn’t like men and only liked women but shit did you solidify it. she had been with girls before but you were something else

“i know you” is the first words you said to ellie and her heart just about stopped beating. sure, you acknowledged her online. even becoming mutuals after a comment she left on your post made you laugh but you knowing ellie? impossible “ellie right”

she didn’t trust her voice so she simply nodded. her response made you smile.

you gave her your number, it was dangerous. you didn’t know if she would leak it or whatever but you still did it and it was the best damned decision ever.

you know what they say about lesbians moving quick as fuck. yeah that was true for you and ellie. literally going on a date one week, making it official the next and then she practically moved in after that

neither of you mind, ellie chipped in with food and rent even though you told her you had enough.

(imagine you had ended up with dealer!ellie😳 that itself is a whole other story)

she would start joining your streams, fans would speculate and obviously it was true but they didn’t need to know that just yet.

it was only when you were spotted together holding hands and kissing that i officially came out that you we’re together (celeb tearoom type shit. TMZ drama alert and all that covered it)

you would often try to correlate outfits when you streamed together, if you had pink on then so did she.

there was the usual jealous people that commented against ellie and it did hurt at the beginning. nothing a few words of encouragement and steamy nights with you couldn’t fix.

seriously though, most of your fans adored her. she was quite shy at first and saw how absolutely smitten you were with each other. obsessed with the way you looked at each other when the other looked away

cooking streams that end up being a nightmare. flour and shit everywhere.

speaking of flour. the fans realised you had a special someone in your life when flowers started appearing in the back of your streams. often hung upside down so they last longer.

you eventually get matching tattoos, little hearts on your wrists both with red ink. meaningful but not big. you were both sure you were in it forever but just in case.

(unrelated but imagine ellie with a nose ring)

your fans were nosy sure but they were damn respectful - minus the odd few. if it was obvious you were on a date, all dressed up and i’m a fancy restaurant, they will not interfere which you were super appreciative about

the fans could tell you were in love with each other from day one

#the last of us #fanfic #ellie williams #wlw #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie tlou #headcanon #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x reader #streamer!reader #fan!ellie #gamer!ellie #streamer!ellie

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lunar-years · 5 months

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and like, the thing about the amsterdam james lore was that if they wanted a james redemption, they could have used that as an opportunity to soft launch it! "my dad took me to amsterdam and we actually had a good time, but after we got back home he started drinking again and things got bad again." i still dont think thats justification for jamie reconnecting with him, but at least we could have canon evidence he was an okay dad when sober. but no, they doubled down, and made trying to kill a main character somehow *not* the worst thing james had done

Yeah I think what's most crazy is that scene solidified in my own mind so many missing pieces in my own headcanoned Jamie lore. We learnt SO much in that scene and not one single piece of information pointed towards "this is a character who is going to not only recover but act as a non-negative presence in Jamie's life."

New information I gathered from the Amsterdam scene:

As you pointed out, physical/emotional abuse of his son and nearly murdering Beard are not the topmost crimes on James Sr.'s scorecard.

leading into, Jamie is a csa victim

Jamie doesn't remember it happening. we've discussed at length what that could stem from and yes there are multiple explanations but. well. uhh. none of them are good. i think.

Others disagree, and that's completely fine, but I very much think the scene is coded as This Is The First Time Jamie Has Told Anyone What Happened and Roy is Now the Only Person Who Has this Information.

At the time of taking Jamie to Amsterdam, James Sr. was trying to get back together with Georgie and playing up the "Superdad" routine

Others disagree with this as well, but I read that line as Jamie implying it was neither the first nor last time James had tried those tactics (and possibly been successful at one or more points, we don't know one way or another)

Georgie allowed Jamie to go to Amsterdam with James and then presumably allowed James to continue seeing Jamie afterwards (we're given no information to the contrary, anyway)

So taking all of that together, to me it's not just the confirmation that the abuse Jamie suffered at his father's hands was even more abhorrent than we thought or that Jamie's trauma runs deeper than we previously thought. It's also evidence that Jamie has never been in a position where he's felt comfortable with confronting that trauma and has yet to unpack all of the things he has gone through.

Furthermore, the scene hints that what we see at the end of s3 is (imo quite possibly) not the first time James has been in rehab or at least claimed to have sobered up or shown signs of recovery, only to fall back into his old ways shortly afterwards. This is indicated by Georgie allowing him to take their son out of the country, which (considering we meet her later in the season and get a sense of her character, including her deep love for her son) I cannot imagine her doing had James been obviously still a drunk. This is also why I personally believe Jamie hasn't told her what happened, because he continues to see his father after he returns. I just can't see Georgie allowing that had she known.

None of this sets the scene for a successful James recovery arc. In fact, for me it makes the whole thing worse and so unlikely to end for good because 1) Jamie forgives his father before even processing everything his father did to him, and without informing any of the people closest to him, let alone consulting an actual professional. This to me does not indicate Jamie is in the right mental place to be embarking on this new journey. 2) There is absolutely a more-than-plausible chance James Sr.'s current rehab stint will follow the same cycle as times previous: he's better for a while. he's superdad! until he's not. and Jamie as usual becomes collateral damage.

I therefore am forced to conclude Jamie could very well be opening himself up to more hurt and more pain at his father's hands, when he hasn't even dealt with his current backload of hurt and pain. If we were supposed to feel hopeful in the final scene where Jamie visits him--I have to say, because of what THEY told us and wrote about their backstory, I feel anything but.

#jamie tartt #james tartt sr #tw csa #tw abuse #tw rape #asks #ted lasso #ted lasso critical #it's just. so badly written if they wanted us to be hopeful.#obviously I think anyone can recover even if they haven’t from past attempts but.#they gave us every reason to be worried about Jamie!! they did that!!

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alicentes · 6 days

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The whole Larys/Alicent bothers me not just because it’s another example of the writers fetishising female abuse and unnecessary ableism but simply from a writing perspective it doesn’t make any sense!

Naerys and Rhaella Targaryen were one of the most victimised women in House Targaryen but even then I would shout “jumping the shark” if George implied some lowly Lord can make them preform unwanted sexual acts.

So if it’s unrealistic for these two how tf does it make sense for Alicent??? She’s the most powerful woman in Westeros, one word from her Criston would gut Larys, Aemond would feed him to Vhagar, Aegon would have him executed, hell even Viserys would do something!

She’s so above him in the pecking order it’s insane, but the writers don’t respect her so this is what she’s been reduced to.

I agree it’s absolutely nonsensical and there’s no way he’d get away with sexually abusing the queen of the seven kingdoms. No matter how much blackmail meterial some random lord would have on a royal, they’d be losing their tongue or their head at the mere suggestion of sexual favours in exchange for information or their silence. Vaemond lost his head, with no arrest or trial in front of a crowd for calling Rhaenyra a whole and no one did anything so Larys has nothing over Alicent.

Even if I was willing to suspend my belief enough to think Alicent wouldn’t pull rank and threaten him with execution for kinslaying at the mere suggestion of sexual favour - let’s say Alicent is so used to being abused and used that she feels powerless to stop it - it’s still a huge stretch to believe any targaryen Queen would be abused by a lowly lord

I also find it highly unlikely that criston wouldn’t figure it out something was wrong given that he’s her personal guard and would likely be outside. He spends enough time with her to notice if she was in distress or if she would arrange for him not to be around with larys there he’d get suspicious and given that he killed a man over a disrespectful comment towards Ali, and got away with it, he would brutally murder Larys over assaulting her and face no consequences. Aemond is also very perceptive when it comes to Alicent and her emotions so he might get suspicious of Larys, who would then become a dragon snack before Aemond even gets the full story. Aegon despite being shown as lazy and uninterested in the goings on would also jump at the chance of feeding larys to sunfyre. I’d argue that Otto, the hand who is essentially acting in place of the king wouldn’t allow his daughter, the queen, to be subjected to sexual exploitation by a lowly lord and would likely have larys report to him with any information with the constant threat of execution hanging over him. Even if they want to strip Alicent of her power and autonomy, the idea that the powerful men (bc they love saying she lives in service of men) in her family, her loyal murderous guard and even her sickly king husband would allow this to happen for 6+ years and just wouldn’t notice I’d ridiculous.

I’m sure they’ve got some weird thing about using sexual abuse to punish Alicent for “choosing the side of men” and also keeping her in a victim role, instead of a leadership role. even when she is supposed to be the most powerful player in the room. The fact that they allegedly wrote a scene where blood rapes Alicent during the murder of her grandson, in front of Helaena and the children, a scene disgusting enough that Olivia outright refused and caused her, Matt and Emma to call a meeting last year to get the scene removed from the script just solidifies for me that they’re doing exactly what d&d did by using rape and SA as shock value and torture porn. At least d&d never tried hiding behind a “feminist perspective”

#i seriously have concerns about how rape and sa and the portrayal of victims in s2 i don’t even want to watch it atp #anti hotd #house of the dragon #hotd spoilers #alicent hightower #rape tw

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leslie-lyman · 2 years

Text

Euclidean Geometry

Summary: They make no attempt to define what this is, who they are to each other. All they know is that now they are together.

Pairing: Modern!Pero x Frankie x Jack x f!reader (sort of, this is in the third person, reader is referred to only as she/her)

Rating: E 🚨 absolutely no minors

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: smut, M/M and M/M/F; some implied D/s dynamics; allusions to the lingering trauma of military service

A/n: I don’t know what this is (other than absurdly self-indulgent nonsense), but this idea hooked its claws into me and this is what resulted. It’s just kind of a series of snapshots, really. No plot, just vibes. There may be more after this, we’ll see.

Masterlist.

———

They don’t meet each other until after their time in the service.

Thank god, Pero tells them. I surely would have otherwise murdered you both long before now.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one: three veterans walk into group therapy…

A Delta Force pilot in recovery. A surly Field Artillery officer. A cocky Air Force fighter pilot with a name as ridiculous as his skills in a jet. All here because they are each too full of anger with nowhere to put it.

Talking at therapy turns into talking at a bar after each session. They circle each other, like a pod of killer whales, or maybe like galaxies, pulling closer and closer together over bottles of beer and games of pool.

None of them can say the exact moment it became more. Was it the first time Jack accidentally brushed a hand across the small of Frankie’s back as they walked out of the bar one night, and he felt the shiver that went up the other man’s spine? Was it the night Pero finally spoke about the loss of his first love, his description of William and his death on a desert battlefield making all three men shed silent tears in the privacy of a dark corner booth? Surely it had to have been long before they found themselves in Jack’s bed that first time, letting their bodies say what they could not yet find words for: I want you, I trust you, I know you, I see you.

They make no attempt to define what this is, who they are to each other. All they know is that now they are together.

They each crack the others open, the process of healing as painful and beautiful as filling in their scars with gold.

And then there is her.

The relationship between the three men had not been a closed loop, not at first. There had been times where one of them (Jack, more often than the others) had gone off and for a one- or two- or (never more than) three-night stand with another person. And there had been other times where two or even all three of them had shared a temporary partner. But with her, it clicks, it solidifies. They stop searching for more, for new, for other.

If three’s a crowd, what is four? A square, a shape beautiful in its simple perfection, a shape that can only be composed of equals - each line and each angle taking up equivalent space, none more or less important than any of the others, and each one essential.

It’s her, Frankie says. I never thought I could need or want more than the two of you, but it’s her. Now we fit. Now we are complete. Now I understand.

It’s a push and pull.

She worries, at first, about being the outsider, the civilian. These men have known too much, seen too much, lost too much. They may not have served together, but they have a connection to each other in a way she knows she will never share. Isn’t she selfish for wanting all of them? What if she’s intruding?

Never, darlin’, Jack promises her.

They always worry about it being too much, of them being too much, in her life and especially in her bed. What woman would accept any one of them, with their still-open wounds and their ghosts and their raw, ragged edges, let alone all three of them? But with her there is light and warmth and laughter and quiet reassurance. And the way she cries and begs for them when they have her naked against cool sheets - needy and eager and so, so wet - means they always give in to her.

———

To the extent that there is an alpha, it’s Frankie, his quiet, unassuming manner giving way to something both commanding and depraved when given an appropriate outlet.

She comes home one day to find Frankie on the edge of the bed, Jack in his lap with Frankie’s cock buried inside him and Jack’s hands tied behind his back with his own whip. She can’t see from the doorway to know for sure, but from the way Frankie’s arm moves and the slick repetitive sound she suspects he has his palm wrapped around Jack’s cock.

I think Pero’s about to have dinner ready, she says. Frankie doesn’t look away from Jack’s face.

Thanks, baby, Frankie murmurs. We’ll be done here in a minute.

Jack says nothing. Frankie is the only man capable of rendering him speechless.

———

Some things linger from their time in the military. They rise early without fail and without alarms. They note the exits of any room they enter. They are a unit.

She introduces a necessary messiness into their lives. They can’t make the bed the way years of routine make them itch to when she’s still fast asleep in it long after they’ve woken up. And that’s okay - the rigidity of the Army, the Air Force, isn’t their lives anymore. Not if they don’t want it to be. Slowly, first through therapy and then through each other, they learn how to let certain things go.

They are, the four of them, deeply loyal and fiercely protective of one another. But Pero, more than any of the others, is possessive. He feels it like a dark, smouldering ember in his heart that flares hot and angry at any perceived threat. He worries, sometimes, not wanting it to fester into something unhealthy and poisonous. It manifests in the marks he leaves on their skin, the outline of his teeth sunk into the meat of Frankie’s shoulder and Jack’s chest, purple bruises sucked into their girl’s throat, her breasts, her thighs…

There are moments where he allows it out of its cage, this need to lay claim. Moments where the others are tangled together and Pero sits apart, content to observe. Moments where their girl writhes between Frankie and Jack, stretched wide on both their cocks, all three of them panting with that heady mix of exertion and pleasure.

Another, Pero growls from his place in the corner armchair. Make her come again.

She lets out a breathy whine as Jack reaches around her to rub at her clit with one hand, the other pulling Frankie close for a lazy kiss. Pero slowly strokes his own hard length, that feeling of possession now shot through with pride. She turns her head in his direction and reaches for him, their girl (his girl) full to the brim and still needing him.

He indulges her, coming close and planting one knee on the bed beside them. He threads his fingers through Jack’s hair and tugs, just the way he knows the other man likes, and trails his other hand down Frankie’s sweat-slicked back to tease between his cheeks.

You’re doing so well, my loves, he rumbles quietly to each of them.

Some things simply are, and they are his.

———

It was Jack who had first approached her, timing his trip up to the bar for another round at the same time as hers.

She’d caught the attention of all three of them, an unprecedented feat. Something in the way she’d laughed at something one of her friends had said, perhaps, or maybe they were all just tipsy enough to find the fluid grace with which she maneuvered herself into and out of the booth she was sitting in unusually compelling. Whatever the explanation, they could not look away.

Go on, cowboy, Frankie had nudged Jack. Shoot your shot.

Jack had sauntered up to the bar, an odd fluttering of nerves taking up residence in his rib cage.

A greeting, a grin, a wink.

You know what they say about fighter pilots, darlin’?

A smile.

They play a lot of beach volleyball?

———

And now he has her, now he has them, this thing he never thought he’d get to have again.

Jack, more than Frankie or Pero, craves softness. His head resting in one of their laps as they rest on the couch. Cradling their girl in his lap while she reads. A comforting touch. A soothing word. The others reaching straight through the facade of bluster and bravado to his heart and saying easy now.

They stand, the four of them, as sentinels, watching over one another.

What do you need, three will ask one.

You, they always reply. You, you, you.

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #jack daniels fanfic #pero tovar fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you

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0nlythrowharrybeaux · 11 months

Text

Young American - Part 20**

GUYS I LOVE THIS PART! I'm really happy with it and I hope you guys like it too!

SERIES MASTERLIST

WARNINGS: Detailed description of medical procedure, mentions of blood, birthing, slight pain kink, breeding kink, breeding, daddy/babygirl dynamic, p in v, unprotected sex

WC: 9K

… JUNE …

When Harry and Y/N announced to their co-workers that they were engaged everyone was absolutely overjoyed for them. Yes, things had moved quite fast, but when you’re with the right person getting to the point that you both want is far greater than the worries and fears. They hadn’t shared with anyone their intent to move to England yet, but they were hoping to have relocated by January of the next year. Auree had organized a little engagement party for them, it was more like a dinner actually, but it had been so nice so far. Celebrating with friends was always nice.

“So when are you guys getting married?” Rosa asked with an eager smile.

“Ummm, maybe next year in the spring?” Y/N looked to Harry who nodded in confirmation.

“Oh! You’re moving it along quickly.” Rosa said and they both nodded.

“Yeah…” Harry said with a smile, “We haven’t put a date on it just yet, it really depends on how quickly we finish settling down in London, but we’re aiming for March or April of next year.” he said and then his eyes widened when he saw Rosa’s smile falter a bit at the information he had just shared unintentionally.

“You guys are leaving?” She asked and that had caused everyone else’s conversations to halt as their attention turned to Harry and Y/N.

“Ummm…yeah, that’s the plan.” Y/N responded before biting down on her bottom lip nervously.

“Why? What’s the rush?” G asked with a small frown and Harry glanced to her and she smiled softly at him before he responded.

“Well, given the situation with Y/N’s family, we ummm, we want to have as much family support as possible for when we start trying for a baby. We’re kind of eager to get started.” He explained and everyone’s expressions of concern melted into pouts of endearment.

“Oh my god!” Vy finally said and Y/N shrugged with a happy smile.

“Well we’re gonna miss you, but we’re extremely happy for you guys.” G said and Auree and Rosa nodded along in agreement.

“Well, to Harry and Y/N!” Rosa said and everyone raised their glasses to them in a toast.

… SEPTEMBER ….

“Are you sure about this?” Harry whispered to Y/N as they sat in the waiting area and she nodded with an encouraging smile.

“I’m so sure.” She responded with a smile and he nodded.They were about to meet up with Dr. Ramirez to do an ultrasound of Y/N’s reproductive system, just to check in on everything to see how everything was. “Also, it makes me nervous to do this stuff alone so I’m glad you could come.”

“Well of course I’d come!” He replied and she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

They both felt like time was moving too quickly. After really solidifying their plans they talked to Eddie about the plan to move to England and he was really understanding and assured them both that he’d try and find a way to make something work. Both Harry and Y/N were completely booked out at the LA shop until the holidays though - they were finishing up as many clients as they could and well, they were busy all the damn time. In their free time they were preparing for their move to England, things were getting sent over a bit at a time and were being kept at Anne and Hillary’s. Since this would be their last Christmas in California they decided that they needed to spend the holidays here. Anne and Hillary were actually joining them in a few weeks for Thanksgiving and through the New Year and they would help take some things back to England when they headed off.

Harry and Y/N had also talked to Julie about their plans and what started out as a joke about Julie moving across the world with them soon became a very serious thing and she had gotten in touch with immigration late in the spring. Apart from her friends and her house, Julie didn’t have much left in LA. Her only family around was Y/N and with her gone she’d feel so alone, so she did some thinking and decided that she too would make the move out to England.

“Y/N Y/L/N!” The nurse called out from the clinic entrance and she stood up beside Harry before they made their way in. It was a bit nerve-racking when they had her lay down and they put the gel and all that shit on her. Dr. Ramirez was talking to her and Harry and she was responding to her questions, but she had no idea what she was even saying. She was so in her head about all of this, she hoped that everything was good…it had to be.

“Alright, let’s see….that’s your uterus, looking good. I don’t see any abnormalities or causes for concern.” She shared as she pointed to the splotch on the screen. Both Harry and Y/N wondered how doctors could even tell what the hell was being projected from the ultrasound, it looked like nothing but grainy footage to their untrained eyes. “OK, here’s your right ovary.” She said and well Y/N could faintly see the structure of it as the imaging on the screen zoomed in, “These black spots are the follicles.” She said pointing to one of them and both Y/N and Harry nodded in awe, “So here you’ve got…” she paused as she counted them quietly, “I see 10 here, which is really good and normal for your age. They look to be a good size also which means the egg there is maturing well and that increases your chances of conception by just a bit more.” She explained and both Harry and Y/N nodded. “Now let’s take a look at the left side…” Dr. Ramirez said as she moved the camera over to the other side, “OK, left ovary I see…9, all of them look good as well.” She said to them with a smile. “I’d say you’ve got excellent chances of getting pregnant quickly once your implant is out.” Dr. Ramirez shared with her and Harry. Y/N felt Harry squeeze her hand at this news and she smiled up at him.

“That’s great news.” Y/N responded cheerfully.

“And if she wants the implant out, how long is that procedure?” Harry asked.

“It’s a very quick out-patient procedure. Shouldn’t take more then 10 minutes total to position it and get it out.” She shared and Harry nodded.

“So baby, what do you wanna do?” He asked her and she smiled at him.

“I think we can make an appointment to get it out.” She said to him and his smiled widened even more.

“You sure?” He asked again and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve never been more sure about anything.” She smiled at him and then her doctor. It was nice that he kept checking in to ensure that he wasn’t pushing her for more than she was ready for because Harry was eager to just get started. And while he knew Y/N wanted all of this with him too he wasn’t sure just how eager she was for this as well. “I mean, I think I should at least get on the pill while we settle in and stuff,” she said to Harry and he nodded.

“Yeah, don’t want any surprises.” He assured her with a chuckle.

“Perfect.” Dr. Ramirez said, “Well, I can fit you in for that in about two weeks?” She asked Y/N and she nodded.

“Yeah, that’s perfect.” She agreed and Dr. Ramirez’s nurse wrote that down, “Preferably on a Monday though, its the slowest tattooing day.” She explained and she and her nurse chuckled in agreement.

“It’s gonna be sad that you’re going but I’m really happy for you two, you seem like a wonderful couple.” Dr. Ramirez assured.

“Thank you, doctor.” Y/N smiled. Soon enough she was bidding them farewell and Y/N was left to get fully dressed again. Harry felt even more excited than he did before, they were both excited about starting a family together. And of course they could do all of this once they were in England but it was important to Harry that Y/N take care of this with a medical team she knew well and trusted and Dr. Ramirez was the doctor she’d been seeing since she had moved in with Julie.

Two weeks later they had returned during their lunch hour to get the implant out of Y/N’s arm. She knew it was a pretty easy procedure, but she was a bit nervous about it because they’d still be cutting into her arm and she tended to be a bit squeamish about all that.

“Baby, it’ll be fine.” Harry comforted her from his spot beside her.

“I know, I know…I just can’t see the blood.” She explained through a nervous exhale and he looked at her with confusion.

“But…you’re a girl.”

“So?”

“Don’t you deal with blood regularly?” He asked you through a chuckle.

“Yeah, but that’s different. Like the consistency is even different! This is like…really thick and like…coming out of an open wound. Even when we tattoo it’s not like this.” She explained as she swallowed thickly. Just thinking about it made her start to feel clammy and for her stomach to turn unpleasantly. She’d learned to toughen up a bit with helping Julie out, but that was mostly throw up or phlegm, not blood.

“Right. Well just, squeeze my hand if you start to get dizzy.” He smiled and she nodded. When Y/N got this put in she’d asked Dr. Ramirez if she could wear her headphones and close her eyes, she had been kind enough to allow it. She felt better about it with Harry here and he apparently had no issues with the blood and gore, which was great because she knew that when they’d have a baby they’d probably have to see it all and having a partner who could deal with the things she didn’t have the stomach for was always a win.

“Hello you two!” Dr. Ramirez greeted them as she came into the room.

“Hi doctor.”, “Hello, Doctor!” Y/N and Harry chimed in together.

“I know you struggle with this bit so I’ll be as fast as I can.” She assured Y/N who nodded. The nurse had been in earlier to set up the tools she needed to get this done. Dr. Ramirez washed her hands well before she got some gloves on. Y/N was breathing deep and looking into Harry’s eyes to help keep her nerves at bay.

“It’s alright, baby. Just keep looking right at me.” Harry assured her with an encouraging smile and Y/N nodded.

“Alright, let’s get the little bugger up front.” Dr. Ramirez said and then felt around for the implant in her left arm. Once she located it, it took a few attempts to get it up to an easily accessible part of her arm. “Perfect, gonna sanitize the area next.” Dr. Ramirez shared and Y/N already looked away and squeezed her eyes closed preemptively. Harry had an excellent view of the area that the doctor was cleaning off. Once she had put the swab with the disinfectant mixture down, she turned her attention to the needle inside of the sterile baggy. She carefully opened it up before dipping it into the anesthetic, “And just a little prick coming up.” She warned and Y/N exhaled as the needle sunk in and the anesthetic was delivered, “You made it.” She encouraged, “It’ll be just a few moments for it to kick in.” She informed and Y/N nodded. There was a knock at the door, “Come in!” Dr. Ramirez said and the nurse walked in with a smile. “Just in time!” She said and the woman proceeded to wash her hands before also getting some gloves on. “How’s that?” Dr. Ramirez asked as she poked hard at the spot she had numbed on Y/N’s arm.

“How’s what?” She asked without looking away from Harry and he chuckled as he looked to the doctor.

“Perfect.” She chuckled, “Alright, scalpel please.” She requested and the nurse opened up the sterile packaging and handed it over, “Thank you.”. Harry watched with wide eyes as Dr. Ramirez sunk the blade into Y/N’s arm quite hard and deep, it surprised him actually. And then she pulled away once the incision was made and instantly her blood started coming up to the surface and his mouth went dry. It was so dark and thick and well, Y/N was right it was a lot. At least a lot more than he expected there to be. Then, Dr. Ramirez pressed down against the incision and he saw the little bit of the implant protrude from it and that’s when he started to see spots as his body suddenly ran cold. He let go of Y/N’s hand as he started backing up to the wall behind him and Y/N was looking at him with concern. He could see her mouth moving as his back collided with the wall and he slowly sank down it as his legs started to weaken and he blinked slowly a few times before everything went black.

“Oh my god! Doctor!” Y/N gasped and turned towards Dr. Ramirez who was just as shocked but then Y/N saw the blood seeping through the gauze that Dr. Ramirez had now pressed to her open wound and she started to see spots and her ears rang for a few seconds before everything went black for her as well.

When Y/N regained consciousness she blinked a couple of times at the bright lights in above her. She then recalled what had happened and looked around the room for Harry. She relaxed when she saw him still passed out on a cot off to the side. Y/N shook her head as she smiled to herself in complete disbelief. She started to sit up and just then the nurse was coming into the room.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She said and Y/N nodded.

“Yeah, sorry about this. What a mess…” she chuckled and shook her head in embarrassment and the woman smiled.

“It’s alright, it happens!” She assured, “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah, just fine.” She assured.

“Alright, let’s help you down and I’ll bring some cool water for you and your boyfriend.” She said and Y/N thanked her as the woman helped her down to the floor.

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll be back in a second.” She assured and then hurried out. Y/N headed over to the cot where Harry was breathing slowly and she pushed his leg a bit to sit beside him.

“Baby.” She called to him as she ran her fingers through the front of his hair. He huffed and moaned softly, as he often did when he was about to wake up, “Haaarryyyy…” she sang as she patted his cheek now and he pouted as his eyebrows creased together.

“Not yet.” He muttered under his breath and she giggled.

“Baby, we’re at the doctor’s office still. You can’t stay here.” She sniggered and after she bugged him a bit more he slowly blinked his eyes open.

“Wait? Where are we?” He asked softly and with some confusion as he looked up at Y/N. The bright lights behind her were making him squint.

“The doctor’s! You passed out from seeing the procedure.” She explained with an amused grin and he frowned.

“Tha’s only ‘cause I skipped breakfast.” He mumbled.

“We came straight here after we ate lunch.” She reminded him with a smirk.

“Oh, come off it…” he said as he started to sit up and she helped him.

“I’m not laughing at you, I passed out too because I saw all the blood-”

“Just don’t…I don’t want to think about what I saw…” he said and she chuckled.

“Told you it was pretty gross.” She said and he shook his head.

“That’s an understatement. Lucky for us we don’t have to do this for a living.” He said and she giggled and the sighed.

“Baby, now I’m concerned though.” She said and he looked perplexed.

“About what?”

“About what’s gonna happen to you when I’m having our baby! I mean…there’s bound to be even more blood and lots of pain…and probably other…stuff.” She cringed at the thought, “Like…it’ll be a mess if we both can’t hang!” She said and he shook his head.

“No, no that’ll be different. Vastly different.” He assured her, “Like I’d probably be up there with you encouraging you. I’m not jumping at the opportunity to like seethe mechanics of it either, specially if you don’t want me to.” He assured her.

“Well even from up there you’ll see our bloody and soggy ass baby when it…comes out and-”

“And I will be fine!” He cut her off and she chuckled. “You were right though, there was a lot more blood than I expected for this procedure, but it was the little implant sticking out that…ugh, can’t even think about it or I will puke.” He said with an icky look on his face as he shook his head in disapproval.

“I’m giving you a hard time, baby. Thank you for coming with me for this though, feel bad now though.” She said with a soft and grateful smile and he just grabbed her hand and kissed the back of it. The door to the room swung open and in came the nurse with the water she had promised Y/N.

“Sleeping beauty is back with us!” She teased with a chuckle and Y/N saw how Harry flushed a bit in embarrassment. She didn’t want him to feel bad about this any more than he already did and it was one thing for her to tease him and another thing for it to be a stranger.

“I should’ve just listened to him and we should’ve had lunch before we came here…” Y/N said and the nurse shook her head as she handed the water bottles to them.

“Rookie move, hon.” She said to Y/N.

“I know, but I just figured if I did puke for any reason it would be less messy if I didn’t eat…and Harry even missed breakfast so he had legitimate reasons to pass out, unlike me.” She sniggered and she saw Harry smile at her as she covered for him so that the nurse wouldn’t tease him anymore.

“You’re an angel for not rubbing the fact that you were right in her face.” The nurse said to Harry and he smiled as he continued running his thumb over her knuckles.

“You know, we don’t really like to do that to each other.” He said as he continued smiling right at Y/N.

“That’s definitely the right man to have babies with.” The woman said to Y/N and they all chuckled softly as she agreed with her that he was the very best. After receiving confirmation of her birth control pills being sent to her pharmacy, Dr. Ramirez did a quick check up to ensure that their vitals were normal so that they were able to head out safely. Their car ride was quiet for a bit before he turned to her at the stop light.

“Baby, thank you for…stepping in when the nurse was gonna tease me about passing out.” He said and she smiled.

“Of course, H. Only I get to joke around with you like that. Well, even anyone close to you really, not a stranger. And truly, I’m sure they were at least prepared for me to pass out, I have before when I’ve had to get a shot or blood work done.” She confessed and he pouted, “Yeah… How the hell am I supposed to watch them do that to our baby?” She questioned.

“I can do doctor duty, love. Don’t worry.” He assured.

“OK, prefect.” Y/N agreed happily.

She liked when they talked this way with each other, so certain of what their future had in store for them. And it was nice to know that these were things they’d both wanted so badly as individuals, but coming together, knowing that your partner wanted the same things as you and valued family the same…it just made them both feel even more connected to each other. Later that evening they recounted their experience to Julie who could not stop cracking up

“Ah…” she exclaimed as her laughing fit died down, “I love you kids, my life would be so dull without the two of you around.” Julie confessed with crinkly eyes and a big smile, “I’m glad you’re alright though.”

“Yeah, me too! At least Harry didn’t concuss himself. You like, passed out in slow motion!” Y/N explained as she laughed and Harry laughed along with her as he shook his head in slight embarrassment.

“So…does this mean that you’re thinking of having a baby soon?” Julie asked with a grin and Harry smiled.

“Ummm, yeah. Ideally this’ll happen once we’ve moved though.”

“I got the pill for now. I just wanted to have the procedure done with a doctor I knew and was comfortable with.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Julie nodded, “Well for what it’s worth, I think the two of you will be absolutely incredible parents.” She said and Harry and Y/N smiled at each other happily.

… OCTOBER …

It was the middle of the night when Y/N felt Harry pull her in towards his body. The action wasn’t all that subtle so it did stir her awake. They had only been in asleep for about 3 hours according to the clock on her bedside table. They’d gone to Oogie Boogie Bash at Disneyland with everyone from the shop and their significant others and had quite a long day. But still Harry was awake for some reason and he huffed like he did when he was upset and she frowned a bit.

“You OK?” Y/N asked softly and he hummed before kissing the side of her head before he shuffled a bit closer to her.

“Mhmm. I was just having a dream that the baby was in the bed with us and I couldn’t hold you like this anymore.” He mumbled lowly, she didn’t have to see his face to know he was pouting a bit as he told her this.

“Oh baby, you don’t have to worry about that. Co-sleeping is not an option.” She said quietly, “Like I don’t mean we can’t ever have a cuddle or anything like that with the baby in bed, but they should sleep in their own space.” Y/N assured and he smiled.

“Good.” He hummed, “Doesn’t seem safe anyway.”

“I mean, it can be done safely. But I just don’t think the benefits outweigh the problems it can bring and I’m not even including the potential hazards.” She said, now even more awake as she considered this and what she knew of the topic. It was a rather big topic for 4am so now her brain was starting to spark up.

“Are you awake awake now?” He asked and she chuckled.

“Definitely.” She confirmed and he sighed.

“Sorry, m’love.” He apologized before kissing her shoulder.

“S’alright. They’re good things to think about.” She assured him and he mumbled his agreement, “I like how we talk about this like the baby was already real or like already here.” She whispered and he smiled.

“Manifestation 101.” Harry whispered back and she smiled, “I think the more real we make them in our mind the more prepared we’ll be for them. They’ll feel that from the very start they were just wanted and loved so much, you know?” He asked her.

“Yeah.” She responded with a smile.

“I do have one condition about us having a baby though.” He said and Y/N decided to just turn around to face him despite the darkness.

“What’s the condition?”

“Well given the holiday coming up in a few weeks I realized that I want to choose the Halloween outfits for our baby until they can form their own opinions.” He said and Y/N chuckled.

“No way. No!”

“What? Why not?”

“Because! What if I have a great idea for one?”

“Well you can suggest it and I can decide if it’s good enough or not. I won’t be closed to suggestions, I just want to be the one to decide.” He explained.

“Well knowing you, you’ll have the baby dressed as like a meatball or something else equally stupid!”

“Oh my god, it’s not stupid! We have to take advantage while the baby is chubby! And it doesn’t have to be a meatball, though that was one of the options…what about a sprout? Like a Brussel spout?” He defended his idea and she cackled because she had guessed right on what kind of things he’d put the baby in if he had his way.

“Noooo! They’ll look like a lump of shit or a booger, Harry! What if we have a little girl and she looks back at her halloween costumes and she see’s herself as a meatball? Like no…she’d never forgive you and I wouldn’t either.” She expressed her concern and he sighed.

“OK, not a meatball or a sprout then…something else. What about a tennis ball?”

“What is this obsession you have with round things? Nothing round!” Y/N sighed in exasperation and he sighed.

“Baby, tennis balls are small-round, so cute! And they’re fuzzy and a cool color.” He pleaded his case and Y/N shook her head in disapproval.

“Just…go to sleep, Harry.” Y/N mumbled through a giggle.

“Baby…” he whined lowly as his big, warm hand rubbed up her hip and then down to her thigh, slow and tender.

“You can’t be serious, H.”

“I am so serious that it’s not even funny.” He spoke with such zeal into the darkness and Y/N sighed.

“One round costume. Just one.”

“Two?” He bargained and Y/N sighed.

“Fine…but they can’t be ugly colors or food. Make it like a sun or like a little chick hatching, just something cute. Definitely not a meatball, please.” She requested. In moments she felt Harry’s lips press against her own gently.

“Fine, not a meatball.” He responded against her lips and she smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He said back softly.

Harry was fun. He could be really serious and intimidating but once you got to know him he was a total softy. He was silly, quirky, annoying (in an amusing way) and most of all, extremely lovable. So even when he said ridiculous things like wanting to dress up their future baby in a meatball costume Y/N couldn’t get upset at him. In a way, these things about him made her love him just a little bit more and she wouldn’t waste a single opportunity to let him know. So now she was the one surging forward and connecting their lips together in a kiss, though it caught him by surprise when he slightly parted his lips to say something she gently rolled her tongue inside and swiped it along his own. He pulled back from her, surely grinning from ear to ear.

“Whoa…where did that come from?” he asked her quietly with a big grin.

“I just love you and your nonsense a lot.” She responded softly.

“Oh.” He hummed happily, “So-”

“No, that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my stance on the meatball or brussel sprout costumes ideas.” She said and he chuckled.

“You know me way too well. S’like you live in my brain and read my thoughts.” He said quietly and Y/N smiled.

“I mean, I would hope I live in your brain!” She giggled, “You live in mine. Rent free, might I add.” She said softly and he shuffled a bit and then kissed her forehead.

“Harry’s house.” He mumbled before he settled back into his spot beside her.

“Yeah.” She smiled.

“You know I find myself wishing we’d met before, but when I just see how we are I’m glad we didn’t cross paths until now. Like we found each other at the perfect time, you know? And as much as I would’ve loved to have you in my life from the very beginning, I think the reason we work so well now is because of the people we are now, you know?”

“Yeah. I think so too. But hey, we’ve got the rest of our lives left to learn more about each other and to love each other…to build a life together that we’re both happy with and proud of.” She whispered, “Well, actually I think we’ve already started that bit.”

“Yeah, we definitely have.” He said huskily before he scooted over and kissed her again. Her hand reached up and held his well-defined, masculine jaw with the utmost tenderness as their kiss deepened. She felt relief as his body weight pressed down over her, he was like the best weighted blanket, everything about him oozed comfort to her. His scent, his warmth, the softness of his skin…she ground up to his hips and he smiled into their kiss. “I’ll get to that, baby. Be patient for me.” He spoke lowly and it made a chill roll down her spine.

“Yes, daddy.” She responded without even giving it any thought and Harry groaned and completely gave in to his carnal needs. His cock immediately started to harden up as the blood in his body rushed to his groin.

“Fuck, spread your legs f’me.” He spoke against her lips and she parted her legs wider so that he could grind against her center better.

The friction against their most sensitive parts was making them both even more aroused. It was just a few moments before she was raising her hips to get her bottoms down and Harry was doing the same, clumsily trying to get his briefs off. Finally he was hovering between her legs again, his thick and sensitive tip was rubbing and prodding at the crease of her entrance. He was slicking his cock up and she anticipated his next move and shivered as he guided it up to her clit. He rubbed himself against it, exhaling shakily at the feeling it was giving him, but knowing that it felt good for her also got him off. Y/N moaned quietly as her clit started to tingle harder and to throb as the delicious feelings grew with each swipe and rub of his cock on her clit. Harry bit his lip to hold back his groan at the sounds of her labored breathing and very soft squeaks of pleasure. He was aching to be sheathed in her tight, cushy, and saturated pussy.

“Daddy, please get inside.” Y/N supplicated softly. Her tone of voice was light and feathery, it made her skin rise with goosebumps. It made him shiver as he ran his cock back down her drippy slit and he sighed in relief as he pressed at her little hole, with his increasingly added pressure his cock started to sink deeper and deeper into her canal.

“Fuck, babygirl…” he exhaled. He had fucked plenty of people, but no one felt like her. She was so hot and squishy inside. Not to mention just how wet she was, it made it so easy for him to sink every inch of his cock into her tiny cunt. Every bump and ridge of hers stimulated the perfect spots on his cock. And he loved that his length reached right at her cervix right now. He knew she was due for her period soon because it was usually low like this when she was getting close to it. He put more weight over her and she hissed as his cock poked against the smooth and firm structure. “Oh fuuuuck…fuck.” He drawled out a deep moan as his sensitive head glided and prodded at her cervix.

Y/N was tense beneath him, the feeling was a bit uncomfortable but there were enough peaks of pleasure that she didn’t stop him, it was obviously feeling really good for him. He’d never stayed this deep for that long, but it seemed that he was entranced at the moment and was only making her wetter hearing his sexy sounds. She slipped her hand between their bodies and started to rub her clit in swift circles, her actions nearly effortless from how drenched she was on Harry’s cock.

“Good girl, play with your pussy for me.” He encouraged her and hummed in approval, “Gonna kneel t’get deeper.” He said and she bit her lip and let him reposition her just a bit before he was sinking back into her with far less resistance than at the start. She held her breath as he then pushed a bit harder. But he somehow thrust up and she gasped in shock as he impaled right into her g-spot. He gave a few testing thrusts and her eyes rolled back and she moaned loudly, the sound muffled up as he placed his hand over her mouth. He’d reached there with his fingers but his cock was bigger and it felt better.

Her abs were already tensing as he ground into her for a few seconds and then he went back to thrusting. The rapid changes in his technique were not letting her orgasm build as fast as she wanted. The pleasure was dragging on and on, he was so great at edging her. She could feel her body start to wind up and right before she could get into that sweet spot he’d transition to the next pattern. This went on for a bit of time, she could tell that he was also struggling with this, but he wasn’t going to let up just yet. There was always a part of him that loved torturing himself like this and if she was a willing participant even better. But she was getting to the edge of it all, she was having to tense her curl her toes to attempt to hang on just a bit more.

“Mmmm daddy, I need t’come! Please, I need t’come!” Y/N whimpered into his palm.

“Just hang on a little longer, my love. Be good and wait for daddy.” He grunted with each thrust and she exhaled shakily and squeezed her eyes shut, “Can you be good for me and stay quiet?” She nodded and he removed his hand from over her mouth. “Rub your clit f’me.” He instructed, “Rub it f’me like you do when you’re alone and thinking about me.” He said lowly and she pressed her lips together and moaned softly, “Fuck, now that we got that thing out of your arm we can try for a baby.” He panted, “M’gonna have to be this deep so that it’ll catch, babygirl.”

“Fuck, please daddy! Make it catch!” She whispered breathily and Harry moaned lowly as his abs tensed as he started nearing his orgasm.

“I will, babygirl. Fuck, m’so fucking full and swollen for you.” He panted, “Gonna drain my balls in your tasty, little pussy. Gonna put a baby in you, babygirl.” He grunted as his thrusts started to slow in speed but increase in force. She gasped at the feeling, she was getting so close to coming, her legs were starting to shake around his hips.

“Yes, daddy, yes! Let’smakeababy.” She slurred as her walls started to tighten up around Harry.

“Fuck yeah…gonna make you give me so many babies.” He whispered as he started to rut against her, “You’re so good letting me use your body like this. Letting me use you to make my babies. Shit…so fucking breedable…” he moaned. The repeated prodding at her g-spot combined with her fingers zooming around her clit had started to make her wither. Her breath was hitching and her moans slipped past her lips involuntarily, “Shhh, shhhh…” Harry urged her as he tried to stay on rhythm. She started to submit to it all, to feelings of excitement and pleasure and love for Harry, it was just too much.

“Oh fuck, keep going just like that, daddy! That’s such a good spot, it feels so good right there!” She keened. Harry focused on making sure to keep going until she was pulsing around him and he fervidly continued thrusting his hips towards her, “I’m gonna come! I’m-I’m…” her voice cracked as her back arched. Harry exhaled hard through his nose as Y/N came undone. It felt so fucking good she swore her brain melted as the pleasure crawled through her veins, the butterflies in her stomach mimicked the feeling one got from dropping from a tall rollercoaster. Her eyes rolled back and she started to trembled as he kept going, overstimulating her in the process of him chasing his own orgasm. Harry’s balls were starting to throb as they pumped his sperm up the thick shaft of his cock, loading it up so that he could drown her pussy with his sperm and get her pregnant. Fuck, he wanted to get her pregnant so badly, he was desperate to give her a baby soon. His rhythm faltered as he reached his limit.

“Fuck babygirl, ready f’me?” He asked lowly, “I’m coming…fuck, I’m coming!” He moaned softly as he started to shoot thick, milky white streams of his sperm into her generously. With each thrust he’d spill in just a bit more of his cum. The wet, squelching sounds of him driving his cum deep into her pussy were making him dizzy along with her soft whimpers and praises for giving her so much of his seed. It made his orgasm feeling like it went on for ages as he just shivered and vibrated from the pleasure.

“Shit.” Harry panted tiredly as he finally stopped moving. He leaned down and kissed her passionately for a few moments before he pulled out of her and Y/N’s walls tightened around nothing at the loss of his warmth. “Gonna get something to clean you up.” He said and she just hummed. He quickly put on his briefs and quietly rushed into her bathroom across the hall from her bedroom. The floorboards just faintly creaked beneath his weight when he entered her room again. She was spent and she felt so spacey, seemingly having gone under just a bit. She frowned and draped her arm over her face when her bedside lamp came on.

“Sorry, my love. Could’t see.” He said quietly and then gently dabbed the toilet paper at her entrance to soak up any excess cum. His mouth watered a bit when he saw the big creampie he’d given her, she was loaded up completely. He knew she was on the pill, but he just wanted to treat this like a time when he was actually trying to get her pregnant. It had all been so hot and primal and real…he couldn’t end the fantasy now. So he just reached for her shorts and helped get them on. “Alright, be right back!” He said and rushed back to the bathroom to go pee and toss the soiled toilet paper. When he returned he smiled when he saw her curled up and peering up to the door waiting for him.

“Hurry, I think m’under a bit.” She whispered and he quickly shut the door and hopped into bed. He reached back to get the light off as she melted against his body. “You played so well, my love. Felt like we were doing it for real.” He muttered against her ear.

“Yeah, it did.” She whispered and smiled when he kissed her head. “Was so good.”

“Yeah, it was…but it’s always so fucking good with you. You’re so fucking good f’me, my love. So fucking pretty and pliant.” He praised her as he rubbed her tummy with his hand, “Thank you for being so good f’me.”

“Course, daddy. Love you.” She whispered happily.

“I love you too, baby.” Harry whispered. And after expelling all that energy and living in a beautiful fantasy they soon fell back asleep.

… NOVEMBER …

Y/N and Julie were busy making a nice little dinner for Anne and Hillary’s arrival. Harry had called about half an hour prior to inform them that his mom and grandma’s flight had to do an emergency landing in New York for fuel so their arrival was delayed for about an hour, give or take. She and Julie were not bothered by this information because This delay also gave them time to do some extra tidying up around the house. Y/N had just finished tidying up the entrance of the house when Julie opened up the front door.

“Phone’s ringing!” She informed handing it over to her.

“Oh no, that’s my alarm for my birth control.” Y/N said when she recognized the tune she had set for that, “Be right back!” She said grabbing her phone from Julie and proceeded to rush over to her bedroom to get her pills from her purse.

She dug around for the little sleeve they were encased in and finally found them and pulled them out. She absentmindedly popped it out and tossed the little pill in her mouth before reaching for the water bottle on her nightstand and drinking some down to help it pass faster. When she attempted to slip the little packet of pills back into the sleeve she was struggling and realized that it was catching and just turned it face up and then she just stared at it for a few moments when she realized that she was on the second pill of three pills that were supposedly supposed to be the “period pills” - meaning she was supposed to be on her period now. She set them down and tried to do some mental math about when she’d gotten her last period. As she pondered this a memory resurfaced.

She was supposed to start her period the day before Halloween…had it already been a month? She set the little packet of pills down and furrowed her eyebrows as she just tried her best to make sure that it hadn’t come late…but she remembers that she was quite stressed that week because it was her mom’s birthday and she had also been spamming her with pics of her nieces and nephew’s “spirit week” outfits during those days. Her dad had texted her a scolding for her not calling her mom on her birthday… her period was very flaky under stress, it always had been so she didn’t think much of it at the time and clearly she’d forgotten all about it. There was no way she was pregnant… but then when she thought further back she recalled that she’d been really inconsistent with the birth control pills the first couple weeks because she kept forgetting to take them…that’s when she decided she’d set an alarm for them… and then her eyes widened even more when she recalled that it was during those weeks that she and Harry had literally had the hottest sex of their relationship in this very room, just a few steps away on her bed. She was still processing when she walked over to the kitchen to find Julie. When she walked in she stood there for a few seconds silently as she pieced together how she would even break this news to her aunt.

“What? You’re creeping me out!” Julie chuckled as she spared Y/N a glance. She swallowed thickly her tongue felt so heavy, almost as if it were unwilling to help her form the words. “You’re scaring me.” Julie said with a slight frown now as she set down the knife in her hands.

“Ummm…I…I think we need to get a pregnancy test.” She finally got out softly and with so much anxiety laced in her voice. Julie’s frown slowly turned up into a smile as she brought her hands up to hold her face.

“Are you serious right now?” She asked and Y/N nodded.

“So fucking serious.” She managed to breathe out and Julie nodded and rushed over to the burner to shut it off and move the food to the cool one behind it.

“OK! OK! Let me get my bag and my keys and we’ll go.” She said and rushed out of the kitchen only to peek back in seconds later, “I need you to chug like 2 water bottles.” She said and then hurried away again.

After 20 minutes they were back at the house with a few pregnancy tests. Y/N knew she didn’t need that many but she wanted to at least take 2 just to be sure and well, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few on hand in case this was just a little glitch in her system. She did need to pee and Julie provided her with a disposable cup to pee in to get an actual clean sample on both tests. Eventually another 15 minutes had passed and Y/N was still distracting herself in the kitchen. Julie’s exasperated sigh called her attention.

“We need to check.”

“I’m scared.” Y/N confessed.

“Of what?” Her aunt asked with compassion.

“What if I end up exactly like my parents and I? Like what if I’m not ready? Or what if Harry’s not ready yet? Like…what if he doesn’t take it well? Or his mom and grandma! Oh my god… oh my god!!!!” She started to spiral.

“Relax, they’re not like our family, remember?” Julie reminded her with gentle hands on her shoulders. “And if you are, Harry will be thrilled. You know it!” Julie assured her with a smile and Y/N exhaled slowly.

“Yeah. He wants this with me.”

“He really does. Wants to marry you and everything.” Julie threw in a wink and Y/N smiled at her aunt, “And the more I see you two together, planning your lives, the more I’m confident that you two were destined to do this and just… do life together.” She said with so much love for her in her eyes. Y/N just hugged around her tightly and Julie smiled and groaned as she squeezed Y/N back just a little tighter. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.” Y/N whispered with welled up eyes. Moments later Julie was following Y/N to the bathroom.

“Well?” Julie asked as Y/N hesitated to step in far enough to get a glimpse, “Am I a grandma or not?” Julie asked impatiently and Y/N groaned as she just reached for the tests and looked over them.

“Ahhhhhh!!!!!” She literally shrieked at the top of her lungs as she jumped up and down excitedly with the biggest smile as tears rolled down her face.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!” Julie shouted as Y/N hurried over and hugged her tight. She kissed her head a few times before they both started screaming excitedly again through their tears.

There wasn’t a speck of doubt in Y/N’s body as soon as she saw the 2 positive tests. Julie was right, she and Harry were destined to be in each other’s lives. Theirs was such a special type of love, everyone could see it. She had the best person on the planet to start a family with. He would make the very best dad, she could already envision it. And envision his reaction when she’d tell him. He’d probably be happier than her, if that were even possible. Being swallowed up in their bubble of ecstasy, Y/N and Julie didn’t hear the front door open.

*******

Harry came in already laughing since he heard Y/N & Julie screaming through the front door. His mum and gran were chuckling along with him as he made some joke about how excited they were to see them. But when he got the door open he saw Julie and Y/N down the hall, outside of the bathroom. They were screaming and jumping up and down in a circle. He laughed along as they seemed to not even realize they had arrived. His mum and gran were giggling at the commotion.

“What on earth is going on here?” Harry asked with a big, dimpled smile on his face. It was a bit scary how perfectly in sync Y/N and Julie had shut up and turned in his direction. They then looked at each other and Julie just nodded reassuringly with an easy smile, it made Harry’s heart start to race. And Y/N reached into the bathroom before she turned back and held out what looked to be a pregnancy test to him. He walked over to her and looked down at it and his heart immediately started racing and his body started to buzz from the inside out. His vision started to blur as his lips started to turn up as the two pink lines before him were burned into his memory. He looked up into her joyfully glossy eyes and then looked down at the breathtakingly meek smile on her lips then back to her eyes. It made him fall in love with her all over again. He was smiling so wide now, her smile matching his. Her tears inevitably catalyzing his own crying. He inhaled sharply and just stepped forward and wrapped her up in his arms as his body shook with some sort of sobbing-laughing thing that somehow felt like the only acceptable reaction to this news.

“Oh, my love….” He whispered as he swayed them from side to side a few times as she cried in his arms. His eyes glanced to Julie only to see her hiding her smile with her hands. She was crying too, but she stepped forward and grabbed the test from his hand and hurried over to his mum and grandmother. Julie presumably showed it to them because he faintly heard his own family shrieking excitedly and shouting praises and congratulations. He squeezed her just a bit harder and relished in the feeling of her in his arms; he’d never felt more close to her than he did in that very moment.

“We’re gonna have a baby.” She said through her tears and he nodded and dipped down to finally kiss her lips. It was tender but heavy with passion. He grabbed her face gently and pecked her lips over and over again. His kisses moved down her jaw, neck, chest, and finally to her stomach. He kissed her three times before pressing himself back up from his kneeling position and pulling her into his arms again.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, “Thank you so much, my love.” He whispered again.

And just for a few moments they felt like they were alone in the universe and having this moment together. Julie, his mum, and gran all blubbering just a few feet behind him were the thing that made him touch back down to reality. He looked down to his lover, his life partner, and best friend with a look of gratitude before he pulled apart and allowed his mum and gran to come hug Y/N. Julie came over and squeezed Harry in a warm hug.

“Congrats, H.” She said softly, “You guy’ll be amazing.”

“Thank you.” He said softly as he pulled back to smile at her before they turned to see his mum releasing Y/N to allow his gran to hug her as well. She offered some assurances and congratulations as she held her close for a few moments before she let her go and Y/N turned back to him and he suddenly had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “AND SCENE!” He shouted as seriously as possible and his mum and gran looked to each other in a disillusioned manner and Julie tutted and back handed his chest.

“You little shit.” She scolded him before his lips turned up into a toothy grin as he sniggered and his mum and gran shook their heads in disapproval of his innovative, yet ill-timed humor.

“She’s right, you are a little shit.” His gran said and Y/N burst into laughter and leaned into his mum.

Harry couldn’t stop staring at her for the rest of the night or take his hands off of her. He just yearned to be as near as possible. He knew he loved her before, but he had no idea that he was capable of loving even more. It almost hurt, how much love he felt for her. Having this together was something that tethered them to each other in such a special way for the rest of their lives. Literally, this little sea monkey looking thing, fighting for life inside of her was tangible evidence of their love and devotion to each other. He felt like he was in a trance of sheer joy for the rest of the night. And when they were back at his place he wandered into the bathroom as she applied her moisturizer with a soft smile on her face. His hand slid down from her waist and to her tummy. She was so soft to the touch and he just splayed his palm out over her and he smiled at her through the mirror as he just sent all of his good vibes and good intentions to the little clump of cells and genetic chaos that would become their perfect baby in a few months.

“Thank you.” He expressed his gratitude to her once again. This is something he’d always wanted and there wasn’t a better person for him to share this with.

“Thank you.” She insisted and he chuckled.

“Is it too early to start talking names?” He asked and she sniggered and shook her head.

“No, it’s never too early! Tell me your ideas.” She assured and he kissed her cheek sloppily before dragging her into bed and sharing ideas until they both dozed off.

---- TAG LIST ----

@sunshinemoonsposts @ottawaoutlander @gurugirl @daphnesutton @sunflovverharry @permanentllyharry @justlemmeadoreyou @angelbabyyy99 @cherrysulewski @sad-avocado @jessitpwk @reveriehs @keriberi

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timeofjuly · 1 month

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picturing what if the machine sucked in the other Mc’s from your other works bc technically it’s like au’s roght? Feel like the Mc from wishbone wouldn’t like the mc from RTC LOL. Picturing quinn seeing her first love face but with a personality she’s not used to seeing on their person AT ALLLL 😭😭

This is third time I’ve spoken to someone about this concept - RTC MC and Wishbone MC meeting - and oh my god, I absolutely have to write something for it. You are so right; the electrician and the Second Mage probably wouldn’t be the bestest buds right off the bat lol. Watch this space anon! A crack oneshot featuring them both in a predicament and pushing each other’s buttons coming soon!

It’s so funny you mention Quinn and her reaction, because for some reason I actually don’t imagine the electrician and the Second Mage looking the same! I know that makes no sense since they’re self inserts lol. Maybe that’s because I don’t have a real solidified mental picture of either of them. I think I’ve mentioned before that I imagine RTC MC as having really sharp features and a really big, genuine smile. I think I see the Second Mage as having softer features, more rounded eyebrows, less overall angularity. Funnily enough, their face wears anger a lot less naturally than the electrician’s does.

I think their mouth has a downwards tilt to it that gives them a sorta sad look when they’re not actively making an effort to have another expression - which, nowadays, they’re doing all the time, their face is never just at its resting expression because, well, it’s never resting. I also think they have very intense eyes. To me, that means really really really deep brown eyes with really thick dark lashes, but your mileage may vary.

#rtc asks #wishbone asks #I am going to put them both in a broken elevator lmao and they are not going to like it #the electrician #the second mage

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laufire · 1 year

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☕️ related to our discussion before... why is Elena Like That.

Born this way?

LOL. I do think that's part of it, but I will elaborate (quite a lot).

To put this ask in context: we've pointed out that Elena's extreme awareness of social hierarchies and other people's emotions (with some blindspots) is similar to those of characters like Cammie's Laila in The Essence of the Equinox or Dean Winchester (Elena's soul twin as far as I'm concerned!): characters who suffered abusive upbringings. Even Stefan is shown to behave the way he does in part due to growing up with an abusive father he had to manage and fawn at. It's remarkable that Elena resembles this type, given that until her parents' deaths, she lived as charmed and cushy a life as a young girl possibly could in this world.

First thing first: I see no reason to question this assumption. Cushy doesn't mean perfect and I don't think the Gilberts were so. I mean, Grayson did unethical experiments on sapient beings LOL, that's not a good sign. IIRC Elena as a child saw Something of that, but wasn't equipped to understand it at the time and seems to have shaken it off, as she often does. And there is room to argue that Miranda's encouragement of Elena could've taken the form of high expectations of her; Elena, however, seems to want to honour and meets those expectations in a pretty level-headed way that doesn't interfere with her life and ultimate goals, which is a good sign. In summary, there's absolutely nothing in the show's writing that could be interpreted as "Elena is a victim of parental abuse" without making the reach of the century.

With that out of the way, in my opinion, there are some important factors that contribute to Elena's... let's call it mimicry? of this attitude. I think, to begin with, she has an intrinsic intuition she was born with; a capacity to understand and navigate social hierarchies with ease and with no need to reflection, practice, or focused study. Some people are like this, period.

Another factor I'd consider important is her natural amorality. I know, I know, this is not how most people see Elena, to say the least. But c'mon. That girl does NOT have a code, she does NOT have principles, she does NOT have an ideology. Nothing as solid as that could survive her fluidity of character. She constantly moves the goalpost and reacts accordingly when other people move it for her. This is very different from say, Laila: someone with a sturdy moral core, with principles that, if not completely solidified (she starts out in her twenties!), develop and gain strength through the story and through the challenges she goes through. Laila's moral quandaries and outrages, in summary, are genuine.

Meanwhile, Elena is good at mimicking morals, because of another factor: she's subconsciously tuned to the image others have of her, and she knows how singularly important it is. Specifically, she knows how singularly important it is for her to retain exactly the image she wants to cultivate.

Because the thing is, and this is something that ended up working against her: Elena's learned to glorify soft power, at the expense of hard (real, personal, nontransferable) power. Personally, I've always had the headcanon that Miranda was a soft power MARVEL. Loved and idealised and perfect in that just-slightly-imperfect way that makes it all the more loveable, always at ease, admired for it. Elena looked up to her and wanted to live to her image. She might've seen the social power Miranda wielded and wanted to imitate her. And because of how charmed and privileged their lives were, and probably because Miranda was taken from her when Elena was young enough that she had yet to forcibly become aware of the limitations of this method, Elena sticks to it, sometimes stubbornly so. She's seen how well it works when it's meant to work, and for a long time it worked perfectly for her.

This leads me to how I think Elena's privilege is an important factor in how this socially-aware nature happens to work for her. The fact that she instinctively understands how structures and hierarchies work, and how to use other's feelings for her benefit, combines with how she's perfectly at ease with the status quo because so far, it's done nothing but aid her. She doesn't chafe against perceived or real limitations* because she has a (partially earned!) overconfidence in her capacity to thrive in her environment.

*I do think her gender can't be ignored: she's still a girl in a world where that can be dangerous (where that does become dangerous once the Salvatores enter the picture, but although I'm not there yet in my rewatch, IIRC her flashbacks at the end of season 3 regarding her relationship with Matt definitely painted a picture). This quote I reblogged recently really stood out to me:

But this can't be separated from how well she otherwise navigates and adapts to the status quo and from how ultimately she thinks it's better to maintain it and work within it than to challenge it. She's profoundly misogynistic, she has no use for feminist praxis, and she subtly (and later not-so-subtly) works to separate from and elevate herself above other girls, often seeking reassurance of her superiority (see: making sure Matt dating Caroline didn't actually mean he was over her). Instead of thinking "hey, men have one over me no matter what and this is unfair", her goal is to be the One Special Woman they'll be willing to compromise for (without acknowledging this won't necessarily last forever*). This works wonderfully... until the show no longer centres the perspective of a man that considers her special.

*sometimes I wonder. what if some of the information we got about Grayson had involved being a less-than-stellar husband? I think THAT would've wrecked Elena far, far more than to learn he was a torturer lol.

Another way in which her privilege both comes at hand AND gets in her way is that she will always dismiss people she sees as "below" her. People like Vicki, like human!Caroline, etc. She's aware of social hierarchies but she doesn't question them, and she sees them as far more immovable than they truly are.

This is when Dean Winchester becomes a good point of comparison. As I've said before, I think they're cut from the same cloth. But one key difference IS their wild disparity in upbringing.

Dean got four good years in (although we're eventually told they are less idyllic than they might seem, because surprise surprise, it turns out John was always a lousy husband and parent. Or, paraphrasing Dean, "the marriage wasn't perfect until she died"). Then his mother died, and everything went to shit in a SPECTACULAR way. The audience is told that there might've been periods of straight-up food scarcity, because John would leave the brothers alone in motels for longer periods than the money he left covered, and at one point Dean was even caught stealing food. He's such an obvious case of parentification that it hurts. He's a drifter, he doesn't have a safety net, the money he uses comes from schemes and hustling people at pool and poker and the like, something he obviously wasn't born learning, etc. etc.

Dean has his own blindspots but in general I think he's a better judge of character than Elena because of this. He navigates reality and hierarchies and structures, he adapts, but he's not built in to discard people at the bottom because he's been at the bottom (or as close as a white guy will get in this world!). There are several times where Sam expresses a Blissfully Liberal Opinion (sometimes college un-educates you, ime xD), like implying that doing a job at a prison is a waste of time because who tf cares if convicts get hurt, and Dean immediately shoots that down. Another time Sam makes a disapproving comment about the guy in charge of the group home Dean stayed in as a teen being an ex-con and Dean replies "what, and we're such saints?".

He has principles, is what I'm getting at. He has a morality; one he might not have in another, cushier life (he seems far chillier and breezier in "alternate timelines" episodes where his backstory has been altered in that direction). To be clear, these principles aren't fool-proof or completely consistent. He believes "every person deserves our help", but that belief holds maaaaany caveats. For one, his definition of person is limited, to the point of abject cruelty to those that fall outside it (and sometimes even more damning, towards those that once deserved the consideration until they failed to meet his standards). He has genuine, sincere sympathy for victims, AND this sympathy will translate into actual help for them!! amazing!!!... unless the way you are a victim is perceived by him as faulty on some level (see: Max, a boy with psychic powers that used them to kill his abusive family in season 1, while Dean was still at Peak Daddy Knows Best mode. And of course, Bela, who he can't process as a victim at all, even when he should see that the facts don't add up).

My point is that, despite all that, imperfect morals are still morals. There's a struggle there. They might not come natural to him and be a product of his experiences, but they're there. With Elena................. I don't see them LOL.

But another useful point of comparison is grief. It caught Elena older, on more solid ground, but I think in both cases it contributed to a need for a sense of control (of themselves and their projected images AND of those around them, more evidently manifested in their younger brothers). I think losing her parents enhanced Elena's tendency to hyper-awareness, basically.

Another thing that enhanced it? VAMPIRES VAMPIRES VAMPIRES. See, I think before the show, Elena was understimulated lol. I mean, she was dating Matt, who is ALSO very in tune with social hierarchies (but who chooses hard-power female role models like Liz and Carol. I cannot tell you how funny I find this on its own. But I mean, he clearly saw first hand how soft power was shit with Kelly's parade of lousy boyfriends). But, well, for her, Matt wasn't exactly a strong proposition. There was no challenge there. She was BORED. Caroline's insecurities and her ambition were probably the most difficult thing she had to deal with, and at that point Caroline had yet to be a real challenge herself.

But then Stefan came, and all the dangers to her life, and even Damon to a certain extent (at least, when he was something to retain and be managed without giving him too much). Elena is easily bored and THRIVES on high-stakes situations. In regards to her actual life, of course, but more in terms of high-stakes social situations, where it's only her charisma that might prevent her downfall. They make her more creative, more efficient. She pays more attention as well, which obviously makes her act more hyper-aware.

Her relationship status cannot be ignored here. Elena is extremely dependent on romantic relationships/bonds for her modus operandi, and even outside that, she's an extraordinarily social animal (that also works best with as much forced closeness as possible). It's a good thing she was a doctor during the pandemic* because if you'd make her remove herself from the world at large (worse, alone with only Damon...) she would've died of sheer boredom.

(*......... writing this down for my horror delena wip brb).

This is why she was at her best, in terms of social capital, with Stefan. HE was a strong proposition. HE was a challenge. A worthy partner and worthier opponent. And this is why she slowly loses her magic touch when she dates Damon, who has the social finesse of a baby elephant in a glassware shop. Elena responds to and raises to a challenge. If she's put on the spot, she'll surpass expectations.

This speaks to why becoming a vampire was... not that great for her social capital. Suddenly her soft power strategies didn't work as well, because nobody could forget she now had superpowers. Maybe if the show hadn't combined the double punch of hard-power-thrust-at-her with now-she-dates-Damon things would be different, she could've adapted to a new MO, but alas. This is why she's one of the only two vampires volunteering for the cure (along with Rebekah), and why she actually follows through. On some level, she's trying to return to a better time for her. She almost... fetishizes that human vulnerability of hers, and how she could get others to fight for her with it. But season 6 is a different world, with different rules and very different players, and it proves to be a huge miscalculation on her part.

Oof. This got long xD. Tl;dr: I attribute Elena being Like That to a variety of factors: her intrinsic nature: great instincts wrt social hierarchies, easy charm; a combination of lack of morals and excess of privilege both aiding her and getting in her way depending on the context; a personality that responds to challenges and gets bored and more passive without them; and a learned glorification of soft-power manipulation.

#nectargrapes #cammie tag #replies #talking to the void #my thoughts #plecverse thoughts #the vampire diaries #plecverse #elena gilbert #my schrödinger fave #dean winchester #(him too)#the essence of the equinox #laila is a fave-fave though. no schrödinger doubts about it xD #stackediaries

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hello-nichya-here · 1 year

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What's the problem with the idea that the Avatar is actually an outdated thing the world would eventually no longer need? I don't like it either, but I could never put it into words.

Simple: the Avatar exists for a reason. MANY reasons, actually, that we see all through the show.

A symbol of hope/figure of authority

While there had never been any wars in the world of Avatar to level that we see in the show until Sozin decided to be THE worst, we see that there absolutely have been smaller conflicts before, and that the Avatar has acted as a mediator so much that people were constantly just expecting Aang to fill that role - even he sees it as one of his duties, and is constantly afraid of failing people since they're often placing all of their hopes on him, not just for stuff like the war itself, but even for "smaller" things like Ba Sing Se, or helping refugees.

That makes sense since the Avatar is not only more powerful than any other human, but also a more "neutral" authority figure, since, while each Avatar belongs to one of the four nations, they are not said nation's rulers (usually) and also are...

A bridge between the four nations

The Avatar has to go to many places in the world to master all four elements, which usually takes years. Inevitably, that leads to them learning from other cultures which can help solve conflicts or even prevent them all together - for exemple, we see Aang absolutely loving the Fire Nation and it's culture, even though it's rulers have spent a whole century destroying the world AND were responsible for the genocide of his people.

In episodes like "The Swamp" and "The Guru" the show basically tells us that the separation between the nations is basically an illusion since, in the end, humanity is ONE group, even with all of the differences between everyone. The finale solidifies that, by having all nations celebrating Zuko's coronation and therefore the end of the war, symbolizing the union between all of them.

"But didn't Roku say the nations were supposed to remain separate?"

Yes. And he was wrong. And Aang, another Avatar, corrected his mistake because...

The Avatar Cycle allows the past Avatars to correct their own mistakes

Not a single human being is perfect, and that very much includes the Avatar. However, unlike ordinary people, the Avatar not only reincarnates, but can interact with it's past self and even allow it to "take over" for a moment.

Koh clearly feels animosity towards Aang because a previous Avatar tried to kill him, and even says to Aang that they will meet again - but considering how he also said "you've come to me with a new face" which in this case could also be seen as "in another life" - implying that maybe it won't even be Aang who will fight him.

Roku full on says that the war is his own mistake, and that sadly Aang has to be the one to fix it - but they're also the same person, or rather, the same spirit. A spirit that is always learning, always getting stronger, always becoming wiser - and is practically immortal. The Avatar spirit isn't "set in his ways", unable to change to better do it's job. It is constantly adapting to the world's needs.

Looking at it that way, the Avatar would naturally become better at it's own role in every incarnation, which would make him even more respected, more capable, and even more necessary, especially when we look at a situation like Kyoshi taking over Aang's body during a trial for a murder commited by her/them in a past life - but she doesn't do it to defend herself but as a way of correcting a mistake/deliberate historical lie.

This shows us that the Avatar Cycle not only allows the Avatar to correct it's own mistakes, but also as a way of acting as...

A permanent access to knowledge that has been lost

Aang is the last airbender, and that meant that he was the last hope of air-nomad culture eventually being rebuilt. However, even if the Avatar had been from one of the other nations, said Avatar would have still been able to talk to it's past lives - some of which were air-nomads, and others who had lived in a world where they were still around AND were their sifus.

We also see Aang interacting with Koh, with Avatar Roku's animal guide, and even with a lion turtle that existed before the Avatar cycle (and perhaps humanity as a whole) even existed. His mission also makes him go after Wan Shi Tong, as well as and the sun warriors and the last surviving dragons.

All of these give him crucial information. Information that, maybe, someday, a different Avatar will need. And even if the world is radically different by that point, with every record of everything that Aang knew being gone, that Avatar will still be able to turn to Aang himself for help. And if, once again, years down the line the situation repeats itself, a new Avatar will be able to just turn to either of them for advice too.

To me, this confirms that not only would the world NEVER reach a point in which the Avatar is no longer needed, but in fact it's importance will likely only grow as the years go by, because things tend to just naturally be lost to time, even if they are super important - and a way to reach that knowledge could literally save lives.

Well, all of that already shows just how freaking important the Avatar has always been and always will be, but this list would not be complete withot the fact that the Avatar is...

A bridge between worlds

There are A LOT of spiritual shenanigans in Avatar, plenty of which have humans in danger - often because someone fucked up, either by pissing off a spirit or by neglecting the spiritual side of the world.

For exemple, we have Hei-Bai kidnapping people because the Fire Nation burned down his forest, Zhao killing the moon and thus making the waterbenders powerless to protect the North Pole, the people of a Fire Nation fishing village not only being sick and poor because their river is poluted but also no longer being able to interact with the spirit of said river that was caring for them, the people of a Fire Nation fishing village not only being sick and poor because their river is poluted but also no longer being able to interact with the spirit of said river that was caring for them etc.

As the Avatar, Aang was able to either fix some of these situations by himself, or to greatly assist people until the problem was fixed. He managed to appease Hei-Bai so he would not only stop lashing out but also set free everyone he had kidnapped. He and the ocean spirit joined forces to make sure the Fire Nation wouldn't be able to take over the North Pole. He helped Katara impersonate the Painted Lady to make sure the fishing village would no longer be exploited/polluted and then helped clean the river which allowed the real Painted Lady to protect her people.

We can also not forget that while Koh was totally trying to steal his face, he also warned Aang about Zhao's plan to kill the ocean and the moon, and gave him a hint as to what form they had taken in the human world - can you imagine him helping out if anyone other than Aang had turned to him for help?

The Avatar isn't just more powerful than the average human due to his connection the spirit world - he has the respect of plenty of said spirits AND of humans, which we see Aang use to help people because the Avatar's duty is to the world - ONE world that is a combination of both - to keep peace and ballance.

Without the Avatar, spirits and humans would always be either at war or completely separate, which harms both sides. And this reminds me that...

BONUS RANT: Spirituality has always been and always will be a core part of the world of Avatar

That's right, people. You get to see me bitch about TWO tropes I hate.

One of the reasons I believe people misunderstand the role of spirituality itself (and it's "messiah" in the form of the Avatar) in the story, is that they look at it like it's just a religion most people of that world seem to share, and wrongfully assume that it could just stop being significant or even present at all in their world if every nation just collectively "stopped believing in it/taking it seriously."

That could not be further from what we see in the show. The spirits and their world, the Avatar, chakras, chi, bending, meditation - all of these things are not part of a religion, they're just a fact of life. In "The Swamp" we are full on told that EVERYTHING is connected. People, spirits, animals, nature itself. It's all one big thing that it's sort of broken down in smaller categories.

Spirituality in the world of Avatar can never be seen as the same as say, Christianity. Something people can convert to or leave, believe or not believe. Humans can literally travel to the spirit world, and many spirits chose to stay in the human world. There's no "not believing" in it, or "choosing not to engage with it."

The biggest proof of that is the Fire Nation itself. It has distanced itself from spirituality as much as any society in that world ever could. Yet they still have temples, the sages have many simmilarities to clergies, and even the princess is taught by two creepy twins that clearly have some weird spiritual shenanigans going on. Hell, Ozai, a prince, married the Avatar's grand-daughter. Her ancestor's reincarnation was literally being hunted down as public enemy number one, and she was still seen as worthy enough to marry a prince - one that became Fire Lord, and whose children had the Avatar's blood. And, of course, Sozin started the war by using the power of comet-enhanced BENDING. Again, that's the nation that distanced itself from spirituality the most.

This isn't a matter of Progress VS Tradition, Science VS Religion. Spirituality and science are one in the same in the world of Avatar.

"But the Fire Nation is the most technologically advanced and it distanced itself from religion the most!"

Yes, but all of it's cool war-ships, zepplins, and even the drill were using pretty simple stuff to work: burning coal, hot air, boiling water, etc. All of these already easy things were made A LOT easier by having firebenders around - and once again, bending IS part of the spiritual side of the world, showing that even the Fire Nation cannot distance itself from it completely, and in fact constantly needs it to achive it's goals. Hell, we even see them having to use the power of earthbenders to get the material they'd need to keep all of their new toys running, so even their claim that they are superior to the other nations feels hollow.

Spirituality is a feature of that world, not a bug. It is not an insignificant detail that can changed or deleted, and the story would be radically altered and make less sense without it. And the Avatar is very much included in that list of super important aspects of the narrative and themes.

It's almost like that's the name of the sow for a reason or something...

#asks #long post #avatar meta #avatar fandom problems

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therhythmafterthesummer · 4 months

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I absolutely loved your answer to the 'did Chris had a type before pretty' thing (I always love a whipped Christopher) and it was so funny to me how binnie knew he was screwed as soon as pretty moved in hddhshdhddjj we love a supportive bestie 🥰 but also it made me think, did pretty had a type herself? I don't remember if you mentioned her dating other people but surely she had some things she liked in a man right?? I too love talking about her (and the rest of wr) as if they were real (they are to me lol)

- 🍒

prev ask for context

hehehe glad you enjoyed my rambling. i mean Bin isn't Chris' right hand in the pack for no reason, he truly truly understands him (and vice versa).

i also don't think pretty had a type! she did date before Chris, but my current backstory is that she never fully clicked with anyone in a meaningful way, so her relationships were always kinda meh.

just like Chris, i think her former partners were probably very different physically, and most likely they were completely different from Chris personality-wise. i think she might've felt dissatisfied and unfulfilled in many aspects for this reason, and meeting Chris was like an epiphany for her. interacting with him probably solidified in her mind what she wanted from a partner.

i'm pretty sure i haven't solidified this in canon yet, but it's currently what's going through my mind regarding her romantic past~

#🍒 anon #ask #wereroomies ask #wereroomies headcanons

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styleslistic · 2 years

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How it Turned Out - Harry Styles fic Part 4

Y/N and Harry are nominated for the same Grammy and it's just a question of who will win. They finally meet in person but can they get over their phone call? Featuring anxious harry.

This is a much longer installment! I feel like we're really beginning to get into the meat of the story now.

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Taglist: @theekyliepage @sleutherclaw

Y/N wasn't really one to hold a grudge so she was more than happy to put her phone call with Harry behind her. Ultimately, she decided, it wasn't that deep. He'd misjudged where she was at in her career, and was probably not thinking about how the offer would sound from her end. And that was that.

It helped that they'd both been nominated for the same Grammy. Harry for his album Fine Line, and Y/N for hers called Morning Toast. That pretty much solidified that they were on equal footing to the public, and wiped any lingering imposter syndrome from Y/N's mind.

Y/N planned to make good on her promise to actually meet Harry now that she knew they'd be at the same award show. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy and honestly, their fans were right, they cold write an absolutely banging song together one day if they put their minds to it.

So she found herself bringing up their negliected text conversations the day before the award show, to send him a message.

Y/N: This is your 24 hour notice period to let me know if we're gonna end up dressed in the same outfit.

She needn't worry of course, their stylists will have made sure that their outfits were sufficiently unique, but it felt like an easy way to break the ice. Call it an olive branch.

But the hours ticked by, and no response. It was a little embarassing to be ghosted by Harry Styles himself.

Until an hour before she was due to leave, when her phone buzzed with a response.

Harry: okay I was going to send you a photo, but apparently I'm actually legally not allowed to. So I guess we'll just have to wait and see.

Y/N smiled to herself. Olive branch successfully received! It was sweet that he'd thought to send a photo.

Y/N: Oof, very suspenseful!

Before she could wait for a reply, her phone was whisked away from her so they could do her final hair and makeup checks.

Red carpets were kind of awful, but since she was nominated, Y/N figured she should make the effort to talk to some reporters.

For obvious reasons, there were more than a few questions about her outfit. Namely who she had to bribe to let her arrive on the red carpet shirtless.

"Well," she told one interviewer. "I had to sign a lot of paper work saying that I would keep my nips covered, and then practice moving without flashing everyone. It took weeks of training." She winked for effect, and to keep the interviewer on her toes. In reality, she was obviously covered up underneath her jacket, and a hand in each pocket did more than enough to keep the lapels in place.

She moved onto the next person, who asked her "do you think you'll win?". It was a slightly cruel question that he seemed to think would trap her. But she'd faced plenty of those in her time.

"I'm up against some really great musicians, I especially love Taylor and Harry's albums. But equally I know I've worked just as hard as they have and I believe that my album is a solid contender. I'll be happy with whoever wins, but I think it'd be really special for an album that openly speaks about being a bisexual woman could get recognised." She felt good about her answer, toeing the line between confident and humble. But equally, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty knowing that not every artist had the luxury of being as open about their sexuality as she was.

She moved to the next person with a microphone, who greeted her warmly before

"Harry over here!" You hadn't noticed him, but he must've arrived while you were being interviewed. He looked up and smiled at the interviewer, mouthing a brief "hello".

"I know him," said the interviewer proudly. Y/N smiled generously.

"That makes one of us!" she joked.

"Oh, you've never met him? We better change that now," he said, beckoning Harry over again. This time Harry nods and makes his way over.

"Hi Harry. Congrats on the nomination. I've got your fellow nominee Y/N here too, and she was just explaining to me that the two of you have never met."

Harry turned to look at Y/N with a smile.

"That's true," he said, extending a hand. "Nice to meet you, I'm Harry." Y/N took his hand with an amused grin.

"I'm Y/N," she mimicks, keeping up their charade. "Now tell me Harry, are you famous or something, because I feel like I know you from somewhere."

The Harry and the interviewer laugh.

"That's a mighty fine suit you've got there Y/N, almost as good as mine," Harry smiles cheekily.

"Why thank you, although you seem to have been generously provided with a shirt for once, unlike me," Y/N smirks.

"Must be a special occassion."

"Actually," butts in the interviewer. "I'd love to ask you both about that. You're both pretty notorious for doing your shows shirtless, what is that about?"

"Uhhh..." said Harry with a shy laugh. He looked to Y/N for help.

"I can't speak for Harry, but I don't think it should feel all that outrageous for people to be able to see my body. People take it as a statement from me, and to an extent it is, but that's not why I do it. I do it because I like the way it looks, I like that people are seeing me on my terms and maybe a little bit for the drama."

Harry threw her an appreciative smile, before saying "It was nice talking to you," to the interviewer, turning to Y/N to say "Really lovely meeting you," and ducking into the venue.

Y/N said her goodbyes to the papparazzi and made her way in after him, keen to talk more to him. He seemed to have disappeared into the throng of people milling about inside, however, making him difficult to find. Y/N made the rounds, saying hi to friends and congratulating those who had been nominated for awards.

She was, however, determined. She scanned her eyes over the crowds of people making their ways towards their various tables and caught Harry just as he sat himself down on

Harry," she said. "Harry!" she repeated when he continued staring stubbornly in the other direction.

"What!" he finally snapped. Y/N frowned.

"Um, are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said with an eye roll.

"I'm sorry, I thought we agreed that next time we met we would introduce ourselves properly," she said, crossing her arms for dramatic effect. "But if now's a bad time..."

"No it's, uh, thanks for saving me out there, I really did not have an answer to that question."

"No worries," she replied. He still wouldn't look at her. "I thought we could maybe have a chat, if you're interested," she continued.

"That's not necessary, I know where we stand," he said sullenly.

"What do you mean? I thought we had a deal that next time we were in the same room we'd finally have a conversation. Don't tell me that interview was all for show?"

"Well yes we did say that, but that was before-"

"Before I bruised your ego by rejecting your generous offer to make you look good?" she smirked, feeling like she'd hit the nail on the head of what his problem was.

"No I-"

"Relax, I'm a big girl. It's not that deep, Harry." She really meant it as well.

"No that's not what happened okay. That's not what I mean," he pleaded.

"Seriously, let's start over. I hear there's a spare chair at my table, and if you're not here with anyone, I think it's high time we got accquainted, yes?"

"Oh of course," he said, a little confused. "I'd be honoured."

"Honoured? My, aren't we old fashioned," Y/N said. "Alright, well my table is over there." She pointed to her table. "So when you have a moment, pop over and say hi."

Harry's eyes widened in some emotion that looked strangely hopeful given his previous rudeness.

"Yeah, I will be over in a few minutes, I promise," he said with alarming sincerity.

"Alright see you then," Y/N said.

As he had so solemnly promised, Harry did sit down at the spare seat next to her a couple of minutes later.

Y/N opened her mouth to speak, but found a hand planted over her mouth.

"Please just let me speak, first" Harry implored. "Don't say anything until I've said my piece," he begged. Y/N's eyes widened in confusion, but Harry just waited until she nodded before removing his hand.

"Jesus, take me out to dinner first will you?" Y/N joked, pointing towards his recently moved hand. Harry met her with an irritated look.

"Okay, sorry! Shutting up now." She zipped her lips.

Harry waited a moment as if to check she really was going to stay quiet, and then started speaking.

"I just wanted to to apologise properly for what I asked you. I am so embarrassed about how I treated you on the phone. I was so wrapped up in how great you are, and how great your music is, and I somehow decided that that was something I could use for my own benefit. I wasn't even thinking about how it would seem on the other end. I never meant to imply I thought I was better than you, or more successful or anything, because you're truly one of my favourite artists. And I just think you're so so cool and I'd really like to be friends. And now you think I'm some pretentious dickhead, and maybe you're right, I don't know. And then I was so rude to you earlier. I didn't mean to snap at you I was just so scared I was gonna fuck it up again." He blurted the whole thing out in one breath, staring stubbornly in the other direction and wringing his hands in his lap.

"Harry," Y/N said, cautiously reaching out to stop the movement of his with one of hers, and using her other hand to gently coax his face back in her direction. "You're shaking," she pointed out, concerned."

"Shit, sorry." He snatched his hands away and planted them solidly on his thighs.

"No it's okay, look at me yeah?" She gently pulled his hands away. "Look at me."

With what looked like a concerted effort, he did as she asked. His eyes looked a little glossy.

"God, this is so embarrassing," he said. Y/N shook her head as if to say this won't do.

"Okay, now you be quiet yes?" she said. Harry nodded obediently. "I was very sleep deprived and caught by surprised when you asked me to open for you, so I'm sorry if I came across angrier than I was. I was a little peeved, I'll give you that, but I meant what I said earlier. It's water under the bridge, let's forget the whole thing and be friends okay?"

Harry smiled nervously.

"You're sure you don't secretly hate me?"

Y/N chuckled.

"Course I don't," she smiled. "Now then, what do you say to a drink?" she said, reaching for a two glasses and the bottle of prosecco in the middle of the table. Harry nodded , and watched as she pours them a healthy amount each. She handed him a glass.

"Cheers," she said. "To us." Harry clinked his glass against hers. "And may the best album win."

"Oh please," said Harry. "Everyone knows it'll be yours that wins.

"I don't know... people seem pretty obsessed with Watermelon Sugar."

"Hey, you know for a fact One Time* outstreamed Watermelon Sugar by far," Harry pointed out.

"Youve done your homework, pulled that statistic out of no where didn't you?" Y/N laughed, surprised. "I may have outstreamed you, but only one of us was smart enough to release a song that was appropriate for the radio," Y/N replied, referencing the rather explicit lyrics of her song.

"You so could've come up with a radio appropriate version, surely?" Harry asked with genuine curiosity.

"Oh yeah, tell me how I could've rewritten the lyrics I just wanna take you home and fuck you into something they'd play on the radio without it sounding completely ridiculous."

"Hm, okay let me think," Harry said, taking a sip of his drink. "This is harder than I expected."

"Told you!"

"You could've said, um," he paused again, making Y/N laugh. "How about take you home and screw you, oh no, that's terrible." He shook hid head and laughed. "Yep, you were right." The pair chuckled.

An announcer came onto the stage and asked people to return to their seats.

"That's my cue to go back to my table, I guess," said Harry. "But will I see you at the after party? I'd love to talk more."

"Yeah I will be, I promise," Y/N replied, echoing his earlier words.

"Great." Harry hesitated. "And good luck, you really do deserve it."

"Good luck, Harry. So do you," she said with a smile. With a final nod, Harry made his way back to his seat.

***

The award show was good fun, with great performances from other musicians, including a few of Y/N's friends. But in all honesty, she couldn't really pay attention.

She was nervous about the outcome of her nomination. She wanted to win, or else get the whole thing out of the way. The anticipation was a lot.

But more than that she found that her eyes kept slipping to find Harry's several tables away. From their short conversation earlier, it was clear they had a similar sense of humour, so when a presenter or a winner said something that made her laugh, she looked without thinking to see if he was laughing too. Almost invariably, he was. More important, though, was the fact that more often than not, he was looking at her too. And that meant... well it meant something, she wasn't entirely sure what.

Eventually, the time came for Best Album to be announced, and neither of them could look away from each other for a second. It's you, mouthed Harry. Y/N grinned and shook her head. It's definitely you, she replied.

Then the person on stage started to speak.

"And the winner of this years Best Album goes to..."

The room seemed to close around the two of them, as they waited.

And waited.

On stage, the announcer opened the envelope and took the card out at a glacial pace.

"It goes to Taylor Swift!" The announcer shouted.

Harry and Y/N's eyes widened in joint surprise, and they just sort of stared at one another. Y/N had quite honestly forgotten that other people were nominated for the award at all. She mechanically started to clap, eyes still locked on Harry, who remained as confused looking as ever. An honest to God grin broke out on Y/N's face at the sight of it. It seemed he had forgotten the very same thing.

Harry seemed to knock himself out of his bewildered stage with a chuckle, which caused Y/N to break into a quiet laugh, which made both of them giggle. Y/N took a deep breath in through her nose to try and calm herself, conscious that there were probably cameras on her.

Finally, when Taylor started to speak into the microphone on stage, Y/N dragged her eyes away from Harry. She really owed it to Taylor to give this speech her full attention.

The next chapter will be Harry and Y/N hanging out at the Grammys after party and finally getting to know each other, maybe bumping also into an ex... who's to say.

*Y/N's song One Time is inspired by the song One Time by Chinchilla .I imagine Y/N's version to be a bit more guitar heavy/rock influenced but the vibe of song is just so good I had to use it. Especially those vocals at the end woweeee.

My askbox is open for any questions about the series! And for those wondering, I have deliberately set this series before Harry's House for ~plot reasons~.

#harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #musician!y/n #how it turned out

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finniestoncrane · 1 year

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sending in another request (hopefully that's allowed!!) because lmao I have to make you be gay online 😤 /j

Character: 🤡 (again, I'll let you pick lol)

Scenario: 💃

Sentence: ⚫️

(and afab!reader lol)

(let's also pretend that this isn't just like an absolute fantasy of mine!)

Sway

general!harley quinn x female!reader/dancing meda you can do whatever you want because i love you u-u minors DNI!! 🔞 500 words, cw: it's just fluff, so much fluff, and a kiss! requests are closed • kofi link • minors DNI • tag: finnie500

She was a lot more graceful than you. Balanced, light on her feet. There was no doubt she was a better dancer, and could be sprawling out over the floor, one complicated move after the other, footwork impeccable, looking as though she might be gliding on ice, floating on air.

But Harley stood still, swaying from side to side with you, her arms wrapped around your waist and her head resting on your shoulder as she hummed to the music. As you looked around you, at the other couples, the people sitting around the dancefloor, watching everyone, it felt like they were focused just on you and Harley, watching and judging. Because regardless of how often she held you, kissed you, pushed you to dance with her, you still couldn’t help but feel that you weren’t quite…enough.

Harley was adorable, beautiful, hot. Desirable, in a terrifying kind of way. Terrifying in an incredibly arousing way. Sweet and smart enough that she always got what she wanted, and who she wanted, and you couldn’t quite believe that you were the person she was willing to settle on.

Sensing your unease, something she was particularly good at, she lifted her head, inquisitive look on her face, brows raised and smile forming a frown.

“You don’t look good, sug’! You ok?”

“I’m fine…I’m…yeah I’m ok.”

“Hmmm…”

She lifted your arm and spun underneath it, on her return to face you she pressed in close, her nose to yours, eyes wide.

“Boop! Oooh…maybe we should go get some fresh air? You didn’t even kinda smile there!”

Before you had a chance to play it off, pretend that the invite to the balcony wasn’t a literal dream come true, she already had your hand, stomping through the crowds, her regular, brash charm separating them like waves.

You both leaned your elbows down against the railing, silently taking in the moment, the way the stars shone, the clouds that obscured half of the moon. It was nice out here, you could breathe. The perils of dating an outgoing, social butterfly. You rarely had a minute alone with her. Which meant that while it was an exciting and whirlwind romance, there hadn’t been many sweet moments where you could just be you, the two of you, quiet and vulnerable.

In this rare situation, where both of you had been quiet for more than five minutes, you moved your hand slowly towards her, meeting it quicker than expected to find she was reaching for you. An awkward giggle, wide smiles on both of your faces. In sync, you both sighed as you stared up at the sky, a deep blue instead of black this evening. Blue like her eyes.

You turned to her, finding her turning to you at the same time.

“Wow…”

You interrupted each other as you spoke.

“You look beautiful.”

A solidifying notion that you were meant to be, same thoughts, same feelings, same appreciation. The calm romance didn’t last long, before you were receiving a swift punch the arm.

“Jinx! Now you gotta buy me a drink, and I have expensive tastes bub!”

She trotted off back inside, and you followed, pleased that you got to be the one she punched.

#finnie500 #finnie writes #harley quinn #harley quinn x reader

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wisteriawilds · 1 day

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been thinking a lot recently about my latest dnd character (the brainrot is so real), so i wrote a little thing about her first meeting with her patron. everyone who decides to read this, meet evangeline ‘agency’ friloux, my tiefling barbarian/warlock absolute mess of a girl.

Cold. Hard. The feeling of hitting the ground ran like a shock through Evangeline before she had the chance to realize she was even falling. Pain. A twinge of blinding discomfort in her knee prevented her from standing back up immediately. How long had she been walking this time? It had to have been at least a day, maybe two. Time was something she no longer bothered to keep track of, not since the last time she’d been cast out. It didn’t matter anyway, there was no commitment she couldn’t miss nor person she needed to meet.

Hands planted firmly in the mud before her, Evangeline took a moment to breathe – or at least attempt to. She could feel the tenderness of the Earth, the softness of the mud that had yet to solidify. It was almost nice, almost comforting. Maybe she could stay here a while, take a moment to rest.

Shifting her weight to the uninjured leg, Evangeline settled further onto the ground. She barely noticed when the tears started flowing, more surprised that there were any left than of their appearance. There was a time in which she would reprimand himself for showing emotion so freely, afraid of the punishment that would be inflicted on her. At least in her current situation the only one who could punish her was herself – but boy, was she good at that. Her parents – if one would even call the myriad of failed guardians that – had taught her well. Silence was the only option, speaking out of turn would be dealt with immediately. Free will was simply an illusion to her; every choice she could remember having made was not her own to choose. Each time she was placed with another family, there was a second where she thought it could actually get better this time. And each time she was proven wrong. After running away six months ago, she vowed to never again have a family. They did more harm than good, she could take care of herself. What she didn’t dare admit, either out loud or to herself, was how desperately she wished for someone to care for her, to show her love and affection for the first time in her eight years of life.

A small glint of silver in the dirt between her fingers brought her attention away from her thoughts. What looked like the top of a circular band stuck out, barely visible in between the layers of Earth. Wiping away a stray tear, she struggled to brush the object free: a thin silver band with tarnished engravings she couldn’t quite make out. The new curiosity was more than enough to keep her mind at bay, the exhaustion taking the backburner for the moment. Without hesitation, she picked up the ring and slipped it onto her finger, the fit nearly perfect. It felt natural — almost too natural — on, like it was made just for her and her for it. There was a certain warmth to it, a sort of comfort she had longed for ever since she could remember. A smile spread across her face as she adjusted the ring to face front. It was quite a beautiful little thing, and it was all hers. Her first, and only, possession.

Burning. Fire. Heat. Smoke suddenly began to rise from the spot on her hand where the ring had rested on her finger, the once soothing warmth transforming into a blinding sensation of pure heat. Evangeline yelped, jumping to his feet before collapsing from the sheer pain of standing. The ring, sprung from his finger sometime during the onset of the burn, had fallen to the ground, now burning a circular hole into the earth. It burrowed deeper and deeper until all that remained visible was the growing column of smoke, so tall that it nearly reached the tops of nearby trees. Not a breeze in sight, the air felt overwhelmingly sultry as the temperature climbed a good ten degrees. Beads of sweat pouring down her face, Evangeline fought the urge to lose consciousness. It was a hard-pressed battle to win, yet she persisted. As the spots of black faded from her vision, the smoke appeared to take on the form of something almost… human like? It couldn’t be. She had to be hallucinating, there was no possibility of a sentient cloud of smoke.

As if determined to prove Evangeline wrong, the gaseous form solidified into a very strange looking woman. She could’ve been a tiefling if one were to squint, but there was some otherworldly air to her that set her in a world of her own. The woman nodded curtly at Evangeline, striding over to her and extending a hand.

“Hello, child.” Her voice boomed, channeling the forces of the fading flames into a resounding, powerful tone. Red hair flowed nearly down to her shoulders, wild and untamed, with crimson-pink ears pointing through the curls. Evangeline couldn’t help but notice how scarred the woman’s face was, — mirroring that of her own — and how the indentations and disturbed tissue seemed to add to her beauty. I wish my scars were beautiful, Evangeline thought.

Shakily extending a hand, Evangeline stepped within arm’s reach. “Who… are you?” she asked, feeling the heat transfer to her skin when the pair touched.

The woman smiled gently at Evangeline, kneeling to better match her height. “My name is Idalia. I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now, Evangeline.” Idalia placed her other hand on top of Evangeline’s, squeezing gently in attempted reassurance.

Evangeline’s eyes widened at the use of her name, her tremor expanding to the entirety of her arms. Determined to not show her fear, she steadied herself and looked confidently into Idalia’s eyes. “You know my name. Clearly you know who I am, things about me, my family — families — I’d guess. What do you want from me?”

“The question is what do you want from me, dear,” Idalia replied, a sweet dulcetness seeping into her voice. “You’ve gone through so much for such a young child, and I wanted to lend a helping hand. What is it you desire?”

Pulling her hands away, Evangeline stepped back and crossed her arms, a small scoff escaping her lips. Nobody ever asked her what she wanted, and if they did, it was never with good intentions. “Nothing, if it’s coming from you.” She turned away from Idalia, taking two steps in the opposite direction before something stopped her in her place.

Panic. Feet planted firmly on the floor, try as she might, Evangeline could not take a step. Something — someone, rather, — was keeping her still, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that someone was Idalia. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, the anxiety threatening to bubble over any second. She couldn’t let her see that, though. Weakness was not accepted. Ever. Evangeline took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand and contract. “I take it that was the wrong answer,” she called over her shoulder. “Release me, and I promise I’ll hear you out. I’d like to at least see your face when you threaten me next time.”

After what felt like an eternity of silence, Evangeline felt the pressure around her legs fade and her freedom return. She turned to face Idalia, as promised, mustering up the angriest, most threatening face she could manage. “What do you want from me?”

Shrill laughter filled the air, the sound more fear-inducing than even the holding spell. “You really are just a child, aren’t you? Pity. I had thought you smarter than that. Someone should have taught you how to recognize nobility when you see them, girl. To treat them with some respect.”

Now it was Evangeline’s turn to laugh. A cheery, mocking giggle matched the leering smirk on her face, the fear dissipating as soon as the woman opened her mouth. “And I thought you were smarter than to think mere words would inflict fear upon me. Nothing you nor anybody else says to me is going to cause me any pain. Not anymore. I’m not afraid of you, Idalia.”

There was such venom imbued into her name that Idalia couldn’t help but take a step back, overwhelmed with the sheer viciousness of such a small girl. It took only a few seconds for her to regain her composure, after which she rationed a more direct approach was necessary to get through to the child. “I see. How about I just get straight to it then? You are a poor, lost little soul, wandering from forest to forest in desperate search of enough nourishment and shelter to make it another week. You have no worldly possessions, no place to call home, no family to love you. You have nothing. You are nothing. And I am offering to change that. To give you a family, people who will show you care and affection for the first time in your entire life. No more will you collapse from exhaustion after days of walking, nor will you be kicked out by foster families who offered false promises of their undying adoration. I can grant you true happiness, if only you allow it.” Idalia laughed, eyes narrowed to glare harshly at Evangeline. “Now, fearful one, do you want a family or not? I’m not in the habit of making offers twice.”

Choking back a sob, Evangeline closed the distance between her and Idalia. Gently reaching a hand out, she stood on her tiptoes to reach out and brush her fingertips over the ‘X’ shaped scar on Idalia’s nose. The woman recoiled instantly, surprised by the tenderness of her touch. Evangeline held her contact, refusing to let the woman pull away. “You’re like me, aren’t you?” Evangeline asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone broke you too. I’m sorry.”

Idalia’s eyes filled with tears, the emotion overpowering any remaining malice she harbored towards Evangeline. She reached out and touched Evangeline’s brand, the three horizontal black lines charred deep into her flesh. It was the mark of prisoners who had been sent to Carta, a place reserved for those who committed only the most heinous of crimes. One mark per conviction, placed prominently enough the whole of Noven would notice and avoid them at all costs. Three marks, like the brand Evangeline bore, was the worst of them all. Only the worst of the worst, the scourges of the continent, received three marks. Done with remarkable precision, the brands were designed to last a lifetime, no matter how long that may be. Evangeline’s brands, however, upon closer inspection by Idalia, appeared slightly crooked, like someone had attempted to recreate them. Realization dawned upon her at once, and she cupped her hands around the child’s face. “Who did this to you?”

Her fingertips felt like razor blades running along Evangeline’s brand, every touch sending a shiver of pain through her face. The wounds had never completely healed, likely the result of the depravity of their infliction’s methodology. The pain had faded since they were first carved into her nine years ago, but from time to time they flared up with renewed vigor. She tried to forget how tender they still were, pushing the pain to the back of her mind so she could think clearly. “My… parents,” Evangeline answered, the word feeling strange and bitter on her tongue. “They couldn’t comprehend how a pure, human family like themselves could have a monster for a child, so they made sure everyone else would know the devil I am.” She laughed, brushing off their cruelty for a mere fact of life.

“You’re not a devil,” Idalia immediately interjected. “Nor are you a monster.” She tucked a piece of hair behind Evangeline’s ear before lowering herself onto the ground, motioning for Evangeline to sit next to her. She held her in gentle silence as she cried, finally letting out all the emotions she’d kept bottled in for the entirety of her ten-year lifespan. It was decided: she would protect this child, give her the family she not only yearned for but deserved.

Evangeline sniffled, crying softly into Idalia’s shoulder after settling down in the dirt next to her. Maybe this strange woman wasn’t so bad, after all. “Neither are you, Idalia. You’re not a monster at all.” No response came, but she could see the tears falling across the woman's face, eyes filled with emotion. Once there were no more tears to shed, Evangeline sat up to face Idalia, a question forming on her lips: “Will you tell me what you wanted from me now?”

Sighing, Idalia nodded and shifted to look Evangeline in the eyes. “It is part of my job to fulfill the desires of others. It involves a sort of exchange between myself and the other party: I grant your wish, you agree to a set of terms I’ve laid forth. Such is the offer I wanted to extend to you, though I do admit the terms I’d propose have changed significantly since meeting you.” Taking another deep breath, she steadied herself for her final proposal. “So, with that information in hand, I’ll ask one more time: What is it you desire?”

Unsure quite what to make of this, Evangeline sat quietly, pondering whether there was anything she desired strongly enough to agree to a deal with Idalia. “Honestly? Nothing. Nothing other than a real family, though I gave up on that dream a long time ago.”

With a flick of her hand, Idalia conjured a piece of parchment and a pen. She smiled gently at Evangeline, holding the parchment out to her. “If a family is what you desire, I can provide it. The terms of our arrangement are written here– I think they’re quite reasonable. Take some time, read it over, let me know what you think.” Idalia waited for Evangeline to take the parchment before standing to leave, heading far enough away to remain in sight, but out of earshot.

Despite their less than amicable beginning, Idalia’s word was true: the terms of her proposed pact were quite reasonable. In exchange for Evangeline’s placement with a suitable family, she would help Idalia in her future endeavors. While the wording wasn’t necessarily too specific, Evangeline could tell it was written with pure intentions… she hoped. Either way, taking this deal seemed infinitely better than her current reality of hopelessly wandering the forests and scrounging up scraps that barely constitute a meal for a small child, let alone a growing preteen. She took one last glance at the small, looping handwriting before walking over to Idalia and gently tapping her on the shoulder.

“I’ll sign,” Evangeline murmured, avoiding making direct eye contact with her soon-to-be patron. She shifted slightly on her feet, trying to distract from the significance of the situation. “Are you sure you want to do this?” Idalia asked, lowering herself to better be on face-level. “I am not going to force you into anything you do not want to do. You are welcome to tell me no.” Smiling slightly, Evangeline grabbed the pen from Idalia’s hand and signed her name, hands shaking at a steady rhythm. “I’m sure. I want this.”

#dnd #writeblr #my writing #noven #wisteriawrites #evangeline friloux #she’s just a girl in a blender #dnd character #dnd5e #dnd writing #dnd oc

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