#it is wild that people hate her when in many ways she's not that different to glenn
Note
icy every day I think about the one time I went onto the dndads reddit and the top post was people wishing that scary would die so that beth may could just make a new character sheet and like literally everybody was agreeing with that post . obviously I have not been on the reddit since
DUDE
I remember looking at reddit dndads and getting fed up with how much everyone seemed to hate s2 and Scary. This season, especially the early parts, was very much about being a teenager and what that's like, and people seem to forget that that often means being flawed/a dumbass/really mean/just being wrong. It's so frustrating to me how many people on reddit seem to forget that Scary is an angry teenage girl. Yeah, she's mean and annoying and cruel - that's kind of the point. Lot of teenage girls are
#asks#dndads#scary marlowe#it is wild that people hate her when in many ways she's not that different to glenn#who was often selfish and an arsehole and overpowered#the later two being especially in early s1
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Neighbour | Lando Norris
WC: 2K+
Lando x reader
Summery: (REQUESTED) Your neighbour and you don’t get along, but what happens when your ex turns up to your house.
Warnings: Cursing, cheating, google translated french
A.N: Not my best work but I wanted to get something out
Masterlist
You've been living in Monaco your whole life, went to school there, went to college elsewhere before coming back to Monaco. It's true that it's a hub for all the richest of people, plus all motorsport athletes and fans. On most days you don't mind any of that, but you're starting to hate your life there. A lot of people move in and out of the city all the time, some rich some not, some nice some not, your new neighbour is anything but nice.
He isn't always there but when he is, he makes sure you know it, and makes your life a living hell.
But he's the last thing on your mind right now, you're going out with your friends and boyfriend to go clubbing. It's the weekend and you're all wanting to let loose, it's been a long weekend and your neighbour is back in town, so that adds to the sleepless nights and headaches.
Lando was dragged out of his apartment to go to a club with Max and Kelly. He just came back to Monaco a few days ago and his friends wanted to have fun. P was having a sleepover at her friend's, so it was perfect.
Lando knows who you are, he definitely does, he's seen your glare and heard your shouting more times than he can count. Always screaming in French and never letting him let a word out before you're marching off. He has no idea if you think he speaks French, or if you’re just cussing him out. That gets on his nerves, who shouts and then leaves without any explanation or waiting for any response. It irked him to no end, did it make him blast his music a tad bit louder? Yes he did, but she started it, she's the one that annoyed him and kept shouting.
Lando is dressed to go clubbing with a chain around his neck, his curls wild and free to do as they want. He met with Max and Kelly there, he chose not to drive, knowing he'd be drunk by the end of the night, and the club wasn't that far from his house anyways. Walking in the club, he felt the vibrations going through him, his blood was pumping, itching to have a drink and hit the dance floor, maybe ask the DJ for a go. The mood was amazing, everyone was having fun as if there's no tomorrow, Lando was dancing with this random girl and Max and Kelly were having a good time. An hour in, Lando made his way to the bathroom at the back of the club, he drank so much and needed to pee to be able to drink some more. It was much quieter at the back of the club, the music was muted, the lights were a bit brighter, and surprisingly there weren't that many people around. Maybe this is why Lando heard it, there was shouting, in thick accented English, different accents, but both speaking English. Maybe he was nosey, or maybe he just wanted to make sure that everyone's okay, but he quietly made his way to the corner at the end of the hallway, leading to the emergency door, he peaked around the corner. Seeing the back of a female in a short dress and hair loose, his eyes running up and down her figure, shouting at a guy much taller and bigger than her, the guy's face was pinched in anger, his hand was moving around.
"I saw you! Why are you still denying it?" The female shouted, her anger and hurt vivid in her voice.
"You saw nothing, because nothing happened!" The guy shouted back and she huffed, Lando could imagine her rolling her eyes as she crossed her arms. "Love, please believe me, nothing happened."
"How can I? When I saw you! I saw you and you have no excuse." She sounded desperate now, Lando debated walking back but he couldn't get himself to just turn and walk away, something made him stay.
"It's dark here, you're mistaken, believe me, please, I only have eyes for you." The guys said and took a step closer, his hands landing on the female's shoulders, Lando could see her tensing. "I love you, you know that right?"
"I know." Lando almost missed her words, he knew she was about to forgive him, and even though he didn't know what happened, he knew the guy was bullshitting his way out of cheating, and she was falling for it.
"Then believe me." The guy leaned in for a kiss, but she turned her head to the side, and Lando saw her face, his eyes went wide and he dipped his head back out of sight. He just saw his annoying neighbour fighting with her boyfriend and he had no idea. He checked her out and even liked what he saw. He wants to bleach his eyes for checking her out. How could he find her attractive? Knowing that her boyfriend won’t hurt her, he went to his original destination. Standing in the urinal he does his business before someone walks in and stands at another urinal one down from him. Lando looks up and sees your boyfriend standing there, looking unbothered. He even got out his phone and dialled a number.
"Hey babe... yeah, I'm going to be late... don't wait up for me.... I know, I miss you too... don't worry, I have tomorrow off and I'm spending it all with you... yeah... whatever you want... I love you... see you tomorrow my love." Lando is standing there in disbelief, that asshole is two timing girls. He may not like you, he despises you even, but that doesn't give that guy rights to cheat on you.
Lando debates telling you, as the alcohol in his system seemed to disappear and he doesn’t drink for the rest of the night, but he did manage to spot you a few times dancing with your boyfriend with a smile on your face, his first time seeing you smiling. Completely unaware, and over the fight you two had.
He decides not to tell you, you'll figure it out.
And you figured it out, one text sent to you by mistake was all it took. Scott kept calling you at all hours of the day and night, you had to block him but he'd get a new number and start calling you again, it left you sleepless and more sensitive. This is why you're standing here in your pyjamas at Lando's door pounding on his door at 8 PM, it isn't that late but you haven't been sleeping well and just wanted to get
to bed, but the music coming from Lando's house just made it impossible to do so. It took Lando a minute before he answered the door. That minute felt like a lifetime to you, you really wanted to strangle him by the time he made it to the door.
"What do you want?" Lando asked, he now knew you spoke English, he was surprised to see you there. You never come to knock on his door, usually your confrontations happen when he's going out at the same time as you or one of you is coming in and another is leaving.
"S'il te plaît, baisse la musique.” (Please turn down the music.) You say in French pinching between your eyebrows in a desperate need to stop the headache.
"Don't speak French, love." You sigh it takes you a moment to register what he’s saying and it seemed for the first time you realise he doesn't, and frown to yourself.
"What?"
"I don't speak French." He repeats amused.
"But-But that means every time-“
"Yes, I understood nothing." You huff and push your hair out your face, your pyjama top rising with your hand movement, giving Lando's eyes free access to your skin, he bites his bottom lip lightly.
"Okay, can you please turn the music down a bit, I can't sleep." You ask him to choose to ignore the fact that he can't speak French.
"It's 8" Lengo frowns and you sigh, he then realises how tired you are. "I'll turn it down."
"Thanks" With that you turn barefoot and walk back to your apartment, closing the door behind you, all while Lango is watching you. He shook his head and went back into his apartment and turned the music off.
You don't interact much but Lendo has seen you in passing during the next week, he caught your phone ringing a few times, it seemed to ring a lot lately and you never seem to answer, always declining the call and then blocking the number, he can only guess that you found out.
Finding out that your boyfriend is cheating on you is never easy, but finding out it’s more than one woman, and more than one time is much harder. How could you be so blind? you don’t get why he’s still calling you. You could only guess that he’s been dumped by all the women he was stringing along. You were going through the breakup, not getting enough sleep, not going out, spending your days on the balcony looking over the city.
You were sitting there with a glass of wine, your head leaning back on the chair as you chilled. Blindly taking a sip of the wine, only to find the glass empty opening your eyes you groan. Begrudgingly getting up to refill your glass when you glance down and have to do a double take, Scott’s car is parked in front of your building, the ugly purple car, eye-catching even in a city like Monte Carlo. “Fuck.”
Your brain came to one conclusion, you have to escape. You run inside, through your apartment and outside to the elevator, only to find it already on its way up. Not a lot of floors in the building, turning and looking frantically, your eyes fell onto your neighbours door, you run there and ring the bell while knocking on the door, repeatedly. Lando opens the door, he doesn’t have time to think before he’s pushed back and his door is slammed, his vision is filled with your hair, you have only managed to push him back a step. you’re looking through the peephole not caring that you just barged into his apartment without any rhyme or reason, offering no explanation.
“What the fuck?” Lando whispered to himself, before he heard it, pounding on your door. Your breathing picks up pace, your eye glued to the peephole.
“Shit, shit, shit.” You mutter over and over again.
“What is happening?” Lando asks and it seemed like you didn't hear him, so he gently moves you to the side and it's then you come out of the trace you're in and blink up at him, he looks through your peephole and sees your ex standing there in front of your door, he's started shouting and calling your name. “What is he doing here?”
“I-uh- I don't know.” You say weakly and look up at Lando, eyes filled with tears, shaking you head you continue voice wavering. “I don't know, he's-he's been calling me and sending me texts and I've blocked him but-but…”
You trail off as Scott starts cussing you out, and throwing threats, your eyes went wider. Lando’s jaw clenched, his hand formed into fists. Lando puts his hands on the door handle and just before he twists it, you place your hand on his to stop him, you're shaking. “Please don't leave me here, don't go out, please.”
“Okay, okay, it's fine, I’ll call security and have him kicked out and he'll be off your visitors’ list.” Lando says and places his hand on your shoulders to calm you down, you nod at his words and Lando just pulls gently to the living room where you collapse on the sofa, your head in your hands. “They’re coming up.” Lando says after his call and sits at the other end of the sofa angled to face you, you look up and Lando takes you in, eyes red, lips raw from you biting at them you're not shaking anymore, but still over all a hot mess. His heart breaks for you, all the past transgressions forgotten.
“Thank you.” You tell Lando honestly, you're grateful he didn't kick you out or tell your ex that you're here.
“No worries, couldn't let you out to that asshole.” Lando clenched his fists just in thought of your ex being outside. “Do you want to drink something, water, tea, coffee?”
“Wine?” You ask and Lando chuckles before he gets a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Thank you.”
Lando pours you a glass, the first one you down in one go. The second one you nurse, by the third you're both talking, fourth your mind is off your ex, and then you're sleeping.
Lando hadn't drank as much as you had, he debated moving you to the guest bedroom, but he's slept on the sofa a few times before and he knows that It's comfortable so he just moves you so you're laying down with a pillow under your head and a light bedsheets over you. Lando finds himself sitting on the coffee table facing you, you look so innocent sleeping, snoring lightly, and once more he just takes you in. “Maybe you're not so bad after all.”
Once he catches himself pulling an Edward Cullen he gets up and goes to his bedroom, leaving you to sleep, but all he could think about is you.
All you could dream about is Lando
Maybe he's not bad after all.
#lando one shot#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris one shot#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando norris#lando#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 fic#f1#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
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12345sex ! oscar p. x ofc (singer!ofc)
“and i like the way you taste, some liquor and a chaser.”
summary: oscar’s cutely obsession over mercury ‘mercy’ nicoletta was apparent that lando clowned him for it. little did everyone know, mercy’s wild boyfriend was the polite australian from the mclaren team.
content warning: use of explicit language, based on a request by @happy-nico, feral!ofc x feral!oscar, lando clowning oscar, suggestive posts (16+), haters gonna hate, fluff
note: this isn’t much😩 but enjoy some freaky oscar
a - n masterlist
o - z masterlist
if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, girlinred
user1 mother 😭
user2 mommy- sorry- mommy? sorry-
oscarpiastri 🤩
user3 lmao what- IS THAT OSCAR PIASTRI 😭
user4 bestie who tf is he? 🤧🤧
user3 some guy who goes zoom zoom on a car
user5 oscar pastry on his mercy simp shit— again
user6 idk who he is but apparently mclaren needs to control this oscar guy
SHUFFLING PLAYLIST w/ LANDO AND OSCAR by mclaren
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris
user1 LETS ALL GO HOME HE WON
user2 mama y papa?
user3 why dis photo kinda— 🤤🥵
user4 girl if my bf’s back give me more space to scratch on i wouldn’t behave too 😩
mercuryisme so real for that 😭
landonorris oscarpiastri go home lad she's not choosing you
user5 NAW LANDO THAT IS MANIACAL 😭😭
user6 lando’s about to catch hands bro 😫
oscarpiastri aren’t you single? 🧐
user7 ACTUAL VIOLATION STAWP 💀
tagged oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc, landonorris
logansargeant i didn’t think he wasn’t being delirious when he said you to were dating😄
mercuryisme 😇😇
arthur_leclerc freaky oscar??? since when???
oscarpiastri 🙂 don’t worry about it
arthur_leclerc cool 🙃
landonorris still baffled but okay 💀
landonorris that man is obsessed with you, you know that right?
landonorris that’s not my teammate— you’re dating a different oscar piastri mate
mercuryisme i can tell you i’m seeing the same oscar you’re seeing, norris 🙂 same neck, same back, same everything
landonorris ew, don’t need to get graphic
mercuryisme stop questioning the integrity of my oscar piastri then 😇
user1 oscar piastri, certified freak
user2 seven days a week 😭
user3 wap? pullout game weak?
user4 i’m more surprised that it was her on her knees instead of oscar on that previous post tho 😄🥲
user5 THIS ISNT WHO WE ARE OSCAR!!!
user6 vegas can change so many people...
oscarpiastri who said anything about this being a vegas effect?
user6 what 😟
oscarpiastri 🫢 liked by mercuryisme
mercuryisme hehe 🤭
♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen
#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x oc#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri social media au#formula one imagine#f1 smau#f1 imagine#formula one smau#formula one x oc#formula one instagram au#f1 instagram au#formula 1#op81 imagine#op81#op81 fluff#formula one fluff
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I have a silly request that you may or may not enjoy.
Fem!Yuu who came from a long line of chefs and can make just about anything. From quiche to raspberry tarts to katsu sandwiches. She of course decides to share her skills in the form of making each of her friends a different bento catering to their tastes.
When asked why, she simply states that she cares about them and wants to see them well fed. Cue the marriage proposals.
~Okay, I can do that. Not for ever character of course because I have no time. Just allow me my personal flavor.~
"The way to a man's heart"
(part 2 here) (part 3) (part 4)
Characters featured:Azul, Jamil, Ace, Deuce, Malleus, Vil, Idia, and versus staff
"Remeber sweetheart, the way to a man's heart is though his stomach. That's how I got your Baba. It's is also a measurement of love, a good dish is made with 3 cups of love and 4 tablespoons of care and 1 liter of dedication."
Yuu had those words etched in her mind since childhood. Every dish she made was filled with the TLC her family required for the perfect dish.
But being the youngest I such a line meant that she had never had many people outside of the family try her foods.
Mama, Baba, Ye ye, and Lola didn't lie; but they didn't want to hurt her feelings.
So Yuu couldn't help but tremble when she handed the two lunch boxes to Ace and Deuce. It was just before lunch time when she presented them before quickly running off.
She ran to the quad and hid behind an apple tree.
Her plan was to let them eat the lunches and later go to retrieve the boxes to get a review. They wouldn't feel pressured to say anything nice and Yuu would know how she did.
And if they like her cooking then they could be super close and eat lunch like this everyday!
But if they hate it then they might not. They might get mad and never talk to her again.
"Are you trying to poison me? What kind of girl doesn't know how to cook something so basic" Ace would say tossing away her lunch.
"It's not too bad, if it's your first time. I just don't think your cut out to be a chef." Deuce would say turning green.
Yuu managed to make herself depressed from her own imagination as she hid. Her wild imagination tended to get the better of her.
"Hey, Yuu! If you wanted to eat here just say so." Ace said standing behind her with lunch box still in hand.
"It's not a bad spot either. We should eat here more often. It's quieter." Said Deuce next to him.
Yuu internally screamed as they sat to eat. She focused on their every facial expression as they ate.
Ace had Monte Cristo sandwich with a summer fruit salad. He seemed to really like the dip for the sandwich.
Deuce had a simple fried egg sandwich with bacon, and cheese. There was a bit of blueberry jam on the side for the bread.
While the boys ate Yuu didn't notice that they eyed each others food and quickly ate theirs to see if they steal form the other. They guarded their lunch like dogs.
Yuu saw this and her eyes lit up believing they really loved her food. Eagerly she waited for them to finish so she could ask.
"Do you like it?!" Yuu asked
The boys after staring each other down heaped praise on her and asked her to make lunch again.
It became a regular thing as they were already spoiled by Yuu and she loved her first taste testers.
With Yuu reassured of her skills came another challenge. He insatiable need to share her food.
"Good food makes for good company and friends." Ye ye always said.
Food is meant to be shared and it was good for the soul. Many souls in this school needed to be fed. Maybe they'd calm down a little.
So she started supplying her friends with homemade food.
Yuu waited patiently for Jamil after basketball practice with a hefty lunch box. It was buttered chicken curry with jasmine rice. It had a side of vegetable sauté. And of course an after practice energy drink.
She had patted herself on the back for this one. She wanted to impress Jamil.
As she walked along the side of the court she offered Jamil the drink. He took it great fully before eyeing the lunch box suspiciously.
"I made you something to eat. I though you might want something to eat you didn't make yourself for once." Yuu said suddenly self conscious.
Floyd must have heard because he rudly began interrupting.
"Oh, sea snake is are so lucky! I want a shrimpy wife to cook for me too!" He whined loudly.
The "Ooo"'s that came from the other basketball club members made Jamil's ears turn red.
"Shut up Floyd!" Yuu yelled at him with her face burning.
"I'm sorry Yuu. You know how guys are. Thank you for doing this for me." Jamil said quietly trying to hid his face.
"It's no problem Jamil. I really wanted you to try this." Yuu said softly.
Just as she said this Jamil looked over his shoulder to the the boys laughing before leaning down and kissing Yuu's forehead.
"I wanted to thank you properly." Jamil said smiling before leaving to sit down to eat with Yuu.
She was an amazing cook and it felt good to be cooked for. It reminded him of when he didn't need to care for Kalim.
"I wish I could eat this everday." Jamil said absent-minded.
Yuu's eays widened before laughing. He didn't mean it. Right?
There were times Yuu casually dropped off dishes.
Korean barbecue for Epel
Ratatouille for Rook
Fresh baked pie for Silver
None of this escaped Vil's notice who wondered why Yuu never came around to give him anything. I wasn't as if he didn't eat.
Though if memory serves he has turned his nose up at certain foods around her. She probably didn't want to be told her food wasn't good enough.
To Vil it didn't matter, if she was a chef she should know her customers tastes. Never mind that he wasn't a customer nor was she being paid to cook, his feeling were hurt.
But as luck would have it Yuu didn't forget him.
"Vil-sama! Here!" Yuu practically bubbled with energy was she leaned over Pomefiore's kitchen counter.
Epel was currently face deep in a slice of apple-apricot pie. and ice cream.
Vil hoped that she wasn't expecting him to eat that as he wouldn't have that much gusto. He didn't have the heart to lecture Epel on manners with Yuu around but he had no problem after she was gone so he better injoy it while he can.
"Try some." Yuu held out a cup of green liquid.
Yuu held out a cup of green tea with a palte of fresh sushi.
"Traditional green tea doesn't go well with heavy or greasy foods so I made some simple salmon sushi to help clean your palette." Yuu said smiling.
Vil took a sip and smiled at her.
"It's good. I wish I could drink this every morning." Vil said eating a piece of sushi.
Yuu turned pink as she quickly excused herself.
Azul was the greediest of her friends. He loved trying new foods but especially fried chicken.
Azul eagerly awaited when Yuu entered the lounge with food in hand. They would eat in his office as Azul would try to trick Yuu into working hin the kitchen.
Even though he was trying to convince her to work for him the job offer was as a personal chef because he didn't want to share. Another reason she didn't agree.
"I just want to eat with you everyday." He said slyly over his Frutti di Mare. "Don't you want to eat with me too?"
Yuu bit the inside of her cheek as she turned red.
"Azul that's not funny. Don't say that unless you mean it." Yuu said stiffly.
"But I do mean it. Cross my heart." Azul said more earnestly but Yuu quickly said goodbye and fled. Azul was left confused.
The next day Yuu spent lunch hiding in the teacher's lounge. She was allowed to as Crewel's pseudo daughter and bringing lunch.
Crewel dug into his beef stroganoff as he listened to Yuu's concerns.
"I don't know what to do! Pa, I can't face them again!" Yuu panicked her hands waving frantically.
"Slow down my pup. What happened." Crewel said unfazed by Yuu's familiar. She's expressive he'll give her that.
"Jamil, Vil and Azul asked to marry me!" Yuu shouted before slapping a hand over her mouth. Blabber mouth.
(telling someone you want to eat their cooking or drink their tea everyday could be considered a proposal. I just happens that in Yuu's family that how they propose marriage traditionally.)
There was a sharp spitting sound from across the room as Sam burst out laughing making seafood gumbo splattered.
"Congratulations, sugar! I always knew you were a charmer. It's no wonder all the boys want you!" Sam laughed.
"It's highly inappropriate. You're all to young to even think of such things." Trein said stiffly as he put down his spoon and stopped eat his potage parmentier.
Divus stared blanky before asking again. Crowley would raise hell over this if he didn't do it first. His puppy can't get married. Not yet.
Yuu found herself at ease after it was explained that people don't propose that way here.
Feeling better she waited late for her nightly walk with Malleus. She made a late night snack of soft madelines and a thermos of cinnamon hot chocolate.
Malleus was more then happy to accept her gift. They sat in glen snacking before Malleus spoke up.
"I heard you are getting engaged." He said drinking hot chocolate
"No I'm not." Yuu sighed because of course he heard.
"I see, so they were all unacceptable. Please consider me an option then. I would happily marry you and eat with you everyday!" Malleus said taking Yuu's hand and getting on one knee.
Yuu almost fainted in shock.
'Papa you lied!'
(Bonus)
"Idia please come out! I brought you some Gyros." Yuu called out from behind the door.
Yuu had been working hard to lure Idia outside and was making progress. Soon enough Idia will be eating in the cafeteria before he knows it.
It was like getting a feral cat socialized as Idia cautiously opened the door. He knew to be wary of Yuu's offerings but like the call of a harpy he does as she wants. Everyday she lures him further away from his safe space.
"I made some tortoise candies last night." Yuu said holding the golden lollipop.
Idia would have to steel himself for this one.
#twisted wonderland yuu#twst mc#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst yuu#twst imagines#twst ace#vil schoenheit#vil shoenheit x reader#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#idia x yuu#twisted wonderland idia#twisted wonderland deuce#deuce spade#twisted wonderland azul#azul ashengrotto x reader#azul x yuu#jamil viper#jamil x yuu#epel felmier#twst floyd#floyd leech#ace trappola#ace trapolla x yuu#malleus x yuu#malleus maleficarum#chef!yuu
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A Balancing Act | Ch. 4*
Series Summary: Harry is a famous, rich, handsome, pop star and he’s been in therapy since his boy band days. When he meets Y/n, a beautiful and successful artist, he cannot take no for an answer when it comes to her. He’s determined to make her his even if he has to bend the rules a little at first.
Chapter Summary: Harry brings Y/n with him on his European tour but when Y/n decides she needs a break to figure things out Harry is beside himself. He's sure she's going to break up with him but she's sure he doesn't want the same things she does. When they finally talk will they both be on the same page?
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, dom/sub dynamic, angst, DDlg kink,
Word Count: 12.5k
Commissioned by @cinnamonone (thank you!! xoxo)
A Balancing Act Masterlist
A balancing act requires soft poise and harmonious alignment. The joining of differing needs and wants to acquiesce for a perfect, or nearly perfect outcome. One can’t have more than the other. All sides must be used to make a point. The leveling of opinion and decision coupled with the desire to satisfy the ideal effect.
“Put that down. It doesn’t do any good.”
Y/n looked up at Harry who’d placed his palm over her phone to cover her screen. She was trying not to obsess about the pictures of herself. There were so many. And now that she’d been seeing Harry for a few months and was on tour with him in Europe, the gossip abounded. It was wild how quickly everyone learned her name, her age, the fact that she had been married, where her art pieces were showing, and even what kind of car she drove. It was… a lot.
“I know but they’ve caught me in the worst outfit and angle and these comments-“
“Please don’t do that,” Harry spoke as he sat down next to her and slid the phone from her hands, “You’re a knockout. I’ve never once looked at you and thought otherwise. None of that matters. Okay? It’s us. You and me.”
She nodded as he pulled her into his side and kissed the top of her head, “I know. But still. I’m just not used to any attention. Not like this.”
“The best thing you can do is to ignore it and don’t look at the articles.”
But of course, that was easier said than done. Going to Europe with him had been a whirlwind. So many fans and friends and his family, day trips, flights, drivers, shopping, studio sessions, meetings, rushing, concerts, flowers, kissing, late-night talking, falling deeper for the man, and sex. There was a lot of sex.
It was stressful. It was fun, though, too. And she enjoyed spending time with Harry in his world but there was very little time for herself in her own world. She didn’t put paint, or ink on canvas the entire time she was with Harry in Europe. She never found the time, even though she had downtime, her inspiration waned. When Harry was in the studio writing, jamming, and making music she didn’t normally go. In fact, after going with him only twice she realized how awkward it was for her to be there. He was working with his band and his team. She was of no use there with him. She felt like she was just in the way. And she didn’t want to be the kind of girlfriend that followed him around like a puppy everywhere.
So she stayed in the hotel or in the villa or wherever they were staying depending on the leg of the trip. She’d venture out to go to cafes by herself, do some shopping, or just to walk around but it became a game of dodging people on the street who started to recognize her. Pictures and videos were taken without her consent. Later she’d see some of the photos in gossip articles and comments saying how she called the paps on herself because why on earth would anyone want a photo of her?
The hate came quickly. The vitriol for a woman that no one knew. Her social media accounts were stalked, screenshots taken and posted on other social media accounts about her and her art and what kind of person she might be based on old posts she’d long forgotten.
One old post on Instagram was of her out on her bachelorette party before she was married. It was a series of six photos. She was wearing something a little bit skimpy, but nothing too crazy. Most of the pictures showed her with a drink in hand, one of her dancing with some man she didn’t know, and the last one was of her the next morning with mangled hair and smeared makeup, a mimosa raised upward, and the words printed over the photo ‘hair of the dog’.
That one got a lot of attention. She was an alcoholic party girl, too fat to be wearing something so revealing, ugly, a slut (for dancing with a man), and the worst insult was “no wonder her ex divorced her”.
Yes, Harry’s fans learned that she had been married. Some knew that her husband had died (she wasn’t sure how they knew). But most assumed she was divorced because she didn’t post publicly about the tragic loss she endured. It was no one’s business, but for people who didn’t know her to make wild assumptions about what had occurred in her marriage was the most hurtful.
But on the other side of that were the fans that simply refused to believe he could be dating Y/n. Many were convinced Harry was either already in a relationship with an ex-band member from his boyband days or it was all for public relations. That her “team” and his “team” were in on something together for publicity. Because that would be the only explanation. Harry would never stoop so low as to date someone like Y/n. Someone who looked like Y/n. Couldn’t be. The Harry “they knew” would never.
Then of course there were those that thought she was simply using Harry’s fame to boost her own popularity in the art world. She was a leech, a sneak, conniving… It all hurt. She wasn’t sure she could stomach much more. And yes, it was true that interest in her art was boosted. Which she really didn’t like because it was more to the fact that “this is a piece of art painted by Harry Style’s girlfriend” rather than a painting that was pleasing to the eye and worth the price tag.
And Harry’s late nights at the studio and after a concert were tiresome. She had been catapulted into this strange reality with a famous man that she felt herself falling for. But how did she fit in with it all? She couldn’t see herself finding her place with him. It all felt very temporary. And the fact that she’d lost the inspiration to create herself was troublesome. The plan was that she could still paint and travel with him and they’d get to be together. She didn’t have to stay home to paint. It was supposed to be easy. But it wasn’t.
But as awful as all that was, she and Harry got closer. He’d arrive late to their bed, crawling over her and wrapping her up in his arms. Normally she’d wake up and nuzzle into him and sigh as they both fell asleep. Sometimes Harry wasn’t ready to go to sleep and he was very persuasive. If he wanted her, well, he had her. She looked forward to, with impatience, having sex with Harry.
Harry had changed her entire view on sex. It was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Prior to Harry, sex was just sex. It was usually good. Sometimes she’d orgasm. But with Harry, it wasn’t just sex. It was the joining of two separate beings in an act that was vulnerable, exciting, novel, and made Y/n’s heart thrash about in her chest from nerves and thrill. She hadn’t realized how addicted she’d become to what he did. How he handled her body and her mind.
Usually, though, she and Harry had sex during the day. With the sun in the sky, curtains open, and people milling about. She had always been used to nighttime, lights out, on her marital bed sex. Harry liked to have sex anywhere. And he liked to see it all. All of her bits. He’d kiss and praise and then spank her if she tried to hide herself. They had fun together. Sex hadn’t ever been so fun. And she slowly started to see her body in a different light.
After his last show in Paris, she went to his dressing room, like she always did after a show, and he scooped her into his arms and kissed her broadly on the lips in front of everyone. He was hard.
A small gasp fell from her lips as she craned her neck back to look up at him in surprise. He only winked down at her, swiftly turned her around, and placed his hands on her shoulders. He was literally using her body to block his erection from view of his bandmates and the event staff.
When Mitch and Sarah finally made their way to their shared dressing room Harry told his assistant he didn’t need help and dragged her to his big couch after locking the door.
“Need you to take your panties off right now,” Harry spoke as he unbuttoned his pants and kept his eyes on her.
Y/n was wearing a cute maxi dress that was comfy and easy to dance in. She learned that she needed to wear clothes that were comfortable at Harry’s concerts because there was lots of dancing. But she also wanted to look cute because there was never a shortage of photos of her, no matter how much she hated that part. And if she wasn’t dancing she was a fake, a bad girlfriend, a fat blob. Oh, but of course, even if she did dance then that meant she was trying too hard, making herself look ridiculous, and then there was the odd comment about how she was too large to be attempting to dance at all.
She pushed those thoughts down as she lifted the bottom of her dress upward and slid her panties down her legs as Harry pulled a small belt with a ball at the center out of his bag. His pants were undone but his underwear was bulging at the crotch, his cock pressing outward with strain. He stood over her where she was sat on the couch and took her panties from her hands and then motioned for her to turn around, “Face the wall, get on your knees.”
“Harry what are you-“ her words turned into a yelp as he smacked her bottom.
“Do you fucking never learn?” He leaned in and spoke quietly, his voice deep and dark, “You’ll be getting paddled tonight for that mistake. Address me properly.”
Cursing under her breath she squeezed her eyes closed. She didn’t know what it was that didn’t allow her to so easily fall into just calling him Daddy like he wanted. She needed lots of reminders and her bruised bottom was proof of all of her forgetful little moments.
Part of her secretly loved it. Enjoyed the thrill of needing to be corrected and not simply giving in to him all the time.
“Sorry. Daddy. What are you doing?” Her tone clearly sardonic.
Harry raised his brows and shook his head, ignoring her mouthiness, “I’m going to fuck you against the couch and gag you so no one hears you. Now, turn around pretty girl.”
She pulled herself to her knees and turned so her palms were clutching the leather at the top of the couch and immediately felt Harry’s hands pulling her dress up so her bum was fully exposed and issued another sharp swat to her left side. She jolted in shock before turning to watch Harry behind her.
Harry brought his hands up, her panties in hand, and swiftly pulled the material over her eyes, tying the sides to the back of her head to keep it in place.
“Uh, those are expensive! You’ll stretch them!” She countered as the material hung over her sight.
Harry chuckled darkly and she felt his lips at her ear, “Who bought them for you, baby? I’ll buy you more. Don’t worry about it. Now, keep that mouth open.”
She opened her mouth quickly and felt the silicon ball take its place in her mouth, as he adjusted the buckle to the back of her head. She was unable to see or speak as she was pushed forward, her chest being pressed into the couch. Her bottom was still uncovered and she felt the cool air of the dressing room on her skin as Harry gently caressed her flesh down to where her legs were bent at her knees and over the backs of her calves and ankles before spreading her legs further apart.
“Keep your hands on the wall behind the couch, like this,” Harry moved his palms over her arms until he reached her wrists and pulled her arms out so she kept her hands flat on the wall, causing her back to arch the slightest.
“Good girl. So hot. Unbelievable baby. Daddy’s gonna have a taste now.”
She couldn’t see much or speak at all but she could certainly hear and feel. And the moment Harry’s tongue licked up through her crease her mind shifted into another gear. Harry had eaten her out in this position before. Behind her, his nose at her bum. At first, it gave her a lot of hesitancy, worried she smelled or tasted odd. But he always insisted she was delicious and he could eat her for dinner every night for the rest of his life. His reassurances had her at ease, but it still always gave her pause.
Harry moaned into her pussy as he licked and kissed. His hands were on her ass, spreading her apart as he softly licked, licked, licked… wet and hot from clit to ass, from clit to ass, clit to ass… He spat over her and stuffed two fingers into her cunt and she squealed into the gag, the sound hardly heard in the room. Harry chuffed a laugh at her muffled noises.
Soon she was soppy and achy. Harry noticed how she was pushing herself back into him. That’s where he liked to get her. To the point she was seeking her own pleasure. Where she was so worked up she wanted more.
Harry sat back and stood from the couch and pulled his cock out from his underwear. He pressed his hips into her bottom and brushed his hands over her waist, pushing her dress higher, “Daddy needs his cock milked now. So fucking horny for you, sweet girl.”
She grunted in relief when he pushed into her. It was always a welcome moment. To have his dick inside of her, parting her insides and nudging into her cervix. He was curved in such a way that his wide cock pushed into her front wall on each stroke anytime she was in this position while he was fucking into her.
She kept her hands on the wall as he pounded into her and she steadied herself the best she could but Harry was strong and he always went in with such force that it caused her a good jolt forward on each snap of his hips. Delicious.
When his long fingers wrapped around the front of her neck he squeezed the sides and slowed his plunges, “Wish everyone could hear us. Could hear how filthy your pussy gets when I fuck it. How creamy you are. Wish they could hear how it sounds to have my cock slipping deep into your wet hole.”
Y/n felt her cheeks burn and her head get foggy under the pressure of his fingers on her throat. His thrusts increased again and the couch rocked under them into the paper-thin wall Y/n used to keep herself held up.
A knock at the door and a muffled voice from behind had Harry slowing down but never stopping, “M’busy! Be out in a bit!”
She couldn’t hear whatever was said from behind the door because her ears were ringing. Harry’s cock inside of her gave her tunnel vision. She almost didn’t care if anyone heard at that point. Her body felt so good, her pussy being worked open and split down the middle, her guts rearranged, her ass smacked, throat choked.
“Fans want me out there, but I needed you first didn’t I baby?” Harry’s thrusts were sloppy and harsh as he panted his words, “Daddy wants to fuck his come into you so you’ll be out there with everyone while my sperm drips out of your pussy and down your legs. My dirty little come hole. But that’s what Daddy’s little girl likes, isn’t it? Fuck…” Harry looked down at where he was being gripped by Y/n. Her tight little pussy working its magic on him.
Y/n’s telltale signs were beginning to show. Her thighs were shaking and her back was arching and she was grinding herself onto him each time he’d pull back. She was going to come.
Harry choked out a loud groan into the room, “Fuck! I’m gonna come!”
He reached down to rub her clit just as he began to pour into her pussy. He clenched his teeth and moaned into her ear. With the angle he needed to reach her clit his chest was pressed into her back, his stiff and sharp movements were forceful into her and she felt her own orgasm follow moments later. Thanks to his long fingers that knew just what to do and where to press to get her off.
Drool slid down her chin and to her clavicle as she came. The noise of the couch still creaking under her knees as Harry continued pushing into her increased in sound.
Harry hissed and moaned and kissed the back of her neck as he kept himself stuffed inside of her as she spasmed around him, squeezing his cock of all he had and letting it drain into her. A beautiful symphony of sex in the dressing room.
Harry laughed as he removed the gag and the panties from her face. She had small marks that dug into her skin from the fabric of the panties and the leather of the belt.
“God you’re gorgeous. Gonna go out there with me to meet the fans with my come slipping out of your cunt all night? Hmm?” Harry teased as she straightened her dress out and caught her breath.
And of course, that’s exactly what happened. She walked around and met some fans. Most didn’t know who she was. Some knew her as the girl that had been spending time with Harry. Others joked that she was following him around and that he didn’t want her there.
One pretty young thing, probably still in college, went from having her picture taken with Harry to making a snide remark to Y/n, “I love how you don’t care how you look when you dance.”
To which Y/n replied, “I’m just having fun out there like everyone else,” as she shook her hand (which she hadn’t yet washed after being fucked into oblivion) and felt Harry’s orgasm dripping down her thigh.
There was something so poetic about that moment. The secret that she and Harry shared. The reason why he was 20 minutes late to greeting his fans backstage. And Y/n was the bearer of said secret. Literally, since his come was still inside of her.
And that was just one of many times Harry fucked her in his dressing room. It became a regular thing. He’d gag her to keep her quiet but anyone who stood close enough to the door could hear him moaning and the sounds of skin smacking together and couches rocking. But no one ever said anything. It was Harry’s show after all.
There was one time when they went to an event. The lovely space was packed with people and the table they sat at was mostly Harry’s crew. Jeff and Tom were there and some others. All were people Y/n had gotten to know on some level.
And as per usual, Harry was horny. Y/n had gotten used to his extremely high libido and surprised herself even when she matched him in it. She hadn’t realized she was this way until Harry came along.
She was wearing a custom dress. Nothing like she’d ever had the chance to wear before. She’d worn lovely dresses and her wedding dress, she thought, would have been the nicest article of clothing she’d ever wear. But this dress… this dress was absolutely superior to anything she’d ever laid on her body. She loved it. It fit her so well and flattered her curves and made her feel pretty.
“Want to bend you over this table and spank you so hard right now. Tear this dress off you and make you ride my cock right here at the table,” Harry spoke into her ear as their plates of food were being placed in front of them.
Y/n just smiled and nodded as she listened to him tell her what he wanted to do. That was something she also had started to get used to. He’d do things like this in public and it startled her at first, but after some time she started to enjoy it.
When everyone began eating Harry lowered his hand to her thigh and pulled her dress up. No one could see what he was doing from under the table but Y/n felt it. The material of the dress was slowly lifted until he’d pushed the fabric up enough that he could smooth his palm up between her plush thighs and tickle her pussy with the tips of his fingers.
Y/n let out a gasped laugh and leaned forward before turning to look at Harry in surprise. He only smirked back at her and lifted his brows, “You okay, my dear?”
And Harry usually got his way. If he wanted something he could pretty much always get it. Just like how he wanted her to spread her legs wider so he could have access, she gave it to him. Just like how he wanted to slide two fingers into her cunt, she let him.
To everyone at the table, Harry was holding her thigh. Nothing more. He continued to chat and make jokes as he softly fucked his fingers into Y/n’s pussy.
And the thing about this was that he couldn’t apply much pressure, if any, to her clit, so he fingered her for nearly the entire duration of their dinner. His hand was wet between her legs as he continued slow, meaningful thrusts of his fingers into her.
She was on edge. So absolutely wrecked and worked up that Sarah interrupted the conversation at the table, “Y/n. Are you okay?”
Her chest was rising and falling fast. Harry paused his movements and looked over at his lover and realized, she was indeed a mess. Had barely touched her food when everyone else had just about finished and was panting and sweating. He smiled.
“Oh! Yeah. I… probably should,” she paused to hold back her gasp as Harry pushed his thumb over her clit, “go to the bathroom. Real quick! I’ll be right back!”
Harry was forced to remove his hand from between her thighs and she pushed her skirt down and quickly walked to the hallway where she knew the restrooms were.
Harry excused himself from the table with the excuse to check on her.
Y/n was already rubbing at her clit to make herself come in the stall when Harry barged into the bathroom, “Y/n. Come out, baby. Let me take care of you.”
Her eyes widened and she was quick to walk out of the stall. She needed him badly, “Please, your cock, Daddy,” she said as she lifted her dress and Harry pushed her to lean over the sink and pulled his cock out on her request. He was already hard. Fingering her and feeling her clench around him as she grew wetter and wetter each minute had done him in.
Her panties were ruined. He pushed the drenched material to the side and plunged into her softly as they both moaned, “Rub that pretty little clit for Daddy, baby. Get yourself off.”
It was probably the quickest fuck they’d ever had. Four minutes tops. Y/n was already on fire as her orgasm burst from her core and Harry held her cheeks apart so he could watch his cock, covered in her arousal, slip in and out, in and out until she was coming and shaking and gasping.
White gobs of her come stuck at his base as he continued fucking into her deep and he finally came, filling her to the brim with his come. He pulled out to watch himself drip from her pussy and then pushed himself back in to keep his sperm inside of her where it belonged, “Holy fuck, baby. Your pussy is incredible. Just taking my come like it’s nourishment. Fucking Jesus Christ.”
It felt so good to have Harry inside of her after nearly a half hour of slow, sensual torture with his fingers.
And as they both enjoyed, Y/n dripped of him when they went back to the table to join their friends. No one knew but Harry and Y/n and that was half the fun.
So, yeah, sex with Harry was incredible. Exciting. He never let her feel like she was lacking. He loved using tools on her. Tying her up, clamping her tits and her skin, toys, spanking, spreader bars, cuffs… She’d gotten a taste of what he liked and she loved it all.
And she was pretty sure she loved Harry too. He was the sweetest man. Very attentive and gentle, thoughtful, funny, and honest. But of course, when they were in bed he was dominant and loved to put her in her place but that only added to how much she really liked him. The duality of his nature was exciting to her. And she began to feel more comfortable with her body around him. He never once made her feel bad about her size. He clearly loved every bit of her chub.
So after their whirlwind European trip she was back in Illinois at home and trying to paint while Harry was in LA in the studio working on music and other business endeavors he’d started. They talked every night. She thought the distance would be good for her to focus on her work again but it was like she was blank. Her thoughts were only filled with Harry and what he was doing and the articles with her pictures and comments…
One evening, though, she did have a spark of inspiration. She began sketching out her canvas and mixing colors and finally, after nearly a two-month dry spell, put her brush against the canvas and began to paint. It felt good. She was suddenly struck with the need to create. Hours of building a piece with color and space and lines felt like things had felt before she met Harry.
Her fingers were green and her overalls were splattered and soiled from linseed oil and various hues she’d used on her work when her phone rang. Looking up at the clock she realized it was already 9 pm. Which was the time Harry normally called her every night before he went to the studio (it was 7 pm in LA).
She wiped her hands down her clothes and cursed as she rushed to grab the phone before the call went to voicemail.
It was a Facetime call because of course it was.
“Hello?” She rang out and adjusted the screen so she could see Harry and he could see her. She tried smoothing out her hair and wiping the smudges from her face but there was little she could do to repair her current appearance.
“Hi, baby. I miss you! How are you today?” Harry spoke, his face very close to the phone, and then as he stilled himself and the screen became clear she realized he wasn’t at home. A club perhaps. Maybe someone’s house. Definitely not the studio.
“I’m good. Was just painting a bit. Finally got a spark of creativity tonight. How are you? What are you up to right now?”
Harry sighed and grinned widely, she could tell he seemed a tiny bit tipsy, “I’m at a party and I’ve been telling everyone about you. Wish you were here so you could meet everyone. We’re just chilling, had a couple drinks, then I’m going into the studio in about an hour. Gonna be an all-nighter.”
Y/n nodded and smiled. She wasn’t surprised by any of this. He normally got into the studio late and stayed until 3 or 4 am. He was most creative at that time he told her once.
“Sounds fun. Wish I was there too.”
Just then a young woman nudged into Harry’s shoulder and came in to view on the screen, “Y/n!! It’s you! I’ve heard so much about you!”
She was clearly also tipsy. And just as she was about to respond to the mystery woman she watched as the girl threw her arm over Harry’s shoulder and licked her pink tongue up his neck before kissing it. And it wasn’t just a peck of a kiss. It was quite sensual in fact. As if she were trying to give him a hickey.
Harry laughed and pushed at the girl, prying her arm from him and the girl waved her hand at the video just before moving elsewhere.
“Sorry, Jess is clingy tonight,” Harry smiled and licked his lips.
“Oh is she? Has she been trying to give you a hickey all night then?” Y/n couldn’t help the bit of jealousy that coursed through her. She figured at that point she could trust him. He was a big flirt and she knew this about him. He gave off the wrong impression to people all the time. She’d seen women trying to shoot their shot and he would eventually have them back off but many of them never assumed he was in a relationship. She’d even overhead some women (when she was backstage after concerts) bragging about how they kissed Harry or how they thought they had a shot because he'd been staring at them, which turned out to not be true of course. But it didn’t make the sting feel better.
“No. No, of course not, baby. I wouldn’t let her do that. Only you’re allowed to mark me up.”
“But she’s allowed to lick you and kiss you?”
Harry paused and suddenly the screen was blurry as he appeared to moving through the space to somewhere different.
“Wait, hold on, Y/n.” The screen went dark but she could hear shuffling and some voices until the video showed his handsome face again but now he was outside.
“Please, baby. That was not… she’s been flirting with me a little but it’s all in fun. She’s just a friend. I would never do anything to ruin what you and I have. You know that. God, I wish you were closer so I could tell you in person and see you after the studio. Wake up to you, make love to you…” he trailed off as he spoke but kept his eyes on the screen, his face set in defeat.
“I know how you are, Harry. So I get it. But doing that right in front of me? Kind of tacky. Was she trying to make me jealous? If so, I’d say she’s not a friend.”
Harry groaned and leaned his back to a bench and nodded, “I’ll stay away from Jess. She’s just been finding me all night. I mean, I’ve known her for years so… but you’re right. Sorry.”
Y/n nodded and flattened her lips together. She really hated this. Hated feeling jealous when she figured it wasn’t necessary, hated not being with him, hated how famous he was and how everyone wanted him…
After his call with Y/n, he was careful to dodge Jess. And he hadn’t really been paying much mind to her to be quite honest. Yes, she’d been kind of all over him but he was used to that. Except now he needed to think about his girlfriend and what she might think and how it could be perceived in public. Not that any of the photos from this particular party would come out to the public – it was exclusive and contracts were signed promising privacy and respect of others.
Jess was a friend of Tommy’s and she was often invited to the parties like this and so Harry had gotten to know her over the years. She was always flirty but the question that Y/n brought up was valid. Was Jess trying to make Y/n jealous? It was inappropriate for her to kiss his neck like that when he thought about it with a clear head. Even if he wasn’t on the phone with his girlfriend, that was too intimate of a gesture to be innocent. He couldn’t allow things like that anymore. Not if he wanted to keep Y/n happy. And he didn’t want those kinds of intimate touches from anyone else these days. He missed his girlfriend.
His studio session was productive. He got a lot of writing done and set some vocals down for recording too. But he was still thinking about Y/n. Thinking about how they got off the phone and he’d apologized and she said she was fine but he knew she might not really be. They were too far apart and the distance was a problem. Harry was used to some distance in relationships. It was part of the package that he came with. But he hated it with Y/n more than ever.
He was in love with her. Deeply and madly. In fact many of the songs he started to write after meeting her had something to do with her in one way or another. He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d dated around and had a couple of serious relationships in the past, but no one left a mark on his heart like Y/n had.
. . .
“I’m feeling like I need her with me all the time. But when I offered to fly her out and have her stay here with me in LA she said she thought the distance would be good. I’m going crazy, Pat. I don’t know if she is starting to think about breaking up with me or what. I don’t want her to leave me. But she’s been so aloof lately.”
Pat shifted her leg to cross over her opposite and listened. The man wouldn’t stop talking about Y/n. Every one of their sessions had been dominated by discussions about his new relationship. Harry was sensitive deep down. He had his shit together and he was many times nonchalant about dating and matters of the heart in public, but Pat knew the truth. He was sweet and his heart was delicate.
“Just let her sus everything, Harry. You can’t push her and you know that. She’s probably going through some growing pains with you. You’re uber-famous and everyone loves you and to her, it probably feels like she’s just your girlfriend who gets a lot of mean things printed about her. It’s very likely overwhelming. Maybe she’s trying to get her head on straight and figure out what’s best for her.”
“But what if she learns that she’s better off without me?”
Pat chuckled, “What if she does? Would you still want to force her to be with you?”
Harry sighed deeply and frowned, “I guess I wouldn’t want to make her do anything she didn’t like. But that’s the thing. I know she and I have something special. When we’re together it’s like everything just makes sense. I don’t want her to let all the awful things people make up about her be how she makes her decision. Because what she and I have is incredible.”
“But you’re seeing this from your point of view. Not hers. Give her space if she needs it. Keep open communication but let her decide what she can handle.”
He didn’t like the idea that Y/n would decide he wasn’t worth it. He’d finally found the one he thought was his soulmate. The one he loved and wanted to be with for the rest of time, but now she was stepping back. Putting more space between them than he liked.
And when he offered to come to her she declined that suggestion as well. Stating it would be better to be apart for a bit. Which indicated to Harry she was done or at least considering that idea. But he couldn’t understand it! How could she be done with him? He was so far from done with her. He’d never want to be “done” with her. He wanted to marry her, have babies with her, take her with him everywhere, curl into her body, and let his skin sink into hers for all eternity.
He partly blamed the night he talked to her when Jess made her unfortunate appearance and partly the fans. Harry loved his fans. He enjoyed interacting with them most of the time. He loved the attention and the enthusiasm they gave him. He loved creating for them. But they were the ultimate cock block if there ever was one. Every relationship he’d tried to maintain while being famous had, in the end, been affected deeply by his fans. Social media was brutal as it was, but when fans got ahold of the articles and posted pictures and got “involved” it only led to awful things. Many times social media stirred the pot but the fans kept the lies and the assumptions (conspiracy theories even) flying and going on for longer than it was necessary. But it’s not like he could just drop his fans. They were what his empire was built on. He wouldn’t be doing what he was doing without them. It was all a balancing act.
“I think I’m gonna go see her. Just to talk face-to-face. I can’t go on not knowing what’s really happening and doing it over the phone is not giving me the whole picture.”
“Harry… I think it would be wise to keep her wishes in mind. You are a convincing and charismatic man and so for you to go to her in person could interrupt her rational critique. You could just be doing more harm to the relationship this way. It would be a hindrance more than anything. You might just be prolonging the inevitable and don’t you think it’s better to let things take their course naturally? You don’t always have to make all the moves and sway the outcome. This isn’t a business. This is love and relationship stuff. It doesn’t follow the same rules.”
. . .
Y/n had been feeling pretty good. Her mind was clear and her inspiration was at an all-time high. It had been a month since she’d seen Harry in person but they still spoke almost every night. She still loved him. She missed him, but the time apart felt necessary. Felt like she could grasp reality again.
But one thing was certain with the distance. It was that she couldn’t take not seeing him and touching him. She was thriving, but she was beginning to miss him more than she thought she would. Instead of getting easier, it got harder. Her nights would be spent thinking of him, what it would be like living with him, kissing him, marriage, babies… But she wasn’t sure if he was feeling like they were headed in that direction. Because if he didn’t feel like any of that was in their future then the relationship should be stopped. It couldn’t continue to jog along on the same path that it had been. They needed to progress and she needed to know he was committed to her and that he felt the same way. But as it was, their relationship was very good, it just wasn’t the kind of relationship that felt like it could move beyond what it was. She needed to tell him and be honest about what she wanted. Marriage, babies, 100% commitment… But what would happen once she told him all of this? Would he run for the hills? It could very well be the end of them.
. . .
She had insisted that he not come to the gallery where her work was displayed. It was in New York City and he begged to come. He told her he would take some time off before the next leg of his tour began. Told her that he had a beautiful spot he always stayed at and she could be with him and he’d take her out to his favorite restaurant in the city… but she said no. And Pat told him to listen to her.
Which was hard for him. Harry didn’t like being told no, and normally, no didn’t matter much (of course depending on the situation). Normally, he’d just go anyway and surprise her and dote on her, and in his mind, she’d be so happy and they’d have amazing sex and things would go back to how they were before she pushed for distance. But that’s not how it went.
Instead, she had a weekend in New York City without him. They spoke every night and she told him everything and he pleaded with her some more to let him come to her but she still said no.
On Sunday when they got off the phone Harry was beside himself. She had been too busy to really talk. She was getting on a flight to go back home so he understood why but that didn’t mean he was okay. He cried. He felt his heart drop and felt her slip away. She didn’t want to see him, she didn’t want his support, and she wouldn’t go to see him either… so what was left?
He’d been good and paying attention to, heeding Pat’s advice. He knew she was right. He knew he couldn’t force her hand in this. But God did it hurt. If only she’d let him visit her she’d see how good they were together. Nothing else mattered.
But he needed to know what she wanted. Because it didn’t feel like she wanted the same thing. They needed to talk, face-to-face, and he needed her to be direct. To rip off the band-aid once and for all. Then he could begin to heal and try to get over her.
When she called him the following day it was unexpected because it was much earlier than they usually had their calls and it was just a call, not a Facetime chat.
“Hi. How are you?”
Harry had had a lump in his throat for the last few days with his thoughts about her. About how she was going to end it. About how she didn’t really want to put in the effort to be with him. That he wasn’t worth it. That his fame and his fans were too much.
“I’m good. You’re calling a bit early. What’s going on?”
“I just had some really good news! A curator bought ten of my paintings and will be hosting an exhibit at David Kordansky and I’ve been invited to go as a guest of honor of sorts, amongst the other artists! It’s going to be all these big names. Oh my god, I’m so excited!”
Harry smiled widely, “Baby, I’m so proud of you. When is the exhibit?”
“It’s next weekend! And you know David Kordansky, right?”
“Uh… no. Sorry. Should I?”
Y/n giggled into the phone, “Oh… it’s just one of the biggest and most popular galleries in Los Angeles.”
Harry’s eyes went wide, “Here? You’re coming here?”
“Yes! God, I’m so excited! You’re the first person I’ve told and I just got the news right before calling you. So, I’m still processing it all. But yeah! And a bonus is that maybe you can come! If you want. If you can!”
“Absolutely. I’ll tell everyone I’m booked next weekend. Spending it with my girl.”
She sighed into the receiver with a big grin on her face, “I can’t wait to see you, Harry.”
. . .
Y/n was properly nervous. She had been trying to keep her distance from Harry but it had sort of backfired. She wanted to feel out the situation without his influencing nature and his hot body, and those pink lips pecking at her, his deep voice luring her to see it his way. The longer she was away the more she realized that she could barely breathe without him. She was so far gone for the guy that the distance only made her ache. Yes, she got a bit of her creative spark back, but she felt like that was more of an internal issue than it was to do with Harry.
But her nerves weren’t because she was going to see him after over a month. The nerves were because she needed to confront him with her real feelings and find out if he was on the same page. She had to know once and for all what he wanted. And if any of her ideas of where the relationship should head weren’t on Harry’s radar, well, it had to be over. They couldn’t continue like they were. It was perpetual limbo. Purgatory. She loved him and if she were younger with more time to spare she’d enjoy traveling with Harry and just having fun without expectation of where their final destination would land them. But as it was, she wanted to start having babies in the next few years. And if Harry didn’t then she’d need to start over and begin dating around. And that takes time. So she needed to get a move on. Find someone that wanted the same things she did. If that wasn’t Harry.
She had planned for the worst. All the scenarios in her mind led to them breaking up. She couldn’t imagine that Harry would be willing to settle down with her. He had the whole world at his fingertips. And she was just a girl from the Midwest. She really didn’t imagine that they had much more left to pick at. The pages stopped turning. The well had run dry. It was fun while it lasted.
Harry had his driver take him to the airport to pick her up. She told Harry she could just take a taxi but he didn’t want to miss a single moment with her. Wanted to see her the second she arrived in LA. And he was there. Waiting for her just as he said he would.
He scooped her into his arms and felt tears prick at his eyes, “Oh my god. Y/n… I missed you so much.”
She felt her heart swell and lurch with his arms around her and his lips on her forehead. Right in front of everyone in the airport. Photos were snapped and Harry didn’t care. He looked down at her and she noticed his eyes were glossy, “Harry…” she thumbed at his cheek, “Are you okay?”
Harry sniffed and the tip of his nose was red as he nodded, “I am now.”
She’d been to his house before they went away to Europe. They spent two days having sex and just staying in enjoying one another. Those two days were her favorite memories with Harry. Not that she hadn’t absolutely enjoyed everything else they’d done together and where they spent their time but there was something really special about being in his lovely home doing nothing with him and eating some of the best food she’d ever had (a combination of Harry’s cooking, delivery from some of the best restaurants in LA, and leftovers from a fancy catered party that Harry skipped but had requested two large bags full of yummies dropped off for them).
And the moment Harry had her in his house this time around, they were tearing clothes off and making love on his big bed. Harry didn’t bother with the clamps or ties or the belt this time. He just wanted her. Wanted to show her himself and how much he loved her. In fact, he planned on telling her he loved her soon. He needed her to know how he felt.
And the irony of it all was that Y/n was thinking the same thing. She wanted to tell him how she felt. He needed to know the truth and she needed to know where he stood. But they were both hesitating and it didn’t come out quite the way they intended.
“I think we should talk a little, Harry. I’ve had something on my mind for a bit. It’s… kind of important.”
They were both still naked lying on his bed when she blurted it out. Harry felt his stomach drop. He’d been constantly on edge that she was going to break up with him and he didn’t know if his heart could handle it.
So instead of talking he sat up quickly and got off the bed, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s talk. Um, I need to take a shower first… and then uh… we can talk. Yeah.”
Harry cried in the shower. Preparing himself for the worst. Trying to get his emotions out and let his body soak in the warm water and calming scent of his shampoo. He was a mess. And he assumed it was over.
And to Y/n, him hopping out of bed like that and running off when she said they should talk, that move was his answer. He didn’t want to talk. He didn’t want to hear her truth. He had no intention of being committed or serious with her. He only wanted sex and fun. And that was great, but she was closing in on 30 and it was time to settle down and find love. And it was clear to her now, that Harry didn’t want that. Or at least not in the way she did.
She paced in his bedroom for a bit after dressing herself but when he was still showering, twenty minutes later she went downstairs and paced in his living room. She saw a bouquet of flowers near the front door at the table with a card in it and she automatically plucked the card out to read. It hadn’t occurred to her that she would be reading anything that could upset her. But she was caught off guard by the message.
“Let’s get dinner tonight, H. I miss you endlessly. Love – O”
She flipped the card over and there was nothing on the back except the name of the florist. No date anywhere. She didn’t know when these were delivered or if he’d had dinner with his ex. Her heart sank and her stomach felt heavy.
She slowly made her way back up the stairs and realized the shower was off. Harry was done. She found him standing on his balcony looking out over his garden. He hadn’t even bothered to find her. To see what she wanted to talk about that she said was important. He clearly didn’t care.
He took a 35-minute shower and then went out to chill on his balcony.
She considered just leaving without a word. Just calling an Uber and leaving for good. Getting a hotel room and forgetting about it all.
But now she was pissed.
She opened the balcony door and Harry was startled when he heard her approaching.
She laughed as she shook her head, “Forget I was even here huh?”
Harry scrunched his brows and shook his head but before he could respond she continued, “That’s okay. I get it. You and I aren’t on the same page. You’re having fun and you’re free and getting invited out to dinner with your ex, and-“
“Wait! What? I don’t-“
Y/n put her hand up, “You heard me. It’s okay. We never made any sort of promises or real commitments. Never said we’d wind up married or together in the end. You’re at your best and you deserve fame and fun and freedom. I’m only holding you back.”
Harry put his hands on her shoulders and shook his head, “No. Y/n… this was what I was worried about that you were-”
“That I want a real relationship? I’m almost 30. I can’t be playing around and traveling the world when I don’t know what you even want. And you just made it clear how disinterested in my concerns you really are-“
“Y/n. Please. What are you-“
“Stop. All you do is tell me what I should think and what I should do. You’re too… you pressure me to see things your way and you never listen. So now you listen to me.” She swallowed to gain her composure and looked up at him squarely so he understood how serious she was, “I can see now clearly, you have no interest in making a family with me. In being with me. You’re just having some fun. And that’s okay. But our fun has come to an end. I can’t go on like this anymore. I need to find someone who wants what I want. Someone who isn’t stuck on their ex and someone who will tell the whole world about me and not pretend that I’m just someone you hang out with.”
Harry shifted on his feet. He hadn’t expected this. In all the scenarios he ran in his mind she was breaking up with him and she didn’t want to be with him and he wasn’t worth it. But she was saying she wanted commitment. He smiled and opened his mouth but Y/n scoffed.
“See? You’re not even taking this seriously! Here I am telling you I’m breaking up with you and you’re smiling! You couldn’t give a shit!”
Harry’s smile fell from his face, “No I was… You’re breaking up with me? Y/n please-“
She pushed him off of her and backed away, “Go and enjoy dinner with Olivia or whoever. I’m out of here.”
Harry ran after her, “No! You can’t leave me! Please that’s not what happened. I didn’t even see her. And if you’d just listen-“
Y/n stomped her foot and turned to face the tall man. She pointed her finger at this chest, “I’m done listening. We’re done. You broke my heart.”
Harry shook his head and followed behind Y/n the whole way to the front door, pleading with her to stop so they could talk but she continued to cut him off.
“Stop! You don’t get to push me into making a decision anymore. It’s over.”
She gathered up her bags and shakily pulled her phone out to bring up her Uber app to call for a car. She was thankful all of her bags were still near the front door.
She rushed out of the house and Harry felt like he was going mad. She wouldn’t let him talk and explain and tell her that he wanted what she wanted. Every time his mouth opened she yelled for him to stop. Screamed even. Had he been so insufferable that this was how she reacted to him?
So he watched with tears in his eyes and his heart in his hands as she loaded her things into the Uber and left him standing at his gate.
He didn’t know what he would do. What could he do? He needed to let her cool off and then he’d go to her and have a conversation. He’d make her see that they’d been on the same page all along.
He called Mitch to get advice.
Mitch asked him why he hadn’t called Pat instead but Harry insisted his best friend would give him the best and most brutal advice, while also supporting him and wishing him luck. Which is actually what happened.
“Go and surprise her at the gallery. Do something ridiculously dramatic and then declare your love for her to everyone in the room. Something like that. I don’t know man. I think you two will work it out. You’re so good together. I think she just needed some time, ya know.”
Harry sighed, “Pat’s going to hate that. But I’ve got to do it, though, right? Do something absolutely nuts to get her to listen to me.”
. . .
Y/n had the worst, absolutely the most horrible, awful evening. She bawled her eyes out and barely slept. Harry hadn’t even tried reaching out to her. Not that she really wanted that. She half expected it. But it only solidified everything to her. She imagined he probably slept like a baby.
The following day was the exhibit. She was not prepared. Not mentally anyway. Her tears had barely dried by the time she was entering the gallery. She put on a happy face and forced herself to talk and smile. But she only felt the dread of what had happened the day before.
The curator greeted her, bringing a glass of champagne for her to sip, “I’m amazed by your work. I think your collection fits in so nicely here. But you know I’m holding on to all your pieces until one day someone offers me a million each for them,” he laughed and Y/n smiled. She doubted that would ever happen.
The evening should have been amazing. She was meant to have Harry with her and it was supposed to be a big night for her. Something that could potentially change the trajectory of her career. But Y/n wasn’t happy. Her exciting moment was clouded by thoughts of Harry and how she loved him but now it was over.
Through the doorway opposite the entrance was a small bar area. Guests could go get their drinks and then head back into the gallery. But there were a few bar tables and some stools. Y/n had been eyeing it all night. A moment to get away and sit by herself for a while.
The room was darker and quieter, even though it was open to the main gallery. The small high-top tables had four tall, cushioned stools around each. The only person in the bar was the bartender.
“Hi. Can I have a glass of chardonnay?” Y/n leaned into the bar and her eyes settled over the array of colorful bottles lined up behind the young lady who stood at the bar.
The young woman smiled, “Sure. Anything in particular? Would you like to see what I’ve got?”
“Not really. This is going to sound so bad, but just the cheapest one.”
Y/n dug into her small clutch to pull out her phone card and then waited as the young lady poured a glass of Y/n’s cheap glass of wine.
“Your art is excellent. I’m a big fan.” The woman looked over her shoulder as she plumbed the top of the bottle with the cork and placed it back into the small fridge below the counter.
“You know my work?” It was not expected. She didn’t think the bartender would know the artists by their faces alone.
“Yes! Of course. I usually get to know who the artists are that have their pieces here. Yours is outstanding.”
She felt her face get warm from the odd feeling she always got when someone loved her work and recognized her. She still hadn’t gotten used to that feeling yet but she enjoyed it nonetheless.
When she took the glass she thanked the lady for the wine, “And, thank you for the kind words too. That means a lot to me.”
She took a deep breath and sipped her wine in the empty space as she attempted to let her bad mood dissolve. She knew it was impossible to let it go completely. Her wound was so fresh. She’d just gotten her heart broken and that would take some time to grapple with. But she knew she could be okay because she’d dealt with and come through the worst kind of tragic loss anyone can imagine. Losing Robert devastated her. For a very long time. She’d only gotten to a place where she felt she was ready to find love again. And her short time with Harry was nothing in comparison to what she’d suffered. So yeah, she’d been through far worse. She’d be okay.
The music that played in the small space was slow and the tune sounded a lot like an old Foo Fighters song. But it was all instrumental and she couldn’t be sure. She pulled out her cell phone and decided to text her sister. Catch up a bit. Feel something sweet and nostalgic to get her mind off of her sorrows.
She smiled when her sister texted back with a picture of the kids.
She looked up and paused to listen closely to the music playing again. Yeah. It was an instrumental version - definitely Foo Fighters. Everlong. That was the song! She snapped her fingers and smiled again as he looked back at the picture of her nieces.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Y/n. This is for you.” The bartender laid an envelope down on the table. It had her name written on it.
This felt very reminiscent of-
She looked around the room and out into the gallery, where people fitted in lovely outfits and amazing hairstyles milled about, in search of the one person that might have had something to do with this.
She looked back down at the envelope and toward the young lady who had already gone back behind the bar, “Who gave this to you?” She was hesitant to open it.
“Ms. Adams. The gallery’s director. She said it was from a very special guest.”
A very special guest.
She wasted no more time in ripping the top of the envelope open knowing already who it was from.
She braced herself for what she might read on the folded paper inside. Her heart walloped in her chest and she felt her throat go dry as she carefully pulled the paper out and unfolded it.
I’m sorry for the way things happened yesterday. I wanted to tell you so much more. I need you in my life, Y/n. Take a drink in the director’s office with me? Please? - H
She swallowed thickly and placed the paper down on the lacquered wood. The words stared up at her. Very reminiscent of that night. Their first night together.
She decided to take a moment. Finish her glass of wine and find her resolve. She’d see him. Because of course, she would. She’d fallen for the guy and perhaps closure would be good. For both of them. She tried not to get her hopes up.
But even with the idea that she wouldn’t get her hopes up, from the very base of her spine, small bursts of hope began spreading over her back, warming her up and causing the edge of her lip to flick upward the tiniest bit.
She had to stop. She couldn’t allow the butterflies and the warmth to cover her chest. This wasn’t an olive branch. This wasn’t hope. But that was what her body was feeling, the way it reacted after reading his words.
Stop.
She read the note again and the right side of her mouth quirked but she stifled the smile that tried breaking out over her features.
“Uh, hi!” She scooted off her stool and waved at the bartender, “Do you know where the director’s office is by chance?”
The young woman smiled, “Follow me, Ms. Y/n.”
Y/n followed behind the young woman to a doorway at the far end of the room and into a hallway. Framed prints were hung along the wall and the floor was dark wood while the walls were a light cream. A few doors were passed, the bathrooms, a numbered room, until finally, they reached the director’s office.
The woman knocked before turning the knob to open the door and stood back, “Here you are.” She gestured at the open door.
“Thank you.” Y/n wavered in her movements wondering if this was the right thing. Should she entertain this idea? Of course, she was going to entertain this idea, but part of her wanted to keep her tough exterior and remain firm in her decision.
Slowly pushing the door further open, she stepped into the threshold and was met with a quaint office-sized room. The same dark wood floors sprawled below her feet, but the very first thing her eyes landed on was that of Harry holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a soft smile.
She closed the door behind her and stepped in a couple of feet. He was in a well-fitted navy suit and he looked tired. But he was handsome.
The thought quickly hit her. How did he get in here? Who let him use the director’s office? But then, as he ran his ringed fingers through his hair and she saw remnants of chipped nail polish she was reminded of who he was. Not just her lover or her ex. But he was Harry. Everyone knew him or knew of him. Of course, he was allowed in the director’s office.
“Hi, Y/n,” Harry spoke reticently as he held out the bouquet to her.
He wasn’t sure she’d come to him or that she’d want to even talk to him. And he thought about making a grand gesture. Take over the audio system and declare his love publicly before everyone as he walked out into the crowd toward her. Make a scene. Make her listen. Have everyone rooting for them. Rooting for him.
But that wasn’t right. That would have been too pushy. Not fair. This night was about her. If he’d gone about it the way he wanted it would have had all eyes on him.
He knew, though, that he needed to be here with her. To tell her how he really felt and what he wanted and then if she still wanted that with him, still wanted to be with him, they could end the night the way it was meant to be ended. Together.
“Hi, Harry,” Y/n spoke softly, keeping her eyes on his eyes as she took the lovely bouquet full of pink peonies and soft cream roses.
Harry gestured toward the brown Midcentury style couch, “Will you sit with me? I won’t take up much of your time if you don’t want. I just wanted to say some things.”
The couch was large enough for just two people. Harry was glad she had to sit so close to him. He wanted to eat her up she looked so pretty and so sweet. And just the fact that she’d come to him to entertain a conversation had him soaring.
Placing the bouquet down on the glass coffee table, Y/n noticed the bottle of wine and two glasses as he pointed, “Would you like a glass?”
Nodding her head, Harry pulled the cork out and poured her a bit of the red wine. She felt like she should say no just for the fact that she’d only just finished a glass of white wine and surely it would make the red wine taste odd. But ultimately she figured she could use another glass of wine.
“Yesterday I was working up the courage to tell you how I want to be with you for good,” Harry said as he leaned his back into the cushion behind him with his own glass of wine, “Wanted to tell you how serious I am about you. But I thought you were planning on breaking up with me so I needed a minute to figure out how I was going to convince you to stay.”
Y/n’s eyes bounced over his features as she cinched her brows inward. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had he wanted the same thing she did the whole time?
“And I’m so sorry that it seemed to you like I was putting off a serious conversation with you. That’s my fault. I should have stayed there with you in bed and listened to you right off. Even if it meant potentially having you break up with me,” he licked his lips and sighed, “Instead, I did what I normally do and tried and figure out a way to make something work in my favor. So I paused that moment hoping you’d change your mind, or that I could come up with something. Prolonging it for the sake of just holding on to you a little longer.
“It’s because I’m selfish and I like to control the narrative. But that’s never been fair to you. So, I understand if my apology is no good anymore. I just felt like maybe I can tell you what was really happening in my head yesterday. Because that part, you did have wrong.”
Y/n blinked her eyes and nodded, “Well, then… I guess I’m sorry too. Because it sounds like I might have jumped to conclusions. I just didn’t think you’d want something serious. Long term. But there’s more to it than just that you know?”
Harry frowned and shook his head, “What do you mean?”
Y/n could see how timid Harry had been since the moment she walked into the room with him. She felt the need to help assuage him so she turned her body toward his and pulled his hands into hers before speaking, “I mean that I’m getting older and I think it’s time for me to really settle down. For good. I mean…” she breathed out a nervous laugh, “like, babies, marriage… death. All that. That’s what I mean.”
Harry nodded and raised his brows, “Yeah?”
Y/n grinned as Harry’s thumbs ran along the sides of her hands. The corner of his mouth pulled upward. She could see his swagger return in almost an instant. His eye contact was solid and his dimples carved into his cheeks.
“Well, yeah,” she started to feel flustered by his proximity, the way she could see his pupils roaming over her face and watching her mouth, “I’m not saying we need to get married but like,” she swallowed, “I’d like for us to be serious enough to know that we’d be headed that direction if things are good. And I know you’re super famous and that’s why yesterday I just…”
“I want to be with you. I want it all with you.” Harry bowed his head, finally breaking eye contact and his hands tightened around hers, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you were going to break up with me and that I wasn’t going to be worth all the trouble for you. Because I know this is a lot.”
“No. I just thought you wouldn’t want what I wanted and the way you reacted to me telling you I wanted to talk and how you didn’t come to find me after you were done showering… I felt like you were trying to figure out the best way to break it to me- either that or you were trying to avoid me. I just… Thought the worst.”
She couldn’t have described the way her insides were pulsing and expanding and churning. She’d spent the better half of the day reeling over losing him. Over knowing she might not get to look into his eyes in this way again. Might not see the small freckles on his face again and the way he blushed despite being so sure of himself. But here she was sitting with Harry and in under three minutes everything had changed. If she had just listened yesterday. If he had just listened.
“But so did I. That’s why we’re in this mess. I thought you were breaking up with me and so my behavior made you think the worst.”
Y/n smiled and allowed herself to indulge in his eyes and in the grin he was holding back and the way his fingers felt on hers… Was she just dreaming? Was she just about to wake up and realize it had all been a dream?
“Is it okay if I… ?” He pulled at her gently and slowly wrapped his arms around her and she smelled his familiar cologne. She loved how this felt. Hugging him. Feeling his solid body against hers. She eased into his hold and wrapped her own arms around him.
Harry whispered into her ear, “I should have told you everything yesterday. Let you talk and then we wouldn’t have gotten in this mess. It’s me and you, Y/n. Okay? Me and you. That’s what I want.”
Tears of relief and elated joy broke from her waterline and Harry pulled her in tighter, kissing her temple, “I thought you were done with me. I thought you wanted to break up with me,” the anguish in his voice was not missed. He’d been hurting too.
Harry brushed his palm up and down on her back slowly and pressed his lips to the top of her head, “God I was so worried this was it for us. Fuck. I’m not letting you leave me again like you did. I can’t be away from you like that, Y/n.”
Pulling her head back to look up at him she did see the glisten in his eyes from the start of tears. She knew hers matched. It all felt like a dream. But just in case it was real she needed to speak the words. Sliding her hands upward and cupping his face she was nearly trembling from relief and excitement, “I love you, Harry.”
Harry closed his eyes and pressed his forehead into hers, clutching her lovely dress tightly, “God, I love you, Y/n.”
. . .
Stepping into the gallery with all the other people in the room and having Harry by her side felt surreal. Everyone was watching them. She was okay to share this night with him. There was no way around it that people wouldn’t be interested in her because of her boyfriend. She figured that would be something she’d just have to get used to.
Harry squeezed her hand tight and she looked up at him. He looked proud. So important with a big, pleased smile on his lips as he looked down at her.
“You realize you’re coming back home with me after this. Right? And I’m never letting you leave me again.”
Harry had grown a lot as an individual. He still had moments where he could be pushy and use his charm to get the things he wanted, but he figured some things just couldn’t be totally trained out of him. He allowed Y/n to make her own choices. He gave her space when she needed but she came back to him in the end. He wanted her to be his and everything they’d done that had gotten them to where they were currently had worked out. So Harry had no regrets about coming to her on this night.
“Of course, I’m coming home with you. I’d be offended if you assumed otherwise,” she smirked happily. “And I wouldn’t dream of leaving you again.”
Harry couldn’t wait to get her home and make love to her. Seal it all together in finality. He knew that tonight was just the beginning for them.
And as if they could both read one another’s minds they smiled and paused together in time. Everything had finally come together for them. At last.
A/N: This is the last part of this series! Would love your feedback!
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Ugh tumblr is not cooperating with my readmores and art. Oh well we can do it this way. AU masterpost
Say hello to Shackle and Nothing, dark Wind and dark Time :D more art and long descriptions beneath the cut!
Shackle
Shackle is dark Wind.
To me, one of Wind’s core themes is freedom. He goes wherever he wants on his boat (and has fun), he frees a couple girls from the Helmaroc King, and when I think of him, I think of wild blue skies and an endless horizon. He loves life and is one of the most determined heroes.
Shackle, on the other hand, is a bit of a control freak. He doesn't mind not being in charge all the time (he does mind, but he doesn't like to be challenged, and knows that he'd lose any fight for the top place, so he pretends to not care) but he does mind when things don't go his way. If someone or something is annoying him or not listening to him, he will readily use one of the many chains he carries to threaten or restrain. He likes being in control of others, and he likes when people are afraid of him. He keeps fairies nearby, not so much in case of healing, but because he can shake their bottles and listen to them chime in fear.
Shackle is a rather skilled manipulator, and one of the few Darks that look pretty much human, so he's often the one to head excursions into town (Prince is more of a charismatic diplomat, but his powers don't work on whole crowds at a time.) Because of his strength and chains, he's often the one to be on Dire duty, something he doesn’t mind much. Shackle is also very fond of money and luxury. He’ll pinch rupees on anything that doesn't have to do with him, like someone else’s supplies, but he's happy to splurge on himself.
He doesn't have any mystical powers, but he does have enchanted chains that grow and shrink according to his needs. He eats food like any mortal. He's as young as Wind is but is more often successful at bluffing his way into bars and the like. He “jokes” often about earning a couple rupees from selling one of the others—usually Lost or Madness, or Nothing if he's being annoying (a normal occurrence.) Shackle’s ambition is to break free of the others and start a true pirate empire, and the way he wants to do that is by starting a slave trade. That way he can indulge his loves of intimidation and money at the same time.
In terms of design: Shackle is pale to Wind’s tan, a bit beefy to Wind’s young lankiness. He wears red instead of blue, leaning into the pirate aesthetic with sashes and belts and leather and eyeliner. He got a chain tattoo because he thought it was cool. He fears losing everything he has, and some of what he doesn't have.
The only thing that Shackle and Wind would agree on is that Aryll must be protected and lavished with gifts at every opportunity (even though Shackle hasn’t technically met her, yet.) He'd treat her like a princess—as long as she agreed with him about what a princess should be. He isn't a very good listener.
Nothing
Nothing is dark Time. He appears as a petulant child: sharp and angular and half-dead. He takes all of Time’s gremlin tendencies and turns them into cruel pranks and mean-spirited insults. Time is a leader, and Nothing intentionally holds the group back if he can get away with it. Nothing is resentful: he remembers fighting Time, though he, like Agony, is different now—he can think more clearly and has a purpose beyond just being something's guardian.
Nothing gets along best with Madness. He hates being given orders and actively goes the other way unless it was his idea. The group at large only barely puts up with him, but they keep him around for a good reason: he's kind of a genius. He knows dungeons, traps, and gimmicks like nobody’s business. He won't ever give advice on one of Depth’s plans if asked, but they've figured out that if they give Nothing an opening to dunk on someone and hurt one of the Heroes, he'll jump into it and put that genius to work. He's excellent at predicting what the heroes might do, which makes everything just that much more sinister.
On occasion, Nothing will fall into fugues. During these periods, he appears as an older teenager instead of a child, and he's virtually unresponsive. He'll move if prodded. He’ll fight—and fight very well—if told to, but he won't speak, the embodiment of his name. Pretty much everyone finds the contrast rather creepy. These periods don't last long, and soon enough, Nothing is back to his bratty younger self.
Most of all, Nothing wants everything Time has, but if given the option, he wouldn't take Time’s place. He innocently wishes he could be a hero, but he knows he can't be, so he's going to go as far the other direction as possible. He wants to build his own life. But the people around him wouldn't ever let that happen, so Nothing is bitter and lashes out, without any reason not to.
Nothing is designed very much after the Dark Link in Ocarina of Time’s Water Temple, with a few significant tweaks. He is based on young Link instead of the older one, and he is also covered in signs of decay. There are faint red and purple lines like veins on his skin, like corpses that began to decompose underwater, and his tunic and hat show signs of the same. When he appears as a teenager, the decay is even worse. His sword is patterned after the Master Sword, but is just a normal, nonmagical thing.
Nothing is the Hero of Nothing, a sad admittance of his own emptiness and a jab at Time’s forgotten timelines. He wouldn't even know how to seize the opportunity to be a hero of something if it showed up in front of him.
#my art#linked universe#lu z darks au#this is so. cringe.#but whatever#we'll be back to scifi times when i finish these
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On Wuthering Heights and Canto VI (complete)
wow.
move over “Call me Ishmael” line, this is the Canto that most resembles its source book. We’ve got direct quotes! We’ve got scenes playing out like the original, beat for beat! I’m so glad I read Wuthering Heights beforehand, because unlike the previous ones where it just enhanced the experience a little (or even left me unsatisfied that they didn’t adapt certain things), I can’t imagine what it might’ve been like to not know everything in the book.
It’s kind of uncanny, actually, the extent to which things are similar. At the end of part 2 I was thinking about how there could’ve been a universe where the events of the book continued to stay the same if not for Erlking Heathcliff learning about the alternate worlds, and hey, after looking at so many universes of Catherine and Heathcliff making each other miserable, Dante (*edit: I wrote Cathy here first. I forgot it was Dante who saw it) found one where they’re happy together, both as ghosts, which! Is just the end of real actual Wuthering Heights!
We continued to have canon divergence in that way of "what if [character] had done something different?" which is always my favorite, even if some of it was just visions into a timeline where things were different. What if Heathcliff recognized he was just as bad as Hindley when it came to Hareton? What if Heathcliff and Cathy hadn't gone to spy on Thrushcross Grange that night? What if Heathcliff had stayed to listen to the rest of what Cathy had to say?
It's a tragedy, and Erlking Heathcliff, and our Heathcliff, and every other Heathcliff believed that it was the type where he was doomed from the start, because of who he is, and nothing can change that. But Dante knew that no, actually, it's a tragedy because of the choices that were made, and they can't be changed now, but you can change, and that's how you change your fate.
Individual characters
Not surprised Hindley distorted. I think this one had a lot more hate within him than the original
RIP Isabella Linton, I mean Isabella Edgar. She found someone who wasn't Heathcliff and her brother STILL stopped talking to her, and ended up being used by Erlking Heathcliff anyway
Speaking of Linton (Edgar). I don't have much to say because if I'm being honest I don't like him very much and everything he said was kinda overshadowed by his absolutely disgusting death. Catherine saying he looked like a prince out of a fairytale is very interesting considering how much he looks like the Black Swan guys
I'm sad Josephine died. It makes narrative sense but it would’ve been funny if she outlasted everyone else just like in the book
Cathy! There's a lot to say about Cathy but I'm not sure I can be the one to do it. I like her. I'm glad she was fucked up and we got our "everyone sucks here, you're perfect for each other, never involve anyone else in your business" but of course other people are getting involved because this is fucking Wuthering Heights
SPEAKING OF GETTING INVOLVED! NELLY!! I'm sooo glad they gave her the unreliable narrator trait, and managed to put the whole "burning letters" thing in there too. I'm also glad that when she did inevitably betray the team, she stayed exactly the same in personality. It's like she said herself, the happy moments in the past were real. I hope she stops associating with Hermann and goes to do something else with her life. Imagine finding out that in every universe you're wrapped up in Heathcliff and Cathy's bullshit
no Hareton or Catherine II, but Catherine I and Heathcliff did a fine job breaking the cycle themselves, I think.
there's probably more things to say about the Erlking and the Wild Hunt but I'm so tired
#limbus company#project moon#heathcliff#wuthering heights#canto vi spoilers#me post#i have soooo many more thoughts#but they don't really have to do with wuthering heights#meursault continues to be the greatest of all time#yeah
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Fire & Desire
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (mentioned) , Aegon ii Targaryen x reader (wc: 2.2k)
Summary: Many sacrifices have been made to get Aegon on the throne. Including ones made by you
A/N: this had been sitting in my drafts for sooo long. I thought I’d revise it a bit, give me a bit of a break from fool me once. Hope y’all like it 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Sorry if there is lots of typos this was sort of posted on a whim
When Aegon becomes King, it is up to us to guild him in the right direction. To have the ear of your husband is ever important…. That may mean giving things up in return.
The words had been ringing in your head all night. Along with the image of Alicent’s uncomfortable grimace. Your instinct was the ask her what she meant by that; play silly and confused. Easily moldable and docile, the way most people like.
But you know your good mother too well for that. She knows all. You should have seen this moment coming.
The next thing you wanted to do was apologize. Tell her that you do not know how you got yourself in this predicament. But Aegon has never been one to apologize for his indiscretions, so why should you. All you can give her a curt nod.
You know she advices you without any malice. The bolstering hate you sometimes saw in Queen Alicent, the kind you see in all her children in different dosages, had cooled to a melancholy resentment over the years. She’s grown older, a bit wiser. Or maybe she is just tired.
The type of debilitating exhaustion that only women would get. Women forced to do the bidding of those around them.
It was never going to be simple. It is never easy with this family. An heir that is never around, a dead King that was never suited from the job, and a circle of scheming noblemen. Recipe for chaos and destruction.
Alicent does not have the hope to be disappointed anymore. Everything is for survival now. So much has been given up for this, and now comes your time to pay the price. Just like Alicent has.
If she knows, you can assume that means Aegon does too. He is more observant than anyone would give him for.
There are days he looks at you, and you think he can tell what you have been up to. He can look right through you and see what his brother did to you that morning, or late the night before.
Does he wonder where you run off to, the way you did with him at the beginning of your marriage. When there was a blinding and painful need to make it work. If he does know, you are surprised he has not said anything to do… or to Aemond. Aegon’s emotions flow hot and wild. Being on the opposite end of it is a sight. But then he levels off, normally numbs whatever he feels with wine or whores. He is simple in a complicated way.
If he has any inkling about what you have been doing, he has not made it known. You don’t know if that is a relief or if it hurts. None of that Targaryen madness dealt out for his wife.
Your thoughts are broken when he stalks in. Freshly washed, slight bruises on his face, and wrapped in despair.
He does now acknowledge for presence, just climbs into bed after blowing out the few candles on his side of the room. The two of you lay in silence before you feel like you will crawl out of your skin if you do not say anything.
“I will stop seeing him… in that way,” you say into the darkness, voice stronger than you thought it would be. “If that pleases you.”
You turn from your back to your side to face him; you are greeted with a eyeful of silvery hair that seems to glow in the dark. His back facing you, rigid and uncomfortable.
“Aegon, did yo-“
“I heard you the first time,” he sighs, interrupting you.
There is more silence. You continue to stare at his back, till he slowly turns to face you. Even in the dark you can see the frown on his face. The moonlight illuminating him It is like speaking with his mother all over again. Does Alicent look at Aegon and get frightened? To give birth to someone who looks so much like you but disappoints you so deeply must be haunting. A terrible mirror to have.
“I am surprised you are even admitting it,” he mutters.
You decide not to tell him that the admission comes at the behest of his mother. There is no need to add to the list of things that splitter that relationship.
“We are going to need each other, now more than never. I am willing to admit… wrongdoing and repent for it. But we both have to do that for it to work.”
Your tongue feels heavy calling whatever Aemond, and you have wrongdoing. The proper term for it does not come because you don’t know what you two are. Lovers, confidants, prisoners. It’s all the same.
The frown deep softens a bit.
“Aenar is mine.”
It comes out like statement, but you suppose it is meant to be a question. Aenar is all Aegon is best and worst ways. Sweet cherubic features and a rambunctious spirit. They even pout in the same way when they do not get what they want. They are so alike that it stupidly makes you wonder at what age he will let you down. The way his father has before him.
“He is yours,” you whisper. “A tiny terror.”
Aegon lets out a short fit of playful laughter. The affection Aegon has towards the kids is something you were constantly taken aback by. When he was around, and in his right mind, he is electric with them. It made you a bit jealous. You pushed your body to the max, and Aenar follows him like he is a god. A Targaryen God.
“But Valaena…” he trials off bitterly.
You do not answer immediately. While Aemond barely even looked at you by the time you became pregnant with Aenar, things were different by the time you had your little girl. Your relationship with Aemond sweet and syrupy. The glow of intimacy neither of you had experienced before.
“No, she is yours.”
It is easier to say that, her features still soft and indiscernible. You think she is his. You hope for his sake she is. Aegon becomes extra warm around her. Baby talk and soft looks of love.
Perhaps you hope he is for her sake as well. If Aemond thinks Valaena is his daughter, he makes no effort to show it. At first, you thought it was him being smart. Knowing that taking too much of a liking would be suspicious. Then you quickly learned he just has no interest in that part of you. Sometimes you fear he sees that extension of you, your kids, as obstacles instead.
Living and breathing embodiments of the duty you put first.
“You would really stop,” Aegon rips you from his thoughts. “Tell Aemond that it is done?”
His voice lifts intrigued. A different conversation you had with Alicent floats in your mind.
Their want for different things keeps them from expressing their love, but it is there.
“Will you stop fathering flea bottom bastards?”
Aegon scoffs at your question, but nonetheless shuffles closer to you. He smells like lemon and roses.
“This is going to be so bad,” his voice wobbles a bit.
You want to agree, because it will; it is going to be blood spilling amounts of terrible. Instead of expressing that you lean forward too.
It is how the two of you fall asleep. Foreheads pressed together, noses brushing, and slow breathes mangled together.
Is that what having your husband’s ear is like?
You know you are staring, unabashedly and grotesquely.
The only saving grace being that you are not the only one. Everyone in the dragon pit has their gaze on Aegon. Small folk watch on in confusion or admiration. Everyone on the stage hold more somber or stoic faces. Everyone accept Otto that is, who looks as pleased as you have ever seen him.
Alicent’s face is serenely flat. Helaena cannot look at her brother for too long, looking away at times. You do not dare turn to see Aemond’s reaction. Especially not after avoiding him all morning. There was a sinking feeling you got when your lady in waiting told he was outside of the door. Cowardly, you told her to tell him you were occupied. You did not know what to say to him yet.
Now all you can do if stare, and fiddle with the crisp fabric of your mute pink and gardenia dress.
It is terribly quiet in the pit. It only makes the affair even more uneasy.
There is something so devastatingly beautiful about his tear-stained face. You enjoy Aegon like this. Needy, helpless, and metaphorically flat on his back with shock and despair.
When he finally rises, Conqueror’s crown on his head, his eyes darts to everyone on stage. When his large, watery eyes finally get to you, you try to give him an encouraging smile. You are sure it reads more painful than reassuring or comforting. You bow your head expectedly.
King Aegon, Second of His Name. Gods helps you all.
The tides change once he turns to face the crowd. When the cheers start, there goes your meek Aegon. He lifts Blackfyre with a vigor you have never seen from your husband. There is a satisfaction that radiates off him. It’s stunning and terrifying to watch.
Despite everything, your eyes tear themselves away long enough to briefly glance at Aemond. If Aegon’s feeling burn fast and dissipate to light fizzles of hate, then Aemond’s resentment simmers for years, and flares when the flames are fanned.
His eyes never leave his brother’s back. Everyone enraptured by Aegon’s attitude change for different reasons.
The cheers reach their peak, and foolishly you think maybe things will be alright.
Then everything goes black.
This is going to be so bad
It is only in the comfort of his own chambers, where Aemond feels like he can finally let out the breath he has been holding in for days.
His stomach has been in knots for days, waves nausea fluttering in certain moments. It reminds him of after he first lost his eye. He would get such painful headaches that it made sick. 
Now it is not his lack of an eye ailing him, it is you.
He should have known something was wrong when you would not allow him to see you. The necklace was missing too. The sterling silver locket with a sparkling sapphire in the middle of it. You had not taken it off since he gifted it to you… till today.
Aemond knows what it means.
You could barely meet his eye, as if you think your rejection would break him. He would rather gouge his other eye out than give Aegon the satisfaction of that.
The only time you seemed aware of his presence is when you squeezed his arm when they were all face to face with Meleys. The squeeze was surprisingly strong. Though it was not a scared squeeze, it was almost reassuring. You were ready to die. You had told him one night; whispered it in the dark. You knew it would be coming, and sooner than you wanted.
“Of course, we are going to die young,” you smile with little mirth. “Think of family we are in.” 
You had only expressed sadness for your children. That you hope when that time comes someone kind will take care of them and prayed, they would remember you as a gentle mother.
What a way it would’ve been to die at the fire of dragon. You, him, his siblings, and his mother… one big happy family.
Aemond decides not to tell you that sometimes he goes in Valaena’s room and just looks. He waits for the paternal instincts to kick in. One day he expects to look and see flashes of himself. As of now all he sees is your eyes. He supposes that is the next best thing. He already must see his brother, and mini version of him that hides behind your skirts.
He has no desire to take care a child right now, and he is not even sure she is his. But to be bound to you another way would be so lovely. So many parts of him are now yours, and vice versa. What is one more?
Aemond is not mad. He finds the whole idea of a mad Targaryen a bit macabre, even for his taste.
But he sees visions of Aegon sitting the throne with you at his side as queen and thinks it would be ok to see King’s Landing up in flames. Even better if he is the one to light the fire.
He saw the way your demeanor instantly shifted. Tending to hurt small folk, telling guards where to go and what to do. There was not a lick of fear in your eyes when someone addressed you as the queen. In fact, Aemond was sure he saw a flicker of glee run through your eyes. He cannot fault the self-serving side of you. He wishes to devour it the way he wishes to devour every other part of you.
You would have never agreed to marry Aegon if this outcome was not a possibility. Giving up a chance to have your name in the history books as Queen and your son as future heir is not an opportunity you would give up. Certainly not for him. Aemond knows Rhaenyra is coming. If not his half-sister, then his uncle will be plotting and planning. So, he will do what he always does. Sit and wait. One eye firmly on his clever girl.
When the spark is finally set, he hopes you two will burn together.
#Aegon… girl dad?#so true#obsessive Aemond? so true#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon x reader#aegon ii x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aemond targaryen angst#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd imagine
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The Eddie Munson Guide to Dating an Oblivious Jock Part 4
I actually got it up today, holy crap. Today has been so wild I wasn’t sure it was going to happen. Also thank you to @chaoticlovingdreamer and @yellowdevilkitten about the cramps. I am feeling better now.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
*
Part Seven: Hand holding
Once you’ve established that he likes you back, the first step is hand holding. You aren’t necessarily dating at this point. Though you could be. For same sex couples this will have to be discreet and sneaky, but for straight couples this can be used as a way to declare your couple status.
“I hate that you can’t hold hands with Steve in public,” Max said. “It’s stupid.”
Eddie cocked his head ruefully. “It is what it is. Some day it won’t be like this, but for now, we do what we can.”
“Still stupid.”
It was movie night sleepover. It was something that all of them did once in a while. And by them it meant all of them. All thirteen of them. Steve’s basement was perfect for it. They could all stretch out and still have tons of space. Not that they did that. They tended to puppy pile in smaller groups.
El, Max, Erica, and Lucas was one pile. Jonathan, Argyle, and Nancy were another. Mike, Dustin, and Will were another. Which left Eddie, Robin, and Steve as the remaining pile.
But that was a problem for future Eddie. Current Eddie was content on the sofa with Steve sitting next to him, their bodies pressed together in a seem from shoulder to knee.
Robin was on the other side of Steve curled up under his arm and Eddie was fine with sharing at the moment.
The hardest part of the night was deciding on a movie they all wanted to watch. There was always someone that didn’t want to watch whatever it was they decided on. So Eddie and Steve came up with the idea of ranked voting. They would grab five movies and everyone would list them in the order they wanted to watch them in and whichever one got the most votes at number one was the one they watched first.
Tonight they were watching The Dark Crystal. When the beetles came on, chittering above the Skekis Robin flinched and buried her head into his shoulder.
“I thought this was a kids’ show!” she whined to Steve.
“Come on,” Dustin said. “They aren’t that scary. They’re just giant bugs.”
Eddie kicked him in the thigh. “Everybody has different things they’re scared of, we don’t mock people for that.”
“I wasn’t mocking,” Dustin defended. “I just don’t think they’re scary.”
Fizgig started wailing and Eddie jumped back. “What the fuck! Why does it have so many teeth?!” Then a warm hand took his and he looked down at the joined hands and back up to Steve.
“Wait a damn minute!” Max cried. “You’re telling me that the first time you guys held hands Steve initiated it?”
Eddie grinned. “I was so proud. Though, he thought he was just being a good friend at the time. Remember this is oblivious jockus. Even though it was pretty clear he liked me back, he wasn’t reading the signs that I liked him.”
“But he still reached out to you?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
Steve smiled softly at him and Eddie’s heart just melted. Eddie gave Steve’s hand a squeeze, but instead of letting go like he suspected Steve thought he would do, Eddie held on to it for the rest of the movie.
When the movie ended, Eddie wasn’t the only with sniffles from the sacrifices of Kyra and Fizgig.
“But that won’t work,” Dustin said.
“What won’t work, bud?” Eddie asked as he dried his eyes on his sleeve.
“You can’t rebuild an entire race with just two members,” Dustin complained. “Because otherwise you get inbreeding and trust me when I say that’s gross and not just from moral stand point but a medical one, too.”
Max rolled her eyes. “They aren’t trying to rebuild the species. It’s just a love story.”
Dustin grumbled, “Well, it’s a stupid one.”
Eddie and Steve shared a glance and shook their heads.
Steve dislodged himself from Robin, reluctantly letting go of Eddie’s hand. “All right, gremlins, get your bed stuff and set it up downstairs. You don’t have to go to sleep right away but I want you at least in your sleeping bags.”
There was some grumbling from the younger kids but they all packed up and went downstairs, Jonathan and Nancy going down with them to make sure they didn’t start fighting over spots.
The remaining adults started cleaning up the mess that only thirteen people can make.
Robin got bored about half way through and wandered downstairs to see what was happening there.
Argyle tilted his head. “Does she always do that?”
Eddie and Steve looked at each other and shrugged.
“Not always,” Steve said. “Her mind just goes a million miles an hour and sometimes cleaning fulfills that need and other times not. I guess today was a not.”
Argyle nodded sagely. “Do you think she would benefit from the purple flower?”
By now they were aware that that was a brand of weed Argyle had brought over from California.
“She doesn’t like smoking,” Eddie said with a grimace.
Argyle lit up. “Brownies, bro! I bet she’d love my brownies.”
Steve chuckled. “You are more than welcome to ask. Just know she might still say no.”
Argyle smiled his dopey smile. “Never offended by that.”
They finished cleaning and went back downstairs to find that the usual piles were divided differently.
El, Max, and Nancy were doing each other’s nails. While Argyle, Robin and Jonathan were discussing weed in a corner. Mike and Will were snuggled up together as were Erica, Lucas, and Dustin.
“You know I always wondered about that night,” Eddie said. “Why you and Lucas weren’t snuggled up like you usually were.”
Max scoffed and rolled her eyes. “It’s the whole reason for this little guide I’m forcing myself to sit through.”
“What happened?”
She put her head in her hands. “I thought we were on again and he did not.”
“He is an oblivious jock, though right?” Eddie grimaced.
“Yeah, but I didn’t realize how much until that night,” Max said with a small whine of frustration. “He said that it was great how we had remained friends after Vecna and then asked me if I was dating anyone at the time.”
Eddie rubbed his eye. “Are you serious?”
“As Vecna.”
“Ouch.”
“Looks like it’s just you and me, big boy,” Eddie said looking around the room at all the different groups. When Steve didn’t reply, he backtracked, “Unless you want to hang out with Robin and the stoner boys?”
Steve’s head snapped up. “No, no. She looks like she’s having fun. I’d be happy to be your puppy partner.”
Eddie groaned. “Can you not say it like that?”
“Snuggle buddy?” Steve suggested. “Snug bugs? Puddle pals?”
Eddie shoved him playfully. “Knock it off, man.”
“Oh,” Steve said with a wicked gleam. “I see how it is. Maybe I will join one of the other piles. You think Mike will mind if I join him and Will?”
Eddie laughed. “Only if you want to be murdered in your sleep.”
Steve winked. “So I guess that means you’re stuck with me.”
Eddie bit his lip nervously. “I have an idea!” He walked over to the girls.
“Hello, ladies,” he greeted warmly. “May I inquire if you have any black polish among your bounteous plethora of polishes?”
El lit up. “Yes, I have three kinds in fact.” She went digging for them. “I have glitter midnight, death becomes her, and blackest black.”
She held them up for him to see. He looked at each one carefully and chose blackest black.
“Now, my fairest maiden,” Eddie said. “I need a blue for Stevie.”
Steve, Nancy and Max all stared at him in shock.
“You’re going to paint Steve’s nails?” Max asked.
Eddie nodded. “And he’s going to paint mine.”
El giggled. “That’s sooo cute. I have just the color.” She opened a small drawer in her kit and pulled out a sparkling dark blue.
Eddie kissed her forehead. “It’s perfect Supergirl.”
El blushed. “You’re welcome. Have fun.”
Eddie sat down cross-legged from Steve and set the two bottles down between them.
“Can’t have a sleepover without painting your nails and talking about boys,” Eddie said, grinning from ear to ear.
Steve laughed. “All right, Eds. You got me there.”
“I thought I would paint yours first, so you can watch me do it,” Eddie said. “And then you can do mine.”
Steve nodded and let Eddie take his right hand.
“Judd Nelson or Rob Lowe?” Eddie asked, delicately painting the thumb nail first.
“Ooh,” Steve said. “Going straight for the bad boys. Robert Downey Jr.”
Eddie looked up at him and tsked. “Wasn’t an option, but interesting.”
Steve laughed and Eddie swatted him. “Stop moving.”
“Sorry,” Steve said, but he was grinning unrepentantly.
“And people say I’m a menace,” he mumbled under his breath.
Steve leaned in close. “Oh, you absolutely are. But I’ll let you in on a secret. So am I.”
Eddie blushed.
They continued to banter back and forth about their favorite actors and singers.
“You take that back!” Eddie protested.
Steve tapped the back of his hand. “Don’t move!” Eddie stopped struggling. “And I didn’t say it was a bad thing you look like John Bon Jovi, I was just making an observation.”
“His sound,” Eddie murmured, “I wouldn’t even deign to call it music, is trash Steve. Literal trash.”
Steve laughed. “Well there you go, menace. All done.”
Eddie held his hands up and admired them. “Not bad, Stevie. Not bad at all.”
“Not as good as yours,” Steve said softly, ducking his head.
“True, but since this was your first time, you did one hell of a job.”
El came over. “Can I see?”
Steve handed her back her bottles of nail polish and then showed her his hands.
“Eddie did a wonderful job,” she said with a gentle smile. “It makes your hands very pretty.”
“Thanks, El,” he said kissing her cheek.
Eddie showed her his and she nodded. “A couple of mistakes but an easy fix.” She went back over to her kaboodle and got out another bottle and a Q-tip. She scooted back over to Steve and Eddie.
“Here’s what you can do when you accidentally paint outside the nail,” El said and dipped the Q-tip into the bottle.
It smelled horrible. She picked up Eddie’s hand gingerly brushed the sides of the nail where Steve had missed and then it was gone, looking for all the world like Steve hadn’t fucked it up.
Steve picked up the bottle and read the label. “Polish remover?”
El nodded. “It’s great for touch ups or when you want a new color.”
“You’re the best El,” Eddie said with a dimpled grin.
She smiled shyly and went back to Max and Nancy.
And if that night found Eddie and Steve holding hands in their sleep, no one noticed. Or at least cared enough to mention it.
“You smooth mother fucker!” Max said. “It was all an excuse to get Steve to hold your hand for long periods of time!”
Eddie laughed. “It worked, didn’t it?!”
“There is no way Lucas is going to let me paint his nails to hold hands,” she said bitterly.
He shrugged. “So bake bread or make cookies. Something that requires your hands. Like I keep saying, your jock is going to be different, but you find things that work for you.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered darkly. “What happens once he gets use to hand holding?”
Part 5 Part 6
Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @this-is-mycrisis @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @artiststarme @steddie-there @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @thebrazilianatheist @rozzieroos @whalesharksart @mightbeasleep @theotalksalot @avacrebs @sassysleeplord @exhibit-no-restraint @sjullay @thesuninyaface @everywherenothere @nerdsconquerall @persephone13 @wrenisflying @lillemilly
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Let It Snow
Summary: Christmas eve trapped with your least favorite teammate
Warnings: Smut, omegaverse, omega Wanda, dubious consent, oral sex (r receiving), vaginal sex, knotting
A/N: Yes, two smut fics in a row have been omegaverse. No, I do not have a problem.
Event Masterlist
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No one will say it publicly, but being an Avenger comes with a lot of tense and awkward interactions among teammates. You all shared one goal of saving the world and protecting those who needed protecting, not everyone could agree on what that looked like. As if that weren't enough, the different ranks amongst the team made this even worse. Whether it was worth it to fight an enemy convoy to stop a terrorist organization from getting weapons if it meant endangering a local town was a tense argument on its own, having two alphas constantly trying to outperform each other only made it worse. Maybe two omegas would have the misfortune of being on their heat at the same time and were constantly ready to rip each other's heads off for alpha attention.
Sometimes things would get tense behind closed doors and you absolutely hated it. Which is why you chose to suppress yourself as much as you reasonably could. The whole team knew you were an alpha, that much you would be honest about, but you refused to do anything else. They didn't need to know when your rut started or what your real scent was, they just needed to know you were a dependable teammate with the skills to back it up. However, not everyone seemed to appreciate that kindness and general neutrality. Many of the agents talked behind your back and looked down upon you for being so passive, but you simply brushed them off. Most of them were you subordinates and were jealous.
Ignoring petty underlings was easy, but you can't exactly avoid such tensions with teammates. You didn't even want to. It satisfied you more to talk things out and reach understanding, but one Avenger in particular didn't want to talk it out. Wanda had been a little standoffish at first. Pietro, her brother, was much more outgoing. You noticed how Wanda tended to hide behind her brother and tried your best to talk to her directly, but that seemed to be the start of all your problems. The first few conversations you two had were nice and sweet, but after some months Wanda had just turned sour on you. You couldn't figure out why. Everyone could see it. The snarky comments, the eye rolls, and the annoyed groans every time you dared to say a word. You were determined to fix it.
You decided to wait and give Wanda space. The time to talk would come. Either she would approach you or someone would force her to. In a way you were right. After weeks of avoiding her, the two of you were forced to do a mission together. Normally, missions weren't a good time for heartfelt conversations. People in stress may not want to immediately open up and adrenaline makes focusing difficult for most people. However, you and Wanda were stuck in the safe until a snowstorm had passed. If you didn't talk to Wanda immediately, you'd never get the chance to again.
You tried to be as conscious of the situation as possible. Omegas needed to nest more during cold seasons and Wanda couldn't do that thousands of miles away from her room. In a rush to keep her comfortable, you'd given her the master bedroom and just about every pillow and cushion you could find. You'd even gone the extra mile of scenting it to help her relax.
"Hey, Wanda." Your voice was soft when you spoke. It was like approaching a wild beast. There was no telling how she'd respond to you. Sometimes she'd simply scoff and walk away, other times she was liable to just explode and degrade you for something you couldn't understand. "I know we aren't exactly friends — and we don't have to be — but I'm worried this tension is going to affect the mission and I don't want that."
Wanda raised her head from the pile of blankets. For a moment, she just stared at you. It was that same stupid posture you always had. Shoulders relaxed, back straight, and the kindest smile she'd ever seen. It pissed Wanda off how soft you were. So passive and careful about everything. Alphas weren't supposed to be that way. "Maybe if you'd just take charge for once, we wouldn't have any issues."
"I can't just give out orders without some sort of relationship between us. That's just not my style." A frown began to form on your face. "This is a time sensitive mission and it's not going to go well if all you do is huff and roll your eyes when I talk to you." As if you didn't have enough evidence to prove your point, Wanda decided to do exactly what you accused her of. "Okay fine, but if anything goes wrong I'm putting it on your record." Despite your anger, you left as quietly as possible. You couldn't let her get under your skin. Not with so much at stake.
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It seemed being the bigger person wasn't the way to go with Wanda. Though the mission was successful, you were unreasonably stressed the entire time. Wanda barely responded to you and constantly made moves without alerting you. All you wanted to do was go home, but you couldn't even do that. A heavy snowstorm was rolling through the area and take off was impossible.
Fury promised to have you and Wanda back at the tower for Christmas, but that wasn't your concern. You had run out of suppressants and the pills wouldn't last more than a few hours. Meaning you were stuck spending the next three days extremely volatile with the most agitating omega you'd ever met. You had enough self control not to hurt her, but that was the last thing you needed.
Avoiding her seemed easy enough. Wanda had resorted to stress nesting and rarely left her room. That meant you had more than enough time to get food and then alleviate yourself.
Unfortunately, you were your own worst enemy. Sensitivity had made you twice as vocal as usual and Wanda had heard you. Your soft whimpers and desperate pleas to seemingly no one had woken her up in the middle of the night. Wanda ignored you at first but your scent had practically flooded the house. Your shyness had forced her hand.
You were too busy desperately rutting into your own hand to notice that you failed to close your door all the way. It didn't even cross your mind that the presence of another scent meant Wanda was close by. Instead, you focused on chasing an unsatisfying orgasm.
Wanda sighed watching you try to please yourself. "You're so pathetic. Most alphas would've pounced on me, but here you are humping a pillow and using your left hand." Despite her cruel words, she took pity on you. She crawled onto your bed and forced you to lay on your back. "All that hard work and training, but you still need an omega to take care of you."
It was wrong, that much your brain could understand. Wanda had been nothing but cruel and unreasonable to you. You had every right to push her off and yell, but you didn't want to. The feeling of her hand wrapped around your dick was too good. "F-fuck you," You moaned out. Another moan filled the room as Wanda wrapped her mouth around your tip.
"We'll get there, but you have to be patient." Wanda gently squeezed the base of your cock before slipping it inside her mouth. It was like a dream come true. She finally had exposed you for what you really were, submissive and needy. Wanda was irritated by how many people mindlessly praised you for your hard work and determination. She could see right through your little facade. Deep down, you were nothing but a little alpha pup desperately in need of training. "If you don't stop moving, I'll tie you down."
Your hips continued to squirm and cant up despite her warning. No one could be blamed for the hot red magic that wrapped around your waist but yourself. "Please, it feels so good." Everything felt so hot. Wanda managed to take every inch of you in her mouth and you were on the brink of another orgasm. "Wait, fuck, stop!" The second you moved your hands to push Wanda's head up, they were tied together with magic.
Wanda boldly took all your cum down her throat. She swallowed what she could and let the rest dribble down her lips and chin. "Oh, you really needed that, huh?" Her voice had grown husky with lust. A million thoughts ran through her head on what to do with you. "You poor thing. I bet it was so hard acting tough when all you are is a mindless piece of meat." She ignored your upset whines and took off her pajama bottoms.
You could feel the heat radiating from Wanda's cunt. If you hadn't been so desperate and mindless, you would've mouthed off about all the slick dripping from her. You knew better. Wanda was in control and you were entirely at her mercy. If you wanted to cum, you'd be a good alpha and let her do whatever she wanted. "Please, please. It hurts so bad, I need your help."
Wanda smirked. She hovered over your length, dragging the tip up and down her slit. "Hm, fine. You have to promise me something though." It wasn't fair to make promises with the state you were in, but she couldn't help herself. "Promise me you won't let anyone else help you with your rut."
You nodded frantically. "I promise, no one else but you!" You let out a satisfied sigh once Wanda began sliding down your length. She wasted no time riding you. The magic around your waist tightened the second your started squirm again. "Sorry — ah, that feels so good!" Your wrists instinctively tugged at the magical binds keeping your hands together. "I can't hold it! Please, please, please!"
Wanda let out a sharp moan as your knot began stretching her out. "Go ahead, fill me up like a good alpha." Your knot was almost too big for Wanda to take. She had horribly underestimated how long you'd been suppressing yourself and could barely hold all your cum inside. "That's a good alpha, make your omega feel full."
There'd be a number of things you two would have to deal with once you got back to the tower, but neither of you seemed to care. You wanted to feel good and Wanda was determined to claim you.
#wanda maximoff smut#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda x reader#wanda smut#wanda fanfic#wanda maximoff x you#wanda x y/n#wanda x you#wanda maximoff#pvntherz#elizabeth olsen smut#omega!wanda
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What is Voldemort's favorite and least favorite thing about each of his partners?
Sirius: Voldemort would have a very hard time picking one favourite thing. He values Sirius' loyalty, his bravery, his wild nature; he is fascinated by the dual nature of Sirius, how he can be a perfect, well mannered, high society man, yet he can also be a cruel, vicious dog (and not just when he transforms into Padfoot). How Sirius can be kind and selfless one moment, and then turn around and bully someone just because he can. He likes Sirius' sense of humour, and he is blown away by how fearless he is, how reckless, even in the face of death, something Voldemort fears so much. Sirius is the type to live in the moment, make the most of it, something Voldemort never learned how to do. I think what gets to Voldemort the most is that Sirius is, at his core, a good man (at least by Voldemort's standards) but he's not 'stupidly' good or kind, he's not preachy about it, he's not self righteous. Voldemort can experience being around a good man, probably for the first time...ever, but not as 'good' as to hate Voldemort on principle alone. Voldemort is made of darkness, and he's attracted to Sirius' light, and yet he's also in understanding with Sirius' darker side, which allows them to at least have some morals, or lack of morals, in common, enough to have a foundation for a relationship.
His least favourite thing about Sirius is that he cares too much about people that aren't Voldemort, has strong, impossible to break bonds to so many other people.
Albus: Voldemort's favourite thing about Albus is his genius and nerdiness. He is not one to be easily impressed by intelligence, since Voldemort himself is a genius, but Albus is his equal in this regard. Same goes for his magical skill. They truly are equals, and no one else can match them. And they both experience a type of loneliness that only men like them would know, because they are so different from everyone around them, no one can possible relate to such---beings made of big brains and magic.
His least favourite thing about Albus is what he perceives as hypocrisy. That, and Albus' determination to do the right thing, to protect everyone he can.
Gellert: His ambition and willingness to do whatever it takes to get ahead. The 'eyes on the prize' mentality. He's also attracted by Gellert's power and understanding of dark magic.
His least favourite thing is the regret Gellert sometimes exhibits.
Abraxas: he's beautiful and rich, and a young Tom Riddle likes both those things. He's fascinated with Abraxas' inherited status, with the power and influence he carries just because he was born with the right name. Tom hates Abraxas for it, is deeply jealous, but at the same time, having Abraxas is like touching those things himself, in a way. He likes that Abraxas, who could have anyone, who could have a pureblood with a name as ancient as his own, wants no-one Tom Riddle, obsessively so.
He detests Abraxas' cowardice most of all.
Bella: While she's pretty much perfect all around, Voldemort values her unflinching loyalty, her complete devotion to him, her lack of fear and her extreme bravery.
He finds no fault in her.
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Astro observations II
Decided to make a part 2, didn't expect the first one to get more than, like, 50 notes 😅
Based on just my personal experience, might not be true for everyone! ᵔᴗᵔ
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┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Contrary to the stereotypes, I don't think I've ever met a two faced Gemini. They honestly seem pretty cool people, they have so many friends and they just know how to communicate, you know? Their relationship with their partner looks really wholesome to outsiders too (but could be just me viewing it this way, lol). If anything, I think they just stand out more, which makes it a bit more difficult to approach them. 🤷♀️
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Gemini sun girls also have something aesthetic about them, like my cousin has a nice academia aesthetic going on in her life and a classmate from uni has this high-end fashion sense, she looks really pretty everytime (For some reason, when I think of Geminis, I'm envisioning luxury parties with champagne and brands like YSL and Louis Vuitton, that's the vibe I get) ✨
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ People with Sagittarius in their big three (sun, moon, rising) are some of the most outgoing people I know. They have so many connections and, once their schedule allows it, they start planning coffee dates, hangouts with their friends, clubbing etc. A friend of mine can literally NOT stay at home the entire day, he just HAS to go out or meet up with people for at least 2-3 hours. 🏙️
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ To the fellas with Moon opposition Neptune; How do you guys deal with moments in life that don't live up to your expectations? You know, when your imagination goes wild and has a very idealistic scenario of a certain situation, only for it to happen in a much different way and lowkey dissapoints you? Also, do you have dreams that kind of warn you or prepare you for something that will take place in the future? Because I feel like we kind of build our own world and the universe has to remind us that life isn't always perfect, lol 💭
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ My dear Aquarians, why the pessimism? Rather than overthinking everything and imagining the worst scenarios possible, how about you try focusing more on positive things? Even if it's just something small each time, it helps you view your daily life in a better light :)
┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ Speaking of Aquas, I've noticed that most of you guys also don't really like being alone for too long. Sure, you want to have your me time (it's fine, we all do) but you also can't stand not having company around. Like, you'll randomly decide to stay in and spend some time alone but then you'll get upset and start calling your friends and family. A friend of mine cannot stand being alone for too long, even if we spend the whole day together, he hates being home on his own, to the point where he sometimes straight up takes the bus back to his hometown. It's wonderful that you enjoy spending so much time with others (I could never, lolll) but try picking up a hobby when you don't have the chance to be around people as much. It'll kind of distract you from loneliness and give you the chance to have some quality time with yourself 🧩
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Thank you for reading, hope you have a wonderful day 💙
Edit: Bonus Observations
So a lot of you guys commented that Aquarius actually prefers solitude and could easily pass time all by themselves, so I looked into the charts of the social Aquas I know irl and see what it is that makes them so outgoing and talkative;
(I didn't include houses because I haven't gotten to confirm their birth times)
• My friend has Saturn in Gemini, which can make people talkative in any situation (I also have this placement and, although I see myself as an introverted homebody, I am surprisingly pretty chatty and enjoy going out with people that make me happy). Truly, he always gives something to talk about with everyone he knows, sometimes he'll start a conversation with another friend of his while I'm standing there not knowing what to say or do in the meantime, like 🧍♀️?
• He also has Mars in Sagittarius and Jupiter in Leo; energetic, lively and outgoing, thrives when surrounded by people. He almost never gets tired of hanging out with people, my low social battery could never 😅
• Other than her sun, my mom also has Aquarius in her Mercury, which makes her friendly and likeable, plus she enjoys conversing with people.
• Another thing about my mom, her placements are a bit contradictory; She has Sun in Aquarius, Moon in Virgo, and Uranus and Pluto in Libra - These indicate shyness, independence and introversion. Truly, she prefers doing things on her own most of the time and doesn't open up to just anyone. She also used to be very shy around my age (probably because of Virgo moon?). However, she also has Jupiter and Neptune in Sagittarius, which make her more adventurous, outgoing, charming and humorous. So that would probably explain this whole 'outgoing yet independent yet still can't be lonely' vibe she gives me.
Hope this explains a bit better why I had this image of Aquas at first, thanks for sharing your thoughts in the comments!
#astrology#astro notes#astro observations#astrology observations#astrology notes#gemini#gemini placements#sagittarius#sagittarius placements#aquarius#aquarius placements#astrology aspects#moon aspects#neptune aspects#saturn in gemini#mars in sagittarius#jupiter in leo#mercury in aquarius#virgo moon#jupiter in sagittarius#•limi's post•
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Hidden Blessing
Note: A gift for @hyperfixatedfandomer
It's been so long, too long, since Spider has been able to feel the wind against the skin of his face or taste the crisp air in his lungs, that he doesn't bother to hide himself as much as he usually would for moments like this.
When he'd take off his mask and breath.
Years ago he wouldn't have hidden it - his miraculous ability to breath Pandora's air - but that was before the sky people, the humans, returned and turned entire swathes of forest to ash.
If Spider had found out before that, under different circumstances than how he had, he wouldn't have hid it. He would have walked before the entire clan, no exopack in sight but still breathing, to show them the proof that he belonged, that Eywa had blessed him, but that never happened.
It was a stupid decision really, Spider could admit that, to go to the Village just two days after the RDA's return to Pandora, but he was fifteen and scared.
Scared for his friends, his siblings, for himself.
Neytiri had never hidden her hate for him, but she hadn't outright attacked him before that moment. Spider still could remember the wild look in her eyes when she saw him, her bow drawn in seconds and an arrow longer than his arm aimed at his chest.
Spider never forgot what Jake had said to him after he had calmed his wife enough that she withdrew her bow.
"It's best that you leave Spider, and don't come back for a bit. You'll do more harm than good being here right now."
Spider still thinks that those words hurt worse than an arrow to the heart ever would have.
Truthfully, he doesn't really remember what was going through his head when he had done it - taking off the mask he needed to breathe - and Spider doesn't like thinking about it too much.
Push it down, bury it and pray the darkness doesn't fester. Spider's learned how to choke down the pain, self-hatred, and sadness.
Spider is too caught up in the swirling storm that is his mind to hear the sound of approaching footsteps, or to hear the pained gasp, before long four-fingered hands are grasping his arms and big yellow eyes are staring at him in panic.
Neteyam.
"Spider-! Brother-!"
Hearing Neteyam call him brother is a shock to his system, it's been years since Neteyam has called him that. Hell, Neteyam barely acknowledged him since the RDA returned.
Spider only comes back to himself when Neteyam tries to shove the mask back on his face, clearly too panicked to realize that Spider's been breathing fine without it this entire time.
"Stop- Neteyam, stop! I don't need it!"
Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan had many things he regretted in life, and his near death had forced many of those regrets to the forefront of his mind as he healed.
Spider was one of his bigger regrets, or specifically how he treated the boy he once called brother.
Before the weight of being the eldest son of Toruk Makto had been set heavy upon his shoulders; before the words of The People had become too hard to ignore; before his mother's grief had tainted his view of the boy he has known for as long as Neteyam could remember, he had called Spider his brother.
Neteyam would never forget the pain on Spider's face the first time he had called him a demon.
Fear had seized his heart and panic had stolen the air from his lungs when Neteyam had spotted Spider sitting at the far end of the beach, partially hidden by the trees and the shack that Norm had left behind for him, without his mask.
The mask he needed to breathe.
Neteyam had scrambled for Spider's discarded mask, long fingers trembling as he struggled to secure the mask back to his little big brother's face. He had barely heard Spider when he yelled for him to stop.
Spider who was breathing.
Without his mask.
.
.
.
Neteyam can't remember the last time he had been able to look at Spider without the visor of his mask in the way, been able to touch his face, or feel the breath coming out his mouth.
"Hì'i'tsmukan" Little brother.
It wasn't until after Neteyam had scooped Spider into his arms, practically pulling him into his lap as he held him as tight as he could without hurting the human boy, that he realized he was crying.
He could feel Spider breathing; the rise and fall of his chest under Neteyam's hand and the warm puffs of air against his chest, and he couldn't stop the litany of words that spilled from his lips as he praised the Great Mother.
"Nete…"
Neteyam couldn't stop the choked sound that escaped his throat at the old nickname. Kiri, Lo'ak, and Tuk, had always used 'Teyam' for his nickname, but only Spider had ever called him 'Nete' and Eywa did he miss that.
"Ma'tsmukan, ma'tsmukan."
Neteyam knew they would have to return to the village eventually, to tell everyone of the Great Mother's miracle, but for now he just held his brother.
He would never fail his brother again.
#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#spider miles socorro#neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan#neteyam#brothers spider and neteyam#good brother neteyam#not always but he's trying#angst with a happy ending#atwow#atwow angst#this idea woke me up at 7 AM#we need more neteyam and spider content#avatar 2#avatar way of water#avatar the way of water#drabble#fic
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speaking on wuthering heights for a little bit, there is something to be said about how catherine's desire for heathcliff is, in many ways, her desire to be free of the social trappings that defined aristocracy at the time. to her, heathcliff was the embodiment of everything she never could have or be.
firstly, heathcliff was loved by her father in spite of heathcliff's lack of status – in contrast to catherine, who often lost her father's love for simply behaving like heathcliff. her father's last words to her were a lamentation of why she couldn't be "good", and not long before he often literally told her that her lack of being "good" meant he could not love her. it's worth noting that mr. earnshaw died when she was only eight years old. already she was taught that she could not live the life she wanted if she wanted to be loved and provided for.
(funnily enough, mr. earnshaw's favor of heathcliff is cited in text as the source of hindley's abuse towards him. hindley viewed heathcliff's status derogatorily enough to degrade him, primarily in racially motivated ways. mr. earnshaw emotionally abandoned hindley just the same as catherine. neither earnshaw sibling can understand what it was about heathcliff that enamored their father so much, and the two appear to externalize this emotion in opposite directions.)
of course, heathcliff loved her regardless – partially for the rare love she showed him, especially after her father's death. so here was affection from a source that did not judge her personality that was deemed too wild for the world she was born into. heathcliff, the one who received her father's rare affection, extended that acceptance towards her. he was everything she wanted.
despite hindley's attempts to isolate the two from each other, catherine only grew more attached to heathcliff the more she was forced into her assigned role as the lady of the estate. heathcliff in turn struggled with his own assigned role as serving the white aristocracy. through their mutual strife in circumstance, catherine and heathcliff became convinced their souls were one and the same. after all, neither belonged in their predetermined roles.
the two idealize each other's circumstances in their shared pursuit of rebellion through their union. heathcliff wants to gain power, while catherine wants to relinquish responsibility. the difference between the two is that catherine ignores her desire. she chooses to let it go and becomes entrenched in the life she knows she hates. she lives a lie, as was always expected of her, because she recognized she had truly little choice in the matter if she wanted to have a comfortable life.
so, when heathcliff returns, catherine thinks for a while that this means she can have both lives she wants: the comfort of aristocracy, and the freedom embodied in heathcliff, given to her by two men who appear to love her unconditionally. but when she learns that this world is not possible for her to live in, that heathcliff and edgar cannot exist to fulfill her needs in spite of their nigh-unconditional love for her, she dies of (effectively) a broken heart. her heart was broken for the life she would never be able to lead, and the sudden awareness of just how long she would have to lie to herself for the rest of her life with edgar.
i think what i find with some people who agree with this analysis is that sometimes what is left out is how this love was still genuine. catherine may have loved heathcliff merely for what he represented to her, but that love is real and extended to his entire person. she recognized herself in him and wished for the two of their spirits to be combined into one.
attachments can be fraught, ugly, and complicated. but that does not make them any less without merit and recognition. wuthering heights absolutely is a romance as much as it is Romantic (as in, utilizing the existence of love to explore complex sociopolitical themes). that is part of why their love is as captivating as it is even today; they were everything to each other, with every single way that phrase could be loaded.
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Team Green: Sorry your faves are boring 😊🤷♂️ Sure you're supposed to root for the Blacks but the Greens are just more fun. Jace is boring I'm here for my angsty disaster mess 💚
You realise that's bad writing, right? This is a family civil war drama. One side of that family civil war shouldn't be populated with blank slates. If no effort is made into making Rhaenyra and Daemon's children as fleshed out as Alicent's children then that is bad writing.
Some people find the Lannisters more fun than the Starks, but the Starks are still fleshed out characters (and considering in the books Jace is 14/15, Luke is 13, Joffrey, Baela & Rhaena are 12, Aegon the younger is 9 and Viserys is 7 - these kids ages almost map straight onto the Starklings so they were so meant to be our Targlings). It didn't have to be a zero sum "you can only have ONE side that's interesting". The show is poorer for it. Game of Thrones was a disaster in many ways, but at least the different sides of the conflict had equal screen time and attention.
How hard would it have been to flesh out Jace, or at least give him a half-decent haircut? He could have been a mirror to Jon Snow (they technically have the same initials). One is a bastard who does not know he's a targaryen prince, the other is a targaryen prince who discovers he is a bastard. In a world that hates bastards, that insists they are 'wanton and treacherous by nature', there was plenty of potential to explore some complicated emotions, to give weight to how he feels about being a bastard. The whispers that would have followed him, the scrutiny he would have felt, the internalised guilt and shame, his protectiveness over his little brothers and wish to spare them the truth. Maybe after Alicent confronted Aegon over the pig there could have been a shift where Aegon turns his bullying away from Aemond and towards Jace (more in keeping with book canon). Maybe Jace could feel anxious about lessons with Criston Cole due to his open hatred of him. Maybe he could be equal parts devoted to and resentful of his mother over his parentage, maybe he could be driven to perfectionism to prove himself worthy.
The show made Jace more violent in the fight with Aemond than in the book, by changing who started the fight (from Aemond to Rhaena and co.), by narrowing the age gap to make Jace more of a match for Aemond, and by having him draw a knife instead of a wooden toy sword. But they didn't earn that moment. How much more satisfying would it have been if both Aemond and Jace were given equal emotional weight in the build-up to the fight? If the hurt and anxiety at discovering he was a bastard had been building and building until it burst out. The entire reason the show changed the age dynamic between Rhaenyra and Alicent to make them peers and best friends was supposedly to make their conflict more dramatic - why would you then drop that approach with their kids? How does it make the civil war story better if one half of the next generation of characters aren't really characters?
They didn't even have to put much effort into Baela, as GRRM already had her brimming with personality on the page, but they just... ignored that and made her a non-entity. Oh she gets one punch in, and there's a blink and you'll miss it background shot of her trying to hit Aegon (at this point I don't think the actors were even directed to do that I think they just took it upon themselves). Meanwhile Baela in the books is wild and fearless and deliberately provocative and quick to anger and fiercely defensive of her loved ones and wrestles squires in the training yard and has a pet monkey and sneaks out in search of adventure and brings home 'unsuitable' friends. Including a legless beggar, a blacksmith's apprentice whose muscles she admired, a street conjurer, twin prostitutes and an entire troupe of mummers. And she alarms everyone due to being 'overly fond of boys' and gets epic lines like this when it is suggested she marry Lord Rowan:
“I’ve bedded two of his sons. The eldest and thirdborn, I think it was. Not both at once, that would have been improper.”
She could have been an absolutely chaotic presence onscreen. Rhaena meanwhile is a little more like Sansa to Baela's Arya, but would have needed more work to flesh her out onscreen. Her insecurities and wish for a dragon seemed promising at first, but they were dropped as soon as Aemond lost his eye. Because that was ultimately the narrative purpose she served - to provide a new reason for the fight to start that wasn't Aemond hitting and pushing a toddler into a pile of dragon poo. She helps Aemond's image by being the one to start the fight instead of him, and from then on she becomes a voiceless non-entity. We watch Aemond fly away victoriously on Vhagar, we don't see Rhaena tearfully watching the last link to her mother vanish over the horizon.
Considering the prominent role of bastards during the dance (especially the dragonseeds), the uninterest in exploring bastardy in Jace makes little sense. Considering the centrality of gender to the story (and considering a certain event involving key players during the dance), the lack of effort into Baela and Rhaena makes zero sense (the show doesn't even bring up their right to Driftmark in an episode dedicated to discussing the rightful heir to Driftmark).
Considering especially that in fantasy black women are so often consigned to minor Missandei roles, the fact that we were robbed of Baela and Rhaena as main characters particularly stings. Baela in particular was an easy fan favourite in the book, and its a role that black women and girls so rarely get to play. If you had told me before the show that Helaena would be a fan favourite over Baela, I wouldn't have believed it. And don't get me wrong, I like that they fleshed out Helaena in the show, like Rhaena she didn't have much of a presence in the book. But it is so typical that the relative non-entity that they kept white gets to be fleshed out, while the more fleshed out character that they made black becomes a non-entity. And Helaena is skinny now, of course (all love to Phia Saban, but I am mourning plump Helaena).
And don't get me started on Kylo Raemond.
#hotd critical#house of the dragon#team black#team green#pro team black#jacaerys velaryon#baela targaryen#rhaena targaryen#aemond targaryen#helaena targaryen#kylo ren#jace#jon snow#valyrianscrolls#f&b
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Had book club discussion about Carry On today! Here’s some of the highlights:
People were mostly a big fan of the Magic system. Main criticism about it was that it would sometimes take them out of it, like the snickers spell while ebb is actively dying
There was much discussion over Penny and Baz kidnapping the dog, which was very entertaining to me
One of my managers asked if Agatha was in the rest of the series. I told her “she is, but I don’t think she wants to be”
People loved Baz lol. There was a bit less love for Simon (that’s okay, that’s what I’m there for)
I explained the lore behind Fangirl and why the titles are the way they are. Thoroughly confused some people
Someone had to leave the zoom call halfway through because his neighbors called the cops on his van???? Idk that was just wild
One dude who showed up also didn’t even finish the book yet, which I didn’t find out until partway through, so that was fun
They noted some Harry Potter similarities, but agreed it was a very different book
Number one complaint was that “nothing happened”. They were really interested in the politics of the world, how relationships were formed and were pretty disappointed that a lot of that was exposition
One coworker was confused as to why Nico couldn’t do magic anymore, since they mentioned he used to be able to use Ebb’s staff and honestly I don’t remember the answer, so help here would be great if anyone knows. He should be able to even though they snapped his wand, right?
One coworker was frustrated that Simon lost his magic because he thought that was the most interesting part. I told him that he was not alone in that, since I remember so many people being upset back in the day
Everyone saw the plot twist that the Mage was the bad guy coming. Tbh, I read it so long ago that I can’t remember if I was surprised
Everyone also saw snowbaz coming lol. One guy said “I knew by chapter three that those two would be fucking” (oh just you wait my friend. Soon the issue will be that they’re not fucking)
They found it very entertaining that the endorsement was from Lev Grossman because “The Magicians is the polar opposite of this book”
I brought in Skee’s ABC’s of Carry On, Venessa’s art book, the whole series, Fangirl, Scattered Showers, MRB, and various pins from Selkie and others. Also wore my dragon wing earrings and Kris’ shirt :P I let myself be unhinged about it because this is my time to shine. I also have the Wayward Son poster pack at my desk that I pointed out
Overall reviews are positive. Most people didn’t love it quite like I do, but they enjoyed it well enough. I am lovingly forcing two coworkers to finish out the series because they made the mistake of being my friend lol
One guy’s review was “I liked it and I don’t know why. I hate Harry Potter and stuff like it usually.”
Very happy that this is done though, since I can finally hang back up Kris’ Carry On poster. It has too many spoilers, so I’ve had it on the ground hiding for two months for when people came over 😭 it’s going back in its place of honor next to my TV
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