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cudan2 · 3 years

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One Last Surgery

Spring Break Shadowing Part 5.1

Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Word Count: 2,043

Summary: You finally find out the reason for going to the children’s hospital, but you’re more distracted than usual today and Dr. Cullen can tell.

A/N: Tell me why part 5 of SBS takes up over half of the whole series? I’ve had this sitting in my drafts for 5 months because I keep adding more to it smh. Now it’s too long so I’ve decided to split it up into 3 parts (in addition to parts 6 and 7). I’m making the final edits the rest of this part now - 5.2 should be posted in like two days.

Anyways, this is technically the beginning of #1 and #2 on my headcanon list.

Masterlist

XXX

Morgan Stanley Children’s Hospital is only across the street from Doctor Cullen’s office, but it seems to take forever to get there. You trail the doctor like a lost puppy through a skyway and a series of corridors before eventually reaching the right building. Different is definitely an understatement.

Gone are the linoleum-tiled floors, the abstract paintings lining the hallways, and the stark white walls. Instead, there are bright colors everywhere you look. Artwork featuring various galaxies and planets scatter throughout the hospital, and giant stars are imprinted along the floors; even the whole atmosphere just feels different.

You don’t get much time to analyze the differences though. Doctor Cullen is wasting no time to reach the destination, and his long legs aren’t making it any easier to keep up.

“Not that I don’t like surprises, but any chance you can tell me what we’re doing in the children’s hospital now?”

“Impatient, are we?” Doctor Cullen chuckles. He stops at an elevator and pushes the up button, only giving into your question once he catches a glimpse of your pout. “Alright, you win. Are you familiar with a cleft palate or cleft lip?”

The elevator dings, the doors sliding open with it. You shake your head no and get on the elevator with him. He presses the button for the floor and then leans against the wall, arms outstretched on the handrail, and gives you an explanation.

“A cleft is a gap or split occurring in the roof of the mouth, upper lip, or both. It is due to improper joining of the tissue during fetal development. There are no definitive known causes as of right now, but it’s believed that the environment and genetics can play a role.

The hospital has its own craniofacial team, but I was asked to join this particular case given its more complicated nature. Hanna became one of the first patients I treated when I came to Columbia,” Doctor Cullen finishes fondly, a smile gracing his lips.

“What makes this case complicated?” you ask.

“Hanna was born with a bilateral complete cleft lip and palate, meaning her lip cleft is two-sided and continues into her nose. It took quite a few surgeries to repair the lip, but now the next step is to repair the palate.”

The elevator reaches the floor and dings. You follow Doctor Cullen out and continue prodding him with more questions, which he is more than eager to answer. It’s incredible how knowledgeable he is. Granted, it is his job to know these things, but you couldn’t begin to imagine yourself being able to even scratch the surface of these topics, not to mention give a mini lecture on it.

You’re soon standing at the door to a patient room while the doctor asks Hanna’s parents if you can observe. They readily agree, and Doctor Cullen motions for you to come in.

Inside the room, you see an infant that can’t be more than a year old – Hanna. She’s sitting upright on the bed, leaning against who you assume to be her father. You notice two fading scars going up into her nose above her lip. Her mother is waving a stuffed toy around her, but Hanna’s attention is fixated on the blonde doctor.

“Y/N, allow me to introduce you to Hanna’s parents, Anthony and Linh Pham. And this is Doctor Giselle Adamou, who will be working with me on the surgery,” Doctor Cullen gestures to the older doctor in the room.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you say politely.

Pre-op goes differently than what you’ve gotten used to observing this week. There is no case presenting given the lack of residents on the case. If anything, this is what you would expect out of a non-teaching hospital.

Doctor Cullen re-explains the procedures to Hanna’s parents, but halfway through, Hanna crawls to the end of the bed where Doctor Cullen is and attempts to stand, arms outstretched as if to say, “Up! Up!” Bewilderment is not a word you would have associated with him, and yet you catch the brief widening of his eyes that betray his usually calm demeanor.

“I think she wants you to hold her,” Linh comments.

“I can see,” Doctor Cullen muses. “Do you mind?”

“She’s all yours.” Linh picks her daughter up from the bed and hands her to the doctor. The sound of Hanna’s elated laughter fills the room, and you can’t stop a small smile from appearing on your own face. A cute baby and a gorgeous doctor? You don’t know who to thank for the sight.

Meanwhile, Hanna starts playing with various pens in Doctor Cullen’s breast pocket while Doctor Adamou continues where her colleague left off. You try to pay attention, you really do. Like Hanna though, your attention lies on someone else, and that someone else happens to be Doctor Cullen.

The more you study him, the more the minute features you never noticed about him before seem to pop out to you. Under the bright fluorescent lighting of the hospital, the dark purple circles under his eyes are more apparent than ever. How ironic for the preacher of health to lack sleep himself. His eyes, which you normally consider to be a vivid golden, are darker than you initially thought them to be. They are liquid pools of dark amber, speckled with dustings of gold and flecks of black. There isn’t a single blemish on his face that you can see either, further confirming your belief that this man is truly the most attractive person you have ever met. Either that or he must have one hell of a skincare routine.

It’s unnerving how young his appearance is. Skincare and diet can only do so much for a person, right? Doctor Cullen has to be at least 35 at the minimum, yet he could easily pass off as someone from your own school.

“Any last minute questions?” you hear Doctor Adamou ask and snap back into reality. By missing nearly everything the older doctor talked about, you already know you’ll be so screwed if and when Doctor Cullen decides to interrogate you on this case.

Neither parent has anything left to say, so Doctor Cullen gives a reluctant Hanna back to her mother. She lets out a cry and his expression softens.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll miss you too, but I need to get ready for your big surgery, okay? I promise you’ll see me again in a few hours.” His soothing voice does wonders for her. In an instant, Hanna quiets down and her frown is replaced with giggles and smiles again. She waves the two of you off, and you both take your leave with Doctor Adamou trailing behind you. You’re not even halfway out the door yet when Doctor Cullen starts testing your knowledge again.

“Y/N, what procedure will we be doing to repair Hanna’s cleft?”

You do not have this one in the bag whatsoever. You wrack your brain for information that could help you, but Doctor Adamou interjects before you get a chance to say anything.

“Why does it not surprise me that you’re treating students like interns already, Carlisle?”

“I am merely advancing the education of next generation’s doctors,” he responds.

“Whatever you say,” she laughs. “Don’t scare off Y/N though, or we won’t have any doctors left in the next generation.” She turns to you after picking up files from a nearby counter and says, “You come running to me if he pushes you too hard, alright?”

You grin. “For sure.”

“Good. I look forward to seeing you both in the OR,” she says before heading off.

You like Doctor Adamou. Each surgeon you’ve met here so far has had such different personalities, yet each also has the charisma and confidence to take control of a room and command respect. You, on the other hand, could barely get your own friends to listen to your own words. How are you ever going to get on the level of all the amazing doctors around you?

“She saved you there,” Doctor Cullen comments, leafing through Hanna’s charts as he walks you into an empty elevator to the operating floor. Oops, it’s just your luck that he noticed your lack of attention during the pre-op. “It’s unlike you to be distracted. Penny for your thoughts?”

The elevator doors shut, and he looks up from the chart, his eyes falling onto yours. He has that twinkle in his eyes again – the one that brings warmth to your cheeks and could make anyone weak in their knees. You know it’s silly, but a single look from him could make you spill any of your deepest and darkest secrets, yet a part of you also knows that he would keep it. You’re not naïve – you know it’s dangerous to put so much faith into a man you only met this week – but there’s something about him that told your instincts to trust him from the very beginning.

Call it intuition, or maybe it’s just plain stupidity, but you sure as hell aren’t going to tell him about how you got distracted because of his pretty face.

You hesitate for a moment and let out a sigh. “How do you do it?” He quirks a brow, momentarily perplexed, and you attempt to find the right words. “How do you make all of this look so easy? How do you know what the right thing to say is? Or trust that what you’re doing is even right? How did you know if this was all meant for you? This is really dumb, but it seems like everyone here was born for this job, and then there’s... me.”

There’s a slight sense of dread starting to form in your stomach. You’re unsure if what you asked even made any sort of sense and wonder if you gave too much away. Giving any reason to second guess your abilities is like digging your own grave when it comes to this career. Expressing uncertainty is one of the biggest taboos of the cutthroat world that is pre-med because schools would not accept students that aren’t absolutely, totally, and completely sure about this path.

You’ve wanted this for so long, yet there’s still a part of you that doubts if you would be enough.

Rather than going straight to gowning and scrubbing in for the surgery, Doctor Cullen grabs your hand and leads you down to an abandoned hallway, only letting go once the two of you are hidden in an alcove away from any prying ears or eyes.

“What are you doing? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for surgery?”

“We have a few minutes to spare. Y/N, please know that I understand how you feel,” he says softly. “There was a time when I questioned my own abilities as well… whether my perseverance could overcome adversity. It took quite some time to reach where I am today. However, without enduring those trials and tribulations, I would not be here. With time comes experience, and it is that experience that allows me to perform my job the best I can.”

His voice reminds you of a gentle breeze, rustling the leaves of a tree on a cool summer night when he continues speaking in hushed tones. It brings a blanket of reassurance, a sense that things would eventually be alright.

“I have said this before, but I see enormous potential in you. You still have a great deal of time to grow and develop your skills. It’s easy to get caught up in comparing yourself with others, especially given today’s societal standards, but I believe you are much more capable than you may think you are. Everyone’s journey is different and yours may not necessarily be as linear as you would prefer. In due time though, I have faith that you will succeed.”

What he says is exactly what you needed to hear.

The swell of tears pricks at your eyes and start blurring your vision, but you blink them away quickly, fighting the urge to wrap your arms around the doctor.

“Thank you, Doctor Cullen.” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“You’re very welcome. Now, I believe there’s a little girl waiting on us.”

XXX

Tag List - Message me to be added or removed to either this series or the rest of my fics!

@jelly-fishy-babie @notahappytree @anxiousgoldengirl

#carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen imagine #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagines #twilight renessaince #twilight saga #twilight reboot #twilight renaissance #doctor daddy cullen #you guys can't tell but this whole story was one large self-insert #i started writing this at the beginning of the pandemic #was in the midst of my junior year and about to apply to dental schools #basically got rejected from all 19 schools i applied to only for one to rescind their rejection and offer me a spot for next year's class #it's a school in new york too!!#what are the odds?#for anyone struggling out there or feeling like things aren't going the way you want them to - life has a way of working out eventually #twilight fanfic

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folkloreguk · 4 years

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French Class [1]

A/N: Hello friends I hope everyone is doing alright, I haven’t posted writing in ages but here I am finally! Enjoy! <3

words: 8.3 k

genre: smut, optional bias (male) x reader (female), college!AU, very lowkey enemies to lovers/friends???, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader

(H/N means “his name”)

✽series masterlist✽

[urban dictionary: In Germany, “She speaks French," is slang for "she sucks dick really good."]

“I’ve never seen you around here,” he had said.

“I usually prefer spending time with my textbooks rather than with people,” you had said, truthfully.

“So, you must be really smart then. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two,” he had said. His look had told you exactly what he was talking about. His look also told you that every girl he approached fell for him in an instant, and that he left them speechless just by smirking and smothering honey around their lips. He most certainly hadn’t noticed you until now, but you surely had been watching him flirt with everyone in sight. Girls dropped their eyelids and winked at him innocently, as if he was some kind of prince in shining armor. However, the way they treated him, as if they were auditioning to spend the night with him, made you believe he might just be really good in bed. And coincidentally, that was exactly what you were looking for. If you went out once in a while, you might as well make the most of it, right?

“I’m fluent in French, if that’s what you’re interested in,” you said calmly. He almost choked on his drink as he put the cup down on the kitchen counter. When he saw you copying his smirk from earlier, he must have realized he had no choice. You had won the audition.

Those were the exact events leading up to the situation you were currently in. On your knees, hands and lips wrapped around his dick, tears burning in your eyes. He was leaning against the closed door of his room, hands buried in your hair. His roommate wasn’t at home, but the walls of his dorm didn’t seem to be too thick either way. He didn’t seem to have a problem with his neighbors knowing what he got up to on a Saturday night. Groans and curse words kept falling from his mouth, whenever your tongue swirled around the tip of his member. Now and then it hit the back of your throat, but you were determined enough to keep going. When you looked up at him, he bit his lip almost as if he was in agony. Saliva was dripping down your chin but seeing him this way was too hot to stop just now.

“I’m so close, fuck-“ he moaned. Then you changed your mind. He hissed as you pulled away, wiped the saliva and pre-cum off your mouth and kissed your way up his chest.

“Are you sure you want to cum yet? If you return the favor, I’ll let you cum someplace else,” you whispered into his ear. You saw him swallow visibly at your words and he nodded, pulling you over to his bed. You saved him the work of having to take off your shirt and bra, before you fell onto your back on the mattress. He hovered over you for a moment, pulled his shirt over his head and then bent down to kiss you. You hadn’t really made out for a long time before you had decided to drop to your knees in front of him, but you had to admit now, he was a really good kisser. Had you not been so needy, you could have kept making out with him for a while. But instead you whined against his lips and pulled his hair.

“What?” he teased you. “Not so mouthy now, are we?”

“Hurry up and touch me,” you said. “Please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he grinned. When you looked at his smile, you realized again why girls would go crazy over him. And he was as talented with his lips as he was good-looking. His teeth grazed over your nipples and he squeezed your hips while you squirmed underneath him, only wanting more. The way he sucked on your skin let you know you would have some marks to hide the next day. You almost felt dizzy at how his hot breath fanned over the skin on your lower stomach. Eagerly, you looked at him.

“You weren’t this impatient when you were sucking me off five minutes ago,” he said. You were one hundred percent sure he was taking extra long when he took off your pants and underwear.

“I just didn’t show it then,” you admitted. He chuckled at your honest words. Then, he slid one of his fingers along your folds, collecting your wetness. He cursed when he noticed just how much you wanted him by now. Before you could form any words, he dropped his head, his tongue following the path his finger had just taken. Your body shuddered when his hot muscle touched your clit and you moaned in relief. And still, you had to admit just how skilled he was. By the way he flicked his tongue over your center and watched and listened to your reactions, he had figured out your sweet spot in no time. You grabbed the blanket you were lying on, head hanging back and eyes closed in bliss. Slowly, he pushed his middle finger past your entrance. Instantly, you sucked in a breath, as he curled it against your walls in an agonizingly slow rhythm. For a moment, you noticed the noise of the party that was going on outside of the room. It felt as if it was miles away, and not just on the other side of the wall.

“More,” you whimpered, and you could practically feel him smirk against your center. When he added another finger, he also sped up the pace, making you see small stars dancing behind your eyelids. He alternated between drawing random figure eights and sucking on your clit, the change in intensity keeping you right on the edge the entire time.

“You’re so good at this, fuck,” you moaned.

“You’re welcome,” he muttered against your skin and you only wanted him more than before. His hands were holding your thighs, lips glued against your center with his tongue pressed onto your clit harshly. And still, you wanted even more.

“Fuck me,” you whimpered through moans. “Please.”

As much as you hated when he pulled away from you, if in exchange you could get something even better, you’d deal with it.

“Please?” he mocked you, as he made his way back to your face by leaving open mouthed kisses on your body. “You’re so cute.”

Swiftly, he reached over to the nightstand, picking up a condom.

“Then I hope you’re into cute girls,” you said as you watched him put it on. He grinned famously when he hovered on top of you. One of your hands reached down to guide his length to your entrance.

“They cute ones are my favorites,” he said cockily. But the moment he had entered you, his smirk changed into a different expression. A groan fell from his lips and he clenched his jaws tightly. He wasted no time in picking up the pace quickly, as the only words forming in your head were curses. His hips snapped against yours roughly while he grabbed your sides tightly, almost as if he wanted to pull you even closer to him.

“You feel so fucking good-“ you said, or rather moaned, your toes curling at the amount of pleasure you were experiencing.

“Yeah? I’ll make you feel even better,” he said. Lazily, he picked up one of your legs, pushing your thigh towards your stomach. The angle only made everything feel much more intense, and you whimpered at the sudden change. Again, you cursed as you felt your orgasm approach quickly.

“Am I being too rough?” he asked, biting his lip as he slowed down for a moment. You almost laughed.

“No way,” you said, and he grinned for a moment. From then on, he only fucked you faster and every time he buried his member deeply inside of you, you could only whimper at how good he felt. It was as if he was making sure you didn’t need to regret coming to this party for one second. When you told him how close you were to coming, he seemed to only take it as an invite to completely let go of all control. You wouldn’t be at all surprised if you were struggling to walk normally the next day. You closed your eyes tightly, chasing only one feeling. When you finally fell over the edge, your legs tightened around his hips and your moans became high-pitched. He kept going while your back arched off the mattress and you slowly rode out your orgasm. Not wanting you to feel overly sensitive, he pulled out, stroking himself quickly. You could tell he was just as close judging by the way his mouth hung open and his eyelids seemed to get heavy. You swatted his hand away, doing the job for him instead. He only groaned louder at your touch, and only a few seconds later you felt him twitch in your hands as he came. He looked even hotter now, fucked out and small moans coming from his lips. For a while you helped him come down from his high, feeling the aftereffect of your own orgasm. Tiredness overcame you, but there was no way you were spending the night. You had sworn to yourself, you would enjoy tonight but the next day you would get back to your textbooks.

“I hope we can do this again some time,” he smirked. Even though you could have told him he won’t be seeing you at a party any time soon, you agreed.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you smiled, while you looked around for your clothes. You weren’t lying, but maybe giving him empty hope, nonetheless.

When you left, the party was less crowded. You made your way through the dorm building and then took the shortest way across the college campus to your own dorms. When you arrived in your room, your roommate was still up. Tonight, you had switched roles. Usually, she was the one stumbling home half-drunk from parties every weekend while you buried your head in your notes. But she had a test to study for and had procrastinated for way too long. So, you had scolded her for not studying when she was supposed to. In return, she had complained how you never went out, and she had convinced you that she would stay behind and study if in exchange you went out and got some.

“Ugh!” she groaned when you walked in. “Please tell me you at least had a good time, because it feels like I’m dying here.”

“Oh, I had a gracious time,” you sang happily. Only now you realized, you didn’t even know the guy’s name. You already knew your roommate was going to make fun of you for it.

“I’m done for tonight,” she decided, and you rolled your eyes. “Give me some juicy details.”

“You know I don’t kiss and tell,” you said.

“Y/N, come on! At least tell me what he looked like!”

So, you explained him in great detail. The way he looked, but also his ability to make girls basically crawl after him, and his smirk you had grown familiar to in such a short while. With every detail you added, her eyes seemed to widen. Suddenly, she stopped you mid-sentence.

“Wait. Is his name H/N?”

“Honestly, I didn’t ask for it,” you said and laughed at yourself before she could.

“You are insane,” she laughed. “But this is serious. I’m like 99% sure you’re describing H/N.”

“So, what about him?” you asked.

“What about him? He’s only the most popular guy ever? And in my opinion, also one of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen. Apparently, he never hooks up with the same girl twice.”

“Well, he wasn’t ugly, I can tell you that,” you said, not really caring about his reputation. “And with me, he won’t even get the chance to. I’m not going to a party again soon. I’ve got exams coming up.”

“And here I was thinking you had fun,” she laughed. You only laughed and waved her off, getting ready to go to sleep.

But as much as you had planned how you would have forgotten about him within days, you didn’t. And it didn’t exactly help that he suddenly popped up in random places, wherever you went. It was like those times you learned a new word in a foreign language and suddenly noticed it everywhere. You’d see him walking across campus, at the café near the lecture halls, and in the buildings of your university. You never talked to him, but your friend always made sure you noticed him, by shaking your shoulder. Sometimes you thought she was more shocked to see him than you were.

But one, then two weeks went by and you found it easier to cut him off your mind. You spent more time studying, but still making sure you took breaks by going places with your roommate and binge watching your favorite tv shows in the evenings. Everything had gone back to normal in your head. Until that one day. You had just taken a shower and were about to jump into bed, when your roommate burst open the door.

“You’re back from the party? Already?” you asked.

“I’m here to pick you up,” she said. “You’re coming with me to this party.”

“I’m sorry what? I’m going to sleep, not to a party.”

“Y/N!” she almost yelled. “He asked for you!”

“Who?” you asked, and as if on cue, you yawned.

“H/N!” she raised her voice, but then seemed to realize what time it was. “I thought he was going to flirt with me, and no offense I’m happy for you, but if you don’t come with me, you’re ungrateful.”

You laughed.

“Because I’m not jumping at the chance to get with him? Who does he think he is? God?” you asked. “Like I said, I’m going to bed. Go back and take your chances with him, if you want him so badly.”

Your friend couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had fun when you had hooked up with him. And some nights you thought of him. Of his hands, his overly-confident smirk and his honey voice. But right now, you only knew how tired you were. So, you sent your friend back to the party, while you caught up on sleep.

From that night on, your encounters with him had changed. Previously, you had noticed him catching a glimpse at you. Now all he did was search for your eyes. When you did look back at him, he stared at you, as if he would somehow be able to draw you in just with a look. You then gave him a polite smile, and his look changed into confusion. One time, he even winked at you, but you weren’t going to play this game. There was no way you would obsess over a guy who only looked at you because you had let him touch you once. You had an exam coming up and living at the library for the next two weeks would be your main priority.

But little did you know, not even at the library you were safe from fuckboys. You had sat down and worked for five minutes until you noticed H/N sit only two tables away from you. When he gave you his famous smirk you only nodded and buried your head deeper in your books. It was almost like a challenge, seeing how long you could study without getting distracted. And you were so determined, you barely noticed the sun setting outside. When a quiet voice over the speakers announced that the library would be closing soon, you snapped out of your thoughts. When you packed up your things, you granted him one more look, before you left.

The walk to the dorm wasn’t a long one. You shivered slightly at the cooler night air, so you fastened your steps.

“Are you trying to outrun me?” a voice suddenly spoke behind you. You rolled your eyes.

“Did you need something?” you asked H/N, who was now catching up to you. His hair was disheveled, and he looked just as tired as you felt.

“Is this how you treat every guy you’ve hooked up with?” he asked.

“How do you expect me to treat you? We’re not friends…I didn’t even know your name until after my roommate told me,” you said.

“Okay, fair enough,” he said. “But what isn’t can be.”

The way he smirked made you let out air in a short laugh.

“And then, let me guess…when we’ve been friends for a few days you try to hook up with me again,” you said. “Why else would you want to be friends with me? You know nothing about me except what my hands and mouth feel like.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, you’re right. But it wasn’t just that. You were…interesting.”

“Because I flirted back at you?” you laughed. “Are you not used to it? Look, if you want to find out if I’m really all that interesting, try to get to know me.”

“Deal. Then let me.”

“Alright. And you’ll let me know if I’m really that interesting,” you said. You seriously wondered if fuckboys and nerdy girls would ever have a chance to be friends outside of some American chick-flick.

“And what if I think you are? Will you hook up with me again?”

“Are you serious?” you complained, and he laughed.

“I’m joking,” he said, while you gave him the side eye. You were pretty damn sure he wasn’t, but you weren’t in the mood to argue further.

“So, when are we hanging out? You coming to the party tomorrow?” he asked.

“Woah calm down there. I’ll be at the library if you wanna hang out,” you said.

“The library? I can’t even talk to you there!”

“But we can talk on the way home and there,” you said, teasing him just because it was fun. You had arrived at your dorm.

“Will you at least give me your number?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. “Friends have each other’s phone numbers!”

“I guess you’re right. But don’t text me a billion times a day.” you said, watching him fish for his phone in his pocket. He grinned in triumph. You couldn’t help but think he was cute with the way he smiled while you typed your number into his phone.

“Goodnight, H/N,” you said.

Goodnight,…” he said, giving you a questioning look.

“I’m Y/N,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Y/N…I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, and you shook your head slightly in amusement.

But the next day you realized he had not been exaggerating. Two minutes after you had sat down at the desk in the library, he walked up to the empty space across from you.

“Hey, I knew I’d find you here,” he said. You put one finger up to your lips but couldn’t help but grin. He looked handsome, in a black leather jacket and with his hair hanging in his face a little. He gave you a questioning expression, but you kept quiet and mouthed “we can talk after”. And for a few minutes, he actually seemed to have accepted his fate as your silent study buddy. Then, you noticed him pulling out his phone. Never had you regretted giving someone your number more than at this moment. He typed something on his screen, expressionless. A few seconds later, your phone vibrated in your pocket.

Him: So, do you come here often?

You: HAHA..don’t fuckboys have other things to do than to stalk nerds at the library?

H: Is that what you think I am?

Y: Is that not what you are?

H: I wouldn’t define myself as one

Y: google defines a fuckboy as a man who has many casual sexual partners…

H: …

Y: urban dictionary has an even better definition OMG

H: okay maybe I am one? do you have a problem with that

Y: I never said so…I just wanted you to admit it

H: what are you studying for?

Y: let’s discuss this afterwards

You saw him continuing to write, realizing he wasn’t going to do as you said. Determined to get some studying done after all, you turned off your phone and showed him the black screen. He looked annoyed, but it was him who wanted to get to know you, so he had to accept it. An hour went by and he really seemed to get lost in his textbook. When you finally decided it was time to pack up, he followed you.

“I must say, I’m impressed. You actually studied,” you said, walking next to him towards your dorm.

“Trust me, I’m even more surprised than you are,” he said, and you laughed. So, you finally told him about your exam and the subjects you were studying. And to your surprise, he paid attention and even kept the flirting to a minimum. And you had to admit, when he wasn’t making obnoxious advances towards you, he was actually pretty funny and you found yourself actually enjoying his company. After you had entered your dorm you watched him walk off in the direction of his home. You debated whether you should give him the satisfaction, but in the end you thought your compliment might make him realize flirting isn’t always the way to go about things.

So, right before you went to bed, you sent him one last message:

Y/N: I think you’re actually really fun (when you cut out the flirting)

In the morning, you woke up to his text.

H/N: Now you’re the one flirting with me 😉

You almost sent him the vomiting emoji, but then decided to simply confront him when you saw him that day. More or less coincidentally, you ran into him on your way to the library.

“I think you and I have very different perceptions of what flirting is,” you greeted him by bumping your shoulder against his. He gave you his million-dollar smirk.

“Maybe…which is convenient, because I for once didn’t mean the winking emoji in a flirty way,” he said, “And you can’t be mad at me because that’s my opinion.”

You pushed him jokingly, knowing his fake serious face was just him lying under his breath.

“I’m serious, just cut the flirting out,” you said. “Is that such a challenge for you?”

“I’ll try my best,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes. But as the week went on, and you met almost every day, he really did seem to try hard to act normal. You realized it was probably genuinely hard for him to stop flirting. Fuckboys simply had that in their blood. But he seemed to like your challenge. You talked about your hobbies, your favorite movies, your childhood memories and the best ice cream flavor at your local ice cream parlor. And soon, going to study at the library turned into your favorite time of the day.

One evening, you were walking home once again, your shoulders touching now and then from how close you were walking. But it wasn’t as intimate as it should have felt. He had become a genuine friend to you, and you could barely believe the way your perception of him had changed over the course of three weeks.

“I aced my exam yesterday because of you,” he said, grinning.

“That’s great!” you congratulated him. “But in the end, it was you who studied and wrote it, so I’m not sure how much credit I deserve for that.”

“Without you I would have studied a tenth of what I actually did,” he said. Then, you suddenly realized something.

“Wait? Did you study for another exam today?” you asked.

“No, I just wanted to hang out with you.”

You laughed and he looked puzzled.

“My exam was three days ago! I had nothing to study for either,” you said. He finally realized.

“So, we were sitting and studying just to keep each other’s company for three hours, when we could have done something else for once? Are you kidding me?” he laughed. His laugh was familiar to you now, and when a few weeks ago you would have rolled your eyes at the way he grabbed your shoulder when he laughed, you now experienced a warm feeling at the sound and his touch. It wasn’t romantic, but you genuinely believed you might have managed to make friends with a fuckboy. Props to you.

“You know, now that we’re not stressing over exams, or rather, now that you’re not stressing over exams, because I never did either way…do you wanna hang out at my place for a while?” he asked, smirking. This time you did roll your eyes.

“No sex,” you said.

“I didn’t even hint at that!” he said. “Can a guy not hang out with his lady friend on a lovely Thursday night?”

You laughed at his dramatic gestures and in the process decided to go with him. Truth was, you really did enjoy his company, and frankly you were getting tired of only seeing him at the library.

“Alright, let’s go,” you laughed.

A weird rush of memories came over you when you stepped into his home. The only other time you had been there, your hands had been glued to each other’s bodies and your lips touched places of his you hadn’t thought about in a while. Your opinion of him had undergone a 180° flip since then. Or so you had thought, because suddenly everything reminded you of how good the sex with him had been. The door he had been leaning against while you had his dick in your mouth reminded you of his moans, and how his hands had tugged on your hair so nicely. Your skin tingled and you remembered the hickeys you had tried to cover up without success the following day. And to make matters worse, you realized he was wearing the same shirt he had worn to the party back then. You felt instantly embarrassed to remember such a detail. Get it together, you urged yourself inwardly. He’s your friend now, and friends don’t think such things about each other.

You greeted his roommate, who raised his eyebrows when H/N introduced you as his friend.

“What are you playing?” you asked, referring to his roommate, who was holding a console controller. You gave H/N a look, as if to ask how he felt about joining his roommate in playing video games.

“We can play, but just know that you’re signing up for losing to me…over and over and over…” he said, whilst nudging your shoulder three times. You hated how handsome he looked while he said that.

“I sense someone has a superiority complex,” you replied, confidently grabbing one of the controllers. “Time to change that.”

H/N’s roommate only laughed and handed him the other controller. “I think I like your new friend.”

~~~

“I told you, you were done for,” H/N still reminisced, as he walked you back to your dorm that night.

“I counted, and you won 5 times. I won 4 times. It’s not that deep,” you said to your defense. “And I did that without any practice while you probably know this game front to back.”

“A close win is still a win,” he teased, putting his arm around your shoulder playfully.

“I’m surprised how little you care about grades with how competitive you are in every other aspect,” you teased him back.

“Who knows, maybe I’ll become a nerd under your influence,” he said. You had almost arrived at your dorm now as you chuckled.

“And I was about to ask you if you would be at the party tomorrow. Are we switching roles now?” you joked.

“What kind of question is that,” he said, making it sound more like a statement than a question. “Of course I’ll be there. Does that mean you’re going too?”

You nodded and grinned. You had been excited for the party, but knowing he will be there, you could barely wait now. From the moment he hugged you goodbye, to the moment you left your dorm to go to the party the next day, you practically counted the hours.

~~~

You arrived at the house party with your roommate, but she was gone quickly after she had spotted her crush. You had told her to go for it and were now watching in amusement as she talked to him shyly across the room. The cold of the marble kitchen counter made its way through your dress as you leaned against it. This was the spot you had first met him. Speaking of the devil. His eyes met yours the moment he walked into the room. His smirk was prominent while he walked up to you and then looked at you, as if waiting for you to speak first.

“As you said, we’re switching fuckboy and nerd roles now, so shouldn’t you be the one to chat me up this time?” he finally broke the silence.

“Chat you up? So we’d end up in your bed together again? We said that wasn’t going to happen, remember?” you said.

“For someone who apparently doesn’t want to hook up with me, you bring up us having sex quite often,” he stated. Then he bent his head, so his mouth was right at your ear. “It’s almost like you’re the one struggling not to want me now.”

You felt upset at his words. But not because it was typical for fuckboys to assume that every girl wanted them – you knew that all along – no, you were angry at yourself because he was completely right.

“I wouldn’t blame you,” he said, before you could even form a coherent thought. “It’s not like I ever really stopped wanting you. How could I ever ignore how hot you are?”

He really had no filter at this point. Had he been any guy you had just met – you would have laughed and brushed him off. But it was your friend, who was not only funny but who you also thought to be equally as hot as he had just called you. And somehow, his boldness caught on to you.

“You must really have a thing for French accents,” you said, referring to your first conversation. “If you keep wanting me over everybody else.”

He laughed a little, but then went serious again. “You would be right. I haven’t stopped thinking about how flawless your French is.”

His hands were touching your sides now, setting off a shiver that went through your entire body at the simple sensation. You felt his body heat radiate towards you because of how close he was standing by now. On instinct, your eyes danced from his eyes to his lips and back. Frankly, you had no problem if he decided to kiss you in the middle of this party. But you knew where this was going. You knew, the moment he put his lips on yours, you would only want more. And those kind of things you wanted him to do to you, they most certainly weren’t socially acceptable to do in public. So you moved your face even closer to him and spoke.

“Then what are we still doing here?”

He instantly grinned and understood. You had never spent such a short while at a party before. But you had no problem with leaving when he was the main reason you had gone there in the first place. Your friend gave you a suspicious smirk as you passed her in the hallway, making you chuckle and inwardly wish her good luck with her crush again.

You were halfway at his dorm when he put his arm around your waist.

“Can’t we just make out somewhere against a house wall or something? I think I’m going crazy,” he said.

“There’s no way I’m becoming the next gossip topic on campus,” you said, pulling him after you as you fastened your steps.

“That’s only if someone saw us…” he argued, “And they’d be talking about me too.”

“Honey you’re already everyone’s favorite conversational topic,” you said.

“I am?” he asked, smirking. You were finally approaching his dorm building. “Does that mean you talk about me when I’m not there?”

“I like to keep to myself,” you said. He was unlocking the front door and you followed him inside, approaching his and his roommate’s room. “But my friend never shuts up about you.”

“Well you’ll have one hell of a story to tell her tomorrow,” he smirked, completely aware of how well-known he was at this university. His keys jingled in his hands as he inserted them into the lock. Your hands tingled in impatience. Finally, you stepped inside and waited for him to close the door behind you.

“Or you could keep it to yourself,” he then said, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against his body. “We can make this our little secret. Since friends don’t do these kind of things, do they?”

You couldn’t wait any longer. Your mouth crashed against his in a heated kiss, wasting no time to lick over his bottom lip. He groaned into your mouth, his hands on your body seeming as hungry as his tongue was. You hadn’t even bothered to turn on the light, so now you both stumbled into the room, which was only dimly lit by the streetlights outside. Within seconds his hair was completely disheveled by how your hands grabbed locks of it, and you impatiently tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Swiftly, he pulled away for a moment to pull it over his head. You were going to kiss his neck, but instead he quickly lifted you to sit you on the table behind you. Right away, your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. A small moan slipped past your lips when his hands pushed your dress up your thighs. His fingers reached dangerously close to your center, but never came quite close enough. His skin was soft when you kissed his collarbones, sucking purple marks as if painting on an unused canvas. Your quiet moans turned into more impatient sighs and whimpers because he didn’t seem to move his hands far enough up your thighs.

“I missed that noise,” he said. “You know what else I missed?”

You looked up from where you had been kissing his neck, giving him a questioning gaze.

“I wanna taste you again,” he said, kissing you deeply. You sighed against his lips, your legs automatically spreading wider. Already you felt a wetness pooling between your thighs, only upon hearing him say those words. Your dress had fully ridden up to your hips by now, and his fingers were hooked into the sides of your underwear, lazily playing with the material. His lips moved to your neck, leaving soft kisses and small bites here and there, while you arched your back against his chest, the desire in the pit of your stomach creating a pleasurable twist.

You still had your dress on, so his kisses stopped by your neckline, before he slowly pushed your waist towards the table. You were quick to react. Leaning backwards, you spread your legs wider so he could settle between them. He made you take in a sharp breath when he pushed the material of your underwear to the side. One of his fingers slid between your wet folds. The touch was so small, yet you wanted him so badly that any touch, no matter how little it might have seemed, made you feel like falling over the edge.

And of course, he had to comment on your reaction.

“You sound like someone who has a lot of pent-up sexual frustration, sweetheart,” he teased. “Why could that be?”

“Shut up,” you said through gritted teeth - right before you moaned again, as he slipped his finger inside of you, your juices coating his digits to his knuckles.

“Could that be…,” he went on, now adding another finger. ”Because you tried to prove to yourself you didn’t want me when you really did?”

“Why don’t you use your pretty mouth for something more useful than trying to figure me out,” you said.

“Alright, alright,” he said, smirking at you. You watched intently as he finally pulled your now soaked panties off your legs. Before his lips could touch your center, his breath fanned against the skin of your thighs, your head already feeling dizzy. When his tongue did finally come in contact with your center, your eyes shut in pleasure. You whimpered his name, and in that moment you didn’t care how weak you sounded.

“Just for your information,” you said, and his head perked up again. “No, don’t stop, keep going.”

He did as you told, his head dipping between your legs, and within a moment your clit was between his lips, tongue playing with the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“I never said I didn’t want you again,” you said. “But I think us becoming friends instead of instantly hooking up again wasn’t a mistake.”

He chuckled against your center, the vibrations of his voice only adding to the arousal you felt throughout your whole body. Seemed like he wasn’t going to comment on your words, but his laugh sounded like he agreed. When he slowed down his licks for a short while, you impatiently wiggled against his mouth. His arms wrapped around your thighs, coming to lay on your stomach. When he now fastened his actions, teeth accidentally grazing over your clit, it only felt ten times more intense, and you realized now you had been holding your breath from how focused you had been on the feeling. Your heart was hammering against your ribcage like it was trapped inside. You had long surrendered to the uncontrolled noises that were leaving your mouth continuously.

He ate you out like a starved man, occasionally swapping his lips for his fingers. The way he rubbed your sweet spot so quickly, all whilst watching your every reaction had your eyes rolling back in pleasure. It was like a fire, consuming you from the inside, and all you wanted was to jump off the edge, into the cold water that would quench your thirst for relief. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, chasing the feeling.

“I’m so close, fuck-“ you moaned. In approval, he hummed against your core.

“Go ahead,” he mumbled, before he leaped at your clit again. Two of his fingers teasing your entrance only made you want more of him. But it wasn’t like you were planning on being done with him after this. Just when you thought your arms were giving out underneath you, the torrent of cold water washed over you. You saw stars, as your legs clenched around his head, straining against his hands trying to keep them apart. One of your hands buried in his hair. You said his name like you worshipped him, but maybe in that moment you did. The more he continued, the more your sensitivity made your legs shake, so you pulled on his locks gently, signaling him you had enough. For now, at least.

Your breathing slowed with time and your heartbeat gradually normalized. Still with a feeling of bliss, you straightened up. There was a proud grin playing on his face when his eyes met yours. You didn’t keep up the eye-contact for too long, until your gaze wandered down his bare stomach to the obvious bulge in his pants.

“Need help there?” you asked. You jumped off the table and put your hands on his chest. His smirk softened to a gentle smile before he kissed you again. You barely noticed, but you moved along with him, towards his room.

“Take off my dress,” you said, and almost without disconnecting your lips, he opened the zip on the back of it. You slipped the straps over your shoulders and let the material pool by your ankles.

“Let me take care of it for you,” you said, hands getting busy with the front of his pants. While you unzipped the material, your other hand palmed him through his pants. A clearly pent-up groan erupted from his throat. It seemed like impatience took him over, and he quickly pulled down his pants himself, throwing them into a corner. His hand took yours and you joined him on the soft mattress.

You thought about saying something sexy, but you figured he had probably waited long enough for this by now. So, after giving him one more look, making sure to blink your eyes at him extra-innocently, you settled between his legs and took him into your mouth. The moment your hot tongue swiped over the tip of his cock he sucked in air through gritted teeth. You used your saliva to coat his length and wrapped your hand around the base. The noises he made when you started bobbing your head steadily lit another small fire in the pit of your stomach. You used your hand to follow your lips’ motions. Your free hand reached next to him, taking his own hand into yours and guiding it to your hair, which had been falling into your face and bothering you. He understood instantly, using his other hand to push it to the back of your head in a makeshift ponytail.

“You’re the fucking best at this,” he moaned. He used his hands to support the rhythm in which your head moved, making sure not to push you too far. Knowing what it would do to him, you looked up at him. The view of you, looking so pretty with your lips wrapped around his dick as he held your hair back was enough for him to groan again, a string of curse words following. With the way he looked fucked out after only a short while of your actions, you felt yourself get more aroused again, your legs pressing together in anticipation.

With a pop your lips pulled away from him, your thumb running over his tip for a moment. With a few kisses here and there, you made your way up his stomach and chest, until you leveled with his head.

“I want you inside of me,” you whispered against his lips. His eyes were dark, and your breath hitched in your throat when he softly touched your lips.

“I’ve wanted to hear those words for so long,” he said. Then, he bent around, fetching a condom from the nightstand.

“How do you want me?” you asked, watching him roll on the condom.

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, so you gave him a quizzical look.

“How are you such a genius but this hot at the same time?” he asked, his look mirroring adoration. “It always seemed to me most girls think they need to choose between one of those two.”

“Well, I’m glad you know they don’t have to choose,” you said. “So, what’s it gonna be?”

“Can you get on all fours for me?” he asked. Another wave of desire washed over you with the way he looked you in the eyes so deeply as he said that. You smirked, finding a liking in his preferences. As he asked, you turned away from him, steadying yourself on your arms and knees.

The wait was the worst. While he took his time, grabbing the skin of your waist and ass, teasingly running his fingers over your dripping center, his touch gentle as a feather. You knew exactly he was doing this on purpose, just creating another situation he could tease you about later on. A whine escaped your lips as you pushed your ass backwards. You wanted more, and you wanted it now.

“Cute,” he said, one of his hands stroking over your bare back. You were about to tell him a snappy comment, when you felt the tip of his member run through your folds. Your sensitivity from your previous orgasm was long gone now, and you melted into his touch when he finally slid himself into you. You hummed in approval at his first few thrusts, which were deep, hitting a spot inside of you that made your eyes roll backwards in pleasure.

“Do you still like it rough?” he asked.

“I definitely don’t mind it,” you said, and a moment later whimpered, when he gripped your hips tightly and pulled you against him, his cock going even deeper. He pounded into you, and with every thrust moved you towards his body. The sound of your moans mixed with the slapping of his skin against yours, and you hoped you wouldn’t encounter any of his neighbors the next morning, because you didn’t exactly feel like having to explain these noises to them. He was cursing and saying your name – a sound you didn’t think you’d hear any time soon – making your head spin as you clenched around him. He groaned, his voice husky.

One of his hands found its way between your thighs, and you whimpered, your arms giving out underneath you. You remained on your knees, but now pushed your head into the pillows on the bed. Your moans were muffled against the mattress and you desperately grabbed fistfuls of the sheets. He was rolling your clit between his fingers all whist fucking you so good, you were willing to accept any soreness you might have felt the next day. And you knew you would – if not from how hard he was thrusting – surely his tight hold on you would still be apparent the next day. But you didn’t mind. In fact, the idea of having a visual reminder of what he was doing to you only turned you on more.

His thumb rubbed over your most sensitive spot and your legs shook for a moment, your walls clenching around him tightly.

“I’m so so close – fuck,” you said, your back arching, so you could be even nearer, and he could be deeper inside of you.

“Me too,” he agreed, and you noticed it too, by how his thrusts seemed less controlled and more impulsive with each passing moment. The knot in the pit of your stomach tightened, the more he touched you, and the longer you stayed focused on the sensation. You shut your eyes tightly, so you could chase the feeling, and it wasn’t long before you finally reached your high. It wasn’t long after you, that he followed, the way you closed your thighs around him only creating a more intense feeling for him. He bent over your back, pulling you even closer, as he rode out his orgasm, every last thrust making your legs shake a little bit from sensitivity.

When he finally pulled out, you were still breathing hard, barely able to open your eyes just yet. With a sigh, he plopped down next to you. You could feel the mattress shifting under his weight. Finally, you blinked slowly before looking at him. He was grinning with his arm covering his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, before he slowly lifted his arm.

“Of course,” you said, resting your chin on his chest for a moment. “Are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he laughed.

“Oh, I’m not allowed to ask you that?” you joked.

“I’m not the one who was crying into the mattress two minutes ago,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you. Playfully, you slapped him.

“I was not crying!” you argued.

“If you say so,” he grinned. You only rolled your eyes and put your head back down on his chest. His heart beat steadily under your ear and the motion of his chest rising and falling made you sleepier than you already were. For a while you lay there in silence. You wondered if your friend was still at the party, or if she was waiting for you to come home tonight. Probably not. But then, you didn’t even know if he was alright with you staying.

“Can I stay over?” you asked, not thinking twice. It wasn’t an emotionally motivated question, more of a question of practicability. Friends had sleepovers, right?

“Sure,” he hummed. “If we make this a regular thing.”

“I’m sorry?” you asked.

“You ever heard of friends with benefits?” he suggested. It was scientifically proven that sex could make people fall in love – even if they never officially went out together. And the last thing you needed right now was a distracting boyfriend. But you couldn’t help it. He felt like heaven, and who said you were actually going to fall for him? Maybe his determination, which seemed strong, would catch on to you and you would never even think about catching feelings.

“So we’ll just call each other up when we feel horny?” you asked.

“Exactly,” he said. “Although, since we’re also friends now, it’s not like we’re only gonna see each other for sex.”

“I’ll remind you of that when you try to get into my pants at the first chance you get after today,” you teased him. He only grinned.

“What can I do? You’re too hot for me to not at least try.”

“My friend said there was a rumor about you. It said that you only hooked up with the same girl once,” you remembered suddenly.

“Well, you have proof now…it’s a rumor,” he said, his grin mischievous. “Or maybe you’re just an exception. That’s for you to find out.”

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bunnysuit-femboy · 3 years

Text

The Worst Wingman - Dust and a Goddess

(Chapter 1 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: mentions of homophobia

Summary: Jean knew you better than anybody else, so why was he so good at picking the worst people on the planet for you to go on dates with. You were persistent to find a boyfriend this year and you thought Jean could help you find the perfect man, but apparently he loves to watch you suffer. If only you knew the perfect man for you was the one setting you up on all of these dates.

Notes: I posted this on my Ao3 first, but I thought I’d post it here too. So, please enjoy!

First Saturday

Another Saturday night meant another shitty date with another uninteresting and weird guy. You knew Jean hand-picked these dates that he sent you off with, but it seemed he didn’t know you or them at all. Every single date was just another bust, undeniably and irrefutably.

And, this date was just another on the already long list of bad dates.

“So,” Your date said with a smile, “You’re good friends with him, aren’t you?”

You nodded with the wine glass close to your lips. He had asked you the same question nearly fifteen times in the last fifteen minutes. It was as if he couldn’t believe it himself. As if he were surprised, or maybe even a little bit jealous.

“Yeah,” You said with a fake smile, “We’re in the same friend group. I met him freshman year, when I became close friends with Mikasa and she introduced us-”

“How is he?”

“Huh?”

The redhead smiled wide, “How is Eren? What’s he like as a friend?”

You raised your eyebrows and placed your glass back on the table, “Eren?”

The redhead nodded excitedly. He was nearly on the edge of his seat, leaning towards you like a child about to hear a war story from his grandfather. It was odd that the boy had gotten caught on the idea of Eren being friends with you when you had just explained how Jean was the one who set you up on the date.

“Eren is- um,” You looked around the small restaurant, trying to find inspiration for a way out of this conversation from the other diners, “He’s cool.”

The boy is physically upset about your discretion, “And?”

“And,” You involuntarily continued, “He’s- uh, he’s very nice. He-uh he helps me with my homework, and helps me study quite a bit.”

It was all a lie, but only partially. Sure, somebody in the friend group was really nice and helped you with homework and helped you study, but it wasn’t Eren. It was Armin who was the nice one, but you didn’t know Eren well enough not to switch the two names when talking with the boy in front of you.

“That’s awesome,” The redhead said with an admirational sigh, “I bet he’s super helpful. He’s definitely the type to not give up until you know everything, for sure.”

“Oh.” You grinned at your empty dinner plate. “For sure. He’s the best. He’s super dedicated, and he always makes the harder information easier for me to understand. He’ll word it in ways that he knows I’m more comfortable with.”

“I’ll have to join you two, sometime.”

You looked at the boy with furrowed eyebrows, “You want to join me and Eren while we study?”

Boy, is he going to be upset when he finds out Eren is actually an adorable blonde boy with big ocean eyes who’s not nearly as blatantly mean. Also, it’s a bit strange the redhead wants to go on a study date with you and somebody else. Isn’t he at this date for you? But, all he’s asked you about all night is Eren.

“Of course,” The boy said with a smile, “I would just love to see him again.”

You giggled lightly to yourself, “Do you want me to get his number for you?”

Though the comment was purely a joke, the boy didn’t flinch nor smile. He just stared at you with a look of defeat in his eyes and he almost looked angry. His eyes never left your face, his mind not finding an ounce of humor in your question.

His reaction caused your smile to quickly falter, “Do you actually have a crush on him?”

The redhead rose from his seat, “I have to use the bathroom.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Right now?”

“Yes,” The boy’s voice came out harsh, “Right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You watched as the boy walked off towards the bathroom. And, once he was out of earshot, you pulled your phone from your purse sitting on the back of the chair and phoned Jean.

The phone only rang once before the call was picked up. He spoke a half-assed greeting above the sound of yelling in the background. You knew he was with Connie and Sasha tonight and you knew they were playing video games from the noise coming from behind his voice.

“Don’t hey me,” You spat angrily through the phone, “This guy is insane, Jean, he’s fucking weird.”

Jean was now laughing, “How is he weird?”

“He keeps asking about Eren.” You took a quick peek at the male’s bathroom door. “He offered to go on a study date with me-”

“That’s nice of him.”

“-And Eren.”

“Oh,” Jean said, “That’s weird. Eren doesn’t even study with you, he’d have to be smarter than you to be of any help.”

“I may have lied to him.” You took a quick swig of wine from the glass and then turned back to the bathroom doors.

“Aw,” Jean said with a smirk, “Poor Floch.”

“Floch,” You said excitedly, nearly knocking the discarded fork from your plate, “That’s his name! I forgot it about two hours ago, but didn’t have the heart to ask him.”

Jean was uncontrollably laughing on the other side of the phone. It wasn’t like these types of calls were foriegn to him. You normally called Jean in the middle of a crisis, and most of your crises these days happened mid-date when the boy did something weird and left to go to the bathroom.

“You’re a horrible date,” Jean said between his giggles.

“It’s not a normal name.” You held the wine glass to your lips. “I wouldn’t have forgotten his name if it were Brian or Nick. It’s his mom’s fault I forgot his name.”

Jean smiled into the phone, “Now, you’re blaming his mom for your ignorance, how cruel.”

You couldn’t help but grin as well, “Also, I think he has a thing for Eren.”

“Really?” Jean takes a moment to remember something. “That actually makes a lot of sense. I met him through Eren because they were in the same chemistry class last semester. He seemed reluctant to go on the date with you until Eren told him he should, then he was all for it. I thought it was weird, but not weird enough to be concerning.”

“It’s not weird nor concerning,” You said sweetly, “He just has a crush and he doesn’t know how to deal with it, it’s endearing.”

“He’s actively homophobic.”

“What?” You peek at the bathrooms and notice nothing has changed. “You set me on a date with an active homophobe?”

Jean shrugged, “I didn’t think about it.”

You shook your head angrily, “After this date, I am coming straight to your apartment and I am giving you a piece of my mind, Jean Kirstein.”

“Oh no,” Jean said with a smile, “I’m really scared, she used my last name.”

“You should be really scared. I’m bringing my baseball bat and everything.”

You took another peek at the bathroom and then checked the timer on the call. Seven minutes and fourteen seconds was how long you had been on the phone with Jean and how long Floch had been in the bathroom. Sure, it could be reasonable, but you still got a weird feeling from the whole thing.

“‘You okay?” Jean asked endearingly once the silence between you two had settled.

“He’s coming back,” You lied, “I gotta’ go.”

“Okay, just-”

The call ended quickly with one press of your finger. You put your phone back in your purse and let the bag fall to the side of the chair. You looked around the beautiful restaurant and tapped your fingers impatiently against the clothed table.

You leaned to your side in order to get closer to the couple beside you. At the table sat two people: one with long brown hair and wide glasses dressed in a tux and the other with short dirty blonde hair also dressed in a tux.

“Hi,” You said to the brown haired person to your immediate right, “Could I ask a favor of either of you? It’ll only take a minute, I swear.”

The brown haired person smiled widely, “Of course!”

“My date, a redhead, went to the bathroom nearly twenty minutes ago, and I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom-”

“You want me to go?” The brown haired person’s eyes lit up with excitement. “I can go see if he’s still in there, or if he’s sick, or if he’s dead - God forbid, but how interesting, right?”

You nodded with a smile, “Yes, thank you, please. I’m sure he’s not dead, but I’m just worried.”

“Don’t worry until I come back with news.” The brown haired person stood up and left, heading towards the bathroom.

You watched the nice brown haired person go off towards the restrooms. You watched them weave around tables, even stopping now and then to peek over diners’ shoulders, looking at what they had decided to eat for the night. They were strange, but in an endearing way - something you weren’t entirely used to seeing on these dates.

“You know,” The blonde guy spoke up suddenly, snapping you back to reality, “They’ve done that a few times on our dates before, as well.”

“Hm?” You turned to the brown haired person’s date.

The blonde guy smiled, “My date, they get interested in something in the bathroom and don’t bother coming back out for half an hour. The first time is scary, but you’ll get used to their curious mind.”

You grinned weakly at the nice man, “Yeah, I have a feeling there won’t be anything to get used to because there won’t be another date.”

The blonde boy furrowed his eyebrows, “Oh?”

“He wasn’t the best date I’ve been on, nor the best person I’ve been on a date with.” You turned towards the bathroom in time to catch the blonde man’s date making their way back across the restaurant with a frown. “In fact, he’s the first date to ever crawl out of a bathroom window to get away from me.”

“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” The blonde man said with a worried glance at his date. You weren’t sure how you knew it, but you were entirely sure of the redhead’s escape.

“He’s gone, dear.” The brown haired person placed a gentle hand on your shoulder as they sat back in their seat. “The window was pried open, I assume he crawled out of it.”

You nodded with a fake smile, “Thank you, for checking. I can pay-”

You reached for your purse, but the brown haired person shook their head, “No, no. Don’t even try to pay me. In fact, let us pay for your meals, it’s the least we can do.”

You shook your head quickly, “No, I can pay for them, but thank you.”

“No, he left you high and dry and-”

“You’ve already done enough for me tonight.”

“-You don’t deserve to pay for a meal you didn’t even enjoy.”

While the brown haired person was distracting you with a back and forth battle of who would pay for what, the blonde man waved down a passing waiter. He mumbled something to the waiter, pointing at your table over his shoulder. The blonde man pushed a small plastic card into the waiter’s hand. The waiter nodded pityingly, running off quickly towards the hostess’s table at the entrance.

“No,” You said with another shake of your head, “You don’t have to pay for a taxi, I don’t need one-”

But, you did need one considering Floch was your ride here.

“No,” The brown haired person continued, “Let me pay for your wine. In fact, have our wine. It’s the least we can do.”

“No, I don’t need more wine-”

The waiter was back and the blonde man finally spoke up over the argument between you and his date. He held two slips of paper in his hand and looked at you both with a small smile.

“Hange,” He said to make his date stop debating with you, “It’s okay, she doesn’t need your insurance card. And, ma’am, don’t worry about the bill, it’s already been paid for, and you don’t owe me anything in return. I’ve been in your shoes before, and I wish somebody would have done this for me.”

“Sir,” You said quickly, “It’s really not that big of a deal-”

“Not anymore,” The blonde man said with a smile, “Next time you come to this restaurant, just bring somebody you trust. I promise, not everybody is as awful as that boy.”

You bit your lip to keep the newly created tears from falling. You couldn’t help the overload of emotions happening in your throat and eyes. You didn’t normally cry so easily in front of strangers, but these strangers were overly generous. And suddenly, you were remembering the last ten dates that all ended just as horribly. It seemed like nothing was working out in your favor anymore.

“Thank you,” You said with a large smile contradictory to the tears that now fell down your cheeks, “I-I don’t know where to find those not awful people, but I really hope I will someday.”

“Oh no!” Hange said as they quickly wrapped you in a tight hug. “Moblit, look, you broke her.”

Moblit giggled with a shake of his head, “I’m sorry I broke you, dear.”

You shook your head into Hange’s shoulder, accidentally wiping the tears on the shoulder of their black tux. You couldn’t express to Moblit how badly you wanted to find not awful people, and how badly you wanted a date that didn’t end horribly. It was just more complicated than that, and it seemed awful people were the only ones Jean could offer you dates with and the only ones he thought deserved dates with you. So, what did that say about how he viewed you as a person?

You spent a few minutes crying into Hange’s shoulder, mumbling incoherently about boys and school and your pot-smoking next door neighbors who are way too loud when they have sex. They listened to your tangent intently, nodding along, as if they could understand any of your words.

Once you had wiped the tears from your face and thanked the couple profusely some more, you made your way from the restaurant. You knew you could call a taxi to Jean’s apartment, but the weather was nice and his apartment wasn’t too far away. So, walking seemed like a convenient money-saving way of getting the whole date out of your mind.

You walked down the street of town, but once you got to campus, you slid the heels from your feet and into your hands. You walked across campus with your shoes balancing on your fingers like the morning after a horrible one-night stand.

Eventually you made it to Jean’s apartment building and found your way to his front door within a few minutes. You knocked on the wood with your heel and weren’t too surprised when the door opened almost immediately. Jean stood in the doorway, still shouting at the other two over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Jean said once he finally turned his attention to you, “How was the-” You swung the heel swiftly into his stomach, earning a surprised grunt from the boy.

“Don’t mention this date ever again.” You said the threatening words with a glint of anger to your voice, but your face was pressed into a sweet smile.

Jean nodded slowly, “Will you at least tell us what happened?”

You sighed, “Later, I’ll tell you, but I know Connie will bully me for it.”

Jean nodded some more, “Later?”

“The least you can do is let me stay the night.” You raised your eyebrows at the boy. “Since you made me go on the worst date of my life with a homophobic jerk.”

“Okay,” Jean said with a grin, “But only because you’re practically begging for me.”

You swung the heel into his stomach a second time, but he grabbed it before it could give any damage. You both looked intently at each other, your eyes glaring annoyedly and his eyes admiring the sight in front of him. This was exactly what you expected from him, this is exactly how he acts after these dates. He’s always the one to pick up and put back the broken pieces once the doll breaks, even if he’s the reason the doll fell in the first place.

Once you walked into the apartment, you left your shoes and purse by the door, right beside Jean’s shoes. You waved a quick hello to Connie and Sasha - who were too distracted shooting zombies to see you - as you walked past them in the living room and found your way straight to Jean’s room. You knew the apartment like the back of your hand, you had been here a million times.

You walked across the small room to your drawer that Jean keeps all of your clothes in for when you stay. You pulled it open and picked out a pair of cheetah print pajama shorts and an old t-shirt from an now irrelevant ex boyfriend. You threw the clothes on his bed, getting ready to change just when the door suddenly opened.

You turned to the door with tired eyes and furrowed eyebrows as Jean joined you in the room. He leaned against the now closed door, physically keeping the others from joining as well. He crossed his arms against his chest, taking in the sight of him - you in your satin black dress you wore on nearly every date.

“So,” Jean said finally, “What happened?”

You sighed, “He crawled through a window.”

Jean’s eyebrows furrowed, “He crawled through a window?”

“Yes, when he went to the bathroom and I called you. He crawled through a window to get away from me.” You looked anywhere around the room but the boy. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey,” Jean moved from the door, coming across the room to you, “Nothing’s wrong with you. Something’s wrong with him.” Jean held you at arm’s length, his hands on your shoulders. “Not only did he leave you, but he has a crush on Eren of all people. I’ve seen birds at the park who are more attractive than he is.”

You grinned sadly, “I bet people don’t crawl through windows to get away from Eren on dates.”

Jean ran his hand down the side of your head, “Eren doesn’t give them the chance, I don’t think he’s ever been on a date.”

“But, people would go on one with him.” You finally looked up at the boy in front of you, trying to keep the tears from spilling the second time today. “He’s not undateable. I’m undateable. I’ve scared guys away every Saturday night for the last two months.”

“You’re not undateable,” Jean said sternly, “You just haven’t found the right one. And, you won’t find the right one if you don’t keep going on these dates. Every horrible date means you’re one more Saturday closer to your soulmate.”

“And, what if I don’t have a soulmate? What if I’m damned to die alone?”

“Then, I’ll die with you.” Jean brought you in for a tight hug, your face snuggling into his firm chest. Jean whispered his words, mostly to himself, “I’d give up 200 soulmates if it only meant I could die with you.”

You closed your eyes against the soft fabric of Jean’s shirt. It was hard to trust his words when there seemed to be so many contradicting factors. Maybe tonight was a total bust, but next Saturday was a new day. You could try again next Saturday, and the Saturday after that, and the Saturday after that. And, every Saturday for the rest of your life until you found your soulmate, even if that seemed like a pointless mission.

You’d do it for both you and Jean, it was the least you could do.

First Sunday

You woke up in Jean’s bed with his body close to yours. It was a standard cuddling position for your friendship: face-to-face, his arms wrapped around your side, your arms cradled against your chest, and your legs intertwined. Despite the normalcy associated with the position, you still woke up with a dorky smile and butterflies floating around your stomach when you saw him sleeping in front of you.

Today was no exception.

You grinned ear to ear as you watched the peaceful rise and fall of Jean’s tanned chest under the thin fabric of his white t-shirt. You watched as his lips parted against the pressure of the pillow under his cheek, a small stream of spit rolling from the corner of his mouth and onto the fabric of the pillowcase below. Every Saturday night ended with tears and regrets, but every Sunday morning began with sweet dreams and a special sleepy boy.

You turned away from Jean, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. The only way to successfully grab the phone was to also pull yourself from Jean’s grasp and from between his legs. It was a horrible price to be paid, but it had to be paid nonetheless.

You checked your lock screen, reading over playful messages from your roommate asking about how good Floch was in bed - assuming you had stayed at his house since you hadn’t come home. And, a few confused messages from Eren asking you who Floch was, why he was texting him, and how he was connected to you.

You locked the phone and turned back to Jean. You were expecting the boy to still be napping peacefully, but he instead stared sleepily at you. Your face had been in a grimace from the mentions of your date last night, but Jean’s honey brown eyes quickly dissipated any negative feelings.

“Good morning,” You whispered, “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning,” Jean said as he shifted his head and wiped the spit from the corner of his mouth. He was hoping you hadn’t noticed the wetness and that you weren’t questioning the wiping motion he made at his cheek. “And I-”

You smiled, “From the drool spot on the pillowcase, I’ll have to assume you slept well.”

Jean’s cheeks turned rosy, you could see the physical embarrassment on his face. He wasn’t the type to accept humiliation so easily, he was always one to fight back. Just his humiliation isn’t enough, if he’s going down, he’s taking as many people he can take with him. So, you weren’t sure why you were surprised when he swiftly sat up, grabbed the pillow, and attempted to shove the wet spot into your face.

You yelped, rolled, and sprung from the bed only a second before the pillow could land on your cheek, right where it was heading. You were up on your feet quicker than you ever thought you could be, your body still feeling the aftereffects of sleep. You looked down at the boy in front of you, the pillow still tightly gripped in his hands and a mischievous smile smacked across his face.

“You little bastard,” You said with a shocked smile.

Jean smiled back, “I’m actually quite big.” The words were meant as a joke about his body’s size, but both of your dirty minds immediately jumped to the size of something else on his body. “In more ways than one.”

You shouted at the boy between the giggles escaping from your throat, “Jean! Seriously!”

Jean shrugged, laughing along at his own joke, “I’m sorry, I had to!”

“You didn’t have to do shit!” You made your way to the bedroom door. “I’m going home!”

“One bad joke and now you’re leaving.” Jean leaped from the bed, following you to the door. “At least let me make you breakfast first.”

You turned to him with an intrigued glint in your eyes, “Will you make me waffles?”

“Sure,” Jean said as he playfully shoved your shoulder, “I’ll make you waffles.”

“With chocolate chips?” He walked in front of you, leaving the room with you following behind him like a child.

“Yes, I can add chocolate chips.” Jean tried to hide the grin spreading across his cheeks. “Do you want bacon and sausage as well?”

“Shut up,” You said from behind his back, “You know that I don’t.”

His voice sounded sweet, “Yeah, I do know.”

You stood against the counter, only a foot away from where he stirred the waffle mix. You watched as he eyed the waffle box intently, then poured the four other ingredients into the bowl after the dry mix. He looked a bit confused as he moved the spoon around the bowl, as if he was deathly afraid of missing something but not wanting to give the impression that he’d be stupid enough to miss something.

You knew where the coffee was kept and how to work his coffee machine and while you waited for it to brew, you watched Jean with a weak smile across your face. He could feel your eyes on him. Jean tried to ignore the weight of your eyes, not wanting his cheeks to go red though his chest was already inflating from the action.

Jean spared a glance in your direction, only a few seconds before the coffee finished brewing with a loud splash. For those few seconds when both of your eyes were held on each other, time seemed to slow. You could read the admirational glint in his brown eyes and he could read the appreciative glint in your eyes. Before the moment could go much further, you turned away and grabbed the coffee pot and mugs.

You not only knew which coffee beans Jean preferred, but you also knew how he liked his coffee. You poured a little bit of his roommate’s creamer into his mug, and then the tiniest bit of sugar as well. After the coffee was finished, you handed him the mug with a quick smile.

Waffles eventually found themselves on plates and forks eventually found themselves in between fingers. You both ate breakfast against the kitchen counter, Jean leaning down farther than you had to. You moved your fork against the softness of the slightly underdone waffles - he didn’t know just how much batter was supposed to go into the waffle maker at once.

Jean suddenly spoke up by your side, “Are you free this Saturday?”

You turned to the boy, “I normally am. Who’s next?”

“I have a friend on the football team.” Jean ignored your initial grimace to the statement. “He’s nice and desperate, the way you like ‘em.”

You turned back to your waffle with a small pout, “Maybe I should give guys a break for a little.” Jean raised an eyebrow at you. “I’ll just become a nun and write off men altogether.”

“You can’t do that!”

Your head snapped back to Jean, “I can’t?”

“No,” Jean said, “You can’t.”

“And, why can’t I?”

“You just can’t.”

A thick silence had settled in the room, the only sound being the scraping of forks against the porcelain plates. You wondered why Jean was against you becoming a nun. You assumed it was because he was the type to fight persistently, so possibly the idea of giving up on something indefinitely was foreign and upsetting to him. You knew he indirectly reflected onto other people, yourself included.

After a few more moments of silence, Jean started walking away. You watched him as he moved across the living room, heading straight towards his bedroom. Right before the boy could get to the door, he turned to you with a single raised eyebrow and a cocky grin.

“Hey,” Jean said from across the room, “Do you wanna go to the bathroom before I do?”

You looked around the kitchen with a confused look on your face, as if the apartment could give you any clue as to what he was implying with his words. You didn’t have to use the bathroom, nor did you ever insinuate within the last twenty minutes that you did.

You tilted your head curiously, “Why would I need to go to the bathroom before you?”

Jean smiled at the idea of his next words, already proud of himself, “Just to make sure I can’t crawl out through the window.”

Jean laughed as you pretended to throw your fork across the spacious apartment. He was proud of his joke, and you had to admit that you weren’t as upset as you should have been. Last night, the idea of your date crawling through a window in order to get away from you was the worst thing that had ever happened. But with Jean, it was just a funny memory.

Jean came back to the kitchen after a few moments, still giggling lightly about his joke he made nearly two whole minutes ago. You ignored his cockiness by trying to fight the smile forming on your face.

Jean leaned towards you, wrapping a muscled arm around your shoulders. Being pressed against his body in this way made you now realize how he smelled. He smelled of a rich cologne of rose and mahogany. You hadn’t noticed the cologne before he left for the bathroom, but it could have very well slipped past you.

Jean spoke from above you, “I’m glad you aren’t still upset about last night.”

“I never said that.” You looked up at the boy, his arm still around you. “But, I am starting to see the humor in the situation.”

“Good,” Jean said with a smile, “It’s not nearly as bad as that guy who asked if his mom could join you for the date.”

You cringed at the thought, “And, I said yes.”

“And, the one who asked for a vial of your blood.”

You shrugged at the taller boy, “At least he asked, there was the one guy who stole my hair scrunchie without asking first. I think he used it so he could clone me.”

“Yeah.” Jean quickly remembered another awful date. “And, the one who gave you a yarn doll of yourself as a first date gift.”

You smiled widely, “I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that it was actually a Voodoo doll. I’m glad I accepted it before I told him no to a second date.”

Jean grinned down at you, only an inch or two from your face. It was hard not to smile when looking at the boy. He was beautiful and reminded you of an ancient sun god. From his tanned skin, to his lively brown eyes, and his deeply inviting smile. It was hard to look at Jean and not feel your heart skip a beat, especially when you were so close to him.

“They’re all funny stories now,” Jean said, “So, that’s good.”

You moved deeper into his arm, “Funny stories that I don’t need.”

“But, funny stories nonetheless.”

“Yeah,” You mumbled sarcastically, “Thanks to you.”

“Hey!” Jean was pulling you into a quick bear hug as you laughed against his chest. “I try to find the University’s best guys for you! They are truly the school’s finest.”

“Then, why do they all suck?”

He didn’t answer your question because he wasn’t sure he knew why. He didn’t know why he threw these horrible guys onto you, under the impression of them being good matches. But, in his defense, it was hard to find somebody of your quality.

You were a goddess amongst mortals and these men could never be enough for you. And, if these men were mortals compared to you, then Jean felt he wasn’t even a mortal. He was the dirt hiding in the crevices of somebody’s shoe, he was the dust somebody breathed in before they yawned. Jean felt he could never equal up to you, but maybe these other guys could get close. And, maybe - just maybe - if he helps you get a boyfriend, then he wouldn’t think about you being a goddess so much.

Next Chapter

#jean x reader #jean kirstein #eventual smut #wingman jean #aot #attack on titan #x reader #modern au #college au #f/m

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avuzwablog · 2 years

Text

22things I’ve learned at 22, As A kid that’s been through somethungsss.

I’ve been stuck in the spirit of post birthday reflection since the 30th and honestly think it’s because I needed to write this:

1. Music is everything. I already knew this but every year I’m reminded just how important it is to me.

Alfa Mists’ music carried me through the year

2. Cultivating a relationship with GOD literally saved my life. And like any relationship it requires devotion.

3. Your thoughts become You.

4. Being a black woman means constantly having to fight for your peace.

5. Money brings Peace. And it Also Takes Your Peace.

6. Allow yourself to change your mind, and never apologize for doing so.

7. Keeping your inner child alive will ground you in the simple pleasures of life.

8. My mom was right, like literally about everything, but mostly that I should wake up and immediately make my bed.

9. Associating your worthiness to your level of productivity can be very destructive and honestly, I’m still stuck in this mindset.

10. Writing your goals down is like making a vow to yourself.

11. Journaling by the ocean is the perfect cliché because it actually works.

12. Yes I’m impatient with a short temper🥴 blame it on spending 4years in a small town— -

13. Being a prisoner to the past will only result in repeating old mistakes.

14. Say it with me — IFHEWANTSTOHEWILL x

15. Hyper-independence is a result of broken trust.💁🏾‍♀️

16. I no longer aspire to be a strong independent black woman, because honestly, it’s exhausting. I prioritize comfort and convenience.

17. Ask for help even if it makes you feel stupid—- [Adopting this sooner would’ve saved me so much time]

18. Love will always find me, wherever I am.

19. All relationships are complex and truly require two committed individuals.

20. No one will ever truly feel nor comprehend your traumas, so give yourself more grace.

21. Love those that love you, wholeheartedly.

22. In conclusion calm down you’re only 22.

#south african #early twenties #alfa mist #black women

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katyamorrigan · 3 years

Text

‘A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat’ - Chp. 1!

Gang banner by @verdiris

A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat

A trunk of contraband items ends up in the hands of the Crows, but the item that piques their curiosity most is the large box labelled “MONOPOLY”. Kaz is out of the Slat for the time being, so of course they decide to play it. Was there ever a mission more likely to fail than six criminals with lethal skills and undeniable emotional ties all trying to build a make-believe empire without killing each other in the process? Answer: yes - all of the above while attempting to pull off a heist at the same time.

Turns out board games weren’t the only interesting items shipped into Fifth Harbour that afternoon, and now the Razorgulls are interested. It will take all of the gang’s effort to break into two buildings full of rival gang members, regain possession of the contraband, and make it back to the Slat in one piece. And that’s without the inherent strains of playing at business negotiations with a group of decidedly underhand friends.

Join the Crows as they cheat, steal, lie, and bribe each other, all before the heist has even begun.

I am so excited to finally get to share the fic that I have been working on for the @grishaversebigbang over the last few months - A Hotel on the Board is Worth Two on the Geldstraat! Getting to take part in the Grishaverse Big Bang 2021 has been so much fun, and I have had the honour of working with an absolutely incredible gang of artists and the loveliest beta reader. It’s been an absolute blast, and this is one of my favourite things that I’ve written. Thank you so much to everyone that I’ve worked with, and I hope that you enjoy reading and admiring the story and art that we’ve created!

Here is everyone in my gang, with links to the work that they’ve created (some art may relate to chapters of the fic that haven’t been posted yet - the fic will be posted in its entirety within the next 3 weeks and the art will be linked within the fic on the relevant lines, but also there’s nothing that will spoil the story for you, so don’t worry!):

Corporalki: @davonysus (who is the most wonderful beta reader, thank you for everything that you contributed to this story!)

Materialki:

@ciph3rrr with hilarious Crows-minus-Kaz Monopoly shenanigans from Chapter 1

@j-wirth with this brilliant Inej and Wesper moment inspired by Chapters 2 and 7

@bloodysusher with a gorgeous group moment in Chapter 7

@verdiris with some amusing Kaz geniusness from Chapter 7

@maximumbluebirdpatrol (link still to come)

@emmaxtw (link still to come)

There are 7 chapters in total, so I shall be uploading a new one every Tuesday and Saturday until 25th September. Look below the cut for an excerpt from Chapter 1, and if you want to read the full thing (and check out the collection of all the other incredible pieces created for the GVBB) then click either of the links. I hope that you enjoy!

AHOTBIWTOTG Chapter 1 Excerpt:

The front door of the Slat opened with a loud clatter, and slammed shut on itself seconds later. It made Inej jump in her seat as she sat going over ship documentation - which, as it turned out, there was a lot of - in the front room. Nina gave her a look, and Inej wrinkled her nose back at her; the Wraith didn’t startle easily, but equally, there was usually less banging of doors while she tried to organise her finances.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Came Jesper’s voice. “And I brought treats!”

“It had better be more exciting than that time you came back from Cilla’s Fry with meat pies,” Inej called back. “That was underwhelming.”

“Speak for yourself,” Nina chimed in. “I was more than happy to finish up those.”

“We know.” Matthias gave her a knowing look, and Wylan sniggered as she raised a single finger at him in response.

The bickering that came from everyone trying to work on separate projects at the same time was one of the many reasons that Inej hadn’t made it past the first page of her sailing license. That being said, she joined in the chuckling at Nina’s expense.

“Oh, it’s definitely better than Cilla’s pies, but you’ll have to take a look for yourself.”

Jesper rounded the corner, a large trunk tucked under one slim arm. His face was bright from the brisk, cold air of the streets, and a bead of sweat dropped from his chin as he deposited the luggage on the table beside Inej. She sighed heavily as the wad of pages in front of her jumped with the sudden extra weight.

“Sorry,” Jesper grinned. She just rolled her eyes fondly in response.“Come on, who wants to see what I’ve got?”

Nina, Matthias and Wylan all got up from the neighbouring table and crowded around Inej and Jesper. It was uncomfortable having so many significantly taller people stood behind her while she was sitting, so Inej scooped up her papers and deposited them on the floor, taking their place on the table so that she could get a good look at the trunk.

“Where did you get that?” Matthias asked.

“Well, our dearest Kaz decided to put me on shipment duty and I had to wait around at the Exchange for a boat full of contraband to come in. It took hours, so as soon as I saw something that looked interesting, I used my innumerable skills to swipe it so that we could take a look inside.”

““Innumerable” is a long word for you,” Nina quipped.

A bubble of laughter rose up amongst the group, and Jesper stuck his tongue out childishly. “Fine, no contraband for you.”

“No, I want to look!”

“Be nice, then. I get first dibs on anything cool because I found it.”

Matthias snorted. “What happened to the ancient rule of “finder’s keepers”?”

“I found the trunk, therefore I found anything that’s inside it by proxy.”

“Can we just open it up?” Wylan said impatiently. “I feel like we’re building expectations by arguing like this – it’s probably smuggled whiskey or something.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Kaz?” Inej asked. The others gave her a look of incredulity. “Where is he, anyway?”

There was a brief moment of looking at each other for answers, before Jesper answered decisively. “If he was so worried about what came in on the boat, he would’ve gone himself. And if he isn’t here now, then he’ll just have to accept whatever is left over from the spoils.”

“We aren’t actually pirates, you know,” Inej said.

“Not yet,” Jesper stage-whispered in reply, and Inej found herself grinning, pleased. “Gather around, then.” He beckoned everyone closer like a ringmaster at the centre of a performance.

Inej was surprised to find that her heart was actually beating faster with the thought of what might be inside. Wylan was probably right that they were getting themselves worked up over nothing, but all the same, she couldn’t help hoping that they found something rare or exciting. Perhaps it was gold? Guns? Something dangerous? You could never know when it came to the imports of Ketterdam, and for once Inej was glad for the intensity of life in the city. It could very well be something extraordinary.

The catches on the front of the trunk lifted easily, but there was a thick knot of string around the middle as well. Jesper struggled to untie it, so Inej slipped a knife from her sleeve and cut it off with one flick of her wrist. Giving her a mischievous look, Jesper dug his fingernails under the lid and with a crackle of flaking rust, the trunk opened.

On top there was a loose gauzy scarf clearly intended to keep moisture out of the trunk on the long sea voyage, which had definitely served its purpose; the red print had blotted itself onto the inside of the lid, and there were water stains on it where it had protected the rest of the cargo. Matthias and Nina went to grab it at the same time, but it ended up in Nina’s hands regardless as he passed it to her with a shy smile.

“I thought you would want it, so I was making sure no-one else got there first.”

Wylan made an exaggerated gagging noise, and Matthias’ expression quickly reverted to his familiar scowl.

“Aha!”

Jesper reached forward and pulled out two pistols, both only a little rusty and with a single blue gem stamped into the body of each. With impressive speed he turned around and mimed firing two shots at the wall before holstering them beside his favoured revolvers.

As Matthias pulled out a slim soft-covered book, Inej realised that she was far too focused on the discoveries of her friends and was going to miss out on finding her own treasures otherwise. Lifting up two more scarves – this time green and blue – she found another couple of books which she handed to Nina. Her friend’s focus was pulled away from adjusting her hair under her newly matching scarf to flicking through the pages and wrinkling her nose hard.

“I don’t recognise the language, but I can understand it well enough,” Nina mused.

“Where did the boat come in from, Jesper?” Wylan asked as he opened a small wooden keepsake box full of golden rings in varying levels of ornate decoration.

“Kaz didn’t say, and I’ll be honest, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Nina tutted and continued her reading with Matthias peering over her shoulder. With fingers now covered in rings, Wylan pulled out a long fur coat that smelt of mould. Removing its furry cuffs from the case, Inej reached into the trunk for what seemed to be the last item: a big box made of thick card, with a green cover and the word MONOPOLY emblazoned on the top. The lettering was incredibly clear, but it didn’t look as though it had been done by hand or with a printing press. It had an odd shiny feel to the outside as well, like it had been coated in order to keep out the damp.

Inej sat it on the table and lifted the lid. It came off easily, and revealed a large square of that same thick card in bright red that unfolded into a larger board with regular markings on it.

“What in the Saints’ names is that?” Nina remarked, putting down her reading material.

“I have no idea. It was at the bottom of the trunk.”

“Is it a map?” Wylan suggested.

“Doesn’t look like it,” Inej murmured as she put the board down and looked at what was left in the box.

Underneath that map-like object was a tray divided into several compartments, with little silver tokens collected in one, some colourful playing cards of an unknown variety in another, and some appealing little houses done in an unusual material in both green and red. Beside those lay a rack of what looked like currency, in the same shape and thickness as notes of kruge. Jesper immediately started rifling through it all, mixing up the various collections and inspecting them all with irregular attention. Although Wylan slapped his hand away with a tut, it clearly wasn’t out of lack of interest.

“What is it?” Nina asked again. Taking the board in her hands, she began to stumble through the words written on it.

“Collect 200… something, looks like it could be a currency symbol because it says “salary” after that, as you pass GO... Old Kent Road, another amount of money… sixty? Community chest, Whitechapel Road, same amount of money as the other square…”

As she turned it over in her hands, a slim white booklet fell out onto the table. Inej started forward and managed to snatch it up before anyone else did, although the gesture was useless as she immediately handed it to Nina, who skimmed over the first few lines and let out a delighted noise.

“It’s a game! A board game! Seems like you play by going around the board which has place names marked out on it, and you buy up the land so that you can build houses on it. And you compete to earn the most money.”

“Who’s sending weird foreign board games to Ketterdam?” Wylan said incredulously. “Are you sure it’s not got something contraband hidden in there somehow?”

Inej laughed. “Does a game based on financial gain not strike you as the most Kerch thing in the world? I can well believe a mercher bought this to educate their children on the fun of working under Ghezen.”

Wylan cracked a grin at that, and Nina snorted. She pushed the box towards him.

“Take a look if you want.”

He lifted up the tray of items and ran his fingers along the underside, then looked inside each of the little model houses as if there might be gemstones wedged in the base like on Jesper’s guns. Wylan tapped along the top of the board, but there were no hidden compartments or secret openings. It seemed as though they had genuinely come across some kind of entertainment from another country.

“Shall we play it?” Jesper said with a broad grin at everyone. “We’ve got nothing else on, have we?”

“I’m meant to have applied for my sailing license by the end of next week,” Inej said weakly, but she wasn’t much interested in her own excuse. This bizarre-looking game they had stolen by chance had already caught her attention far more than boat permits and crew-hiring documents.

“I’m happy to,” Matthias said, and Nina and Wylan nodded fervently as well.

“Perfect! Let’s not disturb everyone’s things down here, we can take it into another room.”

“Nobody’s bedrooms are big enough,” Nina complained. “Kaz is too cheap to give us enough space to actually enjoy our stay at The House of Brekker.”

“His bedroom is, though.”

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megalony · 3 years

Text

Problem solved- Part 2

I wrote the first part of this new Harry Styles series then got caught up in other fics but I’m finally back to this series, I’ve had some lovely feedback already with only one part posted. I hope you will all like this next part.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez @jonesyaddiction @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh

Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: Harry offers for (Y/n) and her daughter to come and live with him and his son to help her out of a tricky situation and feelings soon start to develop between them both.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Harry I can't... can you show me again, please?" A sigh followed the end of (Y/n)'s sentence and Harry could see the frustration and nervousness in her flitting eyes.

This wasn't getting any easier for (Y/n) right now and Harry knew that it wasn't going to get easier when she was becoming very impatient. She wanted to get this right and do it all in the first day because the quicker she got this mapped out and remembered the easier things would be. Especially when the social worker came round to see them next week.

"Love, you know you can't do this in a day, don't you? It's gonna take a while."

Harry needed (Y/n) to know that trying to map out his entire house in her head was not going to be an easy thing to do. His house was much bigger than her own and whenever (Y/n) moved homes she had to take a long time until she felt at ease enough to walk around without holding the walls or reaching for furniture to remind herself where she was.

It felt unnerving but a little empowering to (Y/n) when she had lied to her social worker Joanne and said that she was in a new relationship and her and her partner had decided to move in together to make things easier. Joanne didn't even suspect that (Y/n) was lying in order to make sure she could keep custody of her daughter, she was simply happy (Y/n) was having and accepting help to make her life easier.

Harry had been all for moving in as soon as possible to make things easier for all of them and they had gotten all of (Y/n) and Ella's things moved in now. All they had to do now was get (Y/n) used to Harry's house and memorise a layout of the house.

(Y/n) had been to his house many times, but she had only been in a few rooms downstairs and she never made much of a layout in her head. She didn't know where all the pictures on the walls were, where the cabinets and desks and ornaments were. She had to remember exactly where everything was so she could manouevre around the house properly.

"I know but I... I want to memorise it so when Joanne comes, she won't be concerned. She'll see that I can walk round the house and show her to the kitchen without tripping or that I can make it to the washing machine or bathroom without a problem. I want her to see that I can adapt here so she knows how good of a mum I am."

(Y/n) pursed her lips as she sat down on the bed, turning her head to the left when she could feel Harry moving closer until he was suddenly sat down beside her on the bed.

Joanne had given (Y/n) a month to get herself sorted and moved in with Harry before she would come and visit and her visit was only an inspection to see the house and check up on (Y/n). She wasn't assessing (Y/n) straight away or her abilities as a mother or to see if Ella would be better with (Y/n) or James. She was simply there to help (Y/n) if needed and see how she was doing but (Y/n) wanted to show her she was fine and capable. She wanted to prove that moving wasn't too stressful and that she was coping with a new environment just fine.

"When she comes here, she'll see how well you're doing to adapt to a new home and she'll see how happy we both are that you and Ella are here. If you trip or get confused or lost she will know that you aren't superwoman, you can't be expected to know the house from top to bottom in a few weeks."

Harry gently eased his arm around (Y/n)'s shoulders, smiling down at her when she leaned her head on his shoulder, trying to accept and agree with what he was saying because she knew it made sense. But at the same time, her panic was making her desperate to do everything right and make no mistakes. Throughiut her life (Y/n) had to prove to people that she could do everything just as well as they could. She couldn't write but she could read brail, she could listen and imagine movies, she could imagine what things looked like such as colours and ornaments and pictures and people.

She could go to work, she could play music, she could go to the shops and figure out what was on which shelf and where the checkout was. (Y/n) could work out the world around her in seconds, she had gone through a pregnancy and labour and looked after her baby all without her eyesight.

(Y/n) was strong and could do anything she put her mind to, she just needed everyone else to see that.

"Can you show me the room again?" The way her voice was soft like velvet made Harry bite down on his lip before he darted his tongue out to run over both his lips. He was thankful right now that she couldn't see him or the effect her soft yet inviting voice had on him.

"Course, love." Harry cleared his throat when he realised how quiet and croaky his voice sounded.

Harry slowly got to his feet before he moved around when (Y/n) stood up so that he was standing behind her. He had to control his breathing when he pressed his chest up to her back so she couldn't feel any hitched breaths he had or the way his heart was fluttering in his chest. With (Y/n)'s lack of sight it meant that her other senses were how she saw the world and they were amplified. She could always feel when Harry was breathing faster or the slightest change in his stance and she knew exactly what it meant. He would hate for her to feel the effect she had on him.

To try and help (Y/n) learn her way around the house and where everything was, Harry had taken to standing behind her and guiding her around the house. He was being her eyes for her, walking her around the house so she could take in everything and try to remember it. Once she was sure she knew where everything was, she could do a lap of the house on her own and see if she was okay with the layout and where things were.

(Y/n) tensed her fingers and stretched them out to try and stop the nerves rattling through her before she felt Harry's hands resting on top of her own.

"Okay, seven steps from the bed until you reach the chest of drawers against the wall." Harry's soft low-pitched voice murmured quietly into (Y/n)'s ear where his lips were hovering as they walked as if they were conjoined. Their hands reached out in front of them until (Y/n) could lower them and feel the top of the polished wooden chest of drawers she was now using.

When deciding where to put her clothes (Y/n) knew it would be easier to keep them in the same order as when she was at her home. Her socks and underwear in the first drawer, vests and shirts in the middle drawer and trousers and leggings in the bottom drawer. All her dresses, pressed shirts and jumpers were in a wardrobe next to Harry's lined against the back wall and (Y/n) kept them in the same order as when at home to make it easy. Many of her coat hangers had paper labels on that had brail on them so she knew which item was which and what colour it was, etc,.

"Necklaces and rings are in here... the picture of us is there." (Y/n) spoke quietly and Harry assumed she was merely reminding herself of the items as she spoke. He loved watching and feeling the way her fingers skimmed over the dark blue metal box containing her jewellery or the picture frame he sat on the right side of the drawer.

Even though (Y/n) couldn't see pictures she still wanted them in her home and since this was technically her home, she wanted pictures of all of them around the house. She trusted Harry when he said which picture was better and he described them to her in enough detail to make her smile and imagine it herself.

"The wardrobe is over there... a-and the door is here." (Y/n) pointed out to the left before she started slowly walking towards where she thought the door was. Breathing in relief when she felt the door handle and opened the door, making sure she remembered the steps it took to get there from the chest of drawers.

"See, you're getting there, love."

"And you're sure us sharing a room is okay? I mean we're not exactly... together."

(Y/n) turned her head to the left but a shiver ran down her spine when she could feel Harry's breaths fanning gently against her nose and cheek. Even though she couldn't see him, she could almost see the way he was staring down at her. She could feel his stare burning into her features and it made her chest quake.

As much as (Y/n) was intrigued and nervous about sharing a room with Harry, she wanted to make sure he was okay with this. It wasn't exactly normal considering they weren't in an actual relationship.

This was all fake.

They were best friends living together with their children but pretending to be in a relationship to make sure that (Y/n) was able to keep sole custody of her daughter. Sharing a room was something Harry had proposed, he said it would be better in case Joanne wanted to look around the house and see where they were sleeping. And considering (Y/n) was used to sharing with James and having him there for help it seemed like a good idea. If (Y/n) needed to get up during the night Harry was there in case she tripped or had a nightmare which he knew happened a lot. It would also be easier for the kids to understand.

"Trust me love, it's fine. We've shared a room loads of times before and it's the easiest option."

"Okay then."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Elliot, honey do you want something to eat?" (Y/n) reached her hand out and gently ruffled his hair, feeling the fluffy strands of hair carding through her fingers like cotton wool.

The five year old seemed to be following (Y/n) around a lot the past two days she and Ella had officially moved in with him and Harry. (Y/n) had been a part of Elliot's life since he had been born so he was very comfortable around her like she was one of the family which was very good. But he was never normally this attached to her.

Moreover, he didn't seem too confused or intrigued by the fact that she couldn't see. Elliot seemed to take it in his stride, he questioned a lot of things because his capacity of understanding was different than the other kids but he never questioned why (Y/n) couldn't see. He even gave her some of the pictures he drew or painted at preschool even though he knew she couldn't see them. (Y/n) sometimes thought it was so she could appreciate what he was doing and how he was trying.

Elliot was a reserved child, he liked to be on his own or surrounded by family depending on his mood and the day he was having. It was also hard for him to communicate because it took people a while to understand what he was saying. He had a speech impediment so he kept his sentences short both so it was easier for him and easier for everyone else to try and understand him.

"Hmm, cheese sandwich please."

The answer was predictable but (Y/n) knew she had to ask him anyway. There were only a few options Elliot would actually eat and a cheese sandwich was what he mainly ate for dinner nearly every day.

"Okay honey, could you just find me your plate please?"

As much as (Y/n) was trying to get her bearings in this new home, it was much larger than her old home and there were so many changes. The layout of the kitchen was different, the drawers were different sizes and the cupboards were in different places with different handles. It was becoming a tiny bit easier to try and remember where everything was kept but (Y/n) was still unused to it all.

Plus, Elliot had specific cups and plates that he liked to use, he had one particular plate with his favourite cartoon character on that he always had his sandwiches on. (Y/n) remembered Harry telling her this but she couldn't remember where it was kept and right now she didn't know the feel of the plate so she wouldn't be able to find it anyway.

"Thank you honey, why don't you go and see if Ella wants something?" (Y/n) rested Elliot's plate on the counter in front of her when he passed it to her. But a rush of adrenaline coursed through her stomach suddenly when she felt Elliot gently and cautiously take hold of her hand and sway it between them for a moment before she heard him toddling off out of the kitchen. Something in the back of her mind told her that he had done that as a small gesture that he was there or a sign that he was about to go out of the room.

It didn't take too long for (Y/n) to find the bread and butter, it took a little longer to work out what object in the fridge was cheese but she managed to find it.

"Knives... knives?" (Y/n) mumbled to herself under her breath as she tried to find which drawer held the cutlery so she could cut the cheese and spread the butter but a gasp left her lips in shock when something sliced against her hand.

Pulling her hands to her chest, (Y/n) curled her fingers around her thumb, hissing under her breath before biting her lip when she could feel the blood starting to stick against her fingers and leak between the grooves of her hands. She kept forgetting this was a new home. Sharp knives were normally kept in a box in a cupboard so something like this didn't happen but it seemed too trivial and silly for (Y/n) to ask Harry to do for her.

"Hey love, Elliot said- are you alright?"

Harry could see that his voice made (Y/n) jump, she clearly hadn't been paying attention to the noises around her or she would have heard him approaching. He leaned around her to try and see what was wrong but his lips pursed together when he realised she must have hurt herself since the cutelry drawer was left open.

"Let me see." His voice was gentle and his hands were cautious yet smooth as they reached out and cocooned around hers. He slowly pulled her hands closer to him before he opened them like he was slowly prizing open an oyster shell to see the pearl hidden within.

(Y/n) silently let Harry tug her over to the sink before she shivered at the feeling of the cold stream of water battering against her thumb trying to wash away the blood.

"What does it look like?"

"It's not that bad love, just a small cut-"

"No, I meant the blood... why are some people so scared of it?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he looked up from (Y/n)'s thumb to look at her enamouring eyes that were now darting up behind her eyelid and back down again rather than going from side to side. She couldn't always control the way her eyes moved and sometimes they didn't move at all, only really when she was nervous or zoning out.

It was normal for (Y/n) to ask Harry things like this, she saw the world in a sheet of darkness, her sense of touch, smell hearing and taste were her eyes and her imagination was like drawing on black paper with black ink. She had never seen anything before so imagining it was almost impossible.

(Y/n) couldn't imagine what her own daughter looked like, she couldn't imagine what Harry looked like or what a microphone was. Something trivial like a carpet or a pebble or even water, they were all things (Y/n) had no idea what they looked like and feeling them was so different to what it really was. She had a few friends who were uneasy around blood, it made them queasy just like the smell of certain foods made (Y/n) want to be sick or faint. But she wondered what was so bad about blood that made people feel that way.

"I... I think it's the thought of it, rather than how it looks. Blood is special, it's meant to be in your body, so when some people see it it's the thought that scares them." Harry knew that a lot of blood from a serious injury was a different thing but for some people, seeing small droplets of blood worried them because of what it could lead to. The thought of blood was worse than what it actually was or looked like.

"Can you describe it to me?"

(Y/n)'s voice was timid and it was so gentle and caring like she was asking Harry something so important yet in such a laid back, loving kind of way.

She could feel her heartbeat starting to increase when she felt Harry smoothing his thumb over her own, brushing away the blood in such a way that (Y/n) could feel butterflies flying underneath the surface of her skin and spilling out with her blood.

"It's thin, everything you hear makes it seem thick like gravy but it's not, it's thinner than water. It looks delicate right now and when it mixes with the water it doesn't really change colour, it just looks... thinner." Over the years he had known (Y/n), Harry had gotten rather good at describing anything (Y/n) asked, even trivial things that he would never think about describing before. Blood was definitely a different, more out of the blue one, but he was sure he had done a good enough job for (Y/n) to come up with some sort of idea or image of it.

(Y/n) didn't know how to respond to his rather beautiful description so she simply squeezed Harry's hand, feeling her heart jumping again when Harry pulled her with him away from the sink. It felt like the atmosphere was changing but (Y/n) didn't want it to. She wanted to stay in this thick, weird but rather intoxicating moment with him.

She relished in the feeling of Harry dabbing at her thumb with a towel, feeling the fluff smoothing against her skin and prickling against her cut skin before it was suddenly replaced with pressure when Harry wrapped a plaster around her thumb.

"All better." Harry didn't think before his next movement, he automatically brought (Y/n)'s hand to his mouth and pressed his lips against her thumb.

Even though the plaster was in the way, (Y/n) could still feel his lips against the pad of her thumb. She could feel the creases and indents in his lower lip that felt like a plush cushion against her skin. His lips were slightly bumpy in places from where he had been biting them out of nervous habit but they were still so delicate and plump. The more he pressed his lips against her thumb, the more tingling sensations (Y/n) felt under her skin and she could feel a touch of saliva when her thumb pressed against the inner parts of his lips. It made her feel like she was touching him intimately, that he was letting her in somewhere that no one else could go.

"Uncle Harry?"

The feeling disappeared. (Y/n) had never felt like something had been ripped away from her so quickly and rudely before now and she missed the feeling of his lips against her skin.

Harry was quick to pull away and spin round on his heels to look down at Ella who was staring up at him with her big blue eyes that were sparkling in the kitchen light. He guessed both his and (Y/n)'s senses had been dulled considering neither of them had heard or felt the presence of the little girl who had snuck up on them.

"What's up, little lady?" Bending down, Harry looked at Ella like she was the only person worth listening to in the world and she could see she had captured his full attention which only made her smile brighter.

"Are you mummy's boyfriend?" The sudden question floored Harry for a few brief moments and he turned to look behind him as if (Y/n) would see his unsure expression and tell him exactly what to say right now.

"Um, yeah he is baby."

"Do I still call you uncle Harry?" There was a surprised tone to Ella's voice but (Y/n) could clearly hear the excitement there which made her breathe in relief. She just had to hear Harry's answer to know if he was okay with her telling the kids this. They seemed to have silently agreed this is what they would tell them but (Y/n) knew Elliot would take it one of two ways, but with how he was following her around it might be a good thing to tell him.

Harry wanted stability for Elliot and this was going to help him with that as well as give Ella more security and stability by having someone her age living with them and having another father figure around, even if it was fake.

"You call me whatever you want, little lady."

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #dad harry styles #harry x reader #imagine #problem solved

63 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 3 years

Text

Callisto (Part 8 - Recovery)

This one is over 4600 words to the point I considered cutting it in half. But lots happens so I’ve posted it whole. Now I just need to play catch up because I had a crappy couple of weeks and now I’m only about 500 words ahead of this. I have a few days off coming up, so wish me luck :D

As always, many thanks to the amazing @janetm74 @scribbles97 @tsarinatorment @vegetacide and science officer @onereyofstarlight You guys have helped me make this what it is. I so hope you are enjoying it.

For the first time in this story, I’ve slightly gone off plan and have had to add in a chapter because of it. Here’s hoping I can keep this going. We are now at 35,000 words which is approximately halfway.

Warnings: some whump.

Thank you for all your support with this fic. I doubt I could do it without all the cheerleading and support. You guys are just amazing ::hugs you so much::

Enjoy!

-o-o-o-

Jeff Tracy was a man of action and drive. Eight years in the depths of space had eroded the edges of his impatience, but hadn’t eliminated it.

So, sitting in Callisto Base watching his family work and not having anything much to do wasn’t in the best interests of his mental health.

But what could he do?

He had set up a kind of mobile control despite not being in control of anything. John had linked him into everything and he and Lee had pretty much taken over one of the command centres of the Base.

Grae hovered the entire time.

Jeff watched the well-oiled machine that was International Rescue with no small amount of pride. He watched them track down the lifesigns, survey the site, drill extra access, deploy Thunderbird Four and-

“Gordon!”

“Guys, get out of there! Now!”

The holographic image of the lake swelled and swept his sons away.

Jeff was on his feet without thinking.

Three of the five life signs on the strategy map darted erratically, one coming to an abrupt stop against the cavern wall, while the two others travelled some distance up the main tunnel before stopping suddenly.

“Thunderbird Five!”

“Please hold.”

Jeff’s eyes widened. “John!”

Data was suddenly thrown at his terminal. His sons’ vitals sprung up and he was relieved to find them all strong. A sitrep appeared a moment later tracking where the wave had come from, probabilities of a recurrence, a site safety scan and a feed from the Dragonfly Pod.

Its lights were still on, one shining at an angle across the tunnel it had landed in, the other reflected back a glare of white and a blue as beautiful as an Earth sky in the early evening.

The first one explained why.

One of the Dragonfly’s legs was sticking up out of a solidified white mass.

Of ice.

The math added up in his head very abruptly and he was suddenly moving.

It was a sign that Lee and he still had that unspoken communication as the engineer didn’t even ask and just moved with him, following his mad run to the hangar without a word.

Alan and Gordon had left the second Dragonfly pod at the Base and Jeff was ever so grateful.

“What’s…where are you going?” Grae’s eyes were wide as they all skidded to the side of the pod.

“Three of my sons are buried in ice. Where do you think I’m going?”

He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, climbing up into the cockpit with a leap of agility he hadn’t felt for years. With a nod from Lee, he snapped the hatch shut and grabbed controls he hadn’t used outside of a simulator in over a decade.

It was like returning home.

The Dragonfly took off for the airlock far above as the doors began their opening sequence without request.

-o-o-o-

John reacted the way he always reacted.

Without thought. There was no time for thought.

Hands moving across his console dragged as much information as he could from the static-fouled scans.

He blinked as the interference cleared somewhat.

A worried plea from his father John had no time for. A flick of his wrist and he mirrored his sources to his father’s terminal.

All three of his brothers had come to a halt. Gordon was still in the cavern, Four slammed up against a wall. Scott and Virgil were in the tunnel. Vital signs were still good, but there was no response from any of them.

No matter how much he yelled into comms.

One of the beacons had been swept away, causing the interference to intensify in that area, but the readings he had added up to a scenario that echoed past hell.

His father was already moving.

“John?” Alan’s voice was professional but sported an edge of terror.

“I’m coming down, Thunderbird Three.” He grabbed his helmet. “Dad is on his way out there. Do we have enough parts for a third Dragonfly?”

His brother’s voice solidified with the plan of action. “Yeah, Virg overcompensated as always. He packed stuff in as if he was planning to stay out here for a couple of years.”

John didn’t answer that. “Assemble another pod. I’ll see you down there asap.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos, align the Excel with the danger zone. Initiate elevator deployment.” He flung himself through his ‘bird. “I need as much information as you can give me. Relay on descent.”

“Yes, John. It appears that the water volume of the lake increased dramatically before the incident, but has now returned to its previous status.”

John slipped through the airlock to the elevator. He hit his comms. “Michael, there has been an incident. I am going down to the surface. You have the Excel.”

“FAB, Thunderbird Five. I will monitor.”

“Liaise with Eos.” He killed the connection as he entered the cockpit, his seat rotating towards him in welcome. “Eos, be nice.”

“I don’t like him.”

“Too bad. We need him.”

She grumbled in a way reminiscent of Virgil before coffee.

Maybe she had been taking notes.

He ignored it. “Send all information to my terminal here.” The elevator shuddered as it disengaged from Five and began its descent. The cockpit lit up with holograms.

He eyed the replay of the static-riddled scan as the lake swelled and overcame his brothers.

Four had been swept out of the water and washed ashore violently. Scott and Virgil, standing on that shore, hadn’t stood a chance.

One gloved hand reached up to poke the playback, pause and rewind. There had been a local seismic disturbance just before, epicentre to the north-east by a few hundred metres. Minor on an Earth scale, but since Callisto supposedly hadn’t had any major crustal movements in eons, it was unusual in the extreme.

“Eos, pull the Base seismic records. Have they detected anything like this before?”

The elevator’s thrusters fired as it hit the faint atmospheric boundary.

“Their system has recorded several incidents, but nothing of this magnitude.” Eos’ voice shifted to one of concern. “Incidents have been increasing recently. There have been three in the past month. John, one was recorded by the Base system the same day as the five members of their crew disappeared.”

“What? Why wasn’t that mentioned?”

“Unknown.”

He stared at the scan. “Do we have any source for more water to reach the lake?” It hurt his physics sensibilities. Water should not exist as a fluid in this environment at all.

“None within sensor range.”

Damnit. He was used to being able to see everything.

“Deploy a net of probes. I want everything in a ten thousand kilometre radius as crystal clear as you can get it.” If there was a pun in there, he refused to acknowledge it.

“Yes, John. That will cover the entire surface of the moon.”

“Exactly.” Something weird was happening here and he wanted to know what. If he had to throw everything Thunderbird Five had at it, he would.

The elevator thrusters fired again and the moon appeared around his windows, followed by the striking red of Three.

“Alan, are you ready?”

“Pod assembled, Thunderbird Five. Awaiting your orders.” There was no tremble in his brother’s voice, but there was an anxious impatience.

The elevator touched down with a soft thud. Eos’ control was perfect. “Thank you, Eos.”

“You are welcome, John.” A pause. “Be safe.”

His lips tightened a little. “FAB, Thunderbird Five.”

She didn’t answer as he stepped out onto the moon.

-o-o-o-

Alan didn’t remember his mother, but he had four brothers who did and he knew far too well the pain of what had happened when she was taken from them.

The fact that three of those brothers were now buried in the space-ice equivalent of an avalanche was absolutely terrifying.

The water had managed to travel some distance before solidifying and trapping everything. As far as Alan could tell, his brothers were encased in ice.

If they had been on Earth their lives would be in peril. In space, they were at least wearing their spacesuits. But spacesuits could be damaged.

He didn’t let himself follow that train of thought. He couldn’t afford it right now. Instead, he followed procedure.

That was what procedure was for.

It was a matter of minutes before John was stepping off the space elevator, his tall brother as confident and professional as ever.

Part of Alan was still surprised when John directed him to take control of the pod. Perhaps it was because Alan was used to the control freak habits of his two eldest brothers?

“Get us down there Alan.” John was distracted, glaring at his wrist projector.

He didn’t need to be told twice. With John secure in the backseat, Alan threw them down the gaping hole his ‘bird had dug, through the mole’s extension and into the dry cavern below.

The dragonfly latched onto the beacons and they darted down the correct tunnel, glittering rock streaking past them as their twin beams of bright light hit everything.

Including the mass of white that that suddenly swelled up on one side of the tunnel.

It wasn’t quite a wave, more a slosh of water, frozen in motion.

“What the hell?”

“Edge down the tunnel a little further, Scott is...” But they were already there and the flash of blue and red was obvious.

His eldest brother was embedded in the ice halfway up the wall. Alan only had breath as he yanked the dragonfly to an abrupt halt, her claws leaving gouges in the ice. “Scott!”

He was out of the pod as fast humanly possible.

One of his brother’s arms was dangling free and Alan reached for it. “Scott?”

Limp, gloved fingers.

John already had a hand laser out and the red of its beam was cutting ice in a loose silhouette of their brother’s body. As they worked him free, bits of ice fell away to the floor. It was fragmentary. Somewhere between solid and hard packed snow. The water had obviously frozen so quickly, it was aerated enough to stiffen fully.

Fortunately, because Alan had the sudden realisation that spacesuits or no, if his brothers couldn’t expand their ribcages, they couldn’t breathe regardless. The sudden relief sprouted new terror.

John helped Alan lower their big brother to the floor.

“Sc…Scott?”

For a second, Alan thought it was John speaking, but his astronaut brother answered, voice urgent. “Virgil?”

No response.

“Thunderbird Two, status!” John was moving, long legs leaping in the low gravity, propelling him back to the pod. He reached inside and pulled out a large torch. “Alan, attend to Scott.” And then his brother was running further down the tunnel, light bouncing ahead of him, holographic map hovering over his wrist.

A further spark of terror was smothered in Alan’s brain as he turned back to his prone and unconscious eldest brother and began chipping and melting ice to free him.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was lying flat on his back staring at white lit up by his helmet lights.

It took him a few solid minutes to realise exactly what he was looking at. His brain felt sluggish and was hurting like hell. He really needed more painkillers.

He automatically tried to calculate how long it was since his last dose and came up blank. There was time missing.

This realisation was quickly followed by the discovery that he wasn’t able to move.

God, his brain was slow. The first thought that came to mind was that yet another building had fallen on him. It happened far more often than he was willing to admit.

But then where was his exosuit?

He blinked slowly.

One arm was caught at an awkward angle and was protesting its position. His legs seemed to be splayed out evenly, though and his other arm seemed happy enough. Hell, there wasn’t really even much weight on him. He had definitely had worse.

But his chest was tight and breathing shallow. Something had him in its grip and he had to force down the visuals that came with that.

Not being able to move always sucked.

He really wished his head would stop hurting.

“Sc..Scott?” It was instinctual. In trouble, call for his big brother.

Need a hand.

“Virgil?” John’s voice. Johnny had the power to call Scotty, to get him help.

He opened his mouth to answer, but something shifted in the ice...ice...it was ice! Memories slammed into him of ice and snow and trapped and oh god...his sluggish brain couldn’t handle it.

“Thunderbird Two, status!”

John’s voice shook him.

Um, um…his heart was beating a mile a minute. He fought for control.

“Virgil? Son?”

Dad.

His father’s voice set off both relief and fear. Relief because of a deep-seated trust in his own father.

Fear because where was Scott? Scott should be here.

But Scott had been with him when the whatever had hit him.

Had hit him.

Water.

Space.

Callisto.

Sparkling crystal flickered in his mind’s eye.

“Scott?”

“Your brother is in good hands.”

Even his sluggish brain could see that as a non-answer. “Dad?”

“We’re digging you out.”

Oh.

As if to emphasize that statement there was a red flash and the world around him hissed. He closed his eyes as the light stabbed into his hurting head.

“Dad? Gordon?”

“Nearly there, son.”

Virgil’s heart clenched.

They uncovered his head first and Virgil teared up at the sight of his father’s worried expression above him. John was there as well, darting in and out of sight, obviously the source of the laser light.

“Johnny…”

There was a crack in the ice.

Ice.

His mind blanked in terror again.

Too many memories.

Far too many.

“Virgil! Look at me!” Dad’s voice held command and he had no choice but to obey. “You are safe.” His hand was being held and Virgil realised it had been cut from the ice. He tried to move his other arm, every heavy-lifting muscle he had straining against its restriction.

Another crack of stressed ice, a yelp from John and Virgil’s arm was suddenly free, ice fragments raining down on him.

Encouraged, he began working on his feet.

“Virgil, stay still just a moment longer.” John’s voice was strained.

Virgil wanted out.

“Virgil.” His Dad grabbed his flailing hand forced him to look at him, grey eyes reflecting the white ice. “Hold still, John is cutting you out.”

Yes, John was cutting him out. Red flickered amongst the white. Virgil swallowed and attempted to get the panic under control and found that he was trembling.

Damn.

He was a rescue operative. He should be calm.

The remaining weight on his belly was removed and he was finally able to take a deep breath.

It helped ever so much.

He closed his eyes and sought his centre.

And fell back on procedure.

If Scott was down, International Rescue was now his responsibility. He needed to be in control.

In control.

By the time John lifted the remaining ice off his legs, Virgil had found himself again. He clambered out of the ice as fast as he possibly could and shot to his feet.

And nearly fell flat on his face for the effort.

His father grabbed him and prevented his fall. “Virgil, sit down.”

There was a flicker of a medscanner, but Virgil was too busy assessing the situation to care. “Scott?”

“With Alan. Unconscious, but safe.”

“Gordon?”

“Still in the cave. Thunderbird Four is silent. I sent Lee. John is following him down.”

Damn. Virgil shook the last of the ice stuck to his uniform, straightened his baldric and took a step towards the direction of the cave, but was halted by a firm grip on his arm.

“You’re not going down there.”

Virgil spun on one foot and the world in all its glittering glory spun with him. “Gordon is down there.”

“John and Lee have him. You were buried in ice, Virgil.”

To his ultimate shame, Virgil shuddered at the concept.

But Gordon...

That grip on his arm tightened. “You’re coming with me.”

Virgil straightened, forcing steel into his spine. “With Scott unconscious, I am in command. I need to be down there.”

“No, you don’t.” His father took a step back up the tunnel, obviously intending to drag Virgil if he had to.

Virgil was no longer the scrappy kid who wanted to play with his paints instead of cleaning his room, and he stood fast.

His father had been in space a long time and his strength had paid the price.

There was no competition.

Buried in ice or not.

“Dad, I am going down to help with Gordon. Scott needs you. I’ll meet you up there the moment Gordon is safe.”

The need to be in two places at once, or more correctly four places, at least, was a common feeling Virgil had to ignore.

Gordon was the priority.

“I need an analysis of what happened. There was a wave. Why? See to Scott and Alan.” He reached up and gently peeled his father’s grip of his arm. “Thank you for helping me. Now I have to go help my brothers.” Turning he hit his comms, asked John for a sit rep and hurried down the tunnel.

He did not look back.

-o-o-o-

Scott had a headache.

That was the first hint of reality and not a new one in his life. He often woke with headaches, the only remaining question was what caused it this time.

“Hey, Scott, are you with us?”

Alan.

Several factors hit home at once. He was wearing his helmet, hence his uniform and Alan, only Alan, had said his name.

Mission.

He was sitting up before his brain had filled him in on the fact he was millions of miles away from home and gravity was a whole different thing on Callisto.

“Whoa!” Hands grabbed him. Hands that definitely belonged to Alan. The astronaut was crouched over him with worried eyes. “Take it easy. You might have a concussion.”

Head injury then.

“Mission status.”

“John’s gone after Gordon. Virgil is awake and out of the ice.”

Gordon. Gordon had been in the water. The weird water.

The very idea of Virgil being buried in ice again awoke horrors he did not want to face.

“Help me up.” Scott rolled himself over, ignoring the protests from his brother to stay put. His head protested very loudly and it became very apparent that the supposed head injury was not impressed with any movement.

Ow.

But, mission.

“Scott, what are you doing?” Another set of hands grabbed at him, which was probably a good thing because he was going down if they hadn’t. As it was, the whole world shifted as he was forcibly lowered to sit on the white, white ground again.

There was a flicker of yellow light and muttering from his youngest brother. “We need to get him back to base.” Alan’s voice was worried.

But Gordon. “I’ve got to go help Gordon.” He tried to stand up again, but too many hands held him down. His shoulders were grabbed and he found a pair of grey eyes staring at him. “Dad? Gordy is in danger.”

“I know son. John, Lee and Virgil will see to him.”

Virgil. He blinked. “Virgil was with me!” Again he struggled to get up.

His father held him down. “Virgil is very determined that he is fine. You, however, are not. You have a concussion. I will take you back to the Base and you will rest. Alan will help his brothers.”

“But-“

The hands on his shoulders squeezed. “Do I have to ask Virgil to reinforce that order?”

Virgil? Order? God, his head hurt.

But this was Dad. Dad knew what to do in space. Dad was...Dad was...

“Scott, you with me?”

He was shaken just a little and his head hated him for it. A groan and his hand encountered his helmet. Augh.

Space sucked.

“C’mon, Scotty, let’s get you into the pod.” Alan’s voice was gentle and professional. He was so proud of his little brother. “Yeah, well, I learnt from the best. Up you get.”

He was pulled slowly to his feet and he had to bite down or lose whatever the hell it was he had eaten last. There were steps and then he was sitting and familiar restraints were holding him in place.

He closed his eyes.

Gordon. He had to help Gordon.

“Your brothers will help him, Scott, you know that.”

But-

His world shook as the pod lifted. He glimpsed the back of his father’s helmet. Dad. Dad was driving. Dad had control.

He could let go.

-o-o-o-

Alan swallowed as their father launched the pod back down the tunnel, its headlights sparkling.

He had reported Scott’s status the moment they had the medscanner’s results and had received a very abrupt acknowledgement from Virgil.

It was unusual to have Virgil in command in space. It wasn’t his native environment and he didn’t venture into it very often. It, of course, wasn’t the first time, and Alan trusted Virgil with his life. But this was Alan’s turf, he needed to be there to help.

He leapt into the remaining dragonfly and dashed off down the tunnel.

It got tighter and tighter as he flew closer to the Crystal Cave, his access blocked by frozen lake water. For a moment he thought he was going to have to abandon the pod, but he was just able to squeeze through the entrance.

The lake was exactly as it had been. Calm and glittering in the pod’s headlamps. He turned slowly on the rocky beach to find Four, free of ice, jammed up against the wall beside the tunnel entrance. She was on her port side, cabin rammed into the rock.

Alan’s heart clenched as he set the dragonfly down.

Both John and Virgil along with Uncle Lee were attempting to gain access via the rear hatch. The ‘bird was made for water, but on the very rare occasion such as this, Brains had built space capable redundancies into her airlock.

How many submersibles in this universe were also space capsules in disguise?

But all this was redundant if the seals had been compromised.

A quick query of Thunderbird Five reassured Alan that Gordon’s vitals were still strong. There was still no response from their fish brother, but he was alive and relatively stable and Four reported no seal ruptures.

Yet.

Virgil grunted as the back of Four was slowly cranked open. Uncle Lee and his engineer brother were putting all their muscle into heaving the hatch open while John slipped into the vehicle.

A moment later the door was shoved shut again and Alan was surprised to see Virgil seal it with a hand laser.

Tired eyes caught Alan’s. His brother didn’t need to explain why he was doing what he was doing.

“Inner airlock door is now compromised.” John’s voice was calm and sure despite the subject matter. “Proceeding to the cockpit.”

Alan stared at Virgil a moment, caught by his haggard expression before hurrying around Four towards her belly viewports.

All he could see was Gordon’s feet. No matter how he shone his hand light through those windows, he could see nothing more. Gordon’s pilot’s seat obscured everything.

For it to be in that position it had to have been severed off its mountings.

Hell.

Determined, Alan scrambled around Four’s nose and tried to find her front viewports. Everything was obscured by rock.

Crystal glittered mockingly at him, an almost scarlet chunk of quartz sticking out of the wall and falling over as if it was reaching for Four.

Alan fought the urge to shove it away from his brother’s ‘bird.

“Cockpit hatch is non-operational. Eos, relay through my suit sensors and give me a detailed report on Gordon’s position.” John’s voice was ever so calm.

Alan wanted to scream.

He hurried back to the lower ports and stared at his brother’s feet.

Again Gordon had been crushed in his ‘bird. How hurt was he this time. How long would he take to recover?

Virgil spoke up and Alan was startled to find his engineer brother and Uncle Lee standing beside him. Virgil was standing ramrod straight. “Eos, can you pull any medical data?”

“Please hold.” The AI’s voice was crisp and professional. “Compensating for interference.”

Damned interference. Alan was so sick of static. Their comm lines and sensor feeds were usually perfect. What was it with this place?

A big hand gently wrapped around his arm.

“I’m fine, Virgil.”

The hand did not let go.

“Thank you, Eos.” How did John stay so calm? “Cutting into the cockpit now.”

Virgil’s wrist control lit up and projected the sensor data he had requested from Eos. True to this place, parts flickered and there was some pixilation, but a clear outline of both Gordon and John inside Four was all the reassurance it could be.

Gordon was curled up on the ‘floor’ of his ‘bird, on what had been Four’s portside viewports.

The laser cutter in John’s hand flared up brightly as he cut through the cockpit hatch mechanisms.

Red light flickered through the marine acrylic enough to catch on Alan’s uniform.

“His right arm is broken again.” Virgil sighed. “He’s going to be so pissed.”

“I’m in.” And John was. Light lit up the viewports, quickly followed by the yellow of a medscanner.

“Oh, thank god.” Beside him, Virgil visibly deflated in relief. The hologram lit up with Gordon’s full medical details. A red alarm hovered over one arm where the break snapped his right ulna and his head had an orange flag that pinpointed a likely concussion. But other than that, Gordon appeared whole and safe, his spacesuit undamaged and airtight. Alan’s shoulders dropped almost as much as Virgil’s.

“He’s safe to move, John.” No doubt John knew that, but Virgil obviously had a need to confirm it anyway. He had a habit of doing that. Alan wasn’t really sure who it was for, Virgil’s brothers or himself.

The next few moments involved cutting open the rear hatch of Four again. This time there was the hiss of escaping atmosphere as Virgil took the entire door off the sub, no longer needing to worry about Gordon’s suit integrity.

John emerged carefully carrying his unconscious brother, Gordon’s helmeted head limp on one shoulder, his arm in an emergency splint, no doubt from one of Four’s first aid packs.

“Vincent, I’m thinking you boys need to take your brother back to base.”

Alan suddenly realised they were a pod or two short to carry all of them. There were five operatives and only one pod.

Uncle Lee eyed Virgil, his lips thin. “Albert, you could fly George while Vincent, John and I dig out the other pod.”

Virgil shifted his feet as he translated that, and Alan frowned at him. His engineer brother was wrecked. Alan could see it in his eyes. Understandable

Virgil’s nod was firm, regardless. “FAB. Alan, you’re with Gordon. John, what is the impact of the interference on Eos’ capability to pilot the pod if necessary?”

Their space brother was looking down at Gordon’s face frowning. “Eos is deploying a moon-wide probe net. We can use them to strengthen the signal. I think that above ground, Thunderbird Five should be able to pilot reliably. I would not recommend attempting it underground.”

Virgil nodded again before striding over to Alan’s pod and, climbing up and throwing the hatch back, began reconfiguring the backseat to transport their injured brother.

Alan hurried over to help and within minutes, John had secured their unconscious aquanaut brother prone on his side in the back of the pod.

Silent, eyes closed, non-responsive.

Alan took off smoothly and with as much care as possible, flew back up the tunnel, heading above ground and back to Callisto Base.

His last glance at the Crystal Cave outlined the shapes of two brothers and an uncle standing ever so alone in a giant cavern that had tried to kill three of his brothers.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #John Tracy #Alan Tracy #Jeff Tracy #Lee Taylor #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #callisto

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 3 years

Note

hi can u write a part 2 of the fic you posted with shawn breaking up w his best friend for his girlfriend?🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Part 1

Changing my life came with the loss of my best friend. No, he didn't die, but he is dead to me due to his stupidity. Unlike what he thinks, I didn't lay in bed mourning our relationship, rather out and about, meeting new people.

I've never liked going out too much, especially not alone, but that was before I found myself consumed with anger toward him. I resent Shawn for what he did. I always will.

But Dean made it better.

Meeting Dean meant having someone to talk to, confess weird dreams to, laugh at 2 am because I felt so happy I couldn't sleep. It meant forgetting Shawn, bit by bit, until he was a distant thought in the back of my mind.

I heard his new song, unwillingly considering how it played in every store all the time, but I ignored the papers and social media gossip. I didn't want to know how he's doing, nor of his happiness with his toxic girlfriend. I really didn't.

"Can you get the door?" I ask Dean who points to his phone and I realize he's talking to someone in the kitchen. "Fine", I groan, dragging my feet toward the door.

Ever since the pandemic started, Dean and I spent all the time at my new apartment, me studying and him working from home. Neither of us wanted to risk separately quarantining this early in a relationship. Besides, I like him enough to be around him all the time.

Putting on a mask, I roll my eyes as more knocks come, annoyed at the impatient human on the other side.

But once I open the door, I lose my breath and my heart sinks as arms wrap around me and the impatient hands once knocking on my door now rest on my back.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry", he repeats and I stiffen, struggling to draw a proper breath. Pulling away, I take full notice of the man before me and the changes he underwent since we last saw each other.

He's lost weight, enough to be concerning and for his cheekbones to prominate. His eyes are sunken and weary, the light once inside dull. Dark circles around his eyes speak volumes of his lack of sleep and I stumble back from shock at his unruly, unkempt, long, greasy curls.

"I know I fucked up. I did. Badly", he pushes his hair back but it falls to his face again as he continues. "I tried calling weeks after, I wanted to text you every day and I couldn't. You disappeared, from the internet, from the phone and you moved away and I was so fucking terrified I'd never see you again."

Licking his lips, Shawn's breaths come in short, quick intervals and I know he's nervous. "Say something." He pleads, but my mouth is dry and my mind is blank. What is there to say?

"Are you sure your girlfriend would be okay with you talking to me?" I raise an eyebrow, determined not to let him in. I'm not making it easy on him.

"We broke up", looking away, Shawn swallows thickly as he forces a smile, "she found your photo in my wallet and freaked out and I just had enough of her shit."

Fuck. I didn't know he kept that. "Should have told her the truth about it." I shrug, avoiding his gaze. I put that photo in when he got his first wallet and I figured he'd take it out eventually, but he didn't. Why didn't he?

"The truth? I never realized the real reason why I kept moving it from one wallet to another, but I know it now." Shawn's lips twitch as he holds back a smile, his eyes meeting mine as I dare to look at him and yet I know what he'll say.

"Don't. It's too late for that." My voice is shaky as are my hands that pull down my mask, irresponsibly so. But I wanted to speak to him without barriers, without hiding.

"It's never too late. As long as we're both breathing, it isn't." Shawn steps closer and I hold my breath, flinching as he takes my hand in his and places it over his heart. His hands are shaky too.

"No", I try to pull away but he's too strong. "You broke me. You tore my heart out and now you're fucking with me like this? Fuck off!" I push against his chest, noticing his chin tremble as I step back, free of his touch.

"Everything alright?" Dean's voice only brings more anxiety to my veins, my heart pummeling in my chest.

"I'll be in soon." Trying to keep my voice leveled, I glance back to Dean who is staring daggers at Shawn. With a curt nod, he leaves us be and I fix my gaze on Shawn who is nodding to himself.

"That's what you mean with too late?"

Chuckling in disbelief, I close the door behind me and push him back. Shawn stumbles, nearly falling downstairs as his bewildered eyes fall to my quivering lips.

"Don't you dare!" Pointing my index finger at his chest, I step closer as he steps back, "You broke up with me. You don't get to judge me for moving on with my life, especially not when it took you years to get your head out your ass long enough to realize we could have had everything!"

"You're right." Shawn sighs, pulling a hand across his face as he shakes his head. "But tell me you don't feel the same. Tell me you don't love me because I can't pretend. I love you." Uttering those dreaded words, Shawn shrugs, smiling innocently while his eyes fill with tears and it leaves fresh wounds on my heart.

The old me would hold him and tell him I do feel the same. I'd have cried with him, kissed him, but I'm not that person. He ruined it all. He ruined me.

"I do. Love you. I just don't like you anymore. I don't trust you." Admitting to it feels like a weight off my chest and while it lessened my on pain, it seems to have transferred to him.

Shawn is holding back tears, clearing his throat. His hands are on his hips, his cheeks a deep crimson.

"Do you love him?" Shawn croaks, "Do you trust him?"

"It's too early to say, but I do trust him. He makes me happy." Glancing over my shoulder, I look back at my door and wonder if Dean is pacing nervously around the apartment as he does when work makes him anxious.

"And if I wanna fight for you?" Shawn raises an eyebrow but his voice carries no strength or determination. He sounds defeated.

"You could try." I chuckle, swallowing tears. That's what I wanted a year ago. I wanted him to fight for me. To tell me it's me he chose. "There's always a chance. But you made a choice once and that choice is never going to magically erase itself from my memory."

"If there's hope, I'd like to try." Shawn shrugs, looking at his feet. "One word from you at any time will stop me. Just tell me to leave and I will. I'll respect that."

I don't say a word. I should. I should tell him to go and let me be, but I can't. A part of me hopes he will find a way to make it up to me, to prove what's in his heart but another part of me wants to prolong his suffering before telling him to fuck off. The bitter, petty part of me. I'm not sure which part of me will win.

"You're worth the fight, Y/N/N."

I stay quiet as he leans in and kisses my forehead before walking away.

Part 3

#shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fic

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horansqueen · 3 years

Text

Stuck With You - Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Break My Heart

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

You say my name like I have never heard before I'm indecisive but this time I know for sure I hope I'm not the only one that feels it all Are you fallin'?

Center of attention You know you can get whatever you want from me Whenever you want it, baby It's you in my reflection Now I'm afraid of all the things it could do to me If I would've known it, baby

I would've stayed at home 'Cause I was doin' better alone But when you said, "Hello" I know that was the end of it all I should've stayed at home 'Cause now there ain't no letting you go Am I falling in love With the one that could break my heart?

I wonder when you go, if I stay on your mind Two can play that game, but you win me every time Everyone before you was a waste of time Yeah, you got me

click here to be on the update list

NIALL

I let my finger slide on the strings of my guitar but my eyes were on Devon and my head was thinking about her, too. She was laying down on the couch, her legs on my thighs, reading a book, and the way her eyes moved into a frown or opened more into slight surprise was mesmerizing me. We hadn't really talked in a few hours but it didn't matter, I still felt completely at ease with her. We were sort of used to it since it happened a lot when we were in our room at college, but here, in my apartment, it felt even better.

We had taken a walk earlier, got caught by snow and grabbed food on our way back. We ate together with a glass of wine in the kitchen and when we got up to relax in the living room, I realized that It was my favorite day in a very long time. It had started amazingly but I had to admit the sweet moments with her were hard to beat. I knew we'd have problems if we stayed a few more days away from everyone, especially with our classes and school projects, but I wanted it so bad it made my heart twist in my chest when I thought about it.

Would we go back to be only friends? Would her stupid ex still be around? Would he message her again? Would she push me away the way I pushed her away when we met? I liked to believe that everything would be exactly like it was now but I couldn't be sure. It felt different here, like we were in a parallel universe, or alone on an island. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted to stay here with her, and I was ready to put everything else on hold and risk my school year to make sure things wouldn't change between Devon and I. That thought was scary and I closed my eyes, trying reason myself. I couldn't fall again so hard for someone. I became dumb and blind when it happened and I knew it wouldn't end well.

I got out of my thoughts when Devon's phone beeped and she groped around to find it, her eyes never leaving her book. I checked the title and my lips curled slightly on the left when I realized it was a book about famous painters and their history. Why wasn't I surprised? It made me wonder what the painting she had started in the guest room looked like but I would never invade her intimacy by looking at an unfinished piece of art without asking her.

"Oh, god." Devon let out, checking her phone and chuckling nervously. "Our friends are so stupid."

Immediately, I knew she was talking about Louis and Lewis and I raised my eyebrows.

"What do they want?"

"See for yourself." she just replied, handing me her phone.

I frowned and grabbed it, noticing they had left comments under the pictures of me that Devon had posted earlier in the day. The first few were comments about the fact that I was almost naked and I rolled my eyes with a smile, but when my eyes found one specific comment from Lewis, I raised my eyebrows and chuckled.

'I dare you two to fuck!'

I re-read it a few times before checking Louis' answer that simply said. 'I bet they already have!'

I groaned and glanced up at Devon who was looking at me with an amused smile. Finally, I continued reading their interaction with my nose raised up.

'Do you know how long it took them to be friends? They definitely haven't fucked yet.'

I couldn't pretend he was not right but it was slightly annoying to see your friends discuss of your love and sex life on a public social media under pictures of you in boxers.

'Lewis, touché. Niall & Dev, I double dare you'

I waited a few more seconds and just held out her phone to Devon, making her chuckle. She took it back and put it away before moving her upper body slightly up, her book placed on her stomach but still open to keep her page. My eyes roamed on her and a bunch of nasty thoughts appeared in my mind.

"It almost makes me want not to fuck so we don't give them what they want." I admitted, raising my eyebrows.

"Almost?"

"Almost."

This time, my lips curled as she laughed and I did the same. My smile fell slowly as I looked at her, turning into a fond look. They were right about something, it really had taken us a while to become friends, and It made me wonder how many moments we had lost while I tried to hate her. I normally could contain myself quite well but when it came to Devon, it had been difficult for me since day one. I had kissed her randomly and maybe a bit roughly a few times because it was stronger than me, because I didn't hate her and I knew I never would. And she had answered my kisses every time, giving me back all the feelings I tried to communicate her, probably even more.

"Devie..." I whispered, licking my lips nervously as her eyebrows raised. "You remember when we got locked in the library for the night? You grabbed my notebook and It was not our school project so I just.. took it back?" she nodded slowly with a frown and I cleared my throat, twisting the fabric of my sweatpants as my other hand grabbed my guitar tighter. "I was writing a song. I was writing a song about you."

Her lips parted and she remained motionless for a while, just staring at me as my heart thumped so hard in my chest I felt like it was going to explode or escape. I waited for an answer or a move, any reaction coming from her would be fine, but nothing happened and I breathed in, taking my guitar better as I started playing.

"Like the rain on a sunny day There's a shadow behind your face Tell me what you're running from I don't know what made you so afraid Don't you know you got the best of me? Yeah, you're everything I want

Anyone can see Anyone can see You're hiding, hiding You can talk to me It's more than skin deep But I'm trying, yeah

Since we're alone Yeah, you can show me your heart If you put it all in my hand No, I swear No, I won't break it apart Since we're alone Show me all that you are And if you get lost in the light It's okay I can see in the dark

All your thoughts running through your head The things you think better left unsaid Just wanna know where you came from Why would you wanna play someone else I love you best when you're just yourself Yeah, you're everything I want

Anyone can see Anyone can see You're hiding, hiding You can talk to me It's more than skin deep But I'm trying, yeah

Since we're alone Yeah, you can show me your heart If you put it all in my hand No, I swear No, I won't break it apart Yeah, since we're alone Show me all that you are And if you get lost in the light It's okay I can see in the dark"

When I was done, my eyes met hers again and her head was tilted. She was tearing up and I didn't know why but the fact that she seemed touched made me feel better. She moved her upper body up slowly, holding herself with her elbows and her book slipped from her stomach to the ground but she didn't give it a second glance. She simply reached for the front of my shirt, grabbing it in a fist and pulling me with her slowly. I held my breath and my lips parted. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and she brought me on top of her. My guitar fell on the carpet in a thud, joining her book, as I lied down on top of her. My lips met hers and immediately, she whimpered in my mouth, grinding her hips up against me. Her hand slid on my back and she moved my shirt over my head. I helped her by moving slightly up and as I was throwing it away, she reached for the bottom of hers and took it off too. It got caught in her hair and I pulled on it gently, letting it fall on the floor. My eyes ran on her and I noticed she held her breath but I was not sure why. She reached the sides of her pants and squirmed beneath me to take them off, pushing them down to her legs before one of her hands reached behind my head and pulled me closer. Our lips touched again and I groaned low as her hand gripped my hair.

I could barely believe she was finally completely naked around me and that simple thought excited me more than I thought it would. I felt her reach between us, grabbing my cock over my pants and without thinking, I pushed my hips against her hand, impatient to be inside her. I could pretend I didn't know if that's what she wanted but by the way she was kissing me and touching me, I was sure about it. I brought one of my hands to push my pants down and this time, she's the one who helped me. I struggled to take them off completely and when I grabbed them to throw them on the floor, I did the same with hers. It got stuck under my knee and I squirmed more as she giggled a bit and I smiled too when I was done, moving back over her and looked in her eyes.

"I really want you." I whispered, making her smile disappear.

"Me too, Niall." she replied just as low before pressing her lips together. "That time in the elevator... I thought we were going to do it right there on the floor."

Her confession made me raise my eyebrows and I chuckled in surprise. "You would... you would have wanted to?"

"Mmhm, yes. I wanted it just as bad as I want it now."

As if to prove it, she moved her knees up around me and I felt the tip of my cock slip inside her. Her eyes rolled back and she closed them as her back arched a bit. I remained motionless but I could feel her throb around my tip, proving me how horny she was. It turned me on even more and I moved closer, running my tongue on her jaw before reaching her neck. I started sucking on her skin as I pushed myself slowly inside her and her grip tightened in my hair.

"Fuck, stop for a second or I'm gonna cum." she whispered, gripping my hair so tight it could have hurt if my cock was not buried deep inside her.

I started nibbling on her neck, feeling slightly dizzy from her confession but from the way her body reacted, I knew she was not lying.

"You feel so fucking good." I admitted low, moving my head up slightly to suck on her ear. "Love the way you clench around me."

She whimpered and I let my mouth travel until hers before kissing her gently but deeply. Her grip in my hair loosened and I started moving in and out of her so slowly it was barely bearable. It only took half a minute for her to start shaking under me. Her back arched and she closed her eyes tight, making me reach between us to rub her clit through her orgasm.

"Fuck, Niall, oh my god." she whispered as I watched her cum.

The sight was amazing and when she finally stopped shaking, she relaxed beneath me and I kissed her again. "Was good?"

"I'm so sorry." she apologized in a breath. "I couldn't stop it."

"Why would you want to stop it?" I asked as I started moving again, my lips still pressed on hers. "I want to make you cum as many times as I can."

I had no idea how long I would last for our first time but I still planned on making her cum a second time and when I started going faster and a bit harder, she started squirming.

"Fuck you're so wet." I admitted low, feeling her juice all over her inner thighs. "This is driving me fucking insane. Your pretty little cunt is so fucking perfect, did I tell you that before?"

Her lips parted but I frowned when she moved slightly, trying to reach for something on the coffee table. My heart skipped a beat when I realized it was her camera and she brought it up to snap a picture. I had no idea what it would look like but I liked it.

I couldn't help it and started fucking her harder, feeling my chest rub against hers as I held myself with my arms on each sides of her head. I slipped my fingers in her hair as I thrusted myself deeper and harder inside her.

I never thought our first time would be like that. In fact, I imagined it a lot rougher and dirtier, but it was perfect like that and somehow, I hoped that she understood all the feelings I had for her.

I heard the camera again and for some reason, I felt like she was simply taking pictures of whatever she could reach with her arm up. She seemed focused on what we were doing but I appreciated the effort and I kissed her lips as I heard the camera again.

"Mm, yea? You like my pussy? It's all yours." she let out near my ear. "Please make me cum again."

Her words brought a rush to my brain and I moved myself up on my hands, pushing my hips against hers to go balls deep. My eyes followed her hand as it ran on one of her breasts and then the other before it reached her clit. She started rubbing it and the sight brought me close to an orgasm. I tried to hold it until she started cumming again and when she did, she moaned louder than the first time, wiggling in front of my eyes and her pussy clenching even more around my cock.

"Fuck, Devie.."

My fingers curled against the fabric of the couch and I pushed myself deep in her as I came. It didn't seem to stop and when I pulled out, I realized I was still cumming. It gushed a bit on her pussy and she brought her hand to my cock, stroking it and making my orgasm even stronger. Once again, I heard the camera but didn't think much of it.

"Jesus.. fuck." I whispered, shutting my eyes tight and finally letting myself fall back down.

We panted for about a minute and I finally moved to lay down next to her but on my side, facing her. I brought her closer and my lips found hers, kissing her deeply and slowly. She tasted amazing and I groaned low in her mouth. She finally pulled away and my eyes fluttered open only to see a soft smile on her lips.

"Is that how you get girls in your bed?" she asked with a giggle, letting her eyes roam on my face and making me smile.

I buried my face in her neck and left small kisses on her skin. "Let's say it's the first time it ends up like this." I admitted with a chuckle, pulling her body flush against mine.

"Mm, and definitely not the last time."

I pulled away enough to be able to look in her eyes as one of my hands ran slowly on her back, along her spine. "So when I sing you an other song I wrote for you, we'll have sex again?" A small smile appeared on her lips and an amused one on mine. "Does that mean I have to write a new song every time I want to get my dick wet?"

She laughed and pushed my arm gently, making me laugh too. "Shut up!"

"Okay!" I just replied, moving closer and kissing her again.

Her arm wrapped around my waist again and I felt her body press against mine. I loved everything about this, even the fact that we were laying down on my couch and not in bed. Her hair was a mess and I could only imagine mine was pretty much the same. We were sweaty and exhausted but we still took the time to kiss each other slowly and deeply, as if we both didn't want this moment to end. In fact, I wanted this moment to start over every fucking day from now on. The more we spent time together, the more I wanted her to stay, and the more I realized my real feelings for her. Most of the time, I tried to push that thought back so I didn't have to deal with it, but right now, it was not an easy task. I knew she didn't want a relationship, but would telling her the three little words make her run away?

"Does that mean you're gonna write more songs about me?" she asked in a murmur when we stopped kissing.

Her eyes were still shut and her lips still so close I could feel them brush on mine. "Devie, I already wrote a few more songs about you." I admitted in a whisper, moving my head up and down extremely slowly to let our lips brush together again. "And I'll write many many more."

She swallowed hard and her eyes roamed on me. For some weird reason, it seemed like she felt guilty and she breathed in, licking her lips. "I spied on you." she confessed quickly, making me frown. "A few days after we met, I heard you play the piano and I just... I watched you while you wrote a song." My traits softened and she pressed her lips together. "The first time I heard you sing... fuck, Niall. You... you have no idea of all the feelings it brought inside me. Your voice just does something to me. That's... that's why I teared up earlier when you sang to me. Your voice just does that to me. You. You do that to me."

I moved my face closer and brushed my nose very slowly against hers.

"Your art does the same to me. Devie, your art moves me in a way nothing else moves me, except... except you." I admitted in a whisper. "The day I told you that you had paint on your face... I walked to your painting class and searched for the painting with that shade of blue. Nothing else brought so many feelings in me. It made me compose a song in half an hour."

"My... art moves you?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows. "I move you?"

"Yes, you do." I confirmed, staring in her eyes to be sure she understood I was seriously. "All of you." I paused and shook my head. "Devie, I-"

She cut me by crushing her mouth against mine but I was not sure if it was to stop me from confessing my love or simply because of an intense need inside of her. I chuckled against her mouth as her hand slipped to my butt before moving up on my back.

"You're gonna have to show me those pictures."

"I will." she promised as I kissed her lips again. "Tomorrow."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan au #niall horan college au #niall horan enemies to lovers #niall horan uni au #my fanfics #swy

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sepublic · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday to The Owl House!

Honestly, I’m… REALLY shocked to think back on how it’s been a year? It’s been a full, actual year, since that first episode?

I remember when The Owl House was first announced around early 2018. Something about it, the premise, the characters from that one poster we got; It really drew me in, and I kept track of the show’s progress in eager anticipation. Whenever Dana released art of Luz, Eda, and King, I was ecstatic- And when the show was delayed to 2020, I was dismayed.

Then we got our teaser trailer; The opening them, the end credits, even a little sneak peek! I remember speculating a lot about Luz and all of the other new characters we were introduced to, such as Willow, Amity, and Gus- And then we got more and more trailers in the days leading up to the show. I wondered about Luz’s home back on Earth and where her family was, I listened intently to the Hooty and the Parliament music video, finding an almost melancholic, weirdly nostalgic (despite having never watched the show yet) vibe to it- Whilst also avoiding looking at the screen and seeing all of the various clips it offered, because I wanted to be surprised! It was two years of anticipation, two years of wait for this show- I’d never looked forward to a series before like this, last I can recall… So having this content FINALLY come out, seeing these characters in animation, hearing their wonderful voices! My soul was vibing, it was time, it was coming after all this time…!

Eventually I finished Infinity Train Book 2, the same day that The Owl House premiered… I was blindsided when I woke up to the first episode’s release online, in full- I was already planning to wait until later to watch it on television, so having it permanently accessible from the internet was such a pleasant surprise! And the show… The show, man- That premiere caught me off-guard with how much I enjoyed it! I knew I was looking forward to this show, but still…! It blew away my expectations, and even now, has continued to; It was like my personal investment and attention had paid off so patiently well! I even got a DisneyNOW subscription so I could watch each new episode ASAP, the day it premiered, hours before it aired on television!

I remember scouring Tumblr before the show officially premiered, and there was understandably very little- A few pieces of fanart here or there. And when the show DID premiere, for a while there wasn’t really much of a fandom- There was barely anyone, in fact! But I can remember a few notable blogs who have been around since the beginning… Me, I got invested into this show. I found myself really enjoying Lumity as a ship, especially since I resonated with both characters in it; Luz was such a ball of sunshine that brightened my day, and Amity really spoke to me with her more introverted, top-scoring personality. When the show hit its mid-season hiatus, I remember not handling it too well, as I got impatient and frantic in my speculations- I wanted so badly to learn more about these characters, see what happened- Get a look at Emperor Belos (then known as Bellows by the fandom), etc.

I wrote my Bile Coven piece in preparation for Halloween, even got to know a mutual or two over shared theorizing! I kept track of Dana’s updates, and even had people come to my blog, of all places, to send asks! It was and still has been such an engaging part of fandom for me… I recall impatiently waiting for the Owl Pellet shorts and freaking out over them- And when Adventures in the Elements leaked early? I LOST MY MIND, I remember postponing something I was supposed to go to, just so I could watch the episode- And it was so good! Then I started wondering and hoping the rest of Season 1 would come out, and well- It took a while…

And when Season 1B’s trailer came out, I was all over it; Scouring every possible frame, freaking out over the Grom screenshot, and appreciating the influx of new fans! It was amazing to watch The Owl House go from a relatively minor and obscure fandom, to becoming so much more mainstream and populous! I got into Rebecca Rose’s channel, I began writing more meta and posts about the show, as well as little recaps for each new episode. I feel like my blog really took off from here, as I got to interact with more and more people who shared this mutual love of The Owl House, and I was so ecstatic to see more content and buzz about it!

My mind was solely focused on The Owl House, it was one of my huge hyperfixations, even moreso than during Season 1A’s run- I remember being anxious about Enchanting Grom Fright, wondering if we’d get queerbaited… But NO, Amity was in love with Luz! She canonically had a crush on her, a girl in love with another girl- And I loved it because Lumity was a special comfort ship of mine! Then Amity was confirmed lesbian… It was amazing! And I found myself SO invested, so inspired by the show and its characters, and all of the little allusions to things, the foreshadowing, the moments here or there that made so much more sense after a new episode.

This show inspired me creatively- It got me to write some of my personal favorite fanfics, and I was and still am so touched by whatever feedback I get from them! The Owl House really got me to write, to obsess over characters and analyze them, to look at motifs, to think about worldbuilding… It’s been such an artistically enriching experience, both the show and the fandom! I remember despairing so terribly when Agony of a Witch came out, the genuine betrayal I had when Lilith revealed the truth- Because I’d been legitimately endeared to her character beforehand, even formed a sort of ‘trust’ in a sense… And like many others, I agonizingly anticipated the season finale, the much-needed emotional reconciliation!

I remember how the episode titles were revealed, bit by bit, and how I and others speculated on what they’d spell out! I remember when the fandom obsessed over the Witch’s Apprentice game and its relics, for clues and new lore after each episode, the little hints here or there! I was freaked out by characters like Belos, who lived up to my hopes and expectations- First being alluded to by name, then his amazing appearance… And then his voice and mannerisms and everything about him! And when the Season Finale came out…

Well, there was relief. But there was a bittersweet emptiness- That it was over! The first season was over! There was a celebratory triumph, of course- We finally wrapped up the first, major arc of the show, the first batch of episodes that had been worked upon, the whole thing now unveiled and appreciated! But I was a little dismayed because a part of me KNEW a hiatus much longer than the previous one was ahead of me, and I did not handle the mid-season hiatus well. Of course, then Dana had her Reddit AMA, and the charity livestream; Both of which NOURISHED me creatively, and have helped to fill out the wait! To carry out my momentum, to not flounder about in hiatus; I invested myself into more meta, into various posts, etc. I read fanfiction that genuinely floored me, obsessed over fanart, etc.

I supported the show’s release on Disney Plus, ecstatic to get this kind of ready access. I revisited past episodes and characters, looking at them in a new light, appreciating things; Like Luz’s relationship with fantasy… King’s surprising development, all of Eda’s little hints and clues. There’s been an emotional catharsis with these characters for me- And I genuinely feel like I’ve been a lot happier lately because of this show! I’ve met so many other blogs and gotten to know them, seen their ideas and displayed mine as we appreciated one another… I even remember doing another blog’s fanart prompt prior to the show’s release, in preparation!

I feel like The Owl House has genuinely given me a new appreciation for meta, for fandom and analysis… For headcanons, for writing my own stories and contributing my own ideas and speculations, etc.! It’s contributed SO much joy to me as a hyperfixation, and rapidly risen through my blog as my most frequent tag! And even as I explore other fandoms and hyperfixations, both then and now, especially to pass on this crippling hiatus… This show holds a VERY special place in my heart for me. It’s really made me feel for these characters, the love and sadness, the excitement and sense of comfort… Its love and emotions, angst and found family, lore and speculation, it hits so hard to me in a way that other media hasn’t!

It’s provided representation- Such as canonically queer characters, or protagonists who speak so well to the neurodivergent experience for many people! I’ve had delight in seeing people suggest Amity as autistic, when before Season 1B, I lowkey headcanoned and saw her as such- So seeing more evidence for this resonated deeply in my heart! I remember all of the discussion about King as a character, the confusion and talk about whether or not he WAS a King of Demons, when that first announcement in 2018 had made a similar claim… I looked forward to Eda and Lilith’s relationship, speculated on who cursed Eda, and remembered when I’d considered the Blights as a potential culprit! I remember thinking about Hooty, wondering what his deal is- And thinking then and now about that Owl Deity mural in the Owl House! Watching Luz’s development as a character and as a witch, seeing her become more proficient with magic until it finally pays off with her squaring up against Belos, and wounding him- I’d never felt so proud of a character and their progress before!

There’s still so many more questions and mystery, lore… as well as just genuine character interactions, to look forward to! I think The Owl House is one of my favorite shows of all time… It’s deeply touched me as a person and creator, and I genuinely strive to create something even close to this one day. This show has inspired me, made me laugh and cry, compelled me to creatively make content; It’s introduced me to a wider fandom that I genuinely feel like a part of, had me meet other mutuals… It really is something special to me. And while I am eager for Season 2, I also want to appreciate what Dana Terrace and her crew have already established. I love this show’s art style and animation, the designs and overall weirdness of its characters- I love speculating and thinking about them, getting more and more details, and so forth.

If it’s for a better product, I’m fine waiting for Season 2. And honestly, I love what we already have, and I’ve done a lot with so many people. I’ve even looked over supplementary materials and stuff posted by the crew or news articles, in my need for content… And I love every bit of update, art, and/or acknowledgement of the show’s hiatus, and Season 2’s development! There’s so much to look forward to… And there’s so much that I’ve enjoyed, after plenty of anticipation!

Thank you @danaterrace, and everyone who worked on this- For everything. It really is crazy to reflect on this entire year, to realize it’s been a full year since that first episode, since that first premiere that lit up my world like Luz’s light spells; And it feels like such a milestone that we’ve reached! I look forward to what comes next, and I also intend to keep appreciating and cherishing what we’ve already gotten. Here’s to this show’s second year, people- It’s been such a journey to look back on and remember each step, each phase, each particular moment and stage… And I can only imagine what will come next! This show has SUCH a special place in my heart, and has made me feel in so many ways I haven’t before!

Happy Birthday, The Owl House! You’ve earned it!

#the owl house #toh #owl house #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house king #lumity #happy birthday #dana terrace #ramblings #nostalgia #meta

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