#snow finally posted something woah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aerynwrites · 2 years

Note

Please can I request Viktor x Fem reader in a modern au? Maybe a meet-cute or strangers to lovers? I have a hankering for something in the snow. Perhaps a ski-trip or getting snowed in together somewhere? Idk. My ambiguity is yours!

Okay this is such a cute idea! Sorry it took me a while to get around to it, I hope you enjoy!

Snowy Troubles

Modern!Viktor x Fem!Reader

A/N: finally decided to post this after that little ask game yesterday…so thank you to @zaunitearchives for asking about this piece and giving me the courage to post haha.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: meet-cute, reader literally falling for Viktor, fluff, possibly ooc!Viktor? One use of (y/n), Fun sorta wing man Jayce, fluff.

You should have known better than to try this slope. Sure you’ve been skiing for several months now, but you still felt a little unstable on your feet. But you were determined to get off the beginner slope, something that is now showing itself to be a huge mistake.

The air is frigid around you as you speed down the slope, snow stinging your cheeks as you continue to pick up speed despite trying to slow down. The end of the large hill is approaching and you try to maneuver in a way to slow your momentum, Herat racing as it does little to diminish your speed.

Panic swells in your chest as you focus solely on trying to slow down instead of also paying attention on the direction you’re heading. The end of the slope keeps getting closer and despite finally starting to slow your speed, you realize you’re now pointed straight at two men.

One of them is strapped into a snowboard while the other is standing off to the sidelines, clearly a bystander.

“Watch out!” You call, waving your hands as best as you can with your ski poles in hand. “I can’t stop-woah!”

As if things can’t get any worse, in your haste to warn the two guys you cross your damn skis! With little warning, this action causes you to come to a screeching halt, tumbling forward straight into the bystander.

Your bodies collide with a solid thud, the wind knocked out of you both as you tumble to the snowy ground. Thankfully you manage to do something right and wrap your arms around him and turn to throw yourself to the ground, saving him from being squashed beneath you.

“Viktor!” A deep baritone calls out from above you and your eyes fall to the snowboarder.

He’s frantically trying to unclip from his board as you and, Viktor, start untangling your limbs.

“Oh ny god.” You rush out, looking to the man above you, who’s golden eyes peel open from where they had undoubtedly slammed shut upon impact. “I’m so sorry! I’m such an idiot - here.”

You grasp onto his upper arms, steadying him as he pushes himself off of you. He shakes his head as he braces his arms beside your head on the ground, and you thank the gods above he can’t see your flustered expression below the buff you’re wearing.

“I’m sure you didn’t intend to run into me.” You immediately notice his accent and how the words curl from his lips.

“No, absolute not I just-“ You cringe, ears burning as he finally gets to his knees off to the side of you, allowing you to sit up. “I got a little bit too ambitious,” you say pulling your buff down so they can hear you better.

Finally, the other man is by Viktor’s side, worried eyes dancing over him quickly. “Are you okay?”

Viktor nods. “I am uninjured, my leg is a little sore but…nothing worse than usual.”

Finally the man looks over to you. You expected harsh words or scathing comments but instead he looks concerned for you as well. “What about you? You good?” He reaches out a hand to you, hoisting you to your feet with ease once you untangle your skis.

Nodding, you avoid his eyes as shame eats at your chest. “I’m fine. I’m more worried about Viktor over here,” you say, gesturing to the man who is also being pulled to his feet by his friend. “I really am sorry, I didn’t -“ you sigh, angry at yourself, frustrated that you could have really hurt someone. “I shouldn’t have gone on that slope.”

Your eyes never leave Viktor as he takes a few staggered steps before picking an item up off the ground. An item that you quickly realize to be a cane.

However, Viktor seems to be unbothered by the incident, brushing the snow from his shoulders and hair lazily before adjusting the red scarf around his neck. “It’s okay, truly.” He insists, a thoughtful look coming to his face. “What’s that saying? Eh….no harm no foul.”

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, your shoulders drooping dramatically. “Well, I appreciate it,” you say honestly, turning now to look at the other man. “So, you snowboard?”

At the mention of the sport, he lights up, eyes sparkling. “I do! This is my first time at these slopes though, and it’s been great. I’m actually competing later today, just trying to get in some practice runs since I’m unfamiliar with the area.”

You nod, leaning down to unclip from your skis, glancing over to Viktor as you do so. “And you? I didn’t see any gear.”

He lets out a light laugh, the action making his eyes crinkle at the corners. It strikes you then just how handsome he is. Golden eyes, chestnut hair sticking out adorably in different directions, sharp facial features…

His response cuts off your wandering mind as you stand. He taps his cane against the metal brace around his leg.

“I am not the athletic type,” he jokes, a smile on his face. “I just came to support Jayce during his competition.”

You glance over to the other man and nod. “When’s the comp start?”

Jayce glances down at his arm, tugging up the sleeve of his snow jacket to look at his watch. “In about…2 hours.” He sends you a teasing smile. “You gonna stay and watch?”

Returning his grin you shrug. “Might as well.” You stick your hand out to him and then Viktor once he shakes it. “My name’s (y/n), by the way. Figured you should know the name of the person who plowed you over.”

Both men laugh, and Jayce claps you on the back. “I would ask you to join me on the slope but…”

You wave your hands quickly. “No, no. I think I’m done for the day.” You turn to Viktor, shoving away the butterflies that erupt in your belly as you speak. “There’s a coffee shop inside the lodge. Would you want to go grab a cup while we wait for the comp to start?” You try, and pretty much fail, to hide the hopeful tone in your voice, wanting nothing more than to get to know the man you literally ran into.

Jayce glances at Viktor, and you don’t miss the way he waggles his eyebrows at him. He just huffs, sending you a small smile.

“Coffee and warmth sounds much better than standing out here in the snow. I would love to join you,” he says.

You beam at him, grabbing your skis and poles quickly before starting a slow pace towards the lodge. You weren’t too far, but you could tell Viktor was being careful with his steps.

“Don’t forget to come back and actually watch me compete!” Jayce calls, making both you and Viktor laugh.

The latter waves a hand over his shoulder absentmindedly and Jayce must take that as a response because he doesn’t call after you again. The rest of the short walk to the lodge is comfortably silent, and once inside you pull your jacket hood down and stomp the snow from your boots.

“I’m sorry again for before. It could have been much worse, and I shouldn’t have gone on a slope I wasn’t ready for.” You tell him again, lips tugged downwards.

Viktor shakes his head once more. “No serious injuries occurred,” he points out. “But if you truly want to make it up to me, I won’t refuse a cup of coffee.”

You smile at him, unable to stop the way your heart flutters at his flirting. “I think that’s fair. Let me just go put my gear away in my locker and then I’ll meet you back here in ten.”

He dips his head. “I look forward too it.”

He turns away before he can see the dopey look on your face and you rush away to get your gear put up.

Maybe attempting the slope was a good thing after all.

#arcane viktor x reader #Viktor x reader #arcane x reader #arcane Viktor #arcane #arcane league of legends

199 notes · View notes

seleniancalamity · 7 months

Text

what's that, another AF post? featuring all of the designs i.. for some reason never posted! read below the cut for more info and yes im aware some of these poses are garbage these are once again in my old style i drew these like weeks ago :sob: also the text below is Stupidly long so bear with me

bet you're wondering "gee, steven, where's cyalm/celesteal and voixer?" Welllllllll there's a bit of a problem with those designs and it's called "i might of taken a bit too much inspiration from a different artist's designs and i dont remember said artist's username" and so i'd feel REALLY bad for posting them (which is sad because voixer is my favorite design of literally all the ones i drew)

anyways, some design notes

arrolin was an actual fucking pain to design. red/green is such a difficult color combo to work with. i originally tried adding yellow but a challenge i wanted to do for this artwork is stick as close to the original palettes as much as possible

mino and morward are meant to reflect on each other since morward is meant to just look like mino but Advanced since.. here they're both robots

solgon and naen are married you can't convince me otherwise thats why i gave them rings

(yes i know naen is doing the "you know i had to do it to em" pose)

signol is a deliberate design disaster. i love them. (i also made them genderfluid because i said so)

i made shallare look like the most Guy of All Time with intent he's meant to look like if a normal ass guy was a point

i've already uploaded stratosfear in a different post so i'll probably post my own design for the first star savior later since i dont have any actual art for them besides a low effort sketch

pasless looks like a farmer i'm gonna be real i had no idea how else to incorporate Woah he's the guy that represents The Past (tm) other than make him look like a farmer

yawgate is meant to straight up deadass have a portal in his torso like i just thought it was a sick idea so i did that no i didnt think of the consequences

please ignore compale's shoes. they're meant to have snow shoe spikes but i cannot draw perspective for shit

ploque is best described as having designed to look like he'd work at home depot

ixol is meant to look like they made hawaii part II miracle musical into a personality trait

anshine is just an angel bro idk what else to say about him i made him very angelic looking to contrast stratosfear looking demon-y

ulipse was very fun to draw idk why also i have no idea where i got the inspiration for her design other than just "damn what if i made her more fem presenting because all of the other points are very neutral or masc barring signol"

and finally, staraza! my design for the second star savior! they have no personality atm i just think they're neat i gave them three colors and made them a point because... Well funny story i was on actual AF2 restored and someone said something along the lines of "point star savior ocs are bad" and i was like, internally. "fuck you" and decided to do it out of spite

I'll post a celesteal/cyalm/voixer design eventually but idk if it'll be the one i use personally

Also how the fuck do i tag any of this im just not gonna tag all of the characters i cant be bothered im sorry

#adventure forward #adventure forward 2 #adventure forward 2 points of conflict

13 notes · View notes

deepperplexity · 1 year

Text

Prompt: 6. Sleigh Riding

Pairing: Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second Reader

Setting: The English Countryside

A/N: It’s day six of RICKMAS and today I have a longer fic for you that will be continued tomorrow with a second part! This fic is a bit different from what I usually write, there’s very little of my usual elements but I have so enjoyed spreading my wings and taking on something that is less clearcut and more subdued. I hope you’ll enjoy it! 🥰💚

Tags/TW’s: Societal Differences, Class System, Instant Infatuation, Forbidden Emotions

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

The large basket weighed more than you wished, slamming against your hip with each step along the snow-covered road winding between large trees with a hillside to your right and open meadows just beyond the tree line to your left. It was quite beautiful, and you knew the area well having lived there for nearly two years, February of next year marking the anniversary of your employment with the Billington family.

This winter was harsher than that of the previous year though. More snow, colder temperatures and a ghastly wind in the evenings. On this Tuesday afternoon, the wind had just begun to pick up. It had taken longer at the market, given the numerous people and amount of market stands set up as Christmas loomed close. Not that it mattered much to you, given none would celebrate with you and you were to serve your employer. At the least, I am not out here on the streets, or at the workhouse no more. I am grateful for that.

You tugged your cloak tighter around your throat with your free hand, your breath fogging up the air in swirls. You huffed and kept trekking along the road, your thin shoes providing little protection against the cold as you sank to your ankles in the snow each step of the way.

As you rounded yet another curve the sound of bells reached you, the muted thudding of hooves and spraying snow following a moment after. Oh, by heavens, no, you thought as the sound grew closer from behind. I must give way, and you knew you were about to get even colder.

When you looked over your shoulder a big sleigh approached, pulled by two enormous brown horses with thick black manes. You stepped to the side, sinking down to your knees in snow that partly ended up inside your skirts. You shivered and adjusted the heavy basket on your arm while wondering what it was like to be wealthy enough to have a sleigh. Wishy-washy thinking, my place is travelling on foot. Senseless to think anything other is a possibility. The world is not made for small people to gain wealth or favour.

The sleigh came rushing by and you gasped, your eyes widening as your entire body stiffened from the sudden spraying of powder snow. The sleigh’s runner had hit a hidden mound of it, just where you were stood, of course.

You panted and shook yourself, trying to brush off the snow, when a ‘Woah’ sounded out and the sleigh came to a halt little ways up ahead. You climbed, not too gracefully, out of the snow and tried to shake out your skirt to get rid of the snow that had begun to melt on the damned inside of the two layers of fabric not nearly thick enough to shield you from the growing wind.

“Madam,” said a gentle but rumbling voice and you jolted from its closeness. “Are you alright, miss?” the voice asked as your raised your head. “I a—” He was beautiful. Your voice broke off, your brain faltering at the sight of a straight-backed gentleman with a black tophat and thick brown coat. His cheeks were flushed with pink from the cold and the light brown, nearly golden hair peaking out beneath the hat looked wind-tossed and soft to the touch.

“Miss? I apologize, my coachman did not see the snow mound,” the man continued as he stepped closer but you were unable to find your manners as the man exuding a near regal presence made your heart hammer. “I-, sir,” you finally said and lowered your head, grabbing the basket with both your hands to curtsy before the man clearly far higher in standing than you yourself. “I was in the way, it is I who should apologise,” you continued while keeping your eyes lowered. You were a mere maid, after all.

The crunching of snow sounded out until his black boots shined to perfection appeared before you. “The road is not owned by one, but shared between all, miss,” he said gently and your heart fluttered anew at the delicious sound his voice was. Highly inappropriate, pull yourself together, Y/n! “Now, will you give me your name, miss?” You looked up at that, straightening a bit, for you still had pride. You had worked yourself up from the gutter, all on your own, to be the maid of an upstanding family. “I’m Y/n Y/l/n, sir.”

He straightened even further, your eyes grew wide as the fine china plates Lady Billington adored as he bowed to you, as if you were worthy of such a display. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/l/n. I am Colonel Christopher Brandon,” he said as he looked at you when standing tall once more and you froze. Colonel-, Colonel Brandon?!

“Sir, Colonel Brandon,” you blabbered out and curtsied deeper, “I am so sorry to have interrupted your sleigh ride, sir.” “I believe we sprayed you with snow, miss, not the other way around. And, if you’ll indulge me, I shall offer a ride to your destination, in compensation,” the colonel continued but you shook your head vigorously. It was unheard of, a maid riding in a colonel’s carriage, what would your employer think if you took such liberties? You were unwed, there was no chaperon - not that it would be needed, I’m a maid and he a colonel surely people will not view it in such a manner? Yet still, I cannot, and he’s-, he’s so handsome and kind…

“I thank you for the offer, but it is not appropriate, Colonel.” He arched a brow at you, you felt your cheeks heat from more than the cold under his stare. “And, why would that be, miss?” “Sir, I am but a maid, it would not be fitting for me to ride in a colonel’s sleigh, sir,” you said in a low tone. Barely keeping yourself from averting your gaze from the man you had heard tales of while the Billington family hosted gatherings. Delaford Estate was but a horse ride away from your employer’s estate and all the families seemed to keep the man in high regard.

“You think yourself less for being a working woman?” he asked, his lips thinning but he tilted his head to the side as if he were curious about your answer, nearly prompting you to be honest. “I do not, sir,” you said truthfully. “Yet there are rules and customs to follow, and I am not at liberty to take such freedoms. I am not-, I have not the chance to risk my employment with the Billingtons, sir. I am not like you, I do not have an estate of my own or the security of an annual dividend. I am sorry if I have offended you, Colonel, but I am not free to do as you.”

Silence rested upon the two of you while you tried to stop shivering, tried to calm your heart, tried to keep your nerves from fraying — at his proximity and the boldness of which you spoke with. All of it was true, yet there was something terrifying about speaking such words aloud in the presence of a man so much higher in standing than you yourself.

He leaned in, your breath hitched. “The Billington family do not know propriety if it so stepped into their home dressed in bright orange, miss.” “Sir!” you exclaimed while he straightened with the hint of a smile across his thin lips. “I shall not take no for an answer, it is not proper for a gentleman to allow a lady such as yourself to walk through the snow dressed in so little to keep warm with such a heavy-looking basket too, miss.” “Sir, I cannot with good—” “Miss Y/l/n, do me the honour of escorting you,” he interrupted while he held out his hand for the basket. “I shall not take no for an answer.” “Colonel Brandon,” you sighed but your heart would not stop hammering at his sweetness. His care and gentleness towards you.

After a beat or two you handed the basket over, his entire body jerked at the weight. “Dear lord, what are you carrying?” he asked with wide eyes while he stabilized himself and adjusted for the weight. “Food, sir,” you simply replied and he chuckled. It was a beautiful sound. “Well, shall we then?” he asked and offered his free arm which you hesitantly took. The thickness and softness of his coat were such a contrast to your thinner cloak.

He walked you back to his sleigh where a young girl sat, dressed in thick clothes with a thicker fur draped over her lower half. “Uncle, who’s this?” she asked with bright twinkling eyes much alike the Colonel’s. “Annie, this is miss Y/n Y/l/n, she shall be driven to the Billington estate,” he said and the girl wrinkled her nose in something you could only term as disgust. “That seems a horrible destination, uncle,” Annie said with the brutal honesty only a child was allowed to use.

The colonel chuckled and your body warmed at the sweet sound while you scolded yourself for how he made you feel all warm and seen, as something other than a server, a maid, a lesser person. “I quite agree, but there is little we can do. Miss Y/l/n is quite decisive and adamant about things.” You felt mortified, but not insulted, while he placed the basket in the carriage opposite little Annie with golden locks peaking out under her thick white fur hat.

“Why would you wish to go there, miss Y/l/n?” Annie asked while Colonel Brandon opened the sleigh’s door. “They are my employers, miss Brandon,” you said and the girl giggled. “That’s not my name!” she laughed, “I’m Annie Hatchet,” she continued. “My apologies, miss Annie Hatchet.” “Miss Y/l/n,” Colonel Brandon said and offered his glove hand so you could climb up. You hesitantly took it, your fingers icy cold against the soft leather. “No gloves?” he asked with a tightening of his features, as if he hadn’t noticed your bare hands before that very moment.

You shook your head, embarrassed that you had not coin enough to buy either gloves or a scarf.

You sat yourself down next to Annie who lifted the fur so you could share it. She was quite the sweet child, you weren’t usually fond of children — they were loud, made messes you had to clean and always seemed to know just what to say or do to cause harm or hurt. Nonetheless you thanked the girl just as the colonel sat himself down, drew a fur over his legs and slammed the sleigh’s door shut.

“Do you live there?” Annie asked as the coachman got the horses going anew. “Yes, I do, miss Hatchet.” “I feel sorry for you, they aren’t nice people, you know,” the child said as if it was all fine and dandy to speak of an upstanding family in such a manner. “Annie, manners,” Colonel Brandon said, but in a gentle manner. “But I’m right, uncle. They aren’t nice and they don’t treat people nice either.” “Be that as it may, there is a time and place for every conversation.” “But, uncle—” “Annie, you are making miss Y/l/n uncomfortable,” he said while you fiddled with your fingers atop the fur with your eyes lowered. For, truth be told, you agreed with the child.

It was sweet of the man to be considerate of you, you couldn’t quite stop the warmth from spreading within at his care — that the child spoke so freely with him and dared oppose him told you he was truly a kind man.

“I am not uncomfortable, sir. It is simply not my place to speak of my employer.” “See, I bet you feel the same way!” Annie exclaimed and you gave her a half-hearted smile before looking over towards the gentleman sitting opposite you. With the white landscape a s a background and the swirling snow being stirred up behind the sleigh he looked even more regal than before. But, for some reason, he didn’t make you nervous like other people of higher society did. He felt different, kinder and gentler yet strong in some manner you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“You should come with us instead,” Annie said and both you and the colonel jolted at the suggestion. “Mrs Mender promised cookies,” the child continued, oblivious to the reaction her words had caused. “And she bakes the best cookies.” “Annie, you are unbelievable, child,” Colonel Brandon sighed out but there was amusement in his voice that was quite endearing. You had never met a man like him before, and you weren’t quite sure what to do about how you were feeling.

“Thank you, young lady, for the offer. But it is not proper, and I have tasks to see to,” you said with a small smile towards the child. “Why isn’t it proper?” “I-, well, I am a maid, miss Hatchet. I should not be eating cookies with a lady such as yourself, nor should I even be seated in this sleigh with you, truthfully,” you explained while you saw Colonel Brandon’s face turn grim in your peripheral. Oddly enough, it matched the sensation in your chest at the words.

“Why?” she asked. “Because it is not proper, I am-, I am beneath you,” you said quietly and for the first time since meeting the colonel you felt ashamed about something. Something you tried so hard to take pride in, how you had worked yourself up to be a maid for a high standing family, now felt like something shameful in the presence of a true gentleman and the honest child seemingly unaware of the true ways of the world. “You’re taller than me,” she said and you smiled at her while the colonel seemed to hold back a smile of his own. “True, but that is not what I mean. Not that it matters, you should look at the world the way you do, miss Hatchet.” “Everyone should look at the world through a child’s eyes,” Colonel Brandon concurred and you turned to look at him fully while nodding.

“I don’t understand,” Annie said. “You will, eventually,” Colonel Brandon said and it seemed to sadden you both. “Can you come for cookies anyway?” “Oh, that is very sweet of you, but I must decline. Lord Billington is very, particular, about how his house should be run and I am part of the staff making sure everything happens as it should.” “That sounds awfully boring,” Annie whined while leaning back in the sleigh, looking out towards the scenery. “Between you and me,” you whispered as you leaned closer, “it is rather boring, miss Hatchet.”

The sleigh took a sharp turn and slowed down, already reaching the destination that would have taken you another hour to reach on foot. It saddened you to think this would be the last you saw of the gentleman and his niece, but you also knew the liberties taken today were not standard and that you most certainly would cherish the memories of it all for a long time to come while serving those above you. Knowing there were good people in higher society eased something while it also saddened you to know whatever you were feeling towards the colonel would never be anything but an improper thing. The man is sought after, and I am a maid. I should never have agreed to this sleigh-riding nonsense.

The sleigh stopped after the short drive to the front door, making a lump form in your gut as you knew the butler of the house would open the doors any moment expecting the company of someone grand when it was just the errant maid riding in a colonel’s sleigh.

“Here we—” As if on cue, the doors opened and you paled as the eyes of the butler met yours just as Colonel Brandon was about to open the carriage door to help you out. “Miss Y/l/n,” the butler nearly bellowed but kept his reins in at the colonel’s presence. You felt yourself shrink while the butler stomped forward rapidly. “Thank you, for the sleigh ride, Colonel Brandon. And your kindness. And thank you, miss Hatchet, for your honesty. Have a merry Christmas,” you whispered just loud enough for the colonel and Annie to hear a second before the carriage door was pulled open by the butler, knowing full well you were not about to have a merry anything.

“Maid, get down at once, please,” the butler said. You knew better than to trust his steady voice though. “Yes, sir,” you said and stepped out while trying not to slip without a hand to hold. That changed quickly as the colonel reached out and steadied you with a sturdy grip. You looked back at him with a small smile. “Thank you, Colonel Brandon, sir,” you said as evenly as you could before letting go and reaching for the basket. “Surely you will carry this for the lady?” he said, his words directed at the stoic butler who swiftly took the basket.

“The house of Billington thanks you for your assistance, Colonel Brandon,” the butler said, “and apologizes for any inconvenience caused by this maid.” You nearly winched at the words. “That’s not fair,” said Annie. “We sprayed her with snow! How can you let her walk around dressed like that in this weather, she has no gloves or even a proper coat,” the child continued to chide and, to your surprise, the colonel didn’t correct her for her outburst. “Our apologies, young lady,” the butler said with a bowing of his head and you knew you were in for a harsh scolding and extra chores that very second.

You curtsied towards the carriage, “Thank you for your assistance and I apologies for disturbing your sleigh ride, Colonel Brandon, miss Hatchet,” you said and turned, feeling your throat burn with something uncomfortable at the thought of never seeing the gentleman or his niece again. But not before seeing how the gentle colonel’s face hardened and his shoulders stiffened slightly.

You walked with the butler hot on your heels towards the front door. “Hut, hut!” called the coachman behind you and the sleigh set off towards Delaford Estate. Taking with it the nicest man you had ever met. “Inside, now, wench,” the butler hissed and the second you came inside the door was slammed shut and the basket shoved into your trembling hands.

Masterlist page // Masterlist post // AO3 // LINK TREE

A/N: So, how are we feeling about this one? It’s a bit different than my usual RICKMAS fics, no? And are we ready for it to continue tomorrow? 👀🙈

Taglist: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @snowblossomreads @leah1243 @reinekefoxart @reiketsunomizunomegami @lokisbjchn

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2022]

#rickmas2022 #rickmas #christmas fic #colonel brandon #colonel brandon fic #brandon #brandon x reader #deepperplexity fic #deepperplexity #plex #writing #fanfiction #fandom #fandom love #alan rickman #rickmaniac #rickman #sense and sensibility

50 notes · View notes

ghostboyjules · 1 year

Text

about me

omg tagged first by @mathomhouse-e and then right as I was abt to post this @wordsinhaled tagged me too!! so delighted and honored to be in this wonderful group of mutuals, y'all make my heart warm 💖🥰

Nickname: Jules, I guess, counts? other than that I don't really have a current one... @weirdfishy has been calling me ghostie tho, which I absolutely adore 🥺💕

Sign: Aquarius Sun, Aries Moon, Gemini Rising (Cap Mercury, and if y'all wanna talk astrology my dm's are always open lmaaoo)

Height: 5'7 or 5'8 on a good day (a.k.a when my sciatica isn't elbow dropping me to death)

Last thing I googled: "piercing places" and before that, "images of a shrimp" which I'm including because I thought that was very funny

Song stuck in my head: surprisingly I don't have one up there right now?? well.. I guess kinda,, but it's like a mix of a couple. All Up In Your Mind by Beyoncé, Genghis Khan by Miike Snow, Go Your Own Way by Fleetwood Mac, and In a Week by Hozier.. weird combo of songs but they're kinda cycling through my brain like a weird spirit box-esque radio station

Number of followers: 713 (😳, most of these are like, weird bots or deactivated blogs but still woah..)

Amount of sleep: hmm generally I get anywhere from 3-7 hrs, but as of right this moment (10:38pm) I've had 4hrs 36mins of Actual Sleep (from last night to when I woke up for work this morning) and then a 2 hr nap (before I started dinner this evening)

Dream job: Archivist of Some Sort™ in the Library of Congress,,, with a specialty in Thanatology?? I don't really know the specifics yet but something along those lines ig, if at all possible

Wearing: ..... a gray Cowboy Garfield t-shirt with the phrase "when I die I may not go to heaven. I don't know if they let cowboys in." and black underwear (THESE ARE MY PAJAMAS, OKAY? had to include the undies so you would get the Look™, I can't just say I'm wearing a t-shirt and leave it at that obvi... ajdjakfkg)

Movies/books that summarize you: my brain can't decide which way it wants to take this, so I'm just gonna answer with the Books/movies that I feel has shaped who I am as a person, currently. LOTR & the Hobbit trilogies, The Raven Cycle series by Maggie Stiefvater, the Conjuring (only the first one 🔪), Spirited Away, and The Labyrinth. OH SHIT almost forgot, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children.

Favorite song: this changes daily 😐 rn tho I think probably Blood Upon the Snow by Hozier and Bear McCreary

Favorite instrument: Pipe Organ, Cello, Bass Clarinet, and the voice

Aesthetic: uh... weird goth gay uncle who is lazy and also a witch? is that anything?

Favorite authors: oof alright, well. Maggie Stiefvater, Neil Gaiman, Nora Sakavic, Gege Akutami, Lemony Snicket (Daniel Handler), and a handful of Fanfic Authors that I won't list here because I'm terrified of forgetting someone, but know that I am absolutely counting them and will forever remember their names

Random fun fact: I really love playing guitar hero games but I've never once really tried to learn how to play the guitar

thanks again for tagging me, you two 🥺🥰🥰 y'all have already tagged a lot of the peeps I would have tagged in fandom (so if I tag you again, my bad beloved homies just ignore me lmao), but let's see here... @weirdfishy, @watermelon-mafia, @rabooots, @aquilathefighter, @leave-me-alone-doctor, @eel-divinity, @an-asuryampasya, @pacospandora, @rainbowvamp, @runningheadless, and @howlittleweare <3 WHEW no obligation to do this at all obvi, but if you don't, this is just a reminder that ily 😘 if you do tho, I also love you 💖 okay g'night, loves

#my beloved mutuals ✨#jules.taggame✨#y'all my brain is... it's a wild time up there #okay not gonna ramble here too long I'm sleepy again ajakfkgk #if y'all need something elaborated on by all means #ask away cause I know I said some weird shit in here 💀 sjfisifkkg #mathom and N are like the coolest ppl ever and their answers reflect that and then here I am just being #absolutely unhinged #the outfit answers are ones I'm thinking abt specifically like theirs sounds fuckin PHENOMENAL and I'm just like '... Garfield Shirt'

12 notes · View notes

safyresky · 1 year

Text

Shadowy Snippets: In Which Charlie Helps Jacqueline Realize she is the DUMBEST BITCH ALIVE

aka, the moment Jacqueline FINALLY realizes she has a big old crush on Dite 🙃. This one scene has gone through 4 different iterations, and I'm unsure how similar it will be to this most current version in the final draft of Into the Shadows, but figured y'all may enjoy it ;)

It's also a wee bit of an apology for uh. Not having Chapter 5 of Crystal Springs up last week like I had PLANNED! Idk what happened last week? It was BUSY and then EASTER?! HELLO?! I'm getting married in a MONTH. I may explode. Holy hell.

anyway, tldr: got busy last week, felt bad about not posting CS for y'all, decided to share this shadowy snippet as an apology. Will have CS 5 up this week, and maybe even CS 23! We shall see! Enjoy! :3

OH PS: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR INTO THE SHADOWS! If this scene stays, it'd be in like. Chapters 20-30 🙃

---

Charlie had never fallen down a giant hole before, nor had he ever planned to. And he certainly hadn't planned on being chased down the hole by a giant boulder. It looked way cooler in Indiana Jones, and also way safer since he. Y'know. Was running on land and not free falling down a GIANT HOLE in an ABANDONED CASTLE.

Thankfully, Charlie had something Indy didn't: an actual Legend.

Jacqueline had managed to turn around in her descent, so she was staring up at the boulder that was fast approaching them. She glanced back down, and stuck her left hand below her and her right hand above them. Both hands turned blue, and suddenly there was a whiteout. Charlie couldn’t see anything, but he could hear a crazy amount of ice cracking all around them. He could feel the cold wind and the pellets of snow hitting his face.

Well, at least when they splattered he'd be too numb to feel pain for long, he thought. That had been nice of her.

But there was no splat.

There was a soft poof, and a Charlie shaped fluffy white cloud of snow shot up around him, drifting in the air before settling on him. Jacqueline superhero landed beside him, a look of concentration so intense on her face that Charlie didn't dare imagine what would happen if he distracted her, but then again, maybe he wouldn't be able to distract her at all. She was in the zone!

The moment she hit the snow pile, her left hand shot forwards, and all of her effort and energy was focused on the icy tornado above them. There was a grating sound, louder than the crackling, and finally a definite, large THUNK.

Jacqueline still focused above them, until Charlie could see a very thick, blue, dome-like ceiling had taken form. Jacqueline brought both her hands down, and hit the floor. Multiple thick columns popped up around them, and a huge one directly in the centre of the surprisingly large space they had landed in.

"Thank the GODDESS the ground was SOLID," Jacqueline said, as the ice chips settled.

"Were you expecting pointy spiky rocks?"

"One hundred percent. How could you not, with the hole and the boulder—"

"And there was a severe lack of snakes," Charlie said.

Jacqueline laughed. "What is this, Indiana Jones?"

"Dude," Charlie said, getting up and shaking the snow off of him. "This was way cooler! Did you see what you just did? That was amazing! Oh my god! The snow!" he said, gesturing to the pile behind him as he shook a clump off of his boot. "And the dome!" he added, gesturing upwards now. "And that two-tone magic there? That's cool as heck," he said, pointing at Jacqueline's still frosty hands. "Do I get some cool two-tone magic too? Is it going to be red and green? I mean, that would check out because Christmas colours but like they're not my favourites—"

"Two-tone what now?" Jacqueline looked down at her hands, and did the last thing Charlie expected her to do.

She shot up, squealed, and started shaking her right hand, as if to fling the dark blue magic off.

"Woah, woah Jacquie! Hey, calm down! You can just poof us out of here, yeah?"

"Yeah, easily, just, give me a second here. Shoo! Be gone! ARGH!" she yelled, shaking her hand until the dark blue finally subsided.

"No two-tone magic for me then?"

Jacqueline sighed, plunked down in the snow, panting. "You better hope not," She said between breaths. "The only reason it's two tone is because half of it isn't my magic. It's Jack's." she ran her hands through her hair and frowned. "And it's getting bad."

Charlie frowned, brushing errant snowflakes off of him. He stepped forwards until he was in front of the sprite, who was still catching her breath. "Must be scary to have that much magic, huh?"

"A little bit, yeah. My roots haven't thawed in weeks, and I have a really nice hair colour."

Charlie laughed.

"No, seriously! Stop laughing! It's dark brown, right? But it also looks black. BUT. Sometimes, when the sun hits the ends juuuust right, it looks reddish. I don't wanna kill my roots, you know?"

Charlie sighed. "I don’t think this is just about your hair, Jacquie."

"It's not. Us Frosts cope with humour as best as we can," Jacqueline said with a soft smile, bringing her knees up to her chest.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, snow's all nice and cold."

Charlie sat beside her, catching his breath. "Coping, huh?"

"Mhmm." Jacqueline replied, running her hands through her hair. "Having two essences is like. It's a LOT. It's hard. Especially when one is double your age. And Legendary. Not that I'm not, but like. It's different."

"No, I get it. Status versus like, title, right?"

"Yeah, exactly," Jacqueline said, sighing and leaning back in the snow. "Anyway. Magical essences are a huge part of a magibean's whole being and identity. And even though Legends and their Legates can literally share their essences with one another, and ours were able to give us theirs to keep safe," she said, summoning the blue magic again, "they aren't ours. And they're kind of squishing us."

"Squishing?"

"Yeah. The longer we hold onto our Legendary counterpart's essences, the more dominant their essence becomes, the less dominant ours is. We're powerful little fucks, but our Legends? Even more so than us. So our essences are slowly getting squashed. It's why Dite's been grumpy lately, for instance."

"You've all been taking on traits from your Legends," Charlie realized.

"Yeah. And for some of us there's a few nasty side effects," Jacqueline said with a sigh, closing her fist and dismissing the dark blue magic. "See: my roots. I freeze dry, right? It keeps the hair out of my face and cuts static down which is great because I get really zappy sometimes! But it never stays for me."

"Why not?"

"I can't permafrost. Mom thinks it's a side effect of global warming. Dad thinks it's heat sprite lineage. But you see these roots? See how they're crispy white? And icy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not doing that. I'm waking up like this every day! It's not going away," she said pushing herself forward and huffing. "I think that having Jack's essence is freezing me a bit."

"You mean like, freezing you freezing? Like, like your brother was?"

Jacqueline nodded. "I've been feeling a lot angrier lately, and sure, I'm angry sometimes, but levels like this? I haven't seen it since I—" she looked startled; she glanced at Charlie, mouth still open to speak though she was silent. She snapped her jaw shut and hugged her knees, burying her face in them.

"Oh, shit. Hey, Jacqueline, it's okay," Charlie said, throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in for a side hug. Though she kept an iron grip around her legs, she didn't stop Charlie from pulling her in. "You won't freeze. You never have," Charlie said.

"That's the thing, Charlie!" Jacqueline exclaimed, head shooting up. "I keep saying that, and everyone thinks that but it's not—it's not true!"

She inhaled, looking up at the sparkling icy ceiling above them. "Do you know why I managed to fend off the shadows, when they took your Dad, for as long as I did?"

"I assumed it was because you were a badass."

"Awwh, thank you! That's-that's sweet! I am, aren't I?" She said with a smile, holding her head in her hands and staring at her friend.

"I'll say. I saw you kick through that cloud of fear like it was nothing."

"Because it was nothing," she said. Sighing, she let go of her head, hugging her knees once again. "When they descended on me, they showed me my worst fear. It was me. Frozen."

"That's your worst fear?"

"It was. But the thing is, as I stood there and saw myself, you know, cold, no warm flush, angry beyond belief, I realized that I wasn't afraid of myself anymore."

"How come?"

"Because the image it showed me? Was straight out of Frostmas. I had already lived it. And I survived it. I wasn't afraid of frozie Jacqueline anymore. I had been her."

"And then you punched fear right in the face!" Charlie said with a very excitable mimed punch.

Jacqueline laughed, though it sounded watery. "I sure fucking did. And lasted for a bit longer. But then he came."

"The Boogie Man."

"King of Darkness. Erebus," Jacqueline corrected. "And he found my new fear, and. Well. It worked. I couldn't break out of it that time. I don't know what your Dad did, but whatever it was? I think it saved B-Man and I."

Charlie frowned, doing some fast thinking. "Wait. If you lived that fear already, does that mean that you have been frozen?"

"When Jack used the Escape Clause on your Dad, he created an alternate timeline where he was Santa."

"Which would make you Jack Frost."

Jacqueline nodded. "But because of the Legend-Legate connection, I still remembered the proper timeline. And I grew so obsessed with fixing it and proving that Jack wasn't actually supposed to be Santa, that I accidentally froze myself in the process. And when the timeline was fixed, I came back frozen. But not for long. Your sister thawed my brother. And the shock of that, the power of that was so strong that I felt it to, and it thawed me as well."

"Lucy's a powerhouse!"

Jacqueline laughed. "Yes, and I can never thank her enough. I've never told anyone this, Charlie," she said, looking back at him now.

"But you still have your flawless record. The timeline never happened, right? So technically, you never actually froze."

"That's the thing. It never happened. But my brother and I still remember it like it did. And when I came back from that timeline, I came back…frozen," she said, hiding her face once again.

"It's okay. It happens to sprites from time to time, doesn't it?"

"It can," said Jacqueline, lifting her head a bit. "But that's not the point. The point is, here I am, priding myself on being the one existing winter sprite that didn't have a nasty case of hardened heart, ever, at ALL, but that's a LIE, Charlie. I…lied. And I was terrified of what would happen if my friends found out."

"I don't think a single one of your friends wouldn't be supportive," Charlie said.

"I'd like to think that, too! But that what if is really strong, Charles."

He laughed. "I hate that you call me that."

"And I love that you hate it. I live to bother," she said, seriously.

"You know, I got that vibe. I think that's the middle child talking," Charlie said with a grin.

Jacqueline laughed, exhaling. "When Erebus rammed into me, that's what I saw. I saw B-Man and Elle being absolutely disgusted that I had frozen. Elle stopped being friends with me. My family kept me at arms length; the Twins were scared as could be. And DITE! Ugh that one hurt the most, Charlie. She was crying," Jacqueline said, with the saddest face Charlie had ever seen on the sprite. "Because of me. Because I lied to her. That hurt so much."

"Wow, you've really got it bad for her," Charlie said before he could stop himself.

"What? No I don't. What do you mean?"

"What do you mean what do I mean?"

"I've got it bad for her? Are you saying that I have a crush on her?"

"Well, yeah! NO. Wait. Hold on. Don't tell me you didn't know you had a crush on her."

"I don't?" Jacqueline said, doubty.

"Are you sure about that? I mean, you just told me your worst fear, Jacqueline. And in it, the thing that upset you the most was Dite being upset at you. Not your family, not Bernard or Elle, but Dite."

"We're really good friends?"

"Oh my god, this is the best! You really don't think you have a crush on her?"

Jacqueline looked panicked. "No! I just. You know. She's really nice and sweet and funny, and oh my gods she kicks ass, have you seen her in action?"

Charlie shook his head, staring at Jacqueline's roots. The more she talked about Dite, the less…icy they looked. "I can't say that I have," he said, poking Jacqueline's head.

"Hey! What's that all about?" she asked, rubbing her head.

"Check out your hand," Charlie said, as ice chipped off of the sprite's hair.

She gasped, scratching her scalp a bit more. When she opened her palm, ice was sitting in it, melting.

"And that happened when you started talking about Dite."

"No," she said, looking aghast at the ice in her hands.

"Yes," Charlie said, just as aghast.

"This happened? When I talked about Dite?!"

"Yeah!" Charlie said, laughingly. "Just the thought of her alone gets you all slushy," he said, nudging her shoulder.

"AhhhhHHHHH," Jacqueline squealed, her face very, very flushed. "Holy snowballs. I totally have a crush on Dite. Oh my god. Oh no."

"Well THAT'S not what I expected to hear. It's okay, Jacqueline! There are worse people to crush on!"

"No, Charlie, it's not that! She's amazing. It's just. It's embarrassing, now that I'm thinking about it. I think I've had a crush on her for like, three hundred years."

"Three hundred years?!"

"Yes!"

"Three whole CENTURIES!

"YES."

"And you didn't know??"

"No! I didn't! You think we'd be having this conversation now if I had known?!"

"Your Jack is showing."

"Shush," she replied, rubbing her head. "I am the dumbest bitch ALIVE," she finally said, hands up in the air as she groaned and once again fell back into the snowbank. "She's literally Cupid, Charlie! She's probably known the whole time! That's so embarrassing, of all the people to get a crush on—"

"Again, she's not the worst," Charlie said with a smile.

"Absolutely not," Jacqueline shot back fast, with a happy sigh. "I should ask her out. On like, a date."

"I think so too. I mean, thoughts of her are already melting you a little bit. And I think we both know that she would be your number one supporter if you were to freeze."

Jacqueline laughed. "She's everyone's number one supporter. She's nice like that. She's nice to everyone."

"I think she'd understand if you told her you were frozen once. I think everyone would understand, Jacqueline. I mean, you told me, and I'm still here," he said with a shrug.

"Well, yeah, but it's not like you can go anywhere. We're trapped in a hole in the ground."

"Lighten up, would you? I didn't run away immediately, did I? I'm still here for you, Jacqueline. And so is Dite, and Elle and Bernard and your family, I mean, your brother has known the entire time and he certainly hasn't judged you either. He's been there before. I know telling the truth can be scary," Charlie said, getting up and offering her a hand. "But it's not so scary when you're with the people you love. Including the goddess of pleasure," Charlie added, with an eyebrow waggle for good measure.

Jacqueline snorted, grabbing Charlie's hand. "I can't beLIEVE how dense I am," she said, pushing herself up as Charlie pulled.

"Nor can I. I thought you were the Legate with the brain cell!"

"GOD no. What gave you that idea? That's Xander," Jacqueline said, her grip on Charlie's hand tightening. "Thanks for that, Charlie. I really appreciate it."

"Of course! What're friends for? Ready to go?"

"Are you?"

"Whenever you are," he said with a squeeze.

"In that case," Jacqueline replied with an almost feral grin, "Bundle up, bitch! It's about to get chillay."

And with that, the pair disappeared in a flurry of two tone blue sparks and snowflakes.

And not a moment too soon.

Moments after the last spark floated off, there was a large crack, the boulder falling through the hole, getting caught on the icy pillar below it as it capsized.

6 notes · View notes

sergeant-spoons · 2 years

Text

43. Third, Second, First

Leslie Sheppard

Taglist: @thoughpoppiesblow @chaosklutz @wexhappyxfew @50svibes @tvserie-s-world @adamantiumdragonfly @ask-you-what-sir @whovian45810 @brokennerdalert @holdingforgeneralhugs @claire-bear-1218 @heirsoflilith @itswormtrain @actualtrashpanda @wtrpxrks

Hello, my lovely readers! I don’t often do Author’s Notes these days, but this is a very special occasion: this chapter is the update that surpasses 100k words of Destiny Carries a Wrench. I am so immensely grateful for everyone who has read this fic and supported my writing. I love you all dearly. Here’s to 100k—and, hopefully, 100k more! 💕

I will be making a 100k celebration post soon with an ask game. Be on the lookout for that, but in the meantime, I hope you enjoy this unusually long chapter!

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

"Watch your step!"

"I'm not gonna fall, look! Oh, shit—woah!"

"Les! Hold on-"

"Don- Don! I'm just kidding! See?"

Laughter, some a little more hesitant than the rest.

"Think I can jump that gap?"

"Go for it, Skip!"

Laughter mixed with sympathetic groans.

"You okay?"

"'Course I am! Hey, race you both to the fence—last place gives a pack o' Lucky Strikes to the winner!"

"Oh, you're on!"

Laughter all throughout the air, refreshing, warming, loving.

Leaping from bale to bale, Leslie let out a whoop of exhilaration. She was in the lead, but just barely—Don could catch up at any second, and Skip looked to be saving his strength for the final stretch. She had not expected to spend her first Christmas away from home running amuck through an Aldbourne farmer's field, but she couldn't think of a single place she'd rather be. Home, maybe, but with Skip and especially Don with her, today's shenanigans felt plenty like a winter's day back in Astoria. The haybales they called their stomping ground were dusted with snow, and the flakes kept falling on and off all afternoon as the three friends ran and played. They felt like children all over again, stuffed into mittens and hats and socks against the cold by a watchful mother (in this instance, Easy Company's very own Sergeant Lipton). For a few precious hours, the snow fluttered down and they ran and ran until their chests ached from racing and laughing.

The war could not reach them here.

That morning had already satisfied Leslie's want for the holiday traditions of Christmas Day. She, Tink, and Kiko had exchanged presents sitting on the floor between their beds. Michael Michaud showed up at their door right after nine with a trayful of gingerbread cookies—"Just for you girls, the fellas can fight over the second batch."—and the girls made him stay for a minute and play craps with Tink's new set of dice. They were debating what they ought to bet with when George Luz showed up at their window with four chocolate bars and saved the day. They pleaded for him to come in and play with them, but he smacked his hand to his forehead and launched into a whole dramatic spiel about why he couldn't thanks to Jolly Old Saint Sobel, and him sneaking off base was trouble enough, and on and on. As he monologued, Leslie saw the way George was grinning at Tink and guessed the fourth chocolate bar had been meant as a bonus for her—his favorite. They managed to convince him to come for Christmas dinner, in the end, and he turned back down the lane with a spring in his step.

After Michael had proved himself a talented baker and won enough chocolate to last him all week, he allowed himself to be dragged back down the street to his billet by his housemates, the smell of gingerbread too enticing to ignore. Tink put away the dice, Leslie threw on her robe, and Kiko went downstairs to deliver the girls' Christmas card to their host. They'd bought her a little something for the mantel, and Mrs. Witchetty wept and thanked them so profusely they became embarrassed at how small a trinket it really was. They all went into the downstairs parlor, the one Mrs. Witchetty used for entertaining her old friends, and admired the twinkling tree until a knock came at the door. Three callers before ten in the morning—it must be Christmas, after all! Leslie looked out the window and saw it was Penkala, so she sent Kiko to open the door. He came in stamping his boots, and they could hear from the parlor when he told his girlfriend it had snowed and stuck on the other end of town last night. Coming into the parlor, he beelined for the fire Leslie had just finished lighting and related that Skip and Don would be coming along shortly.

"They're coming to celebrate with us?"

Penkala shot her a meaningful look. "They wouldn't miss it for the world."

Tink fell asleep on the sofa before noon. She had stayed up after everyone else in the house had gone to sleep, perched on a stool in the hall with the wall as her backrest, waiting by the phone for a call that never came. When it got so late that even hope could not reason its own presence, she still could not find it in her to sleep and so stayed up writing a long-overdue letter home to her cousin and brothers. It ended up being several pages—front and back—and took her straight through the sunrise. Leslie had gone to wake her just before seven, knowing how excited she would be for the day's festivities, only to find Tink wide awake on the other side of the room. She was kneeling by the window, her hands clasped in prayer, the rosary beads she wore around her neck now wrapped around her fingers. She didn't notice Leslie and Leslie did not disturb her. When Leslie went to turn off the lamp by Tink's bed, the bulb was so hot that it almost burned her and she jumped back. One look at the sleepy fluttering of Tink's eyes and Leslie knew she'd been up all night.

Kiko was the first to notice their friend had dozed off, but Leslie bade her stay with her boyfriend and went over to the sofa herself. She roused Tink into a state of consciousness that was not full wakefulness but sufficient to get her on her feet. Leslie guided her to bed to hopefully make up a portion of the rest she had missed the night before, promising someone would wake her in time for dinner. Tink was out like a light, and Leslie drew the shades and shut the door, leaving her to her peace.

Back in the parlor, Kiko and Penk had moved onto the sofa in Tink's absence, enjoying the fire. Penk's jacket had come off and now lay neatly folded over the arm of the couch. Kiko was sitting cross-legged, her socked feet pressed gently against her thighs, facing her boyfriend. Mrs. Witchetty saw Leslie come into the room and nodded as if assigning her the post of chastity-keeper. She left for the kitchen with nary a backward glance, on her way to start preparations for the holiday feast. She had been alarmed when the girls mentioned the appetite of their closest friends but not for the reason they expected—she was delighted to have more guests but afraid she would run short on food! As soon as she was out of the room, Kiko unfolded her legs and moved to sit beside her boyfriend, who could not help a smile. He wrapped his arm around her back and tucked her against his side, pressing a kiss to the pleasant curve of her brow.

"I have a gift for you."

"I do, too."

Leslie, lingering in the doorway, wished for an excuse to leave the pair to themselves and found it in the ringing of the doorbell. She called out to all those within earshot that she'd get the door and dashed down the hall to find two much-loved friends behind it. After embracing them both on the stoop, Leslie drew Skip and Don inside, admiring the way Don's eyes twinkled with the reflection of the early blue sky. They appreciated the tree for a few seconds (pretending not to notice Penk and Kiko's starry-eyed exchanges) before Leslie pushed them further down the hall into the kitchen, the only other currently-available community space. Mrs. Witchetty was more than happy to provide them with hot cocoa, delighted that Skip and Don had thought so far ahead as to bring thermoses for their day out. Hearing this, Leslie stopped short mid-drink. Her confused expression was made ever the funnier to her friends by the sugary froth forming a mustache on her upper lip.

"Our day out?"

Mrs. Witchetty gestured to Skip and Don. "Well, judging by the way your friends are dressed, they're not planning to stay indoors much longer."

Skip laughed. "I am starting to sweat, ma'am," he admitted, and Leslie made a face.

"Then get going!" Mrs. Witchetty cried, and she likely would have shooed them back down the hall and out the door had the oven timer not gone off at that exact moment and demanded her immediate attention.

After a beat, Leslie turned to Don, a question quirking her brow.

"Alright, spill."

He was trying not to smile. "Spill? Spill what?" he asked innocently, but she was not fooled and jabbed playfully at his chest.

"You've got mischief planned, and I want the details before you drag me along."

"Oh, come on-" He grinned. "-don't you trust me?"

With my life, she almost replied, but Skip beat her to it.

"Not if she knows what's good for her," he laughed, slinging his arm over Don's shoulders as he produced a third thermos from his coat pocket. "Still—you comin' with us, Sparky?"

"'Course I am," she shot back, transferring her cocoa from mug to thermos once he gave the latter to her. "I just gotta go bundle up first."

"Take your time," they called up the stairs after her, "this cocoa won't drink itself."

Indeed, Leslie took longer than she ordinarily would have, for all her clothing was in the dresser she and Tink shared and she had to creep around so as not to wake her friend. She grabbed her boots and hustled back down the stairs with them slung over her shoulder. Skip and Don were waiting just inside the threshold. As soon as they saw her, Skip whistled.

"You look like a real winter adventurer, Sparky!"

"Thanks!" She shot him a flamboyant salute. "But hey, keep your voice down—Tink's asleep."

He winced, apologetic, but asked, "Why?" nonetheless.

"She didn't get any sleep last night," Leslie told him, and her expression let him know that was all the information he was going to get.

"Poor kid." He tipped his chin back and forth. "Maybe some cocoa would perk her up."

"Yeah, maybe-" Leslie ushered them out the door into the chilly morning. "-but let's leave that to Mrs. Witchetty. In the meantime, I'd like to know exactly where it is that we're s'posed to be going."

"Well, since your cold's finally let up," Don voiced, "we thought we could go for a little adventure in the snow."

Leslie looked at the slush on the streets, skeptical, and he laughed.

"Not here, Les. On the other side of town."

"Past the base?"

He and Skip nodded.

"But that's so far," she pretended to complain, and Don hip-checked her.

"Hey, who here had to carry a mortar on his back and march from Toccoa to Atlanta?"

Leslie felt bad, remembering the pain her friend had been in, but Skip seemed to recall a different facet of the time.

"Jeez," he marveled, "that was, what, a whole year ago?"

"Yeah, just about. Give or take a few weeks."

"'Jeez' is right," Leslie agreed. "Can you believe it's gonna be 1944 so soon?"

"Not really." Don flashed her a grin. "But hey, a whole year and we're all still together. That's gotta count for something, right?"

A smile blossomed on Leslie's lips, and though she caught the way Skip started to smirk as he glanced between her and Don, she thought little of it.

"Right."

So here they were, bouncing on (and off) haybales and imagining they were a world away from their responsibilities. Three hours passed in this fashion. Leslie started a snowball fight at one point, but there wasn't enough snow to form decent projectiles and they ended up just tackling each other onto the wet ground, leaving imprints of their roughhousing wherever they rolled about. Skip stayed mostly out of it, and Leslie ended up either on top of or under Don more often than not. She won by group consensus in the end and they went back to racing on the haybales, challenging the sky and the earth to keep them from slipping. After a particularly daring escapade that involved a lot of sliding and even more jumping, they started joking half-seriously that they hoped they weren't ruining some farmer's crop with their hijinks, and that got their boots back on solid ground. They were all worn out by then anyway, and so they gathered by one of the tallest bales and sat in the narrow space it had shielded from the snowfall. The grass was dead but the spirits of those resting upon it were anything but.

"Scoot over," Leslie complained, seeing there was no room for her to sit without getting her legs and such wet, and Don offered her his hand. "What's'at for?" she huffed.

"Not enough room," Don insisted.

"Yeah, so scoot!"

"Nope."

He grinned and pulled her down, and she squeaked as she fell right on his lap.

"Oy!"

She squirmed. Don kept her there with a bear hug, and when he murmured right into her ear about her not getting wet, her bluffed resolve quickly evaporated. She sighed at her defeat but leaned fully into his chest, tucking her arms against him and drawing her knees up toward her. Skip shot them a gleeful grin that Leslie did not catch but Don certainly did. They sat there for a good fifteen minutes, looking around at the snow (when it began to fall again), the gaps of blue in the sky, the hills rolling on in fields for miles and miles, and whatever else came into sight—a cow, for instance, that was quickly rounded up by its farmer and guided back home over the bluffs.

"Well," Skip said at last, hopping to his feet, "I'm hungry, and if my watch is right—which I'm willing to bet it is—dinner's almost ready back at the witch's."

Leslie started to scold him even as she accepted his hand up, but he just laughed, bobbing his head.

"I know, I know, Mrs. Witchetty is very nice. I'm just kidding! Come on, her name is Witchetty—stop hitting me with your hat!"

Leslie brought her arm back, ready to swat him with her cap (her favorite winter one, with the earflaps and fuzzy interior) one last time for good measure, but a hand caught her wrist before she could. Don spun her around—fully twirling her—and she landed against his chest, a familiar spot not solely concurrent to today. This time, however, she was facing him directly, pressed so near she could feel when his heartbeat skipped.

"Play nice," he murmured, holding her cap behind his back, and seemed surprised when she didn't immediately make a grab for it.

Leslie felt her cheeks heating up. What was it about his voice just then that had given her pause? Sure, he'd spoken to her like that before, teasing, almost purring, but it had never affected her so thoroughly. Her constitution fumbled and she knew the cracks were beginning to show in the mask when Don's smile waned.

"Les?"

She grabbed her cap and danced away from him, crowing, "Never let 'em lull you into a false sense of security!"

It was nonsense, complete bullshit, but Don voiced his agreement anyway, watching her prance about as he ran his hand through his hair, wishing he understood what he'd seen in her gaze just then.

Little did he know, he would see it again later that evening, and this second time, she would leave less room for doubt (yet still manage to conjure more questions than answers).

It was an hour after dinner, an hour and forty-five minutes after they'd changed out of their wet clothes into dry editions, and two hours after they'd gotten back from the field of the haybales. Leslie and Don had gone upstairs into the girls' sitting room with mugs of coffee and the promise to stay up a little while longer, although they were both getting tired. It was just the two of them, this time. Not that they had anything against Skip or their other friends, but they'd both been hoping for some time alone with each other all day. Mrs. Witchetty, Tink, and their guests stayed downstairs in the parlor, stalling their goodbyes over gingersnaps and candy canes. On the sofa upstairs, Leslie curled up against Don's side. Familiarity like this was all they needed to feel like home was within reach, even now. Listening to the muffled chitchat downstairs, they pretended they knew the vein of conversation and quipped about it until they lost the train of logic and fell into loose, comfortable laughter.

"Oh, Don, you've done it again," Leslie murmured as she eyed his chest.

"Done what?"

As she turned to set her coffee mug aside, Don did his best to blink away his bewilderment.

"Here."

She reached out and started to unbutton his shirt. Stunned, he froze, his only motion the rise and fall of his breathing. Leslie kept going, her fingers grazing his skin, heating him up even more than the fire blazing in the hearth just beyond the sofa. Her palm ghosted over his navel and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"You sure this is coffee and not Kahlúa?" he asked weakly, and finally, she looked up.

"The liqueur?" She looked at him peculiarly as if she wasn't sure of the answer herself. "No, I think I would have noticed you getting tipsy, 'Lark, not to mention myself."

"Then, um..." He shifted slightly, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. "What's with the, uh..."

"Hmm?" She looked at his face, then down at where her hands now rested (the waistline of his pants), and blushed. "Oh. Ah-"

Quickly, she seized the bottom of his shirt and started to rebutton it, and Don was even more confused until she reached the second-top button (excluding the one meant to fasten his collar) and he realized her intention. He was embarrassed at having forgotten her habit but even more so that he had the gall to be disappointed she wasn't making a move on him after all.

"There," she said, and maybe it was his imagination, but her voice sounded a little shaky. "All better."

"Thanks."

"Sure thing."

They went quiet for a moment. Leslie plucked at a loose thread in the couch cushion. Don looked at his watch and brightened up.

"I think it's about time for presents!" he exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "I'll meet you back here in, say, a minute?"

"Better make it half!" Leslie replied, already on her way out the door.

Don was back before her, eased onto the sofa in the same place he had formerly sat. He was fiddling with the buttons on his shirt when she came in but stopped as soon as he saw her. There was a small, round box on his lap wrapped with newspaper and tied with a bow. Leslie held her gift (for him) behind her until she reached him and presented it with a flourish and a smile. Don mirrored her, lifting the present in his lap towards her as he grinned.

"Merry Christmas!"

Leslie insisted Don partake in the present unwrapping first. He agreed but only if she would take the gift he'd gotten for her now and hold it as she watched. She sat down beside him, facing him halfway, one leg dangling off the couch with the other crooked beside her. Her foot was pressed to the side of her knee. She could feel the fuzz of her sock through her trouser leg. Her grin slowly grew as she watched Don stick his hand into the tissue paper inside the bag, feel the item within, and start to smile.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"You'll just have to find out."

He pulled her gift out of the bag, sending tissue paper across the sofa and her legs. Giggling, Leslie gathered it up, but she did so rather clumsily, her eyes affixed on Don's reaction all the while. He recognized the symbol immediately—it was hung all over his house back home, after all—an Irish harp. He cradled the small silver charm in his palm, gently running his thumb over every intricate groove in the engraving. His smile quickly spread from ear to ear as he held up the charm and watched it turn slowly on its bale, gleaming in the firelight.

"You like it?"

"It's beautiful," he said, nestling it in his hand once again.

He looked over at her. His eyes had gone soft around the edges, almost as if he was looking at something he truly loved.

"You're beautiful," he whispered.

Leslie started to reply with something silly, but then Don leaned over and kissed her cheek. She went silent at once, fumbling for a reason why her cheeks had gone so warm all of a sudden.

"I love it. Thank you."

Though Don was still smiling as warm as the fire under the mantel, Leslie's heart refused to calm its pitter-patter, and she didn't understand why. It was just a little kiss. Short and sweet and friendly, that's all.

"You can put it on the chain with your dog tags," she blurted out, and her voice sounded loud to her own ears. "If you want to, I mean. It's supposed to symbolize a fighting spirit-"

"-and long life," he agreed, bringing the chain she spoke of out from under his shirt. "I'll put it on right now."

She watched as he did so, but the deftness of his fingers was nothing compared to the magnificence of his face. It was the firelight glancing off his skin, she tried to convince herself, not the way he stuck his tongue ever-so-slightly out of the corner of his mouth or how his eyelashes lowered just slightly as he focused. It wasn't that she could still feel his lips pressed to the edge of her smile like an affirmation of fondness she never wanted to forget.

"There."

He lowered the chain over his head and tucked it beneath his shirt, and the magic was broken. Leslie blinked awake and remembered they were in England, in reality, not back in Astoria, tucked away in an imagined living room in a nonexistent house that was called home by just her and him.

"Your turn," Don urged, gesturing to the round box. "Open it!"

"What's the rush?" she laughed, her voice giving out a little when Don scooted closer, wrapping his arm around her back.

"I want you to like it, that's all."

"I'm sure I will."

She opened the box and immediately gasped his name.

"Don!"

"What?"

"I don't like it, I love it!"

Don's hand felt warm on her waist. Leslie leaped up, clutching her new favorite cap in her hands, and danced about the living room. Don clapped, watching her, and when he started keeping a rhythm, she did a little Irish jig for him, flapping the cap about for performative effect. Soon out of breath—more so from his adoring gaze rather than the activity—she jumped into a sweeping bow. Don gave her a round of applause, joking just a little by rotating his hands in a circular fashion along with his clapping. She bowed a second time, then placed the cap on her head and smartly flicked the brim.

"Bravo! You should start a one-woman show, Les, you'd make a killing."

She skipped over to him, beaming. He moved his legs apart so she could stand between them. Her hands lightly gripping his knees, she bent down and kissed his cheek, the same kind of smooch he'd bestowed upon her earlier. Immediately thereafter, she turned to grab the empty hatbox from where she'd left it beside him and intentionally missed his reaction (she wasn't sure she was ready to know why he kept looking at her that way). Perhaps it was better that she did not see how he brought his hand up to his cheek, then his lips as if in a dream. He was staring at her, undeniably lovesick. Who knows if she would have been able to keep from realizing they were not, after all, 'just friends' had she seen.

"I'm glad you like it."

He didn't sound quite as at ease as he had before she kissed him, but Leslie tried not to take notice.

"Didn't you hear me? I love it."

"Well, then, I'm glad of that, too."

To her relief, Don had started to smile again. Content, Leslie plopped down on the carpet, close to the fire (but not too close), and sat cross-legged.

"Today was fun," she mused, fiddling with the ribbon of the hatbox where it now sat snug in her lap. "I hope there's more snow soon."

"That would be nice," Don agreed, coming down off the sofa to join her on the floor. "Sobel doesn't like running in the snow, so he'll probably cancel our six-mile if it's deep enough."

"I'll pray to the snow gods for you."

He kissed his fingers and raised them to heaven, and Leslie laughed softly.

"What'd we do last Christmas?" she asked after a beat.

Don considered. "Went sledding, I think."

"Oh, yeah."

"Well, that might've been a few days later, but still."

A certain recollection made Leslie laugh.

"Remember how we went flying off that jump? You thought I hit my head when I fell off. You were so worried, came running over like you thought I was gonna die."

"What?" His coloring betrayed him, his cheeks turning pink as he remembered but pretended not to. "No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did." She giggled, laying down. "Oh, stop scrunching up your face like that—don't you know I think it was sweet?"

Like always, he copied her position, reclining on the carpet to better match her.

"I didn't know that, no."

"Huh. Well, now you do."

He leaned up on his elbow as he looked at her. She could see him out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be smiling.

"Anything else I don't know about your stellar opinion of me?"

She turned her head, her hands clasped lazily over her stomach, and met his gaze.

"You know exactly what I think of you, Don."

"Do I?"

"You're first-rate," she reminded him, "and don't you ever forget it."

"First rate? I dunno..."

"What! Don!"

He laughed. "I'm just kidding. But hey—you know what I think of you, doll?"

She was about to respond "Yeah?" but the pet name stopped her in her tracks. The last time he'd called her that was his birthday, almost four months ago. They went out dancing that night. Her lipstick got on his collar by mistake and then she added it to his cheek on purpose. He called her doll and told her she was pretty over and over until she believed it.

And tonight, he'd called her beautiful.

Don didn't seem to notice her hesitation. He reached over and pushed her new cap down over her eyes, and that snapped her out of the quicksand that her thoughts had become. She groaned and swatted his hand away, pushing her cap back up.

"What? What d'you think about me?" she asked finally, and he grinned.

"I think you're amazing and incredible and hella talented in roughly fifty different ways—not to mention the prettiest girl I've ever met."

He was expecting her to 'aww' and tease him a bit, but instead, tears came into her eyes. She went all soft and flustered and when she reached over to hold his hand, her fingers were trembling. For the second time that night, he had to remind himself he wasn't dreaming, and a thrill shot through him, raising goosebumps on his arms.

"Don?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm, uh... I'm real happy right now."

"Hey, me too." He chuckled softly, reaching over to brush a sprig of honey-nut hair out of her eyes. "Kinda hard to be sad on Christmas."

She tilted her head back and forth. "Well, yeah..."

"Not what you meant?"

"No."

He sat up fully, crossing his legs and clasping his hands firmly over them.

"No more jokes. I'm listening."

"Thanks."

She took a deep breath and weaved the ribbon around her fingers, a little nervous although she'd said things like this plenty before.

"I'm happy that it's still you an' me. We've stuck together all this time, and it just feels right, y'know?"

He nodded—yeah, I know.

"I think it's... Yeah. Almost 14 years and counting."

Don let out a low whistle. "Damn."

"I know, right? Can you believe it?"

His smile turned affectionate. "One thousand percent."

Although Leslie felt uncharacteristically shy, her smile did not show it.

"I can, too. It's always been us, and it's always gonna be us."

He heard a thump from downstairs and automatically glanced at the floor. It was only for a second, but that was all her anxiety needed to appear.

"Right?" she asked, quieter, and when he looked back at her and saw her smile falling, he squeezed her hand and scooted up to her side.

"Right. No doubt about it." He kissed her forehead and wrapped his arm around her to rub her shoulder. "You and me, to the end of the road."

"And may that road be a long one."

"Amen to that!"

They laughed softly, fondly, together.

"Hey, you know what?" Don asked, a twinkle in his eye.

"What?"

"I've got a second surprise for you."

"No!" she gasped.

"Yes!" he refuted, his smile broadening. "Go on, close your eyes..."

He found her amazement so adorable that he almost didn't want to ask her to hide it. He did, and when she complied, he went over to the corner of the room where he'd left a very special something hidden in the blanket basket just for tonight.

Leslie sat patiently, listening to Don move away from her across the room. He picked up something soft and set it aside. After a beat, she heard the rustling of clothing; he seemed to be taking off his shirt.

"Hey, I just buttoned that!" she exclaimed, and a smile pushed at her lips when she caught his chuckle coming back towards her.

"Okay, open your eyes."

She did. He was coming to kneel before her, and he'd changed like she thought. What she hadn't at all expected was the top he'd replaced his button-up with. It was his Christmas sweater, the one she'd made him years and years ago, the one he wore every Christmas without fail. Here it was, green as the evergreen downstairs, pom-poms and all. Don had brought it all the way overseas, just for her.

Leslie couldn't help it. She started to cry.

"Uh-oh." Don's smile fell. "Shit. Um, should I take it off-"

"No!"

She flung her arms around him with such strength that he fell over, narrowly missing hitting his head on the foot of the couch.

"Sorry," she hiccuped, "but no, don't take it off. Please."

Relaxing, he wrapped her in a hug, rubbing her back to soothe her.

"Thank you," she wept into his shoulder, "thank you."

"Yeah, of course." He held her close and warm and safe. "Merry Christmas, Les."

"Oh, Don-!" A hiccup interrupted her. "I could never ask for a better- a better-"

"A better what?" he asked, and his voice was soft but there was a hint of strain beneath it.

They both waited with bated breath for her to finish her thought. They both wanted her to say or do something that crossed the line of 'friend' once and for all. They both wanted her to call him what he'd always been: hers.

Don knew and understood all these things. Leslie, alas, did not.

"A better best friend," she sputtered out at last and buried her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

They shared a silent sigh, feeling the slow rise and slower fall of each other's chest where it was pressed to their own. Leslie would not tell a soul, not even Kiko or Tink, but in that moment, disappointment at her response was not a reaction exclusive to Don.

"Need a tissue?" he asked after a while, and Leslie lifted her head, wiping away the last of her tears with her sleeve.

"No. No, I'm alright now."

She sat up, leaning her back against the sofa but still sitting on the floor. The fire had died down to embers by now. After a few seconds, Don pushed himself up by his forearms and joined her. Leslie stole a glance at him and saw he was not, for once, looking at her. She patted the carpet beside her, wishing her would come closer, and he reassured her by wasting no time in obliging.

"Y'know," she wondered aloud, "I kept thinking we'd be in the thick of the war by now."

Don said nothing; nevertheless, the stiffening of his posture did not go unnoticed by Leslie, whose anxiety fed off his.

"I wonder if the war will ever end," she went on, quieter. "What if it never does? What if we never-"

Before she could say something awful like what if we never get to see peacetime again? or something better like what if we never give up?, Don placed both hands on the side of her face and kissed her right on the lips. He did not let go for a good few seconds, but it was not long enough for Leslie to snap out of her stunned state and reciprocate. He pulled back; she gasped. He turned his head aside, and she, too afraid and confused to try and initiate a second kiss, stared at him as if that might give her an explanation for the first. She saw his neck was flushed, his hands were squeezed together, and his chest was shaking with every breath. She still did not understand. One of his thumbs tugged at the other and he spoke up, his very being charged with emotion.

"Don't- don't talk like that. Please."

"Don?" she asked weakly, still reeling.

"It's Christmas."

She reached out and took his hand. He wrapped his fingers around hers as if on instinct. When she leaned her head on his shoulder and tried to steady her breathing, he did not shy away, but he did not speak again, either. She did not know what to say or do. Footsteps from the downstairs landing caught her attention. Don heard them too. Leslie couldn't decide if the interruption was timely or anything but. Don started to stir, and when she lifted her head, he stood up.

"You're leaving?"

"We've already stayed too late," he said. "Listen—there's George, coming up the stairs."

Indeed, their merry friend poked his head through the door only a moment later, his jolly curls adorned with a floppy red hat.

"Thought I might find you two up here."

"Hey, George." Leslie, using the sofa to push herself to her feet, caught sight of her wristwatch and did a double-take. "Is it really that late?"

"23:00 hours, last I checked." George turned to Don. "We gotta head out before Sobel realizes we're still gone and gives us hell for it tomorrow."

"Shit, you're right."

As Don went to grab his shirt from the other side of the room, George flashed Leslie an apologetic grimace.

"Sorry, Sparky, your boyfriend's comin' with us."

"'S fine," she said through a yawn, only now realizing how tired she was. "It's gonna ice up out there as it gets colder without the sun. Prob'ly already has. Be careful walking back."

"We will," George chirped, a smirk bleeding into his smile, and the look puzzled Leslie, who was so used to his teasing that she had completely overlooked his insinuation of her and Don's romance. George, on the other hand, had caught her nonchalant reaction and hence assumed precisely what he wanted to.

"Take some eggnog with you on your way out," Leslie advised, oblivious to the cause of George's delight, "the guys'll love you for it."

"Good idea," he praised. "Think we could use those thermoses you and Skip brought, Malark?"

"Hmm?" Don glanced between George and Leslie. "Oh, yeah. Sure."

"Great! Oh, shit." George hopped in place, leaning back to look down the stairs. "Someone just opened the door, I can feel the cold coming into the house."

"Then we'd better go and close it behind us."

Don kissed the top of Leslie's head on his way past. The last thing she saw of him that night was not his smile like she wished but the pom-poms swinging from his arms, still clad in that mess of a sweater he loved unabashedly. Listening to the voices downstairs, stuck in place like the sycamore in her backyard at home, Leslie became abruptly aware of her every breath. She heard the front door shut and realized her arms were outstretched, reaching for something (or someone) she did not think she had the right to take. She pulled her hands back and went so far as to put them behind her back, tugging at her fingers self-consciously although no one was there to see.

"Merry Christmas," she whispered to herself and crossed the hall to a bed meant for two but kept by one.

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

#leslie sheppard #donald malarkey #band of brothers #destiny carries a wrench #audra 'tink' luchette #kelani palekiko #band of brothers oc ficlet #band of brothers oc #band of brothers ficlet #hbo war show #hbo war show oc #hbo war show oc ficlet #hbo war show ficlet #oc ficlet #oc fanfiction #100k words #woohoo!!

9 notes · View notes

avocado-frog · 1 year

Text

I am Actively Procrastinating (find the word tag)

thank you @the-stray-storyteller for the tag you're very cool

---

Snow (from a halloween thing I wrote once- never posted it because never finished)-

He wondered if the girl's blood still stained the sidewalk beneath the five-foot pile of snow. He hoped that snow was enough to wash it away.

He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, vision blurring, as he struggled to fit the cardboard back over the window. When he finally managed, it fell off again, and Logan gave up, sliding down the wall and shoved his aching fingers in the coat of his pocket. The inside of it was satin, and didn't retain any warmth, but it was all he had until his parents came back.

He blew on his hands, and even his breath was cold, and he faintly registered that his fingertips were a light shade of blue. That was probably bad.

Trail(ed) not actually sure where this is from i just sort of found it

"Did you just wake up to insult me and pass out again. Fucker."

"N... no, I'm- I'm still here."

Leo sighed in relief again, and leaned against his bed. "Oh, good. Hey, what sort of thing is on your face?"

"...skin."

"Fuck off. I'm serious, do you know? Is it anesthesia, nitrous oxide, oxygen...?" She trailed off when she realized she didn't know any other ones.

Cackled/ing (from a chapter i was supposed to post five days ago but it is unbelievably long so i didn't

"Woah," Lily said, unsure how else to respond. "Which one?"

Logan, as far as she knew, had seven siblings, including the dead one. He never met three of them.

"Uh," Logan turned his phone back on. "...Emile? I didn't know he existed. He needed something for a family tree for school and thinks I'm... fifty-seven."

Lily cackled, and Logan sighed in disappointment.

Outline (future chapter) (warning for blood I guess)

Leo didn't know what to do from here.

There was no way anyone could see her, unless Jaxon ran to get help. She could see his outline having stared at her for a long time, before running off. Leo also couldn't climb back up.

The only option was to fall the rest of the distance to the ground. Her spine might already be broken, anyways. She was sure that she would be out like a light before she even hit the ground.

God, this sucked.

(and then I didn't have anything for shattered)

No pressure tagging: @mynroli

@idreamofhamandcheese

@bi-karibe-chick

As usual, just use the same words as I did because I'm really lazy

#find the word tag #soon i wont get to use the 'use the same words as i did' thing because now i actually have people to tah #writing #original work #writeblr #writers #tag game

4 notes · View notes

dokifluffs · 3 years

Text

Lookie | Bokuto Kōtarō

Pairing: Bokuto X Reader (female) ft. Kuroo, Kenma, and Akaashi

Genre: fluffyyy, surprise domestic

Author’s Note: I WANNA BE Y/N

gif from @rivaillerose

“Kenma, you gotta hurry or else you’re gonna get blown away,” Kuroo called as he paused, the bitter frozen winter wind blowing right into his face

He tightened his grip around the bag in his hand while Kenma shuffled through the inches high snow, not a single big of his face showing as he hid himself in his bundled layers to keep warm

The two walked through the blizzard with Kuroo walking behind Kenma, walking toward the house

With a brief knock on the door, the door opened to Akaashi as he stood there

“Where’s Kenma?” He asked

“Here,” Kuroo raised his arm, revealing Kenma at his side, facing into Kuroo’s body to stay as warm as possible

The two entered and stripped their layers and boots, letting the warmth envelope the two of them completely

“Thanks for bringing chips,” Akaashi said as he took the bag from Kuroo

“No problem. Are Bokuto and Y/N running late again?” Kuroo asked as he noted the silence in the house

“Actually no, they got here a few hours ago. They’re on the couch.”

And with that, the three of them made their way to the living room of Akaashi’s house, for the occasional movie night and sleepover

The three walked in on Bokuto as comfy in his regular spot on the couch, a warm blanket nu, smiley as ever but quieter than normal and with his face looking down into his sweater

“What’re you doing?”

“And where’s Y/N?” Kenma spoke as he quite enjoyed your company yet you were nowhere to be found

“Shhh,” Bokuto shushed them almost louder than the two cats spoke

He was giddy and he seemed like he was about to explode from excitement or something but he couldn’t

“Lookie!” He happily waved the two over as he pulled his collar

“Huh?” Kuroo confused as ever

The two hesitated as they just looked to Akaashi

“Just trust him,” Akaashi commented from the side, smiling himself at his best friends

The two leaned forward and their questions had been answered

There you were, fast asleep against Bokuto’s bare chest inside his sweater, cuddled close beneath the blanket too

It was like there were stars forming in Bokuto’s eyes as he adorned you in the position you were in

“She looks so comfy,” Kenma said quietly, a tinge of envy in his voice as he was still freezing cold from the journey here

“She actually has a bit of a fever-“

“But she can’t go home in his weather or she’ll get even worse and I didn’t want her to be alone while we were all watching a movie, so she’s here with me,” Bokuto cut off Akaashi but spoke every word with his chest as he squeezed you closer to him

“Alright then,” Kuroo said quietly, only for Bokuto to dramatically shush him once again

“Don’t wake my little bean,” the ace practically whisper yelled to Kuroo

“I didn’t even- fine,” he gave up as he grabbed a blanket and found his seat

For the rest of the night, Bokuto could hardly focus on the movie

His heart did flips every time he looked into his shirt and there you were, your cheek squished against his warm skin, your lips jutted out just a bit so it looked like you were pouting

Your hair and breath tickled his chest and stomach but he didn’t mind it a single bit

The others could hear and feel the bubbliness emanating from his persona throughout the entire movies

The little laugh he would give when you moved a little or when he played with your hair or booped your face

His occasional movement, that you had gotten used to sleeping on him, to reposition himself

But also how quiet he was whenever a jump scare popped up

He was always the first one to yell or leave the room but not tonight

He couldn’t focus

How could he when you were right there and you were fast asleep on him

You were his precious little bean and he wanted to make sure you got all the rest you needed to make a speedy recovery

But oh all the times he had to refrain himself with smothering you with his kisses

He just wanted you to shower you with all the love in his big heart for you

He wrapped his arms and legs around you, not wanting to let you go even for a millisecond tonight

Domestic bonus:

The popcorn popped in the microwave as the paper brown bag expanded and expanded, always making you nervous that one day you would open it and it would just explode into your face

but you just watched as the bag expanded

you could hear subtle noises coming from the living room but before you could look, the final beep of the microwave sounded off in the kitchen

“Hot, hot, hot.” You barely held onto the hot bag with your fingertips as you juggled it to prevent burning yourself

You poured the bag into a large bowl, bringing it to your living room

and that’s when your heart melted

“Peek-a-boo!” your husband lifted the collar of his shirt, his face disappearing as he called, the living room erupting with laughter from your daughter as she giggled contently

“Where’d she go?” He “closed” the collar of his baggy tank top, teasing her as your little girl hid herself under his shirt, hiding her face into his chest

“Here she is!” he opened his collar again, more laughter ans squeals erupting from both of them as he pulled her out, sitting her in his lap, playing with her, giving her butterfly kisses as her small hands reached out to cup his face

“She’s swo cwute,” he turned to you, his cheeks being squished by his daughter. “Ooh! Popcown!”

Both their eyes lit up as they turned to you, Kotaro lifting his baby girl in his arms as he made his way over to your side

Though only you and Kotaro ate the popcorn while your baby girl played with his clean hand, the occasional giggle coming from her as he tickled her

but to be honest, the two of you could barely pay attention to the tv when you two had your little girl

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged for all my haikyuu posts): @makeusfreefromthisfandom @yams046 @mazey-chan @sunboikyo00 @kara-grayson04 @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair @katiea03 @omg-haikyuu @chesirekittycat @ilovecheese08

#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x reader #bokuto #bokuto kotaro #bokuto kotaro x reader #bokuto kotaro imagines #bokuto kotaro scenarios #bokuto kotaro headcanons #bokuto imagines #bokuto x reader #bokuto scenarios #bokuto headcanons #dokifluffs

753 notes · View notes

taylorkellyreporting · 2 years

Text

i hope no one minds if i liveblog this bitch: the captain swan show rewatch edition 🪝 🦢

right s2 let’s go

snow reuniting with her family 🥺

poor emma :/ must be so bittersweet

“i thought you’d changed.” “what, in the hour you’ve known me?” lmfaooo

i gain killian and sleeping warrior this season!!

“i made a promise to henry. she’s not dying.” parents die all the time, he’ll get over it. let that bitch GO

“you love him.” oh baby not in the way you think

rewatching the hat scene in regina’s office and it’s so obvious to me now that emma had magic in her like it wouldn’t work til she gripped regina’s arm

“i don’t want to hurt anyone!” “hard to believe you’re from the same family.” oh you’ll believe it eventually

“gramps” 🥺

regina is such a horrible mother idk how henry tolerates her

henry calling regina out for what she’s done to him👏🏻

“you will hold the hearts of your people in your hands.” lady you have no idea

“and i won’t become like her?” you’ll be worse

letting henry leave with charming was the only selfless thing that regina has ever done

regina: i want to redeem myself

also regina: *continues doing terrible shit*

henry and charming taking a drink of their sodas at the same time was so cute

“we can’t do that with our tales between our legs! no offense.” 😭😭

“have you ever seen an ogre?” “pretty sure i’ve dated a few.” pls i love her

“when is the last time you shot an arrow?!” “28 years ago. guess it’s like riding a bike.” 😭

mama charming 🥺

“actually, she’s my mom.” aurora’s face gjvjfjsk

“what kind of corset is this?” 😭

josh has such beautiful eyes, woah

snow and charming having lancelot marry them so mama charming can be there to see it, i’m crying

the way that’s not even lance

“is there…something i need to know?” lmaoooo

“you gave up…everything for me. and you’re still doing that.” i love their relationship so damn much

“i’m not used to someone putting me first” 😭

oh God snow crying as she looks at the nursery!! shoot me and it would still hurt less

rewatching emma and killian scenes is gonna hit so hard like they hated each other at first and all i’m gonna think about is how the series ends with them happily married and parents to a baby girl 🥹

henry’s face as he’s watching jefferson reunite with his daughter 🥺 he misses emma so much

that nasty old man watching charming and henry :/

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE MY HUSBAND MY NUMBER ONE HE’S FINALLY HERE

disney+ having the description for this episode be that rumple tries to save his wife being taken by pirates is so funny knowing she leaves him willingly

hate that i have to watch more of rumple’s past in order to get killy but yk what it’s worth it

ladies and gentlemen…him.

and from this moment on…the show changed forever

“he’s a tad taller than you described” 😭

sexy ass mofo

“on your feet for the captain” i’d be on my feet…knees…anyway-

“you have my wife.” “i’ve had many a man’s wives” pls

oh how i wish that belle would’ve stayed at the library, been best friends with red and eventually fallen in love with will

he’s so fine pls

gold going to charming for help, oh i know he’s desperate

this pic is so soft🥺

oh brother, mila wasn’t stolen

riiighhht he took his heart

oh wait no it was his hand he takes duh lmao

“are you asking for dating advice?” “of course not, no” plsjdjfjfksb

skipping every rumbelle scene is self care <3

and now he’s captain hook :)

really wish belle wasn’t so weak

LMAOO THERE’S NO BEAN IN HIS HAND

emma and killian soon!!

those poor people cora ruthlessly slaughtered :(

them <3

THEY FOUND KILLIAN, IT’S HAPPENING

neither knows that they’re looking at the love of their life i’m gonna cry

love the intro this ep

hit my pic limit so gonna make another post 👍🏼wasn’t gonna post ep by ep but here we are

34 notes · View notes

harold231 · 3 years

Text

It wasn't real

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Posted: 04/30/2021

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: None? Maybe a lil angst just a lel bet.

A/N: I think it might be good? Idk You let me know. But like frfr, don't just give me feedback in your mind, put it into words. Also I apparently have a thing for Bucky in a dotted apron soooo yeah.

FYI: time zone/era is open for interpretation. Bucky never became an avenger/soldat and steve isn't part of this one.

The wind that blew around you was warm and sweet with the scent of freshly bloomed flowers. Perhaps it was an act of kindness from some God trying to distract you from the cold bitterness settling into your bones. Closing your eyes you conjure the very memory that left you so desolate.

The sun snuck it's way through the curtains to illuminate the room, effectively disturbing the sleep that you always seemed to be craving. Waking up is always hassle but whenever you remember that you get to spend your day with the only person who tolerates you and you him, getting out of bed is the easiest thing. Bucky is crazy and the damn boy is never in one spot for to long and he always has something to say, but you can't imagine how boring your days would be if you guys had never met. well technically if your parents had never met.

When you were a child you parents had to move to new york for business and they decided that Brooklyn was the place to be. You had been Bucky's neighbor and the first day you guys moved in his mom had dragged him over with the most delicious angel food cake that he so proudly claimed to have made mostly on his own. He just loved cooking and baking since forever, he would tell you that he just liked experimenting with foods but you knew the truth was that the boy liked to eat and didn't have the patience to wait for his mother to come home.

Only a few years after your family had moved to Brooklyn you and Bucky had already built an unbreakable bond. You guys had found a beautiful cherry tree one day when playing tag and had deemed it to be your's and Bucky's spot. Whenever you had a bad day or needed time away from the world you guys would go to the tree and just pick cherries, in the winter time you and Bucky would lay under the tree and kick the trunk so that the snow would fall from the leaves. It was the place where at only 15 years old bucky swore he would open his own Bakery and to quote him "I'm serving my ma's food my way doll, It's gonna be the next best thing to hit New York."

You were laying on the ground with your hands crossed behind your head looking up at Bucky swinging upside down from a branch when he told you all this. You felt something you had never felt before at that moment, looking up at the wild haired boy who loved to eat, loved his family, and had the most ambition you had ever heard from kids your age. Your heart felt full and your cheeks grew warm as you looked up at the same blue eyes you had know for years now, only this time you notice the way they twinkle in the sunlight and how rosy his lips are. Now 7 years laters you and Bucky were preparing to open the very bakery he promised you he'd open. Banners were beautifully strung along the walls and cute retro china was set out, ready to be filled for opening day. There was no hesitation from you when Bucky had asked you to run the bakery with him, you were excited to spend your days with the person you hoped you would spend the rest of your life with.

At around 6:30 in the morning you had arrived at the bakery but it seemed that Bucky had beat you to it. The smell of fresh angel food cake and cocoa danced up your nose as soon as you opened the door. Closing your eyes you smiled at the memories that it brought back. Moving to the back you grabbed your Disney themed apron and placed your bag and coat in its place before scurrying over to the kitchen while trying (and failing) to tie your apron. There in all his dorkiness was Bucky wiggling around to the chordettes. He knew that you loved the 50's aesthetic so he found a way to incorporate it without going overboard, by adding little trinkets, a jukebox, and even those cute little dining tables. In fact at the moment he was wearing a ruffly red polka dotted apron as he frosted some cupcakes.

Apron tied, you were finally ready to get to work. You walked up to Bucky bumping his hip as you reached for some cupcake pans, "Whatcha doin here so early Buck, we don't open until 12" he looks at you with squinted eyes, "The hell are you doing here so early." "Woah,woah,woah completely unprovoked. I'm just saying cuz' you were the one complaining about the opening time being set at 8. Like damn." Breathing out a huff of air he wipes his forehead with a towel "I'm sorry doll, I'm just super nervous and I couldn't sleep so I came to start baking things. I already frosted the ice cream cakes and I just finished the pies, but I was thinking that maybe we needed some cupcakes too, even though we already baked so many pastries and stuff last night I'm worried it won't be enough."

Setting down the trays you move to hug Bucky from behind holding him close to you. "Buck I know we'll do great your food is too good to pass up on especially when it's free." You place a soft kiss to his shoulder " I promise you'll do great, everything you do is amazing you try your hardest at everything Buck, You've worked your butt off and made mine considerably larger to get here, don't start losing your mind on me now." A cute little laugh from Bucky lets you know that he's hearing you and he isn't so stressed anymore. "I just want this to be perfect ya know?" with your head still against his back you nod, "I just want it to be a special day for my special girl."

You couldn't stop the slight blush that rose to your cheeks or the way that your heart suddenly started beating three times faster. You had also wanted to make him something special which is why you had got here so early. Finally releasing your hold on Bucky you straighten your apron out before gathering everything you need for some red velvet cupcakes. Bucky loved your red velvet cake so you loved making it for him. After hours of mixing, baking, and frosting had passed, you guys were rewarded with a bakery that looked as great as it smelled. "Alright doll, I'm heading out, I gotta go get ready. Meet you back here at 12 , Love ya." He didn't even give you a chance to answer as he ran right out the door. "Love you too."

You had stayed behind just a little while longer as you perfected your secret project. Carefully you added snowflakes to some of the cupcakes because you knew how much he loved snow even if he hated winter, some cats, flowers that reminded you of bucky, and one extra special cupcake. When you finish you decide to clean up a bit more and prepare some drinks for later before heading home to get ready. As soon as you got home you took a shower and did the simplest of make up with a light pink lip. You had decided to wear a dress to match the blossoming flowers that spring had brought. Pink with a yellow lace trim and flowers embroided all over the dress, matching it with some yellow flats.

You had decided that it was a perfect day for a walk so you grabbed a light scarf and slung it over your shoulders, grabbed Bucky's cupcakes, and headed over to the bakery. You felt as if a Hundred pounds had been lifted from your shoulders knowing that Bucky had felt the same way about you. You had decided that you would tell him today with your special cupcakes. As you rounded the corner you felt giddy and you couldn't wipe the smile from your face no matter how hard you tried. As you reached the bakery you saw that a majority of the people had already arrived and you knew that it would put Bucky at ease to see all the people enjoying his food. You stopped at the window, closing your eyes to take a deep breath to prepare yourself to join the celebration.

Opening your eyes you reached for the handle only to stop at the sight on the other side of the door. Bucky stood there arms wrapped around a woman eyes locked on hers as he leaned in for a kiss. It must have all happened in about 30 seconds but it felt as if time himself had slowed it down for you to watch the way he tilted her head and ran his tongue along her bottom lip before finally uniting their lips. Your heart dropped as quickly as your smile did and suddenly you felt so stupid for thinking this could be real. You willed yourself not to cry as you allowed your legs to carry you anywhere but there.

That's how you found yourself sitting underneath a blossoming cherry tree. A tree that held only happy memories because it wasn't a place you could be sad... back then. With your back against the tree and box of cupcakes full of unrequited love in your lap you realize how much you over romanticized Bucky. Opening the box you decide it would be a shame to let them go to waste. The first one you grab has a big red heart frosted in the middle, you let out a deep sigh before breaking the cupcake right down the middle. You shove half of the cupcake into your mouth and only then do you allow the tears to fall. You sat there for hours crying eating cupcakes, watching the sunset, and thinking about everything that Bucky did for you, as a friend. You realize you had no right to be angry at Bucky, after all you never told him how you felt you just assumed that he would feel the same way after so many years. With every broken memory another cupcake vanished.

He was always there for you, when no one wanted to come to your slumber party Bucky did and he even did all the girly things with you. Painting your nails, doing your hair, watching chick flicks, and pillow fights. once he even asserted that no one could protect you as well as he could, when you had decided to go camping with your friend from class so he insisted on taking you himself. Your friend was most noticeably gay so you had assumed he wanted to spend time alone with you. But now that you think back on those memories these are things that anyone would do for their bestfriend. And that's what you realized 8 hours and 11 cupcakes later.

The moon floated above you and as it's white rays settled upon the lake you decided it might be time to go home now. You get up and dust your dress off before leaning down to grab the mostly empty box. Turning around you are stopped again by what's in front of you. Bucky stands there brows furrowed as his eyes flash from you to the box in your hands. "Where the hell have you been, I've been calling you all day." swallowing the lump in your throat you go to answer but are interrupted. " everyone's been asking me about you all night and I had no damn idea what to tell them, but apparently you were just out here being inconsiderate. You go and tell me I can do great tonight, that you'd be there for me, but you weren't." You try to answer him but are again interrupted. "You could have told me something earlier instead of leaving me there like a dumb-" "SHUT UP!" this time it was your turn to interrupt him.

Taking a deep breath you look into his eyes before explaining. "Of course I was ready to be there today, you think I wore this dress to sit under a damn tree? Well I didn't. When I left my apartment I was ready and I was excited, so excited. I couldn't even stop smiling on my way over, but then I got to the shop and I saw-" Immediately you stopped as you realized what you were about to say. He cocked an eyebrow and shook his head slightly as if to say 'Hello?' "You saw what? What did you see that would make you abandon ship just like that?" Shame flushed through your being and you could no longer keep eye contact. "Nothing, you know what, it doesn't even matter. I'm sorry I was being dramatic I should have been an adult and dealt with it on my own time. And I'm sorry I abandoned you all, but the night was about you anyways."

"The night was supposed to be about the both of us so it does matter if you saw something that made you want to leave. Just tell me doll, what did you see?" his voice is soft as he pleads with you. "I saw... well I saw you kissing that lady and I just wanted get away and ended up here okay!?" You said it all in a jumble hoping that he wouldn't be able to understand what you had said. But luck wasn't your friend so of course he did. "So seeing me kiss another person was so gross to you that you had to run away, what the hell? are you 13 again?" You hadn't admitted it outloud yet and it seemed that the dumbass in front of you was going to force it out of you.

Stepping around Bucky you pull your scarf tight around your body as you focus on not crying anymore until you get home. You distract yourself by thinking of all the love you saw in all the little things Bucky did for you. Dancing around the newly furnished bakery body against body as frank sinatra brought you heart to heart, watching rom-coms and ugly crying together, but by the time you get home you force yourself to face the ugly truth. The Love was always in your head. It wasn't real.

A new wave of tears blurred your vision as teardrops fell perfectly to the ground. "It's because I have feelings for you Bucky, and I now know you don't feel the same way." Sniffling you don't bother looking up because your heart is to broken for that right now. "I'm Just gonna need a little bit of time and I'll be back good as new like nothing even happened." Still unable to lift your gaze from the ground you decide to focus on the last cupcake left in the box. 'I Love You' is written in tiny light blue frosting letters. "I uhm, uhh." That brought your attention to Bucky, as embarrassment pulsed as strong as ever through your veins. " You don't have to say anything Buck, It's fine, I'll see you next week, on monday" you hand him the box as you go to pass him "I think you would have a better use for this than me I ate 11 others already so."

Divider credits: @firefly-graphics

92 notes · View notes

gerrycoco · 3 years

Text

Here are chapter 4 and 5 of the TOL fanfic I’m writing based on @nwarrior777 comic. I’d been meaning to post chapter 4 a while back but hadn’t been sure where my cut off was between these two chapters until I finished them today.

Hope you enjoy and more should be coming soon hopefully!

You can also read this fic on ao3

Chapter 4

The weeks ticked away slowly but surely at the Academy, summer turning into fall and steadily veering into winter. I continued to have the best of fun with Tamara doing all sorts of shenanigans.

With the end of October came Halloween where she snuck us out to go trick or treating when Halloween came around. As we finished up grabbing as much candy as we could, I only half noticed how cold the weather was becoming.

A few weeks later there came the first snowfall, which everyone was super excited about. After a particularly big snowfall most of the residents of the Academy, myself and Tamara included, found ourselves in the outdoor courtyard making snowmen.

Given my nature of not being very good at anything, my own attempts at making a snowman were quite subpar. I could see others not far away snickering among themselves, probably whispering about how ironic it was that someone with ice powers was so bad at stuff involving snow.

I was rather preoccupied by my increasing discomfort at being in the cold to really notice them. Tamara, however, glared in their direction as she joined me after reappearing from having gone to get some extra accessories for our snowmen. "Don't listen to them, Demian," she said, "this isn't a competition or anything, the whole point is just to have fun."

"Yeah I know," I replied, trying to blow on my hands to get them warmer, which only made things worse as with my powers all I did was blow frost over my fingers. It was then that I realized that I didn't have to go about making a snowman the old fashion way. Stretching my hands out in front of me me I tried summoning the snow around me to form into a shape.

"Demian maybe that isn't a good idea," Tamara said, her voice filled with concern, "the doctors told you to be careful about how long you spend in the snow and you already look really cold. I think we should go back inside."

"Hang on, just give me a minute," I managed to reply despite my teeth chattering loudly due to how cold I was. A small crowd of others had come by to watch curiously and I was not about to give them another reason to tease me. Within moments I'd accumulated a pile of snow that I was twisting and bending with frost from my own hands. I’d stopped shivering by then so I ignored how painfully cold I was feeling and concentrated to finish what I was doing.

Soon I had made a full sized snowman, but this time shaped like an actual human. "Tada," I said, with difficulty, now that my whole face felt frozen, "say hello to snow Tamara!" The others all gasped as they came closer to inspect the near perfect snow and ice replica of my friend.

Tamara herself however looked at me, a very stern expression on her face as she grabbed my hand and teleported us inside. Once she was done she dropped my hand and glared at me, looking quite mad. "What were you thinking?! That was dangerous!" she exclaimed loudly.

"What do you mean?" I meant to ask, surprised by how angry she looked. I never got the chance to do so though as everything suddenly went dark.

***********************************************

"You got him here just in time so thankfully he's going to be alright," I heard an unknown voice say.

I groaned as I tried to stir, finding that my whole body was tingling from the sensation of me slowly defrosting. With difficulty I managed to open my eyes, to see that I was in the back room of the infirmary.

"What, what happened?" I asked, the words slightly slurred as my mouth and tongue still hadn't regained full sensation.

"You did something really stupid is what happened," Tamara spat out, angrily wiping tears from her eyes. She then ran out of the room, leaving me alone with who I now saw was a nurse.

“Tamara wait!” I called out. I tried to sit up so I could go after her but realized I was still too numb to do so.

“Woah take it easy there,” the nurse said, putting a hand on my shoulder to prevent me from trying again. “You need to stay lying down for a while longer, your body likely can’t tolerate going into an upright position just yet,” he explained to me. “Right now you need to rest. The doctor should be here shortly to check up on you to make sure you’re doing alright.”

I sighed unhappily but nodded in resignation. The image of Tamara’s face was burnt into my mind as I replayed the scene again over and over again. She had looked so scared and hurt, I felt terrible for putting her through what I imagined was a rather frightening experience.

My wallowing was interrupted by the arrival of the doctor, who I saw was the same I had met when first arriving at the Academy. “We meet again young man,” he said, though he clearly was far from delighted to be seeing me at the present. “That was a very foolish thing you did back there.”

“Yeah I know…” I replied, feeling the guilt weigh on my chest. Added to the fact that I fail at basically everything, I’ve also never exactly been known for being a particularly smart person. Even back at home, my family would usually avoid leaving me alone for extended periods of time.

“It’s a good thing your friend was there and that she was able to teleport you back inside when she did,” the doctor went on, his brows creasing into a concerned frown. He looked over at the monitor I’d been hooked up to and then picked up the chart on my bedside to examine it as well. “Thankfully you hadn’t gone far beyond moderate hypothermia and so your loss of consciousness was likely a form of rewarming shock.”

“I… I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad..” I said, feeling quite scared myself now that the reality of what had just happened was sinking in. “I wasn’t even shivering at the end.”

“Well that’s because shivering is only associated with the milder forms of hypothermia,” the doctor explained, putting the chart down and pulling out a small flashlight from his pocket. He then proceeded to point it in front of each eye and had me follow the beam with my gaze. “We already knew that you would be more sensitive to cold, but it appears now that because of your powers you’ve gone from warm blooded to cold blooded, no pun intended.”

“You mean, like a lizard?” I asked, my brain feeling a bit fuzzy as I tried to process what the doctor was telling me while spots danced in my vision from having the flashlight directed at my eyes.

“Yes precisely, or almost anyway,” the doctor replied, “cold-blooded creatures can’t internally cool themselves off while you have no problem with that. However, like them, you appear to have difficulty with generating sufficient body heat without some external help, which would explain why you progressed so quickly into an increasing hypothermic state.”

I simply blinked at him in response, his sciency explanations were too much for my thawing brain to understand. He appeared to see the look of overall confusion in my eyes and he gave me a small half-smile as he put the flashlight away in his pocket.

“The point is,” he went on, “from now on you will have to take extra special care to make sure you only spend short periods of time in cold environments.”

********************************************* I took the doctor’s word very seriously once I was allowed to leave the infirmary. Not only did I completely avoid going outside, I also made sure to always have an extra warm sweater as well as a hoodie wherever I went. While it might have been overkill, I didn’t want to risk anything happening again.

Mostly I kept to myself as the others gave me looks whenever I was in the common areas or the cafeteria. They had either been there to see me almost freeze to death or had heard about it as gossip spread rapidly around the Academy. I therefore spent the next few days in my room waiting for something new to happen so they wouldn’t be focused on me anymore. Time passed slowly though as I spent it alone seeing Tamara and I hadn’t spoken since the incident.

While normally she was constantly popping into my room to hang out, almost a week went by without me seeing her at all. She had obviously been very upset by my actions and I figured she was still mad at me about it. I really wanted to go and apologize, but, because of her teleportation powers, Tamara was very good at making sure she wasn’t able to be found if she didn’t want to be.

After a few days I decided it had gone on for long enough and decided to park myself outside her room. I figured if I stayed there at one point she’d have no choice but to talk to me. There was always the risk of her teleporting in and out of her room without ever having to use the door, but Tamara could usually only teleport so many times in a day before it started draining her too much and she risked ending up in the wrong place.

I decided then to go and wait outside her bedroom door after dinner time since she was more likely to be tired then and therefore less likely to use her powers to disappear on me. I’d been sitting there for a while, just scrolling on my phone as I waited, when I finally saw her walking down the hallway towards her room. She hadn’t noticed me yet, her head bent and gaze stuck around her shoes, looking about as miserable as I had been feeling.

“Tamara!” I called out, popping her out of her thoughts as her head snapped up at the sound of my voice. At this point she was about ten steps away from her door and I could see in her eyes that she was weighing whether it was worth it to try teleporting past me.

I stood up quickly and walked the distance between us, putting my hand on her arm. “Tamara, please,” I pleaded, “can we talk? I’d really like to apologize…”

She grimaced for a moment then let out a sigh. “Fine,” she replied, removing my hand and going to her bedroom door. I followed closely as she opened it, hoping that she wouldn’t dash in just to slam the door in my face. Instead she held the door open and gestured for me to come inside.

I went and sat down on the chair by the desk while Tamara shut the door before going to sit on the end of her bed. She glanced quickly in my direction before looking away and crossing her arms, visibly still quite upset with me.

I’d spent the time waiting outside her room going through how best to apologize to her, but in that moment all scenarios vanished from my mind as we sat in silence while I tried to figure out the best way to start. “So… I guess I’ll just start off by saying that I’m aware that what I did was really stupid and dangerous and I’m sorry for doing that to you…”

Tamara was silent for a beat before turning to look at me. “What were you even thinking doing that?” she interrogated. “Even without using your powers you’re more at risk when it’s cold, but with what you did you just made it 10 times worse! So what, you just couldn’t help but show off, right?”

I stared at her, surprised for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to me that by using my powers I’d put myself in even greater danger, although thinking about it now it did make sense. “No I wasn’t trying to show off, at least I don’t think so…” I replied, feeling quite uneasy. “I was failing at making a snowman the normal way just like I fail with everything else and then I remembered I have ice powers so, like, why not use the one thing I’m good at that’s actually relevant to the situation for once.”

“You’re telling me you made a snow person that looked just like me and it wasn’t just so you could look good in front of the others after they had made fun of you?” Tamara retorted, looking rather skeptical.

“I mean, maybe a tiny bit,” I admitted, “but mostly I did it because I thought it would make you smile. You’re always doing nice things for me so I just wanted to be able to do something nice for you too for once.”

“R-really?” Tamara asked, her tone now very different.

“Yeah, I just thought it would be funny for you to have a snow twin,” I said, letting out a nervous chuckle.

At this Tamara finally gave me a small smile before it fell away and she suddenly looked quite sad. “I guess I thought you had ignored my warning because you were too busy trying to impress the others. And maybe deep down a part of me was also scared that if it worked you were going to find new friends and wouldn’t want to hang out with me anymore…”

“What? Tamara no of course not…” I replied, getting up from the chair and going to sit down next to her on the bed. “You’re my best friend Tamara, you’re my only friend really. You’re also the reason nothing worse happened since you pretty much saved my life by teleporting us back inside when you did.”

“Damn right I did,” Tamara retorted with a smirk. “I hope you learned your lesson because I might not always be there to save your butt.”

“Oh don’t worry, I don’t plan on making the same mistake again,” I laughed. Tamara gave me a real smile this time and leaned over to hug me tightly.

“Okay enough talk about snow and ice now, how about we go get some hot cocoa?” I suggested.

“Good idea,” Tamara replied before teleporting us out of her room.

Chapter 5

While I was quite happy to be hanging out with Tamara once again, our time together afterwards was somewhat short lived. Her one year at the Academy was coming to an end and shortly before Christmas she returned home to her family. Thankfully, during the holidays, the Academy made special allowances where they hosted an annual Christmas party and other fun events for family and friends. With this I was kept well occupied up until New Years after which things went back to normal, leaving me to find myself mostly alone once again.

I was able to see my family during visiting weeks of course, but I still wasn’t having much luck in finding any other friends now that Tamara was gone. No one really cared about me when I wasn’t using my powers and ever since my last incident I’d basically decided against doing anything ice related unless it was actually useful, which in the dead of winter it really wasn’t.

Although my own one year milestone was still a good few months away, I figured I could start looking at different job possibilities to look forward to once I was able to return home. It was better than dying of boredom in the meantime. After all, the Academy had a department set up for the exact purpose of counseling and preparing those who wished to find themselves jobs once their time was up.

This didn’t end up being the most successful endeavor however. While the counselors were very nice and tried to look at different options with me, they had a hard time finding anything that would be a good fit. I’m not sure what I was expecting really, since by being not so great at basically everything I didn’t exactly have very many employable skills. The other issue is that usually the main solution is to try to find something that works with a person’s specific powers. In my case though, this didn’t pan out much since all the actual real jobs that would hire someone with ice powers involved working in very cold environments, and I was not going to make that same mistake twice.

“Unfortunately the only other option I can find is volunteer work,” Lenny, the counselor who had been assigned my case, informed me. “That means you wouldn’t be paid, but it would still be something if ever you’re interested.”

I left the employment center feeling quite disappointed as I headed towards the cafeteria. It was family visiting day and my mom would be arriving soon. Multiple parents and other family members had already started arriving as I entered the cafeteria and sat down at a table while I waited. A few minutes later I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Hi mom,” I said, doing my best to smile as I turned to hug her before she sat down next to me.

“What’s wrong honey?” my mom asked directly. “Something is up, I can tell.”

I blinked with surprise at this. I’d forgotten how perceptive my mom could be. “I… well…” I started, going on to explain to her my less than promising visit with the employment department. “So I might not be able to get an actual job once I’m done here…” I added, looking down at my hands, blinking my eyes madly as I tried not to cry.

“I see,” my mother replied. She reached over to take one of my hands in her own and gave it a tight squeeze. I looked up at her to see her smiling warmly at me. “Demian, just remember that no matter what happens, whether you manage to find a job or not, you will always have a place at home waiting for you,” she said tenderly as her free hand went to wipe away a tear that had slid down my cheek.

I gave her a watery smile as I leaned in to hug her tightly. “Thank you mom, I love you,” I said, sniffling softly.

“I love you too sweetheart,” my mother replied, hugging me back just as tightly. “Always have and always will.

****************************************

After the visit with my mother I felt somewhat better about my future beyond the Academy. Though I still didn’t exactly know how I would ever manage to find a job, I also knew that I couldn’t give up trying.

My mood was also greatly improved by Tamara’s sudden and unexpected return to the Academy mid February. She’d had an unfortunate mishap with her powers, although she hadn’t really wanted to talk about it much upon her return. Bottom line was that she needed to be monitored at the Academy for another year now because of it. While I found that extremely unfortunate for her, I was also, rather selfishly, quite happy to have her back around.

It was only about a month later that she was finally willing to explain to me what had happened. Apparently when she had gone back home she had bumped into a former partner she had been dating not long before she had arrived at the Academy. They stayed in contact for the first little while after she had discovered her powers, however the long distance slowly became a strain on their relationship.

“At that point we agreed it was best to take a break and reconnect once I was able to go back home after my year was up,” Tamara explained to me.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” I asked, feeling surprised and almost a bit hurt that I’d never heard about this before.

“I guess I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high just in case it didn’t work out,” she replied. “In the end that’s what happened because when I finally saw them again they were dating someone else…”

“Oh Tamara… I’m so sorry…” I said, gently putting my hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she said, though she had a sad look in her eye. “It was for the best really, I don’t think we would’ve lasted very long in the end. But this happened on Valentine's Day of all days so needless to say I wasn’t feeling great after that. After seeing them together with their new partner I almost ran home, trying not to cry. I tried to teleport back but instead of my room I somehow ended up on Mars.”

“Mars?! You mean, like the planet?” I asked, shocked and confused.

“Yep,” Tamara replied. “Luckily I quickly teleported back to Earth, first in Antarctica and then at the top of the Eiffel Tower. It took a few tries but I finally made it home before coming back here and begging them to put me on blockators. I felt like I was going insane.”

“Wow that’s crazy,” I said, not sure what else to say at this point.

“Yeah…” Tamara acquiesced, her gaze downcast. “I’ve never really been lucky with dating anyway so I guess it’s not really all that surprising. I am a bit much after all and I’m not really dating material…”

“Absolutely not!” I protested, offended that my friend could think so low of herself. “You are funny and adorable and super thoughtful and anyone would be lucky to date you!” I exclaimed, tapping the table with insistence with every new point I added.

Tamara laughed at my display, most of the sadness now gone from her eyes. “Thank you, I really needed that,” she giggled. “But that makes me think, what about you? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned anything about dating either.”

“Oh,” I replied meekly, now that I was being put on the spot. “I haven’t ever really dated to be honest…”

“Really? Like you’ve never had a girlfriend… or a boyfriend?” Tamara asked, leaving the door open for me to fill in the blank.

I could feel myself blushing at this, feeling a bit embarrassed about the topic. “I, uh… I guess I’m not totally sure where I stand in terms of sexuality… it’s never felt super clear for me and I haven’t really had the chance to figure it out for myself quite yet.”

“That’s okay then,” Tamara said, smiling kindly. “There’s no rush for you to find an answer or anything. And if ever you do figure it out and feel like dating whoever it is will also be lucky to be with someone like you.”

“Thanks Tamara,” I said, smiling back at her.

“Just for the record, you’re great and everything, but you’re not my type dude,” Tamara stated matter of factly. We looked at each other seriously for a moment before both bursting into laughter so hard we were in tears.

**************************** Before I knew it there was only one month left before I was to leave the Academy. Poor Lenny was still doing his best to try and find me a job but unless I miraculously developed an actual useful workskill there was only so much he could do.

Of course I was allowed to stay on at the Academy once my time was up in order to volunteer and help with the newcomers. I would be allowed to room and board there by doing so but it wasn’t an actual job or anything and that wasn’t something that actually paid. Because of the laws and regulations put in place for awakened, there needed to remain a place for them to stay if they weren’t able to return to society for one reason or another. To avoid people taking advantage of that and using it as an easy way out to not have to work, the Academy stipulated that they would not pay permanent/long term residents. Instead it was a barter type system where those who wished to stay had to contribute in some form or fashion according to their powers or abilities.

Some people, both within and outside the Academy, still saw it as a lazy option while others saw it as the epitome of despair. I thought both those views were rather extreme and unfair. However, I also didn’t want to stay at the Academy forever. I wasn’t ready to believe that there was truly nothing out there for me, not yet at least. The only thing that made me feel better was knowing that Tamara was also still going to be around for a good few more months even if I did wind up having to stay at the Academy for longer.

There was also the option of going back home to my parents for a while before coming back to stay at the Academy. That way I could stay with them for a bit and then move back into the Academy the next time I would be coming in for my regular post one year check in to make sure my powers were still stable. As time went on I figured I would go with that option since I hadn't gone home in nearly a year and had mainly seen my parents during visits. That way I would get to spend some time with the rest of my family but also come back to be with Tamara for the time she had left at the Academy.

I was starting to pack my stuff when I heard an unexpected knock at my door. I was confused as to who it could be, since Tamara usually just let herself in at this point. Putting down the shirt I’d been trying to fold I went to open the door, surprised to see Lenny standing there. “Lenny, what are you doing here?”

“Hi Demian,” Lenny greeted me, “I know you’ve been planning on going home soon but I have some interesting news for you that might just change your mind…”

#temperature of love #tol #fanfic #pov fanfic #ao3

23 notes · View notes

txtdreamss · 3 years

Text

mirrorball // [g.w.]

sequel to tolerate it

warnings: angst, fem!reader

summary: It’s been 2 weeks since George told you he has a date to the yule ball. As of now, it’s the night before and you are reflecting on your feelings for him and wondering if you can continue as his best friend.

word count: 1.5k

A/N: So, here it is! I am hoping to get this posted as soon as possible for those of you who wanted to see a part 2 to tolerate it. I had a really difficult time deciding on how I wanted to end this, and I really hope it pleases you guys (not sure I’m happy with the ending, but that is to be expected). Sorry in advance for any errors, as this is a one-woman show and I sometimes miss my own mistakes. :) Special thanks to @ajusquishy for being the first to ask about this addition to tolerate it!

*****

I want you to know I'm a mirrorball I'll show you every version of yourself tonight

The past 2 weeks had been the most difficult time of your life. George had been following Alicia around like a lost puppy, and even Fred was getting sick of it. Oddly enough, it seemed like George couldn’t get through one interaction with you without mentioning the girl’s name.

“Oh Y/N, we decided to match my tie to her dress!”

“Did you know she said I am the cutest quidditch player she has ever met?”

“I’m thinking about asking mum to knit her a sweater this Christmas!”

At first you could handle it. As his best friend of nearly 6 years, it was your job to handle it. Why didn’t that make any of this easier?

There wasn’t a change in George that you had neglected to notice. Hell, your heart dropped when he showed up with a new bruise after quidditch practice. You were the one who had told him to grow his hair out (and damn, was that a good piece of advice). George had even been with you when he chose his first pair of dress robes for merlin’s sake!

Molly Weasley saw you as her stand-in while the boys and Ginny were at Hogwarts. Of course, she didn’t know that George and Fred had grown in their pranking abilities thanks to your sugar-sweet exterior, but that didn’t change the role you played in the Weasley children’s life. You were the responsible friend who also just happened to lead a double life when it came to the twins. It was thanks to you that they had received only 3 detentions this quarter, and it was their fault that you now had an affinity for “accidentally” leaving dung bombs in the outer pockets of Cormac McLaggen’s bag.

“Hey, Y/N... I haven’t seen you around much. You aren’t avoiding me, are ya?” George’s baritone voice broke you out of your thoughts. He settled his arms on the top of your head, and sighed deeply, letting his head drop. “Fred and I need your help figuring out what the best escape route from the dungeons is.”

“Go ask Lee, he can do some math too.” Yes, you were being harsh, but George’s presence was enough to shatter any semblance of self control you still had left. “Now, if you excuse me, I have a study date with some ancient runes and Hermione.”

As you stalked out of the common room, George couldn’t bear to bring up how he hadn’t been able to come up with any solid pranks in exactly 14 days.

*****

You'll find me on my tallest tiptoes Spinning in my highest heels, love Shining just for you

Tonight was the night; your hair was curled to perfection, and the gown your mother had sent you was the color of holly. The heels you had strapped on were a matte black dusted with the occasional piece of red glitter. Despite the fact that George was not your date, you couldn’t help my let your thoughts drift to him as you got ready. Would he think you looked pretty? Would he think you looked as good as her?

Lee tapped you on the shoulder, and you steadied yourself before letting him gently grab your hand. “Don’t let that prat get you down. You look like a goddess, Y/N. Now, let’s go show Georgie what he is missing.”

Lee was a great friend for doing this for you; he knew about your feelings (Fred apparently can’t keep his mouth shut), and immediately became set on helping you get back on your feet. He had become your greatest cheerleader as of late, and claimed that George doesn’t know it, but he definitely has feelings for you.

As you both walked into the great hall, you couldn’t help but let out a gasp. There were snowflakes and all types of seasonal decor strung up across the room, and it was almost like the room had transformed into a winter dreamscape. Fred and George had beat you there, already sipping punch with Angelina and Alicia.

“You boys clean up nice.” The twins and Lee let out a chorus of ‘hey’s, clearly displeased with your mockery of their appearances.

“Oi, I was betting 5 galleons that Fred would show up in his trainers...” George’s voice was surprisingly meek, almost as if he was looking for your approval with his jabs towards his brother.

The boys immediately began discussing their plan to spike the punch bowl with firewhiskey, and Angelina and Alicia launched into a conversation about where they had purchased their gowns. You felt more than out of place at this point, and decided to relocate after notifying Lee that you’d be fine on your own for a bit. Almost immediately after, Angelina went to distract McGonagall while Fred and Lee snuck under the table of refreshments.

You went to talk with Hermione and the younger trio, and were drawn into a lesson in muggle dancing.

“No, Ron, that is not how you hit the woah.” (I’m sorry I felt so inclined to include this cuz the image makes me chuckle lol).

“Well, ‘Mione, why don’t you and Y/N show us how this is done then?” Harry and Ron crossed their arms, and Hermione slipped her arm around your shoulders.

“C’mon, Y/N. You look like you could use something fun.” She dragged you onto the dance floor, and you both began dramatically spinning each other to the sound of your wheezing laughter.

If only you had noticed a certain red-headed prankster gazing at you like you had hung the stars in the sky...

*****

You are not like the regulars The masquerade revelers Drunk as they watch my shattered edges glisten

Fred and Angelina had taken to the floor as soon as the waltzing began. After watching them twirl to the crescendos of the music, you finally decided enough was enough. All it too was a look at Lee, and he understood what you needed to do. You slipped out of the doors to the great hall, and found yourself wandering amongst the carriages powdered with snow, occasionally stopping to draw shapes into the piles of flakes.

Following five-ish minutes of mucking about, you finally decided to sit on the steps that bridged the courtyard and the hallways. Snowflakes continued floating, but you quickly realized the droplets of water on your face were from small tears and not the weather. Sniffles escaped your nose, and you crossed your arms in a poor attempt to keep warm despite your lack of sleeves.

Out of nowhere, you felt heavy cloth drop onto your bare shoulders.

“Be careful, love. Ya look like you’re halfway to becoming an ice lolly.” George shuffled his long, lanky body onto the steps. You looked at him through your lashes, and he seemed almost squeamish.

“Don’t you have Alicia waiting for you inside? I’m sure she wouldn’t be thrilled to see you out here.”

“Bloody hell, Y/N, I think we have been pretty dense.” Confusion evident on your features, George let his larger hand cover yours. “I didn’t want to ask Alicia. I wanted to ask you.”

“What do you mean? You’ve been talking my ear off about how much you like her for weeks now...”

“I was trying to make you jealous.” Silence overtook the interaction.

“So you’re saying that we both have been blind to our feelings?”

George let out a small chuckle, and pulled his hand away. To be quite honest, you felt like maybe you had been ignoring the signs: the subtle stares, the extended physical contact, the willingness to be there whenever and wherever you asked him to.

“I think we may want to start over and forget the last few weeks.”

“I think I would quite like that.” You stood up, and brushed the snow off your skirt before extending your hand towards George. “Well, George, the yule ball is in... now... would you like to be my date?”

“I would enjoy that a bunch, Y/N.” He took your hand, and pulled you into his chest. “May have a dance to start off the evening?”

“...There isn’t any music.” You chuckled, but George simply grinned at you before beginning to hum.

“Problem solved. So, may I have this dance?”

“You may.” You dropped your head into the nook of his shoulder, and George began to sway and spin you, leaving 2 pairs of footprints in the snow beneath your feet.

From just beyond your view, Fred, Lee, Angelina, and Alicia let out somewhat of a “oomph” and high-fived each other before turning to go back inside.

Shining just for you.

121 notes · View notes

kissinginkitchens · 3 years

Text

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)

a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)

Warnings: swearing, angst

Word Count: 6.7k

catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten

January, 2018

A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way.

I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl.

“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway.

“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”

“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”

Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”

“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”

“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”

“Ta-ta.”

Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby.

Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens. Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail.

“Where are you going?”

Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name.

“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.”

She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns.

The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message.

Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?

Harry: See you there.

********

“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”

Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits.

“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”

“When are you going, again?”

“Next month,”

Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”

“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”

“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”

“Literally everyone.”

“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”

The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her.

“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take.

Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door.

********

“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee.

“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”

Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”

“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”

“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”

“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”

Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”

“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests.

“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”

“Some food for thought.”

The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out.

********

“Where’s Alani?”

“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.”

Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”

And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden.

********

Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected, and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry.

“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden.

“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning.

Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”

Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”

“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”

But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag.

********

“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue.

Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set.

“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.

Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song.

“Alright, then it’s—”

“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”

“Run ‘Meet Me’?”

“Yeah,”

Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.

“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”

Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords.

Meet me in the hallway

“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”

Meet me in the hallway

“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”

I just left your bedroom

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Give me some morphine

“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”

Is there any more to do?

“Please don’t go.”

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”

Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”

Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”

“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”

“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”

The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt?

The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction.

Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly.

“Hello?”

“Darling, hello! Where are you?”

“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”

“Is everything okay?”

Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”

“Christ, from where?”

“Bisous,”

Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”

“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”

“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”

The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already? She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way.

********

“10 minutes!”

Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in.

“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”

“We did it?”

“You did it,”

So why does it still hurt?

“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”

Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.

It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different.

The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written.

“I should go back,”

“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”

“I have to go back.”

And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets.

The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said.

I walked the streets all day

Running with the thieves

‘Cause you left me in the hallway

Just take my pain away

Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door

Hoping you'll come around

Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor

Maybe we’ll work it out

********

“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”

Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”

“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”

“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”

More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on.

********

This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing?

“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”

The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face.

“Nice try,”

“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”

“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”

Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”

As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow.

“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”

“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”

Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”

The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”

“Follow me, please,”

Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.

“Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”

Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain.

“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”

Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”

“Thief,”

“I meant to return it.”

Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile.

“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”

A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart.

“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”

“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly.

Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”

Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return.

“You did, this is a hologram projection,”

Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him.

“Did you enjoy—”

“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping.

“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”

Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”

Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb.

“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie.

“What?”

“Have dinner with me?”

Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”

“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her.

She nods and he takes a step back.

“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”

“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases.

He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”

Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway.

When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits.

“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside.

“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.

********

“We’re not eating here?”

A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning.

“No,” he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”

“Oh,”

It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed.

“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten.

“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”

Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”

“Please?”

He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees.

“What’s it called?” she questions.

“It’s just my name,”

“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”

“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”

Alani hums. “Prince,”

“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”

“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?

“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues.

Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”

“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”

He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go.

“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”

Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”

She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her.

“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space.

If you’re gonna let me down

Let me down gently don’t pretend

That you don’t want me

Our love ain’t water under the bridge

********

Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors.

“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”

Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”

“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors.

“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”

“I pulled some strings,”

She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues.

“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”

Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”

“Jim?”

“The director.”

“Of course.”

Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside.

“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them.

Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.

“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”

“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”

“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”

“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”

And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up.

“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long.

Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”

“Where at?”

“Rolling Stone,”

“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”

“Thank you,” she replies graciously.

Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”

“Yeah, in the Village,”

“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”

A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”

“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”

“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.

“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,”

“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,”

“I was,”

“I didn’t watch it, sorry,”

Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”

“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words.

Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.”

Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home.

They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh.

“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically.

“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,”

“I think she would’ve found it flattering,”

“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,”

Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,”

“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying.

“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,”

Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts.

“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?”

The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did.

“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears.

“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back.

Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”

“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat.

“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”

“I have to go—”

“Just stop for a minute, please,”

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers.

“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”

Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.

“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”

“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”

“Alani—”

“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”

“Stop apologizing—”

“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”

Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over.

“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”

Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond.

“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”

He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”

They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw.

“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”

Alani blinks. “You did?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”

“Harry—”

“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”

He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”

Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound.

“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”

Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch.

“Can I show you something?”

You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”

He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it.

“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”

An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces.

“Where did you say the original was?”

“New York Botanical Garden,”

“M’gonna take you one day,”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring.

“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks.

Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue.

“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”

Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak.

“Do you know what that feeling is called?”

“No,”

“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”

His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.

“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”

“What did you wish for?” Harry searches.

Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”

His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”

Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go.

********

February 14, 2018

“Comment est le temps?”

Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”

He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her.

“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,”

“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”

“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”

Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow.

“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”

“Oui,”

“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”

Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”

“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”

He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”

“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”

“Sure does, sweets.”

Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back.

“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes.

She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”

Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris.

We don’t know where we’re going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It’s hard when we argue

We’re both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road

You bring me home

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #ybmh #so!!!! that's all folks <3

39 notes · View notes