#sure they know each other's birthdays but celebrating the day they were born seems kinda off to them. They don't acknowledge it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ktmarison · 2 years

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black monday sentence starters. season one.

‘ wear this. for good luck on your interviews. ’

‘ you be sure to tell (name) that i knocked the glaze off the donut. ’

‘ want to do some cocaine ? ’

‘ i’m really surprised a ladies’ man such as yourself doesn’t know his cups. these are c’s, baby. ’

‘ i was born in a toilet and left on the stairs of a church. ’

‘ i woke up in a $1,500 a night fuck pad after a $5,000 park avenue fuck-a-thon. ’

‘ get the fuck out of my face. ’

‘ god chose me to choose you. ‘

‘ i’m gonna take us to the promise land. ’

‘ happy birthday. i know it’s the same shit every year, but what do you get the guy who has everything, right ? ’

‘ scusi ! i seem to have come down with a bad case of the first days. ’

‘ i may have picked the wrong career. ’

‘ joking’s kind of my strong suit. ’

‘ what are my weakness ? that’s a great question. i can only think of three: caring too much, working too hard, and caring too much. and i just repeated myself, so that’s four weaknesses, ‘cause that’s a repeating weakness. ’

‘ wait, now i forget, which one of you is a virgin and which one of you ain’t ever been laid before ? ’

‘ why don’t you two stop fucking each other for five minutes ? ’

‘ you’re making us late for our stand up comedy class. ’

‘ this is your thing, i don’t wanna do the talking at the same time. ’

‘ go out and buy yourself something really expensive, because we got a lot to celebrate tonight. a lot. ’

‘ between you and me, i’m kinda hot on the street. ’

‘ i’m willing to lose a million a day to prevent her from ever being employed for the rest of her natural or unnatural fucking life, whichever comes first. ’

‘ are you calling me a fucking coke head ? ’

‘ by the way, you got a chick’s name. ’

‘ are we talking house money or summer-house money ? ’

‘ remember that screenplay i wrote in college ? hear me out. what if we go to l.a.--- ‘

‘ but you know what ? we don’t need money to be happy. ’

‘ should we have sex really quick ? because i am super jazzed. ’

‘ you’re the motherfucker that ruined my life. ’

‘ shut the fuck up. you think you scare me ? my dad beat me everyday of my life until he died. ’

‘ he literally died of a heart attack while beating me. ’

‘ why do you want a shitty honda ? ’

‘ that’s a lot of blood for a little guy. ��

‘ you’re the worst trader in manhattan since the indians. ’

‘ never walk away from a dollar that makes sense. ’

‘ i’m sorry i was so hard on you today. i just. . . you know, i just want you to be okay. ’

‘ i remember when your birthday used to be just sticking a candle in some apple pie. ’

‘ thanks, dick. ’

‘ so what was the plan ? you were gonna land a big, juicy job and then run over there and propose to her ? ’

‘ if you don’t do this, you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life. ’

‘ you didn’t do so bad today. ’

‘ you know, nobody’s yelled at me like that since 1973. ’

‘ i would love to fuck with you. ’

‘ you know, let’s just go home. i’m beat. ’

‘ i don’t care what anybody says, okay ? al pacino’s performance in scarface was bad. ’

‘ while nancy reagan is telling everybody that aids is no big whoop, i went long on condoms because i knew that shit had legs. ’

‘ i think the word for that is i’m a fucking genius. ’

‘ i'm engaged. and also a good person. . . . that didn’t come out right. ’

‘ he is gonna smack the handsome off that kid. ’

‘ i get it. haze the new guy. just like a cappella camp. ’

‘ you call this hazing ? tell it to my frat brother next time you’re in heaven. ’

‘ hey, (name) ! i need you to suck my dick ! ’

‘ i thought we stopped having sex when i dumped your ass, but somehow you’re still fucking me. ’

‘ go cry in a stall or something, okay ? this is a place of business. ’

‘ this guy can’t even get pranked right, he’s a fucking idiot ! ’

‘ . . . but that’s insider trading. ’

‘ i didn’t even know this day could get any fucking better ! ’

‘ i mean, you could call it a dog-shit stock, or i could call your wife and tell her all about that trip you and your nanny took down to sunny bora-bortion, you remember that ? ’

‘ need ? i did not say the n-word. ’

‘ consider it my apology. ’

‘ i didn’t hate your plan. i hated that you didn’t tell me. ’

‘ yeah, they’ll fuck you, but they’re not gonna hire you. ’

‘ you need me, (name). it’s okay to say it. ’

‘ so ? that’s unethical ! but maybe the guy making holocaust jokes maybe wouldn’t understand that. ’

‘ before you judge me, marriage is a marathon. you’ll see. ’

‘ really ? that’s your fucking closer after blowing up my life ? ’

‘ how’s the jizz biz, kid ? hey, you got carpal tunnel yet ? ‘

‘ good lord, are you trying to hide behind a lamp ? ’

‘ don’t you remember when you used to be me ? uncorrupted ? ’

‘ isn’t that the kind of tortured hero shit you guys jack off to ? ’

‘ i’m as good at pulling out as mohammad ali is at boxing. ’

‘ i wanna form a father-son relationship with him so i can get close enough to stab him in the back. ’

‘ why can’t you just jerk off like a regular guy ? ’

‘ parenting is just like dating, but with no sex. ’

‘ everyone i love is dead. ’

‘ i’m not even a citizen, i think, so. . . ’

‘ the guy’s unhinged, i walked in the other day to him masturbating to hockey’s hardest hits volume three. ’

‘ i should be more like you: bitchy. ’

‘ i look forward to seeing you all day long tomorrow. you and me, holding hands, watching our boy become a bar mitzvah. ’

‘ you aren’t the other man. you are the only man, okay ? ’

‘ i hate when you call them mom and dad. it feels incesty. ’

‘ this is the hottest ticket in town, and we got killer seats. ’

‘ i never even open a menu. i just order the most expensive shit, you know ? keeps it exciting. ’

‘ i prefer my ground beef cooked and with cheese and on a bun. ’

‘ i’m from a town with one restaurant. this world, it’s very overwhelming to me. ’

‘ i kind of grew up like you, you know ? but instead of one restaurant, i had no parents. ’

‘ i wanna share everything with you: a place in chelsea, a portmanteau. ’

‘ don’t you want to be happy ? ’

‘ i am happy. i fucking love my family. what, do you want me to leave them for you ? for sex ? ’

‘ i’ll give you something to blow on. ’

‘ of course i know dolly parton, who do you think bought her those cans ? . . . i’m joking, god did. ’

‘ don’t throw the whole baby out with the bathwater. ’

‘ real money is honest money, okay ? ’

‘ i don’t get it. you just said you were proud of me. ’

‘ don’t bring your mother’s porn into this. ’

‘ most of the time, i just walk around that office feeling like one of those chickens my dad used to make me cut the head off of. ’

‘ should i try some ? ’

‘ you don’t know what i can handle. ’

‘ i feel more successful already. ’

‘ the moon is so much brighter when you’re on cocaine. ’

‘ have you ever had sex with a guy with a huge promotion ? ’

‘ i would rather fuck my father. my mom too. ’

‘ you listen to me, (name). you’re going to prison. maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but someday, and probably for the rest of your life. and i’m not going to let you take me and our beautiful family down with you. ’

‘ i’d know those legs anywhere. ’

‘ you are the only person in my life that ��i can’t live without. ’

‘ this might be the cocaine talking, but can we get some more cocaine ? ’

‘ is this a child wedding ? ’

‘ i’m not getting a real ‘i’ve made a huge mistake and i’m rushing back to my fiance’ vibe off him. ’

‘ he’s just making cash for the first time. i mean, you remember the moneymoon phase. ’

‘ he’ll get sick of this shit. ’

‘ it’s like when they caught me smoking. they locked me in the closet, they made me smoke a whole carton of cigarettes until i didn’t want another cigarette as long as i live. ’

‘ fuck that bitch. ’

‘ the guy will do anything for a buck. ’

‘ let’s just talk to the kid about the power of love. ’

‘ it’s so weird calling a chick a boss. it’s the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. ’

‘ is it me, or is he getting weirder ? ’

‘ it’s so cool you live in a hotel. you’re like eloise. ’

‘ how are you ? i can’t imagine how hard it must be to be apart from the love of your life. ’

‘ sometimes it’s brave to be alone. instead of, you know, settling for the first lame-ass doctor that you lay eyes on that satisfies your parents but not you. ’

‘ and word on the street ? this guy is hung like a hose. '

‘ i mean, i know i broke up with her, but i didn’t expect this this soon. ’

‘ hey, bring us a bottle of wine, yeah ? ’

‘ i thought we were gonna get busy. ’

‘ i’m so full, i can hardly move. but you can do stuff to me if you’d like. ’

‘ maybe i’d loosen up if we’d have sex again. yeah, then we can clean up all the laundry that we knocked over when we had sex in the hall. ’

‘ how’d she meet someone so fast ? ’

‘ it’s a sit-com that takes place in a nazi concentration camp. ’

‘ you look incredible ! ’

‘ i haven’t acted since college. and the upenn gezette called my performance as otto frank the worst thing to happen to anne frank. ’

‘ hey, honey. listen, i’m not comin’ home. but i wanna let you know i’ve never loved anyone as much as i loved your sister. ’

‘ you were right, i fucked your sister ! ’

‘ was it just me or was that movie about racism really, really racist ? ’

‘ i just wanted to say you’re a piece of shit and i’ve always hated you. ’

‘ i know it didn’t work, but honeypot or not, i had a really great time tonight. ’

‘ i don’t want things to be awkward between us, (name), and i’m hoping that eventually you and i could be friends. ’

‘ for once in my life, i need to focus on myself. ’

‘ tell me that you just brought (name) here to make me jealous. ’

‘ oh my god, she’s so hot. a part of me didn’t know whether i should be jealous of her or of you.’

‘ i didn’t want to disappoint you, and honestly sometimes you can be a bit scary. ’

‘ that was a long time ago. and remember ? i’m kinda married. ’

‘ this thing’s bad luck. ever since i put it on you, it’s kicked off a series of disastrous events, okay ? this thing is cursed. ’

‘ now i see where this guy gets his fashion sense from. ’

‘ i feel like i’m lucy, you know, and the football ? or. . . maybe i’m charlie brown. i don’t know. or maybe i’m the football. ’

‘ this is supposed to be one of the most romantic spots in the city. ’

‘ show us your tits ! ’

‘ she’s got me on a strict wedding diet of maltodextrin, carrageenan, and phosphates. ’

‘ was it just me or was that meeting really odd ? ’

‘ it sucks. i mean, soon we’re not even gonna be able to flirt. ’

‘ it was just a drunken accident. just like my little brother. ’

‘ you kissed your brother too ? ’

‘ my parents thought they were done having kids, and then they were using the rhythm method and somebody got off beat. ’

‘ is that what i think it is ? i’m legitimately asking that question because i did not understand that. ’

‘ what are you chicks squealing about ? ’

‘ this guy is like the willy wonka of money ! ’

‘ he’s getting a pube to big for his briefs and i know just the guy to take him down. ’

‘ listen up, motherfuckers ! i am your god now ! ’

‘ this weekend is not about work, okay ? ’

‘ pick a menu. any menu. or we could live dangerously and play a little take out roulette. ’

‘ have fun, enjoy yourself ! try not to die ! ’

‘ he was a leo, i’m a cancer, so we were incompatible. ’

‘ i know how women work. i know women stuff, i have amazing women’s intuition. ’

‘ why do you let them bully you ? ’

‘ i know you don’t have a lot of work experience, but there is a chain of command that needs to be respected. ’

‘ and then afterwards, we’re gonna go home, and i’m gonna twist you into a hot pretzel and inject you with my nacho ch--- i’m sorry. ’

‘ i can’t stand these evil twinkies. ’

‘ the only reason we’re here is because they need a sucker. ’

‘ trust me. they are going to fuck us, okay ? ’

' i don’t know how they do their milk here, but i love it. ’

‘ he hates you, you hate him. i hate that i love your outfits. ’

‘ look, the only thing that he has ever been right about is that we would never do a deal that doesn’t fuck him like a brother. ’

‘ our reservation was an hour ago. ’

‘ i’m going to count to three. one. . . two. . . oh my god, you are fucked. two and a half ! ’

‘ so, good news, bad news. um, i finally got rid of that tie you hated, but it kind of broke the shredder in the process. ’

‘ i’m sorry i ruined our weekend. ’

‘ (name), i am obsessed with you. ’

‘ from now on, no one’s pushing me around. except for you. you can push my ass around. ’

‘ you’re a smart woman, which we would normally find repulsive, but we’d be willing to overlook that for money. ’

‘ six months, tops. he’ll be broke, in jail, dead, or all three. ’

‘ i mean, it should be the rush of my life, right ? but i’m. . . i’m distracted. i keep losing focus. ’

‘ i lived my whole life like that. money over everything and everyone. and look where i am now. ’

‘ are you telling me that after all these years, now you’re saying that money doesn’t matter, that it’s all about love ? ‘

‘ you’re dumb. that’s it, i just figured it out: you’re fucking dumb. ’

‘ everything i am, was, will be is about money. ’

‘ no one gives a shit about you. except yourself. ’

‘ you know what you can do ? get us a case of whiskey older than i am. you and i will drink this pathetic bitch out of your head. ’

‘ that was cool. you just touched me and you meant it. i love that. ’

‘ tell me the truth. i’m the first visitor he’s had in months, right ? ‘

‘ you’re my partner, and i’m sorry if i haven’t always treated you that way. you deserve better. ’

‘ i trust you and i hope someday you’ll be able to trust me again. ’

‘ your days of bullying me for no reason are over, alright ? ’

‘ i don’t want to use that information against you, but if you don’t stop fucking with me, i will tell everyone, and i’ll start with your family. maybe your kids first. ’

‘ that’s fucking rich, coming from you. ’

‘ when you didn’t show up, it just reminded me of all the times you let me down, and so i got drunk and stupid. ’

‘ how the fuck could you be so fucking stupid ? ’

‘ oh my god, that’s a dead body ! what the fuck did you do ? ’

‘ i'm so overwhelmed. i mean, we don’t even have a honeymoon spot. ’

‘ well, i’ve only been on a plane twice, so they all sound exciting. ’

‘ i want a honeymoon place that is so exotic and so special that none of my friends have been there, like a country that’s just been overthrown. ’

‘ favorite colors can change. from now on, mine is. . . gunmetal gray. or camo. ’

‘ i haven’t eaten in four days, but you know what ? i’m gonna make an exception for tonight. ’

‘ oh mama, i’m gonna force myself on that fucking cake. ’

‘ that’s a scary way to phrase that. ’

‘ you’re a gay. it’s so obvious. ’

‘ uh, it’s not obvious to me ! ’

‘ it’s pronounced uruguay. ’

‘ hey, listen, speaking of using condoms, what do you say we. . . stop using condoms ? ’

‘ i’m sorry i get all weird about this stuff. ’

‘ i’m so ready. i’m gonna call my mom. ’

‘ hold on, i know i’m cute, but i’m still a he. ’

‘ what am i ? a fucking teacher ? ’

‘ what is this, open mic night ? shut the fuck up. ’

‘ you were right. picking stocks is a lot easier when you already know what’s gonna happen. ’

‘ what the fuck has been up with you ? you’ve just--- you’ve been, uh, nice. ’

‘ suck my dick. . . oh, and that’s a figure of speech, not an invitation. ’

‘ i hope you’re right, because trust me, you don’t wanna be me. ’

‘ i’m so excited for our family road trip ! in just six short hours, we’ll be making smores and memories. ’

‘ i’m a serial killer ? you’re drinking a blizzard next to a fucking dead person. ’

‘ are you okay ? i mean, you didn’t even dump any fruit punch in that vodka. ’

‘ at first i thought you said something that made me wanna stab you. ’

‘ or, we skip your place just come back to my place, and have some gay sex. ’

‘ why don’t you shut your faces, you fucking whores ? ’

‘ you’re so smart and so together, and i trust you more than i trust myself right now. ’

‘ while you’ve been in here getting shit-faced, our reputation’s out there, getting butt-fucked in front of a live studio audience. ’

‘ i’m bad at parties. ’

‘ i tried everything to make this work because i love you. ’

‘ do you even want to get married ? huh ? ’

‘ payback’s a bitch, and i’m the son of one. ’

‘ you’re a winter, not a spring. ’

‘ oh my god, did you pierce your ear with your tie pin ? ’

‘ i’m really confused right now. ’

‘ a little white lie never hurt anybody. ’

‘ is nair supposed to burn my eyes from this distance ? ‘

‘ every newlywed’s parents buy them an apartment. duh. ’

‘ the only thing you should work on is letting yourself be happy. ’

‘ if you agree with all that, blink. ’

‘ we all have our hobbies. mine is astronomy, yours is lying to me. ’

‘ in what world is it okay to kidnap someone ? ’

‘ well, i’m sorry that i have a policy about never apologizing to white people. ’

‘ i hope you like your nothing burger with nothing on it, because this ? is nothing. ’

‘ no white dicks for me after labor day. ’

‘ call me ma’am again. i want you to. ’

‘ it’s not a fucking prank, okay ? ’

‘ please do not shoot my dumbass friend. ’

‘ come on, you got to try to sell that punch better. ’

‘ god’s a funny fuck, isn’t he ? ’

‘ oh my god, i guess that is super fucked up. ’

‘ we cheated death ! . . .what do we do now ? ’

‘ not to mention he was out all night with some prostitute, probably. ’

‘ haven’t you ever fallen out of love, (name) ? you know, you keep holding on, hoping to get that feeling back, but the tighter you grip it, the further away it gets. and then one day you wake up, and you’re two totally different people, and you wonder how you even got together in the first place. ’

‘ why are you so invested in my relationship ? ’

‘ when i said we were friends, that was true, i meant that, but the truth is, i’ve been playing you, kid. ’

‘ you’re gonna break her heart anyway. i mean, why not give her the wedding of her dreams first ? ’

‘ fuck you. i’m gonna tell (name) everything. ’

‘ she’s probably gonna die. ’

‘ i hate to ask this, but could (name) have done this ? ’

‘ he is crazy, but what would make you think he would kidnap a person ? ’

‘ are you okay ? i--- i wanna get into all of this with you. ’

‘ what do i tell the police when they ask me about him ? ’

‘ the police will think i’m involved because who would believe i had no clue for months ? i can’t go to prison. ’

‘ you can stay strong for nine hours, can’t you ? ’

‘ i don’t want to marry her, but that doesn’t mean i want her ripped into chunks. ’

‘ what’d you do, you crazy fuck ? ! ’

‘ i ain’t just talking the talk. you hear me ? ’

‘ extra, extra ! no one gives a shit about black folks ! ’

‘ i’m (name), and people call me. but only if they’re very lucky. ’

‘ (name) is a fighter. just ask the last delivery driver who forgot our duck sauce. ’

‘ what’s the age cut off for that milk carton thingy ? ’

‘ it could just be a classic new york snatch, kill, chop, and dump. ’

‘ don’t you have any clues other than bitch boy here ? ’

‘ let me just say, on the record, ew. ’

‘ i’m not sure a square like you could handle it. ’

‘ we were out partying last night and we got into this debate about who has the biggest balls on the street, which led to a dick-measuring contest, which led to a pissing contest, which led to a sword fight, which led to a cockfight, which led to me being up six grand. ’

‘ i have a charades party to get to, but i can’t until you start talking. ’

‘ i suppose (name) does have an undeniable raw sexuality, but i don’t know what that has to do with this. ’

‘ this is madness. the whole world’s gone upside-down and your solution is to make upside-down cake ? ’

‘ we couldn’t have gotten through this without money. ’

‘ no press is bad press. ’

‘ jesus. i guess i deserve that on some level, but jesus. ’

‘ can i get back to paying my respects ? ’

‘ did we kill that bottle ? ’

‘ i genuinely like the kid. i mean, we almost died together. that’s gotta count for something. ’

‘ he wasn’t gonna marry (name) because. . . well, because he’s in love with me. and i think that i am falling for him too. ’

' they say he wants my money, but he won't get shit. '

‘ can i get your autograph ? '

‘ i’m not afraid of love. i’m not ! ’

‘ i was gonna propose, okay ? i had the goddamn ring and everything. ’

' you want me to sign a prenup ? '

‘ if you wanna go, we can go. ’

‘ they don’t always leave with the ones they came in with. ’

‘ you’d have to be one dumb hick fuck to be messing around with your girlfriend when you’re about to marry someone else. ’

‘ fuck ‘em all. ’

‘ it doesn’t fucking matter ! ’

‘ you got some balls ? you fucking prove it ! ’

‘ he has treated you like a son ! sure, in the way that dads are super cold to their sons to try to get them to stop acting like such pussies, but still. '

‘ i’m pretty sure this wedding is fucked anyways. ’

‘ i think this wedding has been fucked for a long time. ’

‘ my plan did not involve you fucking him. ’

‘ thank god i didn’t propose to you. ’

‘ i should’ve known. maybe i sort of did. ’

‘ you are the smartest person i’ve ever known. ’

‘ i know this is a shame wedding, but i have been dreaming about this day since i was a little girl, so please, just give me this. ’

‘ are they dancing to the national anthem ? ’

‘ do republicans hate america ? because this is like a dance version of burning the flag. ’

‘ shut the fuck up. you know the saying isn’t an endless stream of bullshit and bad puns is the soul of wit, right ? ’

‘ you don’t wanna be my friend, don’t be my friend. who cares ? ’

‘ i knew you were full of shit, but i didn’t think you were all shit. ’

‘ wow. you really have crossed all the way over to the dark side. ’

‘ i learned it by watching you, dad. ’

‘ part of me wants to give you a big old hug. a bigger part of me wants to beat the dog shit out of you in front of all your friends and fake family. ’

‘ that’s cute, but this isn’t a negotiation. ’

‘ now if you’ll excuse me, i have to go do the fucking hokey-pokey. ’

‘ you’re a selfish piece of shit. ’

‘ i mean, this marriage has always been bullshit on some level anyway. ’

‘ just like theatre camp, i’m always getting fucked by gay guys. ’

‘ duh, (name)’s gay. my hubby likes chubby. ’

‘ these mind games that you’re pulling ? it’s getting sad. ’

‘ wanna commit a murder ? let’s do it, i’m in. ’

‘ yeah, of course (name)’s gay. i thought everyone knew that. ’

‘ maybe we just have better gay radar than you. ’

‘ i’m back, baby ! i gotta do some coke. ’

‘ why is he dating me ? ’

‘ i swear i’m gonna kill that motherfucker. ’

‘ now, i know i’ve been shitty to you in the past, and the recent past, and this morning, but it’s gotta be you and me now, okay ? together. ’

‘ how could i forget you ? you’re my first. and my wife. ’

‘ it’s okay to be confused. ’

‘ i do love you. ’

‘ oh, i need to say it too ? i thought it was implied. ’

‘ (name) was feeling all lovey dovey, you know ? kissing my neck and feeling me up, grabbing my--- ’

‘ i had to pretend i found a lump just so i could get out of there without punching him in his lying-ass face. ’

‘ i can’t believe that you didn’t know he was gay. ’

‘ you dated a girl for an entire year without realizing she was deaf ! ’

‘ can you believe it ? we got him trapped in a classic catch-69. ’

‘ i would have never got here without you. i can’t think of anybody i’d rather to celebrate with. ’

‘ if i don’t show, you better call the fucking morgue. ’

‘ it’s over, (name). you can never fix this. ’

‘ (name) is a piece of shit. and he’s not your friend. ’

‘ what has he ever done for you ? ’

‘ i gotta tell you, it’s been amazing to watch your evolution from punk-ass bitch to cold-ass mofo. ’

‘ wakey wakey, you fucking lightweight. ’

‘ you’re dead. welcome to hell ! ’

‘ i cried for the first time since reagan got shot and didn’t die. ’

‘ let’s all party until we die ! ’

‘ can i talk to you in private ? ’

‘ i’ll try anything twice. ’

‘ i’m worried about you, (name). talk to me. i got a feeling i’m the only person you can talk to about this. ’

‘ it’s like when i first got to the city, i kept seeing these ads for the mcdonald’s mcrib. do you know that thing ? it’s like a rack of ribs on a bun, except it’s not. it’s something called restructured meat product, and they pressurize it into the shape of ribs, bones and all. it doesn’t make sense. the bones aren’t real. and i guess sometimes that’s... that’s how i feel. like i’ve been pressed into this shape that doesn’t make sense to me. ’

‘ i don’t know what i feel. but i feel it in my bones. ’

‘ that’s whats so great about new york. you can be who you are. and you’ll figure out who that is. ’

‘ should we order some ribs ? ’

‘ i can’t believe how fucked everyone is. ’

‘ i know you knew, you’re too smart not too. ’

‘ for someone so smart, you have a real blind spot for (name). ’

‘ he acts like the only reason you got anywhere is because you slept with him. ’

‘ i’m not a fucking pussy anymore. ’

‘ i deserved it from him, but from you ? jesus christ, how could you do this shit ? what a punk move. ’

‘ let me get my camcorder, ‘cause i love it when mommy and daddy fight. ’

‘ i mean, what’s 100 mill when you can make two ? ’

‘ just having a bit of an out-of-money experience. ’

‘ you guys have any fucking idea what you’ve done ? ’

‘ people are gonna lose their fucking houses. their jobs. their livelihoods. their fucking everything. ’

’ you just broke the fucking world. ’

‘ i think you’re exaggerating. ’

‘ nobody screws us but us. ’

‘ i mean, all siblings take baths together. ’

‘ you always said that if i wanted something from you, i had to take it. ’

‘ i love you. but you know that already. so what is there even left to say ? ’

‘ nothing about you is real. you are all bullshit. ’

‘ i don’t know what to believe. ’

‘ you think i came here for your pathetic fucking birthday ? ’

‘ goddamn it, kid, you’re embarrassing yourself. ’

‘ you’re not my son. if you were my son, you wouldn’t have fucked up like this. ’

‘ i haven’t felt this close to you since we ate our brother in the womb. ’

‘ i know you think you lost everything, but you haven’t. ’

‘ you’re the only one in this room full of fucking snakes that never fucked me over. ’

‘ it turns out your the best friend i got in the world. jesus christ, i love you, man. ’

‘ fuck me ? fuck you ! ’

‘ it was a little bumpy, but i think we stuck the landing. ’

#black monday rp #rp memes #rp sentence prompts #rp sentence meme #sentence starters #rp sentence starters #sentence starter memes #meme #ask meme #roleplay meme #askbox #ask sentence meme

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ouraniatm · 10 months

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@musicalpriestess (aka datentm) asked: today was a special day to the heir prince of briar valley, as it was the day that his beloved was born into the world and graced his long life with excitement and new experiences. even though cora would be most opposed to any attention directed towards her, malleus would be remiss if he didn’t have a celebration of her birth on this day. even if he couldn’t have a grand party in her honor, she compromised with a small group of close friends of theirs. nevertheless, malleus would pull cora aside to present her the gift he had for her. ‘ happy birthday, cora, my dear. i know you don’t usually have something as this but i thought it fitting, nonetheless. ’ he handed her a small, blue velvet case that hidden inside was an intricately shaped multicolored gem that hailed from his homeland upon a beautiful silver ring. ‘ you may wear it upon your finger, as a necklace, or however you wish. but this gemstone is much like you, a multifaceted person of wonderful colors. ’

most wouldn't go too far for cora, someone who was the type to sneer at you just for looking at her. even for her birthday, there were fewer students who approached her simply to congratulate her just because it was mandatory...and those students were from her own dorm. some of them gave her gifts, sure, but they weren't too much - not that she cared much, either...some, however, would be more excited for this day than she was, ever. one of them was malleus, himself. it was odd to have the prince of briar valley try his damnedest to throw a celebration for cora, despite her obvious reluctance, but hey...if she managed to come back from the dead, then anything is possible.

in the end, cora went along with a small party at ramshackle, with those closest to them in attendance ( it was mostly malleus' usual group, sans for silver and jamil who were her friends, oddly enough ). while everyone had a merry old time with each other, she was pulled from prying ears and eyes by malleus to be given a gift of his own. color her curious, this time around, as she takes the case with small hint of wariness. ❛ hahhh...this is gonna be something way over the top, i just know it. ❜ it just fit his nature, after all.

once opening it, cora is rendered silent when gazing upon the unfamiliar gem, it's many colors glazing upon her eyes and simple design of the silver ring clearly surprising her. well, damn, so much about her "over the top" comment, she thought to herself before looking back at malleus with a small scoff at his following comment. ❛ you sure got an interesting take on "wonderful colors", horn boy...what's next, i'm some kinda rare gem, too? yeah, right... ❜ she chuckles mid sentence, small smile creeping along her lips. if you looked closely, you'd see small hints of pink dusting her cheeks, as well. ❛ well, whatever, i'll hold onto it, maybe put it on my computer desk...dunno if i'll ever wear it, jewelry's kinda not my thing, but...i guess it looks beautiful. ❜ pausing for one moment, cora looks back down at the ring...this time, her expressing seeming only a tad gentler - the look only someone who ever gave a damn for her would ever see. ❛ ...heh... thanks, malleus...~ ❜

happy (belated) birthday, cora (19/07)!

#⟪ answered. ⟫ ever heard of text messaging?#datentm #⟪ otp. datentm. ⟫ cora o. & malleus d.#hope u dont mind me mentioning ur other blog???? MDFKGMKMGMKTGTMG #WELL W/E! WOW WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT! U GOT HER TO LOOK FIVE PERCENT SOFTER #very few ppl can achieve that you know1!!!!!

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

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October prompts — 8. EZ REYES ; MAYANS MC

Prompt: i see dead people. ❜

A/N: I’ll catch up with the Mayans someday but a fancam inspired me to write this. It’s disappointing the lack of edits on the Mayans but whatever. It is what it is I guess. We’re in the final stages of October prompts from me and I feel like this man needs one! Also this took a bit of a different direction? Kinda lengthy but…Let’s get into it!

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Oh Scorpio season: it was your time to shine, act up, and to simply celebrate to put it into a few words. You were born on the 23rd of October and there wasn’t shit to do in Santo Padre, so if anyone thought you were going to stay here for your 28th birthday they were dumb. So you planned a trip to San Diego and there was no doubt that you wanted your man to attend but…business got in the way—as usual.

Listen, you were the most understanding when it came to Ez’s position at the club, so you kept throwing a fit to a minimum but it was your birthday plans and Ez could tell you were a little disappointed. The both of have been dating for a year and some change now but you were not sick of each other yet. You were both dedicated to your professions and usually knew how to balance your relationship with that. However it seemed like shit was picking up with the club and it was almost like Ez was pushing you to go. He couldn’t talk about club business so you didn’t question it and you were never one to cancel your ideas or plans on the account of someone else.

That’s how you miss out on life.

And you always matched energy, sorry not sorry. It was not Ez’s intentions to make it seem like he wanted you gone, it was more of always wanting you to live your life. He spent years having his on hold so who was he to stop you from enjoying yourself—especially celebrating a life as valuable as yours.

A week before your birthday, you called up your girls and debated on a airbnb or a hotel for a weekend in San Diego. It became a girls trip because of Ez, so you made sure to tell your girls to keep their significant others where they were at—respectfully of course. The day before your birthday, Ez made sure that you knew you were loved and that he didn’t forget about you, you knew he didn’t, it just sucked you wouldn’t be spending this birthday together.

He made up for it the day before and if you don’t know? Ezekiel Reyes was a romantic man, he has a collection of poetry books and literature for crying out loud and often recited poems of loving quotes to you when he thought you were asleep. He also enjoys romance films and watching the sappy lifetime movies with you on lazy sundays but he’ll never let his big bro know all that. He decided to blind fold you (not the first time) and bring you to a birthday dinner on the lake. It was sickeningly sweet with nothing but rose petals, candles, and the stars as your source of light for the night.

You almost thought about proposing your damn self to this man with the way he kept his eyes on you on the mini dock. He looked good but he told you you looked better over some Cabernet. And you both knew what time it was and you didn’t hesitate to give it to him right there on that dock. you had a blanket that helped the both of you not catch any splinters (this time around) so that made your pre-birthday that much more at ease. The both of you passed out for a good while until you felt the fall rain, which woke the both of you up.

You were groggy as Ez quickly got himself dressed and pulled out a processing cap from his back pocket, to place over your head for you. Laughing you wrapped the blanket around your body after slipping your dress on and climbed behind Ez on the jet ski back to his car. He even carried you back to the car, one arm wrapped around your entire body while you clung to him in the rain, him holding your heels and keys in his other hand. Once he got you into the vehicle you curled up in the passenger side, facing the man you obviously loved, sending a lazy smile his way, which he shared, except his was much wider with his signature grin.

Ez soon started the car looking at the clock on the dash to see that it was sixteen minutes into midnight, “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Thank you, baby love.” You replied, puckering your lips for Ez to do the honors.

So your actual birthday? Originally the plan was to roll out of santo padre with two of your home girls by 10am—since the rest were all scattered over California…but that didn’t go as planned. If you asked anyone out of the two of you who was the slowest in the mornings the answer would be you. Ez was used to not getting much sleep in the first place due to his own insomnia or always being on call so he could function whenever. You on the other hand? Could be a literal brat, slumped over when dragged to get up, throwing tantrums, throwing punches, you name it! You did it, if someone dared to bother your sleep, just tell anyone to ask any of your siblings or cousins, they knew what was up. If you did not get at least 7-8 hours then it would be a world war six up in this bitch, best believe.

You and ez didn’t get home until 12:45ish but you also stopped at a gas station to get snacks for the house…which you were most likely leaving behind for the weekend? You were the hungry drunk and ez couldn’t say no to you on your birthday. When you got back home the both of you showered together which included a make out session since you were too exhausted to go round three and stayed up a little longer watching, “Sylvie's Love,” in bed together.

Your god-sister/cousin Eboni and good friend, Israel were the ones to basically drag you from Ez’s arms and push you to get ready. However that was not completed without throwing confetti all around your bedroom and busting out into Stevie Wonder’s edition of, “happy birthday,” to get you into the spirit. Ez took the time to take your things to the car while you got ready, also Eboni could be bossy as shit so she was making orders and Ez didn’t think much of it since he was planning on doing that for you anyways. He silently wished you good luck before you entered the living room where Israel sat on the couch texting and Eboni was getting her interior decorator on as she surveyed your duplex.

Ez followed the three of you to the door, the both of you holding hands as you arrived at Israel’s car full of balloons. There were smiles in your eyes but your lips said otherwise until Eboni shoved your go-to order of a matcha latte in your hands, which made you beam up. Ez leaned through the car window and cradled your face bringing your lips up to his. He wished you a happy birthday again, asked you to text him when you got there, and told Israel to be safe on the road—since she was a bit of a speed demon which she laughed at since Ez drove another dangerous vehicle himself.

And while you were off celebrating your birthday for the weekend, Ez handled his own business with the club but not without checking on you on your Instagram stories when he had little free time. It wasn’t until 3AM that he saw something on one out of your five friends’ page that he was ready to call you up.

“Yo, who did y/n swing on?” Coco asked around a puff of smoke.

Ez wasn’t sure when he even popped up? Which was normal but Coco wasn’t standing beside him or over him to know what Ez was witnessing. He lifted his head to see Coco looking down at his own phone and raised it in the air to show a picture of you on your own story, nose bleeding while blowing a kiss at the camera.

“Lemme see!” Angel jogged over, picking up on the tea as soon as he came outside, snatching Ez’s phone from his hand.

Ez clenched his jaw, “give me my damn phone back, Angel. I gotta call and check in on her.”

“Nah. You don’t, it’s her birthday! She don’t need you up her ass since you’ve been stalking her since she left the place. Let her call you if she gets locked up or leave her ass there, it’s up to you.” Angel kept pressing on Ez’s screen to witness the story from the beginning.

Ez stepped forward to snatch his phone but Angel only dodged his reach, the speaker blasting so loud that ez was sure Angel was going to break one of them. It took a solid three minutes for ez to get his phone back and it entailed getting the older man into a headlock to drop the phone.

“I could break your ribs but I’m too fuckin’ tired for this shit right now.” Angel muttered, “let go of me with your joe Goldberg actin’ ass.”

Ez plunked his phone from the ground and went through his recents ready to call you up. He suddenly lifted his head to meet Coco and Angel’s eyes, “do you really think I’m doing too much if I call?”

Coco lifted his shoulders, “you could text her.”

“Calling is faster.”

Angel scoffed, “like I said, if you want to continue being glued to her ass for the weekend that’s on you. They already know you’ve been watching their stories, I’m sure, so leave it and let her call you, act like you don’t know shit. That’s how I would play it. Although, I do wanna know who cracked her in the nose.”

“You think somebody hit her?”

Angel tapped Ez’s temple, “either that or she was kissing the floor tonight. We both saw that last video on that other chick’s page, the one i can’t stand?”

Ez didn’t know what he saw. It all happened quick and your friend Ximena was the one behind the camera showing you standing by some strangers, two dudes and one lady. You were in the middle of the two guys smiling while the other lady on the end was giving you the side eye from underneath the flash from the camera. The view then shifted to Israel spinning around a light post before something kicked off in your direction, there was screaming and the camera dropped to ximena’s feet with her yelling herself before the video cut off.

The last update was forty-five minutes ago.

“Screw that, I’m calling my girl.”

“Good for you, Boy Scout.” Coco flicked off the buds of his cigarette before he smirked, “maybe put it on speaker?”

All Ez could do was shake his head at these two idiots.

So your birthday went from loving to exciting to bad bitch energy to reckless to unbothered all in one. In short you were spammed by your man and didn’t return his call until seven that morning? He was aggravated when you facetimed him that Sunday morning in the bathroom while you were on the toilet. You found it cute that Ezekiel was that worried about you, especially when he said he was so tempted to take that hour plus drive to San Diego to get your ass himself.

However ximena sent him a text around five that morning to let him know all was good with a “🥊” emoji. She didn’t reveal much, which you were glad and could always count on her to do for you. Eboni would only tell your business if she gave you the ultimatum to figure your shit out or if you didn’t take her advice, Israel couldn’t lie for shit because she cracked under pressure, Caroline always stayed out of it and usually failed to take sides once the business was out, and Lomasi would sometimes sugarcoat or exaggerate the tea if she felt like sharing that is…she could stingy with information okay?

Ez asked if you had a good celebration and you said you did before he quickly shifted gears pointing out the tissue shoved up your nostril. You shrugged it off and gave a brief summary of: when a drunk girl lets jealousy get the best of her. Your friends met a solid group of people that included the three in the video amongst others, it was a good time full of drinks, laughter, and dancing. The girl felt like you were flirting with the dude she was currently sleeping with but he didn’t want to claim her, and one minute she’s smiling up in your face with a few slick comments thrown in the mix, which Eboni and ximena quickly caught onto. Eboni was so close to saying something but it was your birthday and you were in too good of a mood to let whatever this girl felt so bold to say to you, bother you.

It wasn’t until you got outside the club while the girl, her lover, and their openly gay friend waited for their other group of friends, that things went left very fast. You couldn’t remember what the conversation was even about but she tried to throw a sneak slap your way after throwing a drink over her lover. The bleeding nose? Came from the other friend accidentally elbowing your nose as he got in front of you, trying to block the girl from charging at you. What made it worse was the smile never left your face, blood dripping into your teeth; it was taunting her and you were all drunk.

You were happy and she was pressed on your born day, big yikes!

The girl needed to love herself and you wished her well until she thought it was okay to spit at you. It landed on your heels and that’s when you all got to scrapping to tinashe’s, “link up” playing outside of the club. You were good though, only cuts and bruises from the scuffle but you can’t speak for ‘ol girl, after she got her ass nicely beat, you rolled out to get some gelato before going back to the hotel.

That Sunday afternoon you all had brunch and went your separate ways, agreeing to link up again for the next birthday in December for Caroline.

It was two days later after your very eventful birthday that you treated yourself to your LASIK surgery appointment which EZ took you to and from. You’ve been stuck with glasses since freshman year of high school and then switching between that and contacts since your second year of college…you were what? Twenty-eight now? So enough was really enough in your opinion and you’ve been waiting for this moment since you’ve been confirmed as a great candidate for this procedure.

On October 28th, it was your last day off of work and you would be returning tomorrow. After your procedure you were required to return back the next day and thankfully your doctor said you were healing nicely but to still take your drops. Deciding to stick with the festive season you thought of the perfect idea as you laid out on the floor waiting for Ez to grant you with his presence.

He stepped out about fifteen minutes ago to get the both of you dinner and should be back soon. You got yourself comfortable on the bathroom rug for awhile before you heard the front door open. You pushed yourself away from the rug in front of the tub and laid yourself out on the tile after grabbing your prescribed eye drops.

“baby, I’m back!” You heard Ez call out to you.

Your stomach growled which made you squeeze your belly, “imma feed you just give me five sis.”

It didn’t take long for Ez to come looking for you. He peeked around the bathroom door calling out your name again before he fully kicked it open, seeing you on the floor.

“Y/n?!” Ez softly pressed his fingers into the side of your neck before cupping your face, “oh man, look at you, you’re bleeding.”

He let go of you to eye the blood on the edge of the sink that matched the blood on your forehead. Ez quickly snatched the towel hanging from it and dapped at your forehead before calling your name again.

You took your time answering with ez pulling you up into his lap still tapping your face to get you to wake up.

“Ezekiel,” you greeted opening your eyes into slits to stare up at this beautiful hopeless man before your gaze shifted around the bathroom, “…I see dead people.”

Ez paused as you kept a straight face, your eyes moving around the room. He followed your movements doing the same to look around the bathroom himself. He didn’t see what you were seeing?

“I think you hit your head a little too hard, mi amor.” Ez ran his knuckles against your cheek.

You swallowed thinking to yourself before saying, “there’s someone else in here with us right now. They’re by the window…and i don’t know what he wants. I know he’s been here watching over me since I fell trying to put my drops in.”

“Y/n…I’m gonna get you up now and to the bedroom.” Ez was started to get a little creeped out, since he tried to convince himself that it was just the wind blowing by the window…even though he knew it was closed.

The next thing he needed was you telling him you saw his mom and then he wouldn’t think twice about getting the hell outta here. He was trying to be patient with you and part of him was still hopeful this was just you talking like this because of a minor head injury.

“He doesn’t want us to leave.”

“He who? The man by the window?”

You slowly dipped your head.

Ez took a deep breath looking by the window. The thirty year old did not feel as if he needed to ask some ghost if he could leave his own bathroom but ez knew how to respect the dead. If you said you were currently seeing something in this room with the both of you right now, who was he to question it? He always thought this duplex was a little sketch in the first place.

“Alright,” Ez cradled you to his chest, “mr. ghost…I would very much appreciate it if you would let y/n and I leave so I can provide her with the proper care she desperately needs.”

Bless his heart.

The bathroom fell silent and Ez turned back to you. You quickly shifted your eyes back towards the window and replied with a shaky breath, “he says we can go but he won’t leave for good until…”

“Until what?” Ez asked, a furrow set in his brows.

You suddenly reached out to wipe the blood against Ez’s cheek and onto his lips, “until he takes your soul!”

Ez huffed as he noticed a crooked smile curve out onto your full lips. “That’s not funny.”

“I think I deserve a boscar.”

Ez used the shoulder part of his shirt to wipe off the fake blood you just put on his face, “a what?”

“Oscar award for black people since the those awards seem to be made for only one group.” You sighed as you sat up, feeling your vision adjust.

Ez tilted his head to the side—not arguing with that idea.

“I can’t believe I was starting to fall for that.”

You crossed your legs to sit in front of ez who had his legs pulled upwards. You reached forward to squeeze his knees, “I just had to pull a prank.”

“Why? I don’t play with the dead. You don’t ever have to question if I’m a believer.” Ez replied.

You shrugged, “all in good fun, baby love. It’s my birthday month, so—

“You think you can do whatever you want,” Ez mumbled holding his head back to stare up at the ceiling with a sigh, “I was strongly considering throwing you in the trunk and taking you back to the doctor to let him give you back your original fucked up eyes.”

“Hey!” You slapped his knee and shook out your hand at the stinging sensation, “you’d rather me blind than seeing dead people with clear vision?”

Ez didn’t hesitate, “absolutely.”

“Wow, mom was right when she said men ain’t shit.” You shook your head.

Ez laughed, “I go out to bring you carne asada and I come back to you playing around about ghost and I ain’t shit?”

“Love how we’re always on the same page, honey.” You leaned forward for a kiss.

Ez gave you his hand to kiss lightly shoving your head to the side. You gasped as you fell over to the side while Ez got to his feet.

“How about you stay here with your new ghost man for dinner while i go out there with my new girlfriend, huh?” Ez teased you as you scrambled to get to your feet.

He closed the door behind you, holding onto the doorknob to prevent you from coming out.

“Ez.” You whined, “Have a laugh.”

“I am laughing right about now.” Ez was smug from the other side, “do you still see him?”

You crossed your arms as your belly growled.

“You’re about to see thriller if you don’t let me out of this bathroom to eat.”

“Is that another threat, y/n?”

“Call it what you want. Let me out.”

“Not until you apologize for that weak prank.”

“Weak? You said you were close to believing it!”

“You don’t think I know the difference between real and fake blood?”

He had you there.

“Whatever, fine. Let me eat.”

“That doesn’t sound like sorry.”

“Fine! I’m sorry.”

“Eh…”

“Ezekiel!”

He laughed letting go of the door, grinning at you as you glared at him going to swipe at his head but he caught your wrist, “Uh uh, face it. I win and you lose.”

“Not for long, I have three days left.”

“If you tell me you have other tricks up your sleeve then I’m definitely keeping my guard up.” He tugged you forward to rest an arm around your waist as the both of you went around the house back to the dining room.

You hummed inhaling the food that lingered through the air, “looks like this means a prank war.”

“Just know, I still love you.”

You plopped down at the nook as Ez finished pulling out the remaining items from the bag.

“I’m not really feeling that response, Ezekiel.”

Ez sent his own award winning smile your way leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “good, now you know I’m serious and you have no idea what you just started.”

Maybe you didn’t but did that mean you were shaking in your boots? Hell no, it was your season not Ezekiel Reyes’ and you thought he already knew that.

Guess you’d have to show him what you were really made of.

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Continue along with my October anthology prompts here

#Mayans mc #mayans mc x reader #ez reyes x reader #ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x black!reader #october prompts

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just-a-quirkless-loser · 3 years

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What Did I Do To Deserve You?

ITS WHAT!?!

Alpha Dabi x F! Omega Reader

Words: 2.5K

Summary: Dabi finds out it’s your birthday

Soundtrack: ‘Safety Net’ by Ariana Grande ft. Ty Dolla $ign

Cuddling with your alpha, Dabi, is always the best. His smokey scent always engulfs your entire being as his strong arms keep you grounded against his chest. He always looks at you like you’re the best thing on this planet. Although, his snuggles are the least of your concern right now.

Right now, you’re trying to figure out how you’ll survive another minute of the cuddling position he has chosen for this moment. He’s sitting on the couch with you straddling his hips, your body arched into him as he keeps on hand settled on your ass. The other hand is fumbling with a Wii controller, clumsily playing bowling. It’s actually kinda cute how much your alpha loves to play video games (you hypothesis it may be because of how he was treated as a child but, Dabi barely talks about his childhood nowadays).

The problem, however, is that your alpha has decided to make you suffer. His hardness grinds into your core every time you try to move. You swear up and down in your mind that he does this on purpose to torture you for going to work every day. It’s pure agony laying there, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter after each second.

Dabi, on the other hand, is having the time of his life. He enjoys the way your core radiates warmth on his dick. Plus, you’ve been at work so much lately that he’s barely had you to himself for longer than an hour before you retire to your shared bedroom and pass out from exhaustion. Your asshole boss has been keeping you in the office longer since you have a big project coming up.

The alpha within him hates being separated from his omega but, he understands that you need your own independence. Thus, having this Thursday morning with you all to himself has made him incredibly happy. He thinks for a moment that maybe you might be sick (you only ever call out of work if you physically can’t make it) but you show no signs of illness. Then, his mind rejoices at the idea that you’ve finally agreed to quit your stupid job and allow him to provide for you; you quickly shot down this motion and told him you simply wanted to relax for once. He pouts.

“I’m not giving up hope,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. Kissing him on the lips would be a dangerous game right now.

“I’m sure you won’t, alpha,” Dabi’s nose flares. Glancing down at you, he runs his tongue along his teeth. Goodness, how have you survived this long in his lap?

Your starting match with your mate is cut short by your phone ringing. You flick his nose on your way up and yelp as he swats your ass in retaliation. You look back to glare at him but he’s innocently looking at the t.v., looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. Sometimes you truly cannot believe this same man works for the League.

“Hello, Momma,” you sigh a bit as you answer the phone. You didn’t expect her to call you.

“Y/N!!! Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl. How are you enjoying it?” you can hear Dabi pause his game. You silently curse your mother for finally deciding to be attentive to you.

“It’s going good, momma. I took off of work for the day,” by now, Dabi is silently staring at you. His tall figure looms over you as he mouths ‘birthday’ to you. You nod your head, wondering for a moment how the fuck his hearing is so good.

“You deserve it. It’s such a beautiful thing to turn 17,” you sigh once again. You suppose you were asking too much for your mother to remember your age in addition to remembering the day she pushed you out of her vagina.

“Momma, I’m turning 20,” you try not to let her ruin your mood. You try to be thankful that she’s at least making an effort. On the other hand, Dabi looks at the phone in disgust. You’ve never really told Dabi about your childhood but, he had picked up over time that you were in the same boat as himself.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry. Time is flying by so fast,” you just shake your head.

“Yeah, it really is. I have to go, ma. I’m getting ready to go do some shopping. I deserve it.”

“Yes, yes you do. I love you, Y/N,” you can tell she feels bad.

“As I do you, momma,” you end the call. You know it must hurt her when you don’t tell her you love her back but, you’ve never been able to tell her that. You care for her but, it’s so hard forgiving her.

“IT’S WHAT!?!?!” ahhh, yes, you now have to deal with Dabi. It’s actually kinda funny how your birthday has just now dawned on his mind. However, you don’t dare laugh because you already know he feels bad enough for not knowing in the first place. “Omega, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I don’t normally celebrate it. My boss normally gives me the day off no matter how much I protest. I just wanted to spend the day with you,” you relish in the warmth of his palm as he starts to stroke your cheek. You stare into his deep, cerulean eyes, feeling yourself get lost. “Don’t feel bad, alpha. It’s not that important.”

“IT IS IMPORTANT,” he snaps a bit, nuzzling your head. “It’s the day you were born to be mine. I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“You’d be the same, just a bit more aggressive,” you giggle. You have no doubt in your mind that your alpha would be single without you. It takes a special kind of person to deal with your Dabi.

“That’s beside the point. Why didn’t you celebrate your birthday?” your eyes narrow as he speaks in the past tense.

“I DON’T celebrate it because I never got into it. I never really told you this ‘cause uh,” you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. You know that you owe it to him to at least give him a good explanation. “Growing up, my parents were on really hard drugs. I mostly tried to avoid being in the house after things got bad so I was out working most of the time, trying to survive. I never really noticed my birthday since, you know, I was too preoccupied with taking care of myself. Then, the years started going by too fast till I just gave up trying to celebrate.”

“Y/N, Omega, look at me when I say this,” he cups your face in his hands, his nose rubbing against your, both of your eyes staring at each other. “Never feel ashamed of your past. Never feel ashamed to tell me things about yourself. I will never judge you. I love you so much, baby. Never forget that.”

“Yes, alpha,” and the matter was forgotten in your eyes. For the rest of the day, Dabi treated you like a queen (although, if you’re being honest, it didn’t really feel any different from how he normally treats you. If anything, he didn’t even let you walk). That night, he cooked you dinner and played with your hair the way you liked as he lulled you to sleep.

Once he was sure you were asleep, Dabi crept out of the bed. He watched you for a moment as you whined, hand-stretched out searching for your alpha. Your hand soon found his scented pillow and you decided it would be your ‘faux’ Dabi. It was adorable. Dabi made sure to snap a few pictures before sneaking out to the living room to make his call.

“Dabi, this better be fucking good. It’s booty-call hours and I know you’re not calling me for that….unlesssss?”

“Giran shut the fuck up and listen. I want to use some of my money to take Y/N on a small trip for her birthday. Not too extravagant. She hates shit like that,” Dabi was already regretting calling the man.

“When’s her birthday?” Dabi could hear Giran shuffling around with a piece of paper. He could imagine he was probably writing down information.

“It was today. She just t-”

“What the fuck, Dabi?!?! How could you forget her FUCKING BIRTHDAY?! SHE’S THE BEST FUCKING THING YOUR SORRY ASS IS GONN-” Dabi had to cool the rage of his inner alpha.

“She just fucking told me, you old, senile bastard. She wasn’t even going to tell me. I found out because her good-for-nothing mother called,” Dabi was pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still pissed you hadn’t shared something so important with him. He was even more pissed at himself for not realizing sooner.

“Oh...my bad. How soon do you want the plans to be made?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t care how much money it costs to get reservations and shit. I just want to treat her the way she deserves. Also, tell Shigaraki that I’ll be out of commission for the days you book. I mean it. None of you better fucking call me,” his voice dropped an octave. “This is my omega’s time. I’ll let you sorry fucks die if you’re stupid enough to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“Geez, I get it. I’ll tell the others. If it’s for Y/N, we’ll lay low for a few days,” you had managed to weasel your way into the hearts of the group. Every time one of them had come to your home pleading, you took care of them. Hell, even Shigaraki tolerated you.

“Thank you,” Dabi meant it. “I’ll let you get back to your sleep.”

Then, he was back in the bed with you. You knew nothing of what had happened and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he told you of the plans he (well, technically Giran) made.

***

“Hell no,” why did you have to be such a difficult omega? “I have a job, Dabi.”

“Baby, it’s only a few days. I know you have more than enough vacation days saved up. Just let your daddy take care of you,” you blushed hard. You had been getting ready for work when Dabi told you he had planned something for your birthday.

“Dabi, I can’t just not show up to work. Plus, I have work to do for this project,” you went to step around your alpha when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest.

“No, you don’t. I already asked your boss and he said you can come. It’s only for a few days babe. I promise you’ll love it,” he was giving you his pout. You turned your head to the side knowing that you would cave in to his demands the longer he looked at his face. You must resist temptation. You must...you must...you...have never seen Dabi look at you the way he is now. He seems so excited for whatever he has planned. You can’t bring yourself to deny his excitement.

“Fine. What do I need to pack?” Dabi rejoiced in your defeat, smiling down at you.

“I’ve already packed for you,” your alpha pulls a suitcase from underneath the bed. Ahhh, so that’s where some of your clothes had gone. “I’ve already got the car outside all gassed up, Giran said he’ll drop by to make sure the house is taken care of, and I’ve got your favorite snacks waiting to be eaten by you.”

This man truly loves you with all his being. You spend the next hours napping in the car per Dabi’s request. Even though you’d never admit it, it feels so good to have a break from working in your work cubicle. Maybe, you’ll decide to take a few more days off more often. After you wake up for your cat-nap, you eat your snacks like a good girl, giggling at any of the stupid roadtrip games Dabi comes up with.

Every time you ask about your destination, Dabi just shoots you a conspiratorial grin and tells you to “enjoy the ride like a good girl.” You squint your eyes at him the first few times as you think about reaching over to grab his dick. You decide against it, your self-preservation telling you that idea may not be the best course of action.

The day is slowly turning into evening but you don’t mind. The day has been immaculate at your alpha’s side.

Eventually, Dabi tells you to close your eyes. You do so with no argument, ready to see what your surprise is (at this point, you’ve learned there is no point in trying to protest). You hear the car stop and Dabi helps you out, his hands covering your eyes as he walks you somewhere. From what you can feel, you’re somewhere with gravel. That revelation does nothing to tell you where you are.

“How much further?” you whine. You’ve been walking for a few minutes now, every so often you stumble over a pebble, making Dabi laugh.

“How do you manage to trip and I’m literally guiding you?” you huff.

“Answer my question fool,” you yelp as Dabi gives you a quick swat to the butt. You rub the sting away and give him an imaginary glare.

Instead of answering, he uncovers your eyes to the most beautiful thing you've seen in your life (aside from Dabi ofcourse). A log cabin stands in front of you, large windows spanning from the ground to the ceilings. It looks like it may be made of pine wood. Everything looks so polished and poised. But, that’s not even the best part.

From where you stand, you can smell water. Walking a few steps ahead of Dabi, you can see a beautiful lake behind the cabin, the water glistening as it reflects the setting sun. Hues of magenta, tangerine, and candy apple sprays across the sky. Light is giving way to night before your very eyes and you feel yourself beginning to tear up. The sandy beach feels heavenly on your toes, the air feels calm and fresh, the lake still sparkling.

You can still hear Dabi behind you as you wrap your arms around yourself. You try to cry silently but, you just end up full-on sobbing. No one has ever done something so thoughtful for you; no one has cared enough about you to do anything like this.

Your alpha doesn’t ask you what’s wrong. He just keeps you against his chest as he lets you deal with your emotions. By the look on your face, he can tell he’s done a good job by consulting with Giran.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my omega,” you grin. You’ll have to start letting him care for you more often if this is what he comes up with.

You both walk along the beach, laughing at each other when either of you trip on the mounds of sand. It’s another moment of calm that is reserved for only the two of you.

“So, you do like the beach?” Dabi looks nervous as he holds you.

“I love it.”

“Good. It’s our beach now,” and, although it sounds innocent enough, you look at him with squared eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I bought the beach,” give it some time to set in. Okay, maybe a few more moments of digestion.

“YOU DID WHAT?!?!”

—————————————————————————-

TagList💕

@sinclairsamess @sakurashortstack

#Dabi #bnha #mha #dabi x reader #alpha dabi #omega reader #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #dabi is sweet #female reader #fanfiction writer #anime fanfiction

848 notes · View notes

adorehs · 4 years

Text

changing your tune

Hi I just wanted to mention that a lot of this might be inaccurate. This is based off of my time in my city's youth orchestra so while I’m sure some things transfer, but not everything. Kinda bad at the end per usual <3

Summary: Classical Musician!Y/N has created a simple life for herself consisting of herself, her music, and the boy she loves. Friends to lovers. (15.6k words)

Warnings: mostly fluff, slight angst, mentions of smut, minor character death.

“I just think I need to have a fuller tone to really get the dark undertone of the music. Like, it’s so clearly meant to be this dark, horrible travesty but if I can’t get the tone right then it’s just this light and airy travesty. But I can’t bend the note just right, my air is, like, gone,” you vent out.

Harry watches you intently from where he sat in your study with a hand holding his chin up and an elbow on his knee, “I think it sounds great.”

You look at him unimpressed, “It’s all chalumeau. Of course it sounds good, it just doesn't sound right.”

“Right, so it’s in the lower register,” he mentally reminds himself, “What’s it supposed to sound like?”

You let out a sigh and pick up your clarinet from the stand it rested on, “It sounds kind of different without my custom, but the r13 will work for now,” you mumble, adjusting the reed and ligature on your mouthpiece, a nervous tick you picked up in school.

Your eyes flicker up to Harry, waiting for his glance of approval before you start. Your cheeks expertly swell and decompress in size as you circular breathe through the measures, your mind concentrated on the smooth transitions between rhythms and the registers, cutting the triplets short as you’ve written them.

The soothing noise of your clarinet fills the large room immediately, your forte becoming all too loud to process any thoughts. The victorian-styled room had low hanging lights that streamed a warm orange tone over the patterned chairs and built-in bookcase that held hundreds of music books with etudes you’ve mastered since your youth.

Though the warm tones made the room feel homely, the curtains were drawn back and the windows were opened ajar allowing a short breeze to flow in every two minutes. You knew better then to turn on a fan around your hand-crafted instrument. You understood the fluctuation it would cause if the temperature changed drastically day by day. This is why you were careful to turn the air conditioning off before you opened the window, keeping the temperature relatively steady through the day.

Harry watched you in pure concentration- he was truly enamoured by the way you lost yourself in music. He wanted to understand what you were saying but it was hard- he enjoyed music but was completely deaf when it came to describing the mood of a piece.

He worked with numbers, and loved it. A born accountant in your presence, watching you play your clarinet with what seems to be ease. But you seemed so distant from him. A whole world away. And how was he going to sweep you off your feet when he can hardly understand your career?

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly as the technique became more difficult, effectively making you let off your clarinet and huff a breath of disapproval. Your heart was clearly pounding after the page you played at full tempo for effect, but you tried not to show the effect the music had on your body.

You reached for your pencil before erasing a note you had written and writing another one in, a higher register G#. The graphite smeared on the yellow-tinted manuscript book that sat on the music stand before you, everything shaking lightly as vigorously colored in the line and drew in a staccato articulation above the sixteenth note.

Forgetting Harry’s presence, you picked up your clarinet once again and played the same measure in sets of five, increasing the tempo by four beats each time, before deciding it is satisfactory for now.

Your face only showed a slight upturn, as you wrote in a new measure, testing how the chord would resolve with some soft air and incomplete vibrations through the wooden block. Minor chord or major? you asked yourself.

Harry’s eyes watched yours as they darted across the room from your clarinet, to your manuscript, to your metronome, which was silently flashing a red light at a tempo of 180 and a subdivision of eighth notes.

He wondered who taught you so harshly- he’d never seen someone so critical of their own work. You liked to make everything very perfect in a meticulous way- you knew just when to linger on the seventh of a chord to leave an uneasy feeling in the pit of one;s stomach and you were stellar when it came to expressing a story and emotion through your music. At least that’s what Harry thought.

“So where does your tone need to get fuller?” he asks again.

You looked up at him, slightly shocked. You had forgotten he was there, “When I get higher, like, near the F#. It has no depth to the note and it sounds like a playground piece,” you explain softly, watching as his eyes furrowed in confusion.

“So you want it to sound darker when the octave goes up?” he confirms one more time.

You nod, “Yeah. Want it to sound more emotional and thoughtful. It also makes me sound like a stylistically competent player,” your eyes flicker back to the page in an instant.

“I think your style is good. You have a good variety in the symphony, too. They’ll like this one. Get the solo down and then ask some people to come and play with you,” Harry comments, rubbing his hands on his corduroy pants as he sits back further in the chair. The heavy fabric makes a dissatisfying pulling noise as Harry moves around in the chair, resting his hands on the dark wooden arms with ornate carvings on the ends.

“I don’t know,” you sighed, “They haven’t taken my last three. If I can just make one good one, I can take some more risks and possibly compose a whole symphony,” you pause, making eye contact with Harry again, “But that’ll take years. Probably only when I retire from the orchestra.”

“They are good,” Harry argues weakly. He doesn’t know how to convince you because all he knows is that he likes it.

“Well clearly they’re not as good as you and I think,” you counter with a huff, picking up your clarinet once more before playing the same piece from the beginning.

After an overextended work week, Harry was excited to go out and have some fun with his friends. He was still a ripe twenty-six year old, working long and hard hours as a starting budget analyst, hoping to be promoted higher within the job and lighten his workload- at least that's what everyone promised will happen. Nevertheless, he still enjoyed the simple pleasures of going out and celebrating his friends.

It was an all too familiar setting- a sticky, trashed bar with little to no care given to the seats that were falling apart at the seams. He found himself thinking of the frat parties you had described to him when he asked what Greek Life was.

But, he was there to celebrate one of his colleagues' birthdays. It was her twenty-fifth, so he found himself understanding the want for a big party. The bar might have been trashed but it was large and suitable for the hundreds of people she seemed to invite.

And among the hundreds, he only viewed one. You.

You wore a dress that you pulled from the back of your closet and hadn’t seen the light of day since you were in college. You wore it to special events and networking parties, but you found it all too nice to wear to most other situations you found yourself in.

Harry had definitely forgotten your connection to his colleague, or better known as your sister. He watched as you greeted her with a wide smile and a kiss on the cheek, an awkward side hug was exchanged as everyone around you both cheered in excitement. You were pretty loved.

“Happy birthday Mon,” you repeat for the second time that day, “Hope the year treats you well.”

Your sister smiled in response, “Off to a great start,” she eyes the party reviving behind you, “I’m glad you could make it. Thought you’d have a performance tonight.”

You shook your head, “Nope. Requested this day off a year ago. Couldn’t miss my favorite day of the year!”

Your sister glances at you with a look of amusement, “Happy Monica day is your favorite of the year?”

“Yup, love happy Monica day,” you reiterate.

Monica opened her mouth to reply but was swiftly cut off by a deep British accent, “Happy birthday Mon!” you hear from behind you.

You turn around quickly, side stepping to allow Harry into your conversation. He leans into your sister before granting her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, “How are you?” he asks, replacing your spot in front of her.

You smile at Monica and halfheartedly wave a goodbye as you slowly make your way over to the bar to order some food. You decided a year ago that you were going to stop drinking. At first, it was a hard choice to make. You were used to having a drink in most social situations, especially being a young adult working with people of all ages. It was a common scene to find you in- an after party with hundreds of musicians having a glass of champagne or white wine in celebration.

You sat yourself on a deep crimson stool, swirling slightly as you waited for your sliders to be given to you. Watching as people met and reconnected was isolating for you. You knew very few people Monica worked with and found yourself just shy of saying hi to someone who looked friendly every time you were at a gathering such as this one.

Nodding a silent thank you as your sliders were placed in front of you, your attention shifts. It was the loud talking and blaring music that made your brain want to go into overdrive, never quite getting used to noises you couldn’t control.

“Hi, Y/N,” you feel a body slide into the seat beside you. You couldn’t exactly pin whose voice it was at first listen so you shift your body towards them and slide the plate between you two as a peace offering.

“Hey,” you reply, making eye contact with one of Monica’s friends you met when she first started working at the firm.

“How’ve you been? Haven’t seen you in ages.”

“I’m alright, Louis. And yourself?”

“I’m quite alright. Been working a lot. Itching to get promoted,” he lets out a small laugh, “But who isn’t.”

You shoot him a grin, “Not sure, I love my job.”

“When’re you playing next? Love to come see you play. Haven't been to the new show yet,” he leans in towards you and takes a slider before leaning back again.

“Play Thursday to Sunday every week until November. Then we switch to Christmas ballets,” you tell him with a grin, “I recommend Thursday or Sunday, though. Best prices and best crowd.”

He nods in confirmation, “I’ll have to take Harry with me, know he’s been bugging me to go with him for a while.”

“Yeah, bring him! It’ll be fun, we can all go out after too!” you counter, dismissing Louis' comment about Harry’s insistent nature. That was just him, you thought.

“Definitely,” he agrees, “Plus it’s a nice way to unwind. I’ll definitely see if I can come soon.”

“Oh, please! I love seeing a familiar face. Feel like I play better,” you laugh, “Still get nervous, but Harry always tells me I’ll do amazing.”

“Harry’s good at that,” Louis agrees, “Always makes sure you don’t undersell yourself. And he’s right! You’re amazing.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, “Thank you! He’s definitely everyone's biggest cheerleader,” you joke. Turning around entirely in your stool, your eyes sift quickly through the crowd in search of Harry. “See, there he is,” you chortle, “Hyping up Niall as he chugs a,” you squint.

“A beer, probably,” Louis completes for you.

You both laugh and watch as Niall shoots up from his spot on the ground in victory before immediately falling back onto the ground with great dramatics. The room roars as Harry helps his friend stand back up and walks him over to the bathroom before swinging the door back open, “Ladies and gentlemen,” he pauses for effect, “The boy lives!”

The room once again falls into a unison form of laughter as Niall appears behind Harry moments later, “Where’s the beer?” he shouts over the laughs, which quickly turn into cheers at his sportsmanship.

While Louis lets out a loud laugh at his friend's antics and moves towards the crowd to see more clearly, you looked up towards Harry. He dressed himself impressively well considering his lack of knowledge in the arts. Though he wore a simple outfit consisting of a red button up and black jeans, his confidence soared higher than anyone else’s you’d seen in a while.

His smile was infectious and seemed to fill his whole face and as his eyes raised to meet yours it grew to a tenfold. Speaking with his body language, you somehow sensed that he wanted you to get up and join him.

You shook your head with a smile and mouthed ‘I’m fine here!’ only to receive a ‘What!?’ in response. You shook your head in defeat and stood up, mouthing the same phrase only slower.

Harry replied with a look of realization and instantaneously, a pout replaced his smile. You frowned at your effect on him, not wanting him to feel upset because of you of all people.

You stood up and slowly started making your way over to him, allowing the smile to rediscover its place on his lips. He was watching you near him, when his head suddenly snapped towards a high pitched scream coming from your sister, “It’s midnight!” she shouts.

Harry chuckles at her dramatics and smiles when he feels your body press up against his side. He didn’t have to look to know it was you, he could smell your distinct perfume as you neared him and he was happy knowing you found comfort around him- though that should’ve been clear from the nights upon nights you spend together, him listening to your music and you listening to his rants.

Monica was handed a bottle of champagne and she stepped into the middle of the corner you all occupied, people filing in suit around her and forming a circular crowd.

“Hey everyone! Uh- thank you so much for coming- I mean it. It means a lot to me to be surrounded by a bunch of people I love on my favorite day of the year!” She jokes, earning some light laughs and a few words of endearment thrown back at her. “No, seriously, thanks a lot, and,” she trails off, her thoughts too blurry for her planned speech, “Here’s to twenty five!” she cheers, shaking the champagne bottle, allowing it to pop and spray all over. She quickly spins in an attempt to spray everyone, but the champagne bubbles over and only gets half the group.

You and Harry both laugh, shaking your hands to get the sticky substance off your bodies. “She tries every year and never succeeds,” you tell him.

He chuckles in response, “She gets too drunk to remember.”

“Or she just thinks that she’s sober enough to get it this year,” you laugh back.

Harry laughs and nods, “Definitely. She thinks she’s perfectly fine,” he points at Monica who is going around the circle and hugging everyone in thanks. “To be fair she looks okay,” he adds.

“She always does,” you agree with Harry.

The two of you fall silent and you stand back watching your sister make rounds. Harry’s hand creeps onto your back as he steps closer to you, bringing you in front of him. He hums along to the song you couldn’t remember the name of that was blaring on the speakers and he basks in the glory of being in your presence.

Soon enough, your sister had made her way over to the two of you, hugging you both and exchanging her thanks for coming and just as quick as she came, she left you two alone.

“So, uh,” Harry starts.

“Hey, um, I’m gonna leave. Got an early start tomorrow,” you tell Harry, pointing at the door.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. Yeah, you should go,” he stammers.

You smile at him, “Okay, cool. I’ll see you later?” you asked, stepping towards Monica to say a final happy birthday and goodnight.

“Yeah, definitely,” he nods in confirmation.

You wave before finding your sister and saying goodnight, then driving yourself back home.

Harry was sitting in bed with his laptop on his lap and a blanket covering his legs. He was doing some research in an attempt to find books that could teach him about music theory.

He told himself he wanted to be more involved in his friends' lives and further his education in one of his weakest subjects- music. But in reality, it was clear to those around him that he wanted to impress you and be more involved in your life and yours only. They had never seen him pick up a book on physical therapy or take a quick online course on python- he was doing it all purely for you.

He was contemplating if he should invest in a book or just take a free online course, both seemed like viable options but he wanted to optimize his time. He wanted to make it click faster.

He decided he’d try the online course and take his chances and if he still didn’t understand he would invest in a book.

So there he was on a Tuesday evening sitting in bed with his headphones in learning how basic chords were made. He wrote notes as if he was still in school and studied them after each lesson. He wasn’t fully immersed in the world like you were, but he felt as though he could carry a bit more of a conversation with you about music, especially when compared to before.

Harry was learning slowly but surely and in about a week he could, in theory, explain how to develop a minor chord from it’s major among various other basics (that you would probably think were common knowledge) but he had no recollection of learning.

As per usual, he spent every Monday and Wednesday evening with you. On Mondays, you would have movie night and on Wednesdays, he would get some work done in your office while you played. It never truly distracted him, either. Honestly, it made him feel very peaceful and he found that the routine was more about being in the presence of each other rather than making memories.

One Wednesday, he had completed his work early and as usual, he would sit and see what you had composed to help give his limited input on your compositions.

Typically, he would sit and listen silently with a slight tilt to his head while he thought up a thoughtful comment about your playing. You would always sit there anxiously, with your posture beginning to slouch since you were not playing anymore, waiting for a comment that you both knew would be neither helpful or negative.

Harry was good at that. He was good at making you feel like you were doing good with absolute sincerity and not a single waiver of his voice. His face would stay straight and he would find the good in it all. It was probably your favorite part of the man who sat with you on the particular day.

This time, unlike the last, your window was shut tight and you were trying your hardest to keep your hands steady. You couldn’t make the piece sound right. It sounded okay but that would not get you signed. It needed to be calculated and perfect in a theoretical standpoint. It also needed to be simple enough to split into parts for larger groups but difficult enough to have solo excerpts from each instrument- in case a full orchestra didn’t work.

And that was difficult to accomplish.

Harry knew that and he agreed- how could one person who hadn’t ever been signed make such an elaborate piece? He thought it was absolutely absurd that to maximize your chances you had to make the piece a combination of just about everything.

You sat with the same face as you usually did, one pleading for some sort of advice or criticism. What you weren’t expecting was for Harry to deliver.

“Think if you made it a minor chord instead of a major and ended on the seventh it could bring some edge,” Harry eventually says.

Your eyes widen slightly in confusion, “Yeah, uh, let me try that,” you stammered.

You covered what you had written with a sticky note, drawing on the new scale. You showed Harry the note and asked him if that was what he was thinking, to which he replied yes. You nod lightly and play the piece once again from the beginning, swaying slightly as you approached lyrical bits and narrowed your air stream to control your volume.

Harry nods along with your playing, pausing slightly in places he could tell you didn’t like much. Eventually, he watches as you play what he had suggested, anxiety rising up his throat in fear of not being accepted.

“Think I like it. But I need to fix some of the other stuff too,” you told him once you finished. “It would definitely feel right that way.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He rounded the long desk and joined you where you sat by the window in an uncomfortable chair made to help keep your posture near perfect. He crouched down so he could be eye level with your music and furrowed his brows.

You watched as he read the notes carefully, taking his time as he took in each technically challenging measure and the lyrically soft measures in contrast. You grew anxious for his approval so you busied yourself by taking the sticky note off of the manuscript and erasing and redrawing the notes for the new scale Harry advised you to add.

You took your time, slowly coloring each eighth note, the graphite crumbling down the page, leaving a light smear as you wiped it away with the side of your hand.

Harry looked up at you, “I think you should change this,” he points, “Make it flat and get rid of this note entirely,” he spoke slowly. You watch as his finger indicates each note and you nod along softly.

“Okay, I’ll try,” you agree.

He nods in response and rests his hand on your thigh, you hardly notice the action that felt natural in the moment.

You temporarily wrote in each suggestion and played the piece again from the beginning, a process the two of you were becoming increasingly annoyed with. As you approached the measure he had pointed out, your mind wondered: how did he know all this and why didn’t he mention any of it before?

Your air slowed down as your mind wandered and your fingers followed closely after, a ritardando, Harry noted. He hadn’t mentioned tempo but he found that bringing the piece down to cut time brought a new feeling that he couldn’t put his finger on.

Abruptly, you stopped, and Harry knew you didn’t realize. You both sat in silence for a moment before Harry stood up and moved back over to where he was sitting previously. He cleared his throat, “I’m gonna head out. Good luck Y/N,” he rushed out.

You shook your head in disbelief. You truly didn’t understand what just happened. But, you shook it off and tried again, keeping the ritardando.

Harry on the other hand, was in a state of panic. He had realized what he had done and he thought she did too, resulting in her abrupt stopping point.

Harry had begun to understand that he was in love with you. And he didn’t know until just then. But he had done everything just for you.

The following Sunday Harry finally managed to drag Louis out of his city apartment and downtown to the Meyerson Symphony Center where you were to perform Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Neither Harry or Louis have seen you perform this particular show so they were late to learn that you had auditioned for and successfully got the clarinet solo in a particular piece from the Symphony named Scherzo.

You had explained to Harry your appeal to this particular symphony- you found it to be unique of all the others that accompanied Shakespeare's work. Instead of relaying a difficult emotion or putting a satirical spin on a human issue like his other works did, you found Midsummer to be a pure romp into romance and the abnormalities of love.

And though you hadn’t been in love for a while, you found yourself feeling the emotion wholly through both the piece and music in it of itself.

Harry had read midsummer before- in fact he had seen it live with his mum and sister when he was younger, but he never understood the effect the music had on the play. He never looked into the contextualization of the play, let alone the deeper aspirations of it.

He understood music theory but he still had trouble analyzing music itself. He couldn’t pinpoint moods by just listening- he needed to see it written out which he believed hindered his ability to enjoy music to its fullest extent.

Needless to say, Harry entered the theater with Louis with a thought of determination. All he wanted was to find a way to understand the music and appreciate it as you did. They were both clad in matching suits, a simple black and white for the symphony, and made their way to the middle where their tickets directed them. Harry sat in the aisle and Louis sat right next to him, whispering in excitement of the show.

“I fucking love this story,” Louis says.

Harry lets out a quiet laugh, “I hardly remember it.”

Louis joins Harry in laughter and shrugs, “Oh well, it’ll still be good.”

Harry nods in agreement and turns away from Louis as the curtains open and the lights dim.

It wasn’t the first time he had seen you on this stage, but he found himself mesmerized as he found you with his eyes. He watched as you scanned the crowd quickly, your eyes jumping past him and Louis a few times before you recognized your friends. You shot them each a relieved smile and sat up straighter in your chair.

The conductor cast a smile at everyone before beginning the first piece, the Overture making its debut in the room. Just as Harry was used to, the melodic sounds filled the room to the brim, every last corner feeling the pure emotion that was put into the piece.

Harry couldn’t describe the feeling but he knew he was proud. He understood that watching you in your element is probably the worst thing he could do for himself, but he had to. It was pure torture to watch you fall in love with something that wasn’t him, but he loved the way it happened.

You lost yourself so easily and he felt as though you were the loudest in the room. He could hear your sound over everyone else's, your instrument being isolated from all the others in his mind. Harry could swear he had never been so proud in his life to see someone do what they love.

As the overture came to a close, his hands met in applause and he felt the need to stand up just so you would know how much he loved it. But as quickly as he started, he stopped his applause and the next piece was beginning.

No. 1 Scherzo. It was the second piece on the track and your personal favorite for reasons you would not disclose to Harry. He had heard you practice it a few times before, nodding along as he recognized fragments of the piece.

It was around three minutes into the piece when Harry learned why it was your favorite. Because it was just you. You were the only one playing- your solo bringing tears to his eyes. It was just that moment when you looked up and made eye contact with Harry, him nodding with a large grin on his face with reassurance, you’re doing amazing, it read.

When you looked back up at your music, your eyes narrowing in concentration, you failed to notice the look on Harry’s face. His phone had buzzed and he found himself confused- he was sure he put it on silent. The feeling that was elicited was nothing but good, so he decided to go check just for some peace of mind.

He stood up, pointing at his phone when Louis questioned him silently, gaining a nod of approval as Harry exited the theater in a rush.

The second he exited the room that was beginning to become overly stuffy and constricting, he took a deep breath and told himself you’re probably just overreacting.

Harry was anywhere from overreacting. It was that exact moment that he had received a text that was pushed through do not disturb. The text was from his mum and read nothing but horrible news. The five words that found themselves on his screen that illuminated his face as he stood right next to the door called him a coward. They read: This contact has dialed 999.

Harry understood the severity of the situation but he didn’t know what to do. All he knew is that she called- he didn’t know why or where she was. He didn’t know if he had to book a flight back home or not.

Just as Harry was getting up and leaving for his own agenda, you had finished your solo. You looked up once again, hearing the applause and searching for Harry once more. But this time, you found Louis sat alone with a large grin creeping across his face and his applause filling the space next to him.

You had never felt as hurt as you did in that moment. He had left you. Harry, the man you now realized you love, found something more important than you and your aspirations, and there was no physical way that it wouldn’t sting. What you didn’t know was that as your heart was breaking, Harry’s mum’s was.

It had taken two hours for someone to answer the phone. Two hours for Harry to spend most of his savings on a red eye to the London airport. Ten hours for him to touch down in London. Three to make his way to the hospital next to his childhood home.

He was distraught to say the least.

He had left without mention of what was happening, his phone exploding with texts from Louis and Monica making sure he was okay, but not a word from you. He felt betrayed, but he understood. You had things going on too and he wasn’t the center of your universe.

The hospital looked sterile, not a single thing out of place. The walls were coated in a pristine white color that nearly blinded Harry’s bloodshot eyes, and he spent a few minutes catching his breath before he asked where his dad was.

He walked sluggishly onto the elevator, the weight of reality crushing him as he waited for what seemed like ages but really was hardly forty seconds for the elevator to jolt to a stop. When it stepped off, he saw what he imagined to be organized chaos.

People were walking quickly up and down the lengths of the corridor and he found himself passing by far too many crying people to think anything good could ever happen in a hospital- not revival nor birth.

He walked the length of the corridor in silence, taking in his surroundings. He was in shock- he could hardly even process that he was in England, let alone why he was there. It was only when he stopped shortly at the sight of his mum and sister sleeping, their heads resting on each other's, that he realized the severity of what was happening.

And so, with a deep breath, he sat down on the floor before them, resting his back lightly against the leg chairs and he rested his forehead on his knees. It didn’t seem like his life that he was living- he felt like this was all a vivid dream, but it wasn’t. It was less than twenty four hours ago that he was with Louis watching your performance and now he sat with his family outside of his father's hospital room praying he would be okay.

Harry was one of hopeful thinking and that was made apparent when a doctor exited his father's room with a stack of papers.

Harry was the first to stand, followed by his mother and sister, who were unsure of when he had arrived. He shook hands with the doctor, who he learned was named doctor Wilson. He was clad in the same scrubs as every other doctor but Harry found his to be a special type of unattractive- or maybe that was his subconscious distracting himself from the situation at hand.

Doctor Wilson cleared his throat as Anne made her way next to Harry, Gemma shielding herself from the news from behind him, “So,” he cleared his throat “Mr. Styles came in about a year ago to have his lungs screened, as you may know, and he was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer,” he nodded.

“Well, Mr. Styles seems to have,” he left a pregnant pause in his sentence, “He seems to have the cancer cells spreading rapidly. We would like to put him on a self contained respirator and monitor him closely to give you some more accurate information about his cancer and give you some answers within a few hours,” he says slowly.

Harry shook his head in disbelief- his father had never mentioned cancer let alone a screening.

“Thank you doctor,” he heard Anne speak from behind him. He sent a last glance at the broken family and moved back into the room.

It was the first you had heard from him in about half a week. He had called you on Wednesday after not answering your messages asking if he will make his way over on Monday for your movie night.

“Hi,” you answer softly.

“Hey- uh,” you heard some shuffling, “Hey.”

Your eyes furrowed in confusion, “Are you coming over?”

There was a long pause on Harry’s end and you just about opened your mouth to confirm that he could hear you when he replied, “No,” he said shortly. “I- uh- I’m at home.”

“Do you want me to come over?” you asked in confusion.

“No, like, I’m in the UK,” he quickly corrected you.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, leaving a pregnant pause on your end, “Oh,” you replied.

“Yeah, I-” you could hear a few other voices in the background and you imagined they were his mum and sister, “My dad- he’s not doing so good. He has stage four lung cancer.”

“Oh,” you let out again. “I- uh- sorry, I really just don’t know what to say right now.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle, which you could tell had bitter undertones, “That’s alright… don’t exactly know what to say myself.”

“I- uh- I’m really sorry,” you tell him sincerely, “God I feel like such an ass,” you expressed.

Harry’s eyes furrowed in confusion and he looked up at his mum to ensure she wasn’t listening, “No need, I promise it’s fine you don’t have to say anything.”

“I just- I was so mad at you for leaving and not saying anything and ignoring me. Thought I did something wrong or you were mad at me,” you explain. “Didn’t know what was going on and I was scared that I lost you.”

“Couldn’t lose me if you tried,” Harry laughed softly, you joining his laughter momentarily.

“Are you still mad I didn’t tell you I was going?” Harry asked after a long moment of silence.

“No- not at all. Was mainly just worried,” you reassure him, “I totally understand,” but you didn’t. How could he not tell you? Did he not think you deserved to know why he left when you were playing for him?

“I’m really sorry. Kinda just fell off the face of the Earth for a few days. Was anticipating the news and trying to stay strong for my mum and Gemma,” he explains.

Before you could reply, Harry starts again, “Hey, uh, we’re going back to the hospital so I’ll talk to you later, alright?” he says quickly before hanging up and leaving you alone in your study, clarinet in front of you.

You truly didn’t know how to cope with what just happened- it felt like heartbreak on two spectrums- family and lover. But he was neither, which hurt even more.

You picked up the piece of handcrafted wood that sat in front of you and tried your hardest to pour your heartbreak into the piece- adding pain, edge, and suffering to the nearly- done piece in an attempt to exert your feelings into something productive.

It worked like a charm, which was something you felt bad mentioning. You found yourself falling in love with the piece, fractures of your heart making up every line and the composition falling right into place as your muse fell right apart across the world.

It was the next morning when you received the message from Harry: He’s gone. In his sleep. I’ll be home in a week. Gotta sort some things out. -H

Harry arrived home that following Tuesday and he was exhausted but grateful to be back to his tiny townhouse in the middle of a city with his friends surrounding him.

He felt as though coping wasn’t an option anymore- he had taken up a whole week for that and in this moment in time he felt as though he had already done enough coping.

There was a memorial service the weekend after his father died and to say Harry’s family were crushed would be an understatement.

Anne, Gemma, and Harry each had prepared a speech for the service and none of them felt as though they could do the senior Styles any justice. He was a good man and they couldn’t even begin to explain that to everyone there. Nobody could understand the pain in the same way as they did, so they did their best to remember him in the best light.

Harry was mainly happy for one thing- the following day was Wednesday. He had taken off the rest of the week so he could recover from any jet lag and start the new week back with a fresh start, so he knew that tomorrow would be a great day to catch up. With work and with you.

He hadn’t seen a single person since he was back but upholding the tradition was important to him. He favored you over most all his friends anyway, so when he parked his old car in the driveway of the large house you inherited from your grandparents, he was excited.

He knocked twice and rang your doorbell once,queuing you to open the door in shock less than a minute after. “What are you doing here?” you ask confused, pulling Harry into a long hug. You had missed him on his ten days of abstinence from you.

“Got back yesterday, can’t skip out on tradition,” he shoots you a smile, letting go of your warm embrace. You took a moment to look at him before deciding he wanted a distraction from everything going on in his life.

You open the door further, beckoning him to come in, “Well come on, I need your opinion on my piece,” you gesture towards your office dramatically.

Harry chuckles and bows in thanks, “After you,” he says with a posh accent.

You both laugh, heading inside to where your things were set up and ready to go. He sat down in the same chair as he always does and you round the desk to sit where your clarinet was standing and your manuscript laid.

“Okay, so I added, kind of a lot, while you were gone,” you warm him.

He nodded and gestured for you to play, “Well go on then. Show me what you added,” he crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair.

You glanced at Harry and your music a few times each in an attempt to correlate the two in your mind- this was your Harry and he would never hurt you. You began to play the piece that you had become sickly familiar with but Harry found himself utterly perplexed at the sound of a new beginning. You had nearly changed the entire beginning and Harry loved it.

He found it to be oddly comforting to listen to you for what felt like the first time ever but in reality it was just another sense of stability in the world you two had created- the world that was exclusively Harry and Y/N.

The moment you reached the end, a bit he had helped you with, you found yourself stumbling over your composition, making Harry's brow furrow together. You were a perfectionist when it came to music- you loved the control that came with being able to play flawlessly and change how it all came together and he found it odd that you of all people were messing up something you had written in for weeks.

“Sorry,” you let out a huff, running a hand through your hair, “I’m really stressed and it’s really making this all worse.”

Harry nodded in understanding, “You should take a break,” he tells you with full seriousness.

You look at him with a blank face for a moment before bursting out into laughter, “You can’t be serious.”

Harry looked at you confused, “I’m serious.”

“Harry this is my job. This is equivalent to me getting a promotion. I can’t stop!” you explain harshly.

Harry nodded, “I understand. Just-” he paused, “Just come with me, okay?”

“No, Harry, I can't, I have to do this,” you stood your ground.

“Y/N,” he spoke firmly, “If you hate this and want to kick me out for a week and let you compose on your own after this, you can. Just come.”

You let out a sigh and deliberated your options, “Fine. But there is a high chance you’re not showing up at my door for a week,” you point an accusatory finger at Harry.

He raises his hands in defense, “Okay, noted. Let’s go slowpoke,” he teased.

You flashed him your middle finger and a toothy grin before packing up your clarinet and setting it on your desk. You follow Harry out to his car and get in the passenger seat as he starts the car and makes his way out of your neighborhood.

“Can I ask where we are going?”

“Patience is a virtue,” Harry replied, making you roll your eyes dramatically.

“You’re so annoying,” you reply.

“You love me,” he states smugly, making your eyes grow the size of saucers.

“Not right now I don’t” you tease once you recover from your previous state of shock.

Harry shakes his head and says, “Home Depot. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

You wondered why he could be taking you to Home Depot of all places- not getting food or going shopping to find another piece of clothing you don’t need.

Harry parked easily before exiting the car, you follow after him in a haste. You have to job to catch up with Harry who seems to be walking a mile a minute to get into the building, “What the fuck are we doing here?” you ask again.

“We,” Harry says, pointing at the two of you, “Are going to paint that white wall in your office,” he says with a smile.

Your face mirrors his, a grin of your own making its way across your face. You had mentioned to Harry months ago that you were itching to paint the room but you never made the time for yourself to do that.

This time, it was you who took the lead, teasing Harry for taking too long to make his way into the store. You find your way to the back of the store where you see a few employees mixing paint for customers and you find your way to the pantone swatches, Harry immediately picking up a brown one, “I think it’ll match the wood, no?”

You laugh and shake your head, “No I want it to be your hair color.”

Harry’s mouth opens in realization before grabbing another strip. He squints, reading the name aloud, “Werge,” he says confused.

You fall into a fit of laughter before moving down the wall to look at the blues, the color you were actually hoping to get.

With Harry’s unwillingness to be serious and your contagious laughs, it took you forty five minutes to find the color you had seen online a few months ago and had screenshotted on your phone.

You make your way over to an employee and ask for a gallon of the deep navy color, paying and making your way back into Harry’s car within a few minutes.

Your knee was bouncing in anticipation on your way home and you didn’t realize until Harry rested his palm on it, asking you, “What’s got you so nervous?” to which you reply:

“Not nervous, just excited.”

Harry chuckled and kept his hand there for the rest of the ride to your house, which you found to be far too close then you wanted it to be.

You both found yourselves in your garage loading your arms with painters tape and tarp to ensure your room is painted to perfection and not too messy afterwards.

You spilled some paint into the tray and used a roller to begin putting the fresh paint on the middle of the wall. Harry gasps when he sees the color in contrast with the wood that covered every other wall in the room, “It matches so well,” he comments, using a smaller brush to begin on the bottom strip of the wall where the painters tape stuck.

He sat on the floor, his legs crossed beneath him, and you stood a few feet to his left, the paint sitting between the two of you.

You nod, “I know, it compliments the wood really well.”

Harry shakes his head, “Not the wood. I meant it matches my eyes,” he draws out.

You roll your eyes and let out a shut up before looking at him.

“Seriously,” he persists, setting his head next to the gallon that sat on the floor.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded slowly, dipping your roller back onto the tray, allowing the residue to fall off before you rolled a bit on his face and shirt.

“What the fuck?” he laughs, sitting up immediately.

“I had to check!” you exclaim innocently. “You know, now that I look, I think you’re right. It does match, we should use more,” you conclude.

“Now that I look,” Harry starts, with an evil glint in his eye, “I think this is the color your shirt is missing,” he concludes, flinging his brush in your direction allowing the paint to fall on your face and shirt.

“Oh my god!” you shout as Harry doubles over in laughter.

You bring your brush into the paint once more, taking a threatening step towards Harry. He flinches, making you chuckle and redirect the paint onto the wall again, making him breathe a sigh of relief.

He begins again on the bottom edge and before you could think you're safe, Harry gets paint on your ankle from where he sat on the floor.

You let out a loud gasp, “This is war!” you exclaim.

“Or you can just admit that you needed a break,” Harry shrugs, “It’s quite simple.”

You narrow your eyes and look at him, “I am going to cover you in paint. It’s quite simple,” you mock him childishly.

He shakes his head with a laugh before painting the rest of your ankle, making a ring around your foot.

It had taken two hours to complete painting the wall and to complete your paint war. You and Harry found yourselves in your backyard while your sprinklers were spraying the grass.

“Best way to clean,” Harry breathed out.

“You say you’re one with nature but what are you going to say when my grass is blue?” you ask him as you scrub at your legs to get off the paint.

“I’ll say part of me is really with nature this time,” he says shaking the water out of his hair as he walks towards the hose that was attached to the side of your house.

You shake your head in disbelief, “I don’t think that’s how it works,” you say, looking at Harry as he walks towards you with the hose gushing water out.

You step towards him and let him spray you down and you watch as the paint falls off your skin and into the grass, your shirt clinging to your body.

Harry tries to keep his attention on your face and not on the black bra that begins to show from your wet shirt that stuck to your body like a second skin.

You fiddled with the fit of your shirt, trying to make sure you were comfortable, before scrubbing your arms and legs clean.

Harry and you had decided after the first hit that you would do your best to avoid each other's faces just to make everything easier when it came to cleaning.

You rinse your hair fully before deciding you're as clean as you’d get without using a proper shower (which you didn’t want to turn blue from the paint), so you stepped towards Harry with your arm extended towards him.

“My turn,” Harry says softly, handing you the hose before spreading his arms out and letting the water hit his entire body, “This feels nice,” he comments.

“You’re crazy,” you reply. Harry shakes his head and takes his shirt off in an attempt to get everything off and you almost look away instinctively- you weren’t supposed to see your friend like this.

He allows the pressure of the hose to get most of the paint off his body but he seems a bit carefree about the cleanliness of his body at this point- you’re assuming this is the distraction you both needed from your mundane lives.

Harry finishes off with the hose and you run inside to grab the two of you towels, opting to stay outside for the rest of the night.

You both sit outside on the back porch swing that sat in your yard, wrapped in towels so you don’t get too cold in the autumn air. “You were right,” you mutter, leaning your head onto his shoulder.

“About?” Harry edges you on and you can practically hear him smiling through his words.

“I needed a break.”

What felt like a year was only two months and in those two months you had accomplished what you had been attempting since eighteen. You finished what seemed to be the perfect piece from a technical standpoint.

It told a story of betrayal and heartbreak and it included a plethora of twists in tone and changes in tempo and unresolved keys to add edge and lead the listener on. The piece, in theory, was among the most perfect ones written.

At least that's what Harry told you and that's what you tried to tell yourself.

You had just finished the process of getting it all recorded, recruiting some of your friends from the orchestra to take home your manuscript that you wrote in harmonies and new melodies to.

You spent a week editing the music together, sending recordings back, asking for retakes, and adjusting volumes, tempos, and tone before you were satisfied with the music.

All in all, it was a musically complex and fundamentally difficult piece that could be extended into a show or turned into a series of simpler solos- whatever would get your music sold to a publisher, you were willing to do.

You had contacts from your previous attempts at selling your compositions, contacts that rejected you but told you to come back if you had something new. You did not take the suggestion lightly.

You had mastered an email with your pitch- stating your name and your credentials, attaching a file of the piece, along with the score which separated individual parts and showed their dynamic together. It was your life's work and a story you were excited to sell, and that is why you were particularly excited when you received an email back the following week.

The email, in short, explained that a publisher would like to meet with you and is interested in helping you publish the music and help you get on the radar of a symphonic orchestra.

You were a giddy mess leading up to your meeting, your leg shaking in anticipation and your heart beating so loud you swear you could feel it in your throat. So, when it arrived it felt surreal.

You stepped into the tall building in a haze, your hands clutching onto your score and your body clad in your favorite orchestral dress that you find to be the one you wear to the majority of your auditions. You call it your good luck charm.

The receptionist was short and directed you to the fifth floor and gave you strict instructions to wait to be called in by Flynn Bradford’s assistant. You sat in the waiting room with a warm overcoat covering your body in the meantime.

When you got called up your hands began to sweat. You find your way into Bradford’s office and with a nervous step forward, you take your jacket off and sit down on the small chair before his desk.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself with a handshake, Bradford immediately recognizing your name.

“Flynn Bradford, a pleasure,” he returns with a friendly smile.

He was a middle aged man with a few silver hairs peeking through, but he wore a friendly smile and seemed very composed nonetheless. He took your score and opened it immediately. He looked over it in silence for a few moments, you sitting on the edge of your seat.

“I do have to say, Ms. Y/L/N, I was waiting to meet you so I could go over this with you. I think you’re a brilliant composer,” he speaks slowly.

You swallow harshly, “Thank you so much,” you gush, “I’ve been at it since I was a kid so I’m glad you liked it.”

He nods again, sifting through the pages, “And I have to say I’m impressed by the tone in the demo and the overall markup of the piece. I think there are a few minor changes that we’d like to see done but all in all I think it’s good.”

You nod your head quickly, “Of course and I was expecting to do so. I- uh- how many changes are we thinking about here?”

“Well it’s still your piece, so quite minor ones just to increase your chances of having it sold to a school or a symphony. Or, you could keep it how it is but that might not be the easiest to sell.”

“Right, so hypothetically, if I get all the changes done and we’re satisfied within a few weeks, it can go off to you?” you ask in shock.

“It seems to be that way, yes. I’ll send you a contract and some markups once I get to talk with my team about this. It would be best to get your own lawyer to look over this for copyright purposes and to make sure you’re alright with all the fine print,” he advises.

“Yes, I will definitely do that, yeah. Thank you so much,” you reiterate.

He hums a reply and hands you back your score with a tight lipped smile, “So this meeting was a bit quicker and the other might be too depending on what you like and want. Remember all the corrections we send are suggestions so you do what you want and we’ll be alright with whatever you choose to do,” he reminds you.

You nod and shake his hand once more, leaving the building with bright eyes and a winning score in your hands.

The first instinct you had as you sat back into your car was to call Harry but you were so overwhelmed with excitement you decided that going to see him at his house would be a better idea.

After all, he deserved to be the first person to know because he helped you so much when it came to the composition of this piece.

You were smiling incredibly wide as you made your way over to his townhouse in the city. His complex was very modern, a clear juxtaposition to your victorian styled home, but you welcomed it warmly. You enjoyed the prospect of having a place to go that is more minimal in comparison to your cluttered property.

It was hardly fifteen minutes before you parked outside of his home, your car finding its normal spot in the driveway of his garage.

Your legs carried you faster than you could have imagined, rushing you to the front of his house and your hand pounded against his door with a sense of urgency.

Harry took his time making his way downstairs, a towel around his waist and an impatient girl he had hardly met waited in his bed upstairs.

He opened his door slightly, allowing his head to peek out of the small crack he created, “Hey!” he exclaimed when he realized it was you.

“Hi! Can I come in?” you ask excitedly.

“I’m not exactly decent,” his hand scratches the back of his neck, “Can you wait down here as I get some clothes on?”

“Sure, take your time,” you nod in understanding, allowing Harry to make his way back upstairs.

“Who’s at the door?” the girl asks from her spot on his bed as Harry changes quickly into some sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

“Just a friend, she should be gone soon,” he replies.

“You sure? She seemed really excited to see you.”

Harry lets out a sigh, “Logan, I promise she's just a friend. And what does it matter anyway?”

“Well I don't want to be the other woman,” she pouts, “But if you say she’s just a friend then I believe you.”

“Thanks,” he called over his shoulder briefly as he made his way back downstairs to where you were waiting on his sofa.

“So whats up?” he asks, “Want anything to drink?”

“No, I’m alright. I have some news, though,” you say, enthusiasm raising once again.

“Okay, lay it on me,” Harry joins you on the sofa.

“So I met with Flynn Bradford today,” you lead on, hoping Harry could understand what the news was.

“No way,” he exclaimed after a moment of silence. “He picked you up? That’s amazing holy shit! Congrats!”

“Thanks! You helped so much, I thought you had to be the first to know. And on Wednesday you can help me decide what corrections to add, too. This is all so exciting! It’s happening so fast!” you ramble quickly, standing up and pulling Harry into a hug.

“No you did that all on your own! I knew they’d pick you up, too. So fucking talented,” he mumbles, returning your embrace.

“Thank you oh my goodness! Okay, I just wanted to come over quick to tell you that. I have to work on some audition music so I’ll head out in a few,” you say.

Harry opens his mouth to reply when you both hear his bedroom door open. Harry’s eyes widened in realization and your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Harry?” you hear an unrecognizable voice, “You done?”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes as you start to realize what was happening. He was with someone. He found someone and it wasn’t you.

She walks down the stairs and your head immediately turns in the direction of the girl. You inhale sharply, trying to keep your tears in the ducts of your eyes as you see her in a t-shirt you know Harry absolutely loves.

“Hey, uh Logan. This is Y/N,” he trails off lightly, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

“Hi,” you smile falsely and extend your hand for her to shake.

“Hey, I’m Logan. You’re Harry’s friend?” she presumes, looking at the two of you.

“Yeah, we’re pretty close,” you pause, “Sorry, I didn’t know H was seeing anyone. This was kind of unexpected.”

“Oh that’s alright, I was going to leave soon anyway. Have to meet some friends for dinner,” she shrugged carelessly.

“No, no, you can stay. I feel bad. I can be out in a few minutes,” you tell her with a soft smile.

She looked at you and Harry intervened before she could get a word out, “That’s alright, you can both stay if you want?” he suggested.

“I really do have to go,” Logan trailed off.

Harry quickly jumped at this, “Oh! Sorry, love. Yeah, go ahead, don’t mean to keep you here if you need to be somewhere.”

“I’ll just grab my stuff,” she smiles at the two of you and heads back upstairs to where you assume she was staying in Harry’s bedroom.

You and Harry stand in silence for a moment, “Sorry I should’ve asked to come over. I’ll go, you can spend some time with her before she leaves,” you finally stammer with a slightly wavering voice.

“No!” Harry exclaims a bit too loudly, making you flinch at his tone. “You can stay,” he whispers.

“That’s alright, I have to practice anyway,” you say in a rush, leaving his house at once without looking back at him.

It was two days later when Logan showed up at Harry’s house with a soft smile on her face and her eyes filled with lust.

Not only two minutes after Harry opened the door, his lips were on hers and they were making their ways upstairs to his bedroom. Logan had come to Harry’s for a quick fuck and Harry was there to provide.

It had taken them a few weeks to get into a flow and get a general idea of each others bodys and needs and now that they were getting good sex, they didn’t take many moments to stop and catch their breath.

There were a few moments, though where Logan knew she fell short of your company. She could tell with a quick glance at Harry that he was a lovesick puppy when it came to you and it became more and more apparent the more time they spent together.

When they weren’t fucking, he spent most of his free time talking about you. The girl of his dreams and the funniest, prettiest, nicest, person he’s ever met.

She had her hands in his hair and he had his hands tugging on her waist when his phone began buzzing from his bedside table.

Logan sat up from where she laid, straddling Harry’s lap. He let out a soft groan and ran and hand through his hair as he checked who had called him.

His lips fell into an effortless smile as he answered your call, leaving Logan breathless and unfulfilled. She resulted in getting up from his bed and walking out of his house once she realized it was you he was talking to.

That following Monday, you watched as Harry made his way into your home, an uncomfortable silence encompassing the two of you as you sat on your sofa.

“How was your date with Logan?” you ask eventually.

“Oh, it was- it wasn’t a date,” Harry tried to describe, leaving you confused. Harry wasn’t one for casual hookups.

“Then what was it?” you ask timidly, hoping for an answer you can understand.

“Just meeting an old friend from college,” he coughs.

“A friend?” you ask confused.

“Yeah, uh, a friend,” he emphasized.

“Oh,” you let out softly, “Why’d you get back with her?” you ask.

“I don’t think the girl I like likes me back, so I wanted a distraction” he replies vaguely, turning on your TV in search of a new film to watch on Netflix.

You swallow the lump in your throat before replying, “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Harry looks at you for the first time that day, “Well she doesn’t act like it at all, so I think I’m pretty sure she doesn’t like me.”

“I think you should tell her how you feel,” you shrug, “What is there to lose?”

“A person who I value a lot in my life,” he replies almost instantly.

You didn’t reply after that, allowing the film Harry chose in a haze to begin and you sink further into the sofa.

It had been an eventful week. You had sent back your manuscript twice between today and your original week and yesterday you had auditioned for the live orchestra for the annual Nutcracker production.

This had been your fifth year playing in it- you were very confident in your ability to get a spot in the orchestra- but it was the solo that brought you grief. Every year, each section had a competitive fight between musicians for the solos that are littered through the production.

You found that the busy week that had followed you around became the main reason you were able to get your mind off Harry. No matter what you did he meandered his way into your thoughts and you were beginning to feel pathetic that your mood relied on him.

It was when you came home from auditions on Tuesday evening when you got a phone call from Harry. You hesitantly picked up the phone and allowed him to speak first.

“Y/N? You there? Can you talk for a second?” he asked.

“Yeah, what’s up,” you reply.

“I need your advice. I think Logan wants to start seeing someone but she won’t admit it to me so I don’t know what I should do because I don’t want her to hold back on it just because of me,” he pushes quickly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Well why wouldn’t she admit she wants to see someone? She probably likes you, H, don’t worry. She’ll talk to you if she likes someone else.”

You heard a heavy sigh come from Harry’s end of the line as you picked up all your belongings from your car, your phone sitting between your shoulder and ear. “Yeah, I just- I don’t think she wants to tell me for some reason.”

What you didn’t know was that Harry was trying to prolong this call in an attempt to see if you would tell him to cut it off with Logan. It had only been a few weeks, and to be fair he hadn’t hooked up with her more then three times.

He knew he loved you but he needed confirmation that you liked him back. Logan insisted that you did but he didn’t trust her judgement as much as he trusted his own.

As you learned through numerous conversations with Harry, he is a charming man, but he is also a confusing one. He isn’t direct and he seems to beat around the bush when it comes to serious things in his life.

“Okay,” you say, confused, “Well just tell her that if she can’t be honest then she’s never going to be able to break it off with you. And if she says the same thing and you still don’t believe her just cut it off,” you advise selfishly.

You wanted to help Harry, you truly did, but you were also a human. You were selfish and needy and you wanted Harry to yourself. So, you did what a selfish, and jealous, girl would do and you hinted at breaking it off.

“Thanks,” he let out a huff of air, “Sorry, I have to sort some stuff out and I’m really stressed so I wanted your opinion about this,” he apologizes.

“It’s alright. Let me know how it goes, yeah? I gotta run some errands but I’ll see you tomorrow?” you confirm.

Harry hums in agreement and you hang up first, leaving him with the dial tone on his phone.

The first thing you do when you get in your office is check your email. You were waiting on a reply from Bradford- you had just sent in another round of corrections and asked him for minor technical critiques to finish off the piece. You were proud of where it was and you were thoroughly in love with it.

Just as you opened your laptop, you saw the taunting icon saying you have an unread email. You attempted to calm your nerves before opening it, preparing yourself for almost all senders.

But calming your nerves turned into a loud scream. Bradford had replied and informed you that he loved the piece and accepts it as your final draft. He also mentioned that he will fax over the legal documents to look over before meeting with him officially and signing all the necessary contracts.

Just as he said, later that night you received a thick stack of papers to sift off to your parents to help you look over and make sure everything was alright for you to sign.

You bind all the pages together with a few paperclips and make a quick drive into the suburbs to give your parents the good news and ask them to help you find someone to look over all the papers for you.

Your parents weren’t the most enjoyable people to live with but they were great to see in moderation. It was a large showcase of love every time you or Monica came home- they cooked, cleaned, and helped with just about everything you asked.

So, when you arrived home, you got the full treatment. Your mom had cooked a nice dinner for you all and your dad helped you look over the contracts in their entirety as you waited for dinner to be served. You deemed the papers safe and the three of you decided you could sign on them as soon as possible and get all the proper licensing.

You were overjoyed on your drive home and the moment you arrived back, you sent Bradford a quick email from your phone saying you can meet anytime to sign and that you had looked over the contracts.

The following morning, you had gotten back a response stating he was free later that afternoon and you took him up on his offer to sign on the fine Wednesday.

You met him back at his office, similar to the first time, and you had brought all the papers he had sent you, giving him a solid rundown of what you were expecting and negotiating royalties.

You had taken half an hour to settle on a final deal and Bradford had gotten the contracts readjusted for you to sign.

It was nerve wracking but exciting to be holding the pen in your hand and you signed page after page, ensuring your music could be sold and would be given proper care and proper copyright laws.

“Last one right here, Y/N,” Bradford encouraged you. Your wrist grew tired but you refused to complain considering how much you wanted this and how long you waited.

“Okay,” you grunted, signing your name sloppily and allowing Bradford to pull all the papers out from under your hold.

“So, what this all ensures from our relationship standpoint is that we are the primary distributor and we will be helping with copyright and making sure you get your money's worth,” he briefs with a chuckle. He straightens out the stack and stands up with a smile on his face.

You follow in suit and stand up at the desk, straightening out your pants, “Thank you so much,” you gush.

“Thank you for thinking to work with us,” Bradford countered, making you shake your head.

“Of course,” you say kindly, “And I appreciate all you’ve done for me these past few weeks. Been a huge help.”

“Oh it was our pleasure, Y/N. You're a wonderful artist. I think we all enjoyed working with your piece.”

You shake Bradfords hand and exchange pleasantries as you exit his office with a smile on your face.

It was the rush of relief that went through your body that helped you realize the gravity of what just happened. Your music has been sold and now has the opportunity to be in music shops, orchestras, and played all across the globe. And that was a great feeling.

It was indescribable, to say the least. It had taken over a year to compose the piece and you had multiple failed attempts prior to this one. The piece you named Domicile was quite literally a love letter to your life.

The piece went through the ups and downs of love. Domestic love, platonic love, romantic love. It was all encompassed in the piece you titled home.

Written from the back of your mind, you had no idea how to articulate how proud of yourself you were. It was self expression and it was beautiful.

Later that evening, Harry arrived at your home as he usually did. He held a small calculator and his laptop in his arm as he abandoned his car in your driveway and made his way up to your door.

He knocked before opening it, knowing you always forget to lock it when you came home from work, and he followed the noise of soft jazz down the hall and into your office.

The paint smell had finally vanished the room and he found you sitting comfortably on the floor with your legs folded beneath you. “Hey, how was your day?” He asks, walking in and sitting across from you on the floor.

“Really fucking good,” you grin, making eye contact with him.

“Care to explain?” he asks with wide eyes and an encouraging smile.

“Yes,” you say dramatically, “I, Y/N Y/L/N, am officially,” you pause for effect.

“Oh come on,” Harry groans in anticipation.

“I am officially a signed artist,” you squeal in excitement.

“No fucking way,” he says softly, “No fucking way!” he yells. “I knew you would oh my goodness! This is amazing! We have to celebrate-” he rambles on.

“Harry!” you exclaim with a giggle, “No need to celebrate this is enough!” you assure.

“No, no, no,” Harry says, “We gotta do something. Even if it’s just a dinner with Mon and I. We gotta.”

“No,” you reiterate firmly.

“Fine,” Harry says, “But you’re coming with me,” he says standing up. He extends his hand out and helps you stand before leading you to your living room.

He gently tugs your arm towards him and he presses his chest up against yours. “Play it on the speaker, love,” he whispers.

“Okay,” you say softly, pulling back and using your phone to play the symphony over your speaker system per Harry’s request.

Harry smiled at you and gently put his hand up to yours, interlocking your fingers and holding you tightly. “Dance with me?” he asks with a cheeky grin.

“Of course, sir,” you tease, stepping into his hold, his arms wrapping around your waist and your hands draped over his shoulders lightly.

“I’m really proud of you,” he whispers, swaying back and forth.

“Thank you so much,” you hum, “Seriously, you helped with so much of it. I really appreciate it.”

Harry ducked his head in a bashful manner, unsure of how to reply to your high praise, “I’d do it again if I had to.”

You shake your head, looking out the window next to you two. The sun was setting and the sky was a painting of oranges and pinks, “God, Harry.”

“What,” he chuckles, following your gaze.

“I cannot believe you’re real,” you whisper, you hand moving to meet his jaw. You graze your thumb over his skin in utter disbelief.

“Harry?” you call out softly. He was zoned out, staring at your profile.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“Can I kiss you?” you breathe out timidly. You don’t know where exactly you got all the courage that consumed your body at that current moment, but you were thankful for it.

Harry swallowed thickly before his eyes met yours, “Yes please,” he whispers back at you.

Your hand that rested on his jaw caressed the skin for a moment before you leaned into his warmth. Your lips met his lightly, you pulling away too quickly for his liking. Harry looked at you once more before leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet yours heavily.

You smile into his mouth, absolute joy coursing through your veins as he kissed you so carefully but so harshly. Your bodies stilled into the kiss, your mouths moving in sync slowly, absorbing every inch of each other.

Harry lets out a small groan as you grind slowly against him, his head threatening to roll back if it weren’t for your hand holding his head still.

His hands moved along your back comfortingly making your body melt into his expertly. You pull away again, Harry looking at you with dimmed eyes, you completely out of breath, “Songs over,” you whisper.

“So restart it,” he replies with a small grin.

Harry ended up seeing the full performance of Midsummer the last night it was performed at the theater. He apologized profusely and insisted he’d see the last of the show if it was the last thing he did, so you let him come and sit right in the front as he wished.

Just as the first time, he sent you smiles of luck before your solo and a few more afterwards to show he was proud of you. Just as you anticipated, he is the best person to cheer you on during a performance.

You knew Harry would be waiting for you in the lobby, so you held off on putting your overcoat on and allowed yourself to step out of the backstage area with your black dress and short heels, your clarinet and jacket in hand.

He held his arm out for you once you became close enough for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and you walked into his hold, “I got something for you,” he tells you.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask with a smile creeping its way onto your lips.

Harry smiles at you before handing you the flowers that sat in his other hand. It was an assortment of long stem red roses, what he read to be the traditional rose to give after a performance.

“Thank you,” you whisper in awe, your eyes meeting his as he looks at you.

Harry hums in response and tugs you closer to his body before leaving a quick peck on your lips and pulling away just as fast as he approached you.

You and Harry were confused to say the least. You had both confirmed you liked each other the night you got signed but you found it difficult for the two of you to label what was going on. Harry wanted it to be exclusive and you wanted to give it a trial run to see how it would work. And though you did give it a trial run, the two of you were yet to discuss what was going on.

You assumed this would be like any other relationship you had been in- after a few months and a handful of dates, you’d consider yourselves partners- but this was vastly different. You have known Harry for a few years now and he has always been a part of your life. So what counted as a date and what was as normal?

Well, tonight constituted a date. Harry had told you before he arrived that he would be taking you out for a nice dinner after your show and to be ready for the best night of your life. You rolled your eyes at his antics and humored him by showing him the outfit you had picked out- the dress you found yourself wearing every Sunday- and a different jacket then you usually wore- this one more flattering for the body.

Harry nodded in approval at this and made his way to the theater, you asking one of your friends to give you a ride so you could go home with Harry later that night.

Now you sat in Harry’s car with his hand resting on your knee, your hand covering his as he drives you both to dinner. He was clad in the same suit he wore the first time he saw you and it subtly matched the black dress and white coat with pleats that you wore next to him.

Harry informed you when you got in the car that he would be taking you to his favorite (fancy) steakhouse in the next city over. Before you could protest her told you it was in celebration of your final performance and being signed, therefore your protests would only further encourage him.

“Will these flowers be alright sitting in the car during dinner?” you ask him.

“Not sure,” he chuckles, looking over at you, “I’ll get you new ones if they aren’t.”

“No!” you’re quick to stop him, “You don’t have to do that.”

“Well what if I want to? You gonna stop me from fulfilling my inner desires?” he asks you teasingly.

You roll your eyes at him and look out the window. The soft sounds of Everywhere by Fleetwood Mac fill the silence as Harry exits the highway and turns into the parking lot of Del Friscos, the steakhouse.

Harry exits the car first, rushing to your door so he can open the door for you. You smile at him as you step out of the car and walk in the building hand in hand.

The restaurant was dimly lit and had high, round booths around the perimeter of the room, tables with pristine white tablecloths among the center. Harry met the host with a small smile and a, “Styles, party of two,” before being led to a corner booth with you in toe.

You smile at Harry as you slide into the booth, your hands making their way to the hem of your dress and tugging on it, “This place is really nice,” you comment your voice laced with insecurity.

“Yup, that’s why we look really nice,” Harry reminds you.

“I feel like this is normal,” you chuckle, “I wear this every Sunday.”

“My girl looks this nice every Sunday and I never knew? Might have to make a pit stop Sunday nights too,” Harry compliments.

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks, “I’d be alright with that.”

Harry smiles at you as a waitress comes over and asks what drinks you’d like.

The dinner was filling and well-made, you found yourself laughing harder than you ever had and eating the best food you’ve had in awhile.

Harry held your hand as you left the steakhouse and he opened the passenger seat door for you, rushing to the other side to turn the heater on for you, “One more stop before I bring ya home,” Harry tells you.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Alright, where?”

“Oh, Y/N, you should know by now that if I don’t tell you it’s a secret!”

“Well it was worth a try,” you shoot him a smile, your hand finding its place in his.

Harry hums in agreement, “Just know if I want you to know, you’ll know.”

You let out a laugh at his stubbornness, “Alright sir,” you say in a posh accent.

Harry lets out an exaggerated hey before saying, “That’s what I sound like when I talk to my boss.

You burst out in laughter and Harry goes on to tell you an embarrassing story from the first time he met his boss.

When Harry’s car reverses into a spot, your eyes shoot up in surprise at your arrival at the hardly-built riverwalk in your town. It was a new location and half the restaurants were still in the process of being built but it was still a nice place to go.

You catch the door before Harry can, you send him a smug smile and take his hand as he tugs you gently towards the ice cream shop he seemed to be eyeing.

The location was dimly lit with blue tinted lights and a few wall sconces that gave a warm orange glow.

“How did you know I wanted to come here?” you asked him finally, coming to a stop and stepping inside the building.

“It’s just about the only thing you’ve talked about for about two months,” Harry teased you with an accusatory finger.

Your lips curve upwards as you exhale a laugh, “Okay, you got me there.”

Harry smirks at you as you look at the menu before you, stepping up to the teen worker who looked far too tired to be awake, “Can I get a scoop of chocolate? And he’ll have,” you point at Harry.

“Uh- I’ll have a scoop of vanilla with graham crumbs please,” Harry gives the worker a cheeky grin and wraps his arm around your waist as you wait for your cones.

You smile in thanks as Harry pays, heading out of the building almost immediately to be met with a gust of wind and a lit up river beside you.

Harry stays by your side as you both walk in silence taking in the scenery, eating your ice cream peacefully. It was a really nice way to spend your evening and you found yourselves enjoying each other's presence more than each other's conversation.

“Okay,” you swallow the last bit of your ice cream, “What’s your dream travel destination?” you ask.

Harry's eyebrows raise in amusement, “What, did you look up first date questions?”

You stifle out a laugh, “Maybe, I didn’t know if it would be awkward.”

Harry lets out an exaggerated, “Ha!” before redirecting you back in the direction of his car, “That’s cute that you care so much.”

“What and you don’t care?” you tease.

“I care just not enough to google first day questions,” he pokes your side playfully.

You laugh out a “Fine!” and redirect the conversation to your performance from earlier that night.

It was a full week apart from Harry and you were excited to reunite with him. Your week had been full with auditions for different parts in the Nutcracker every day so you found yourself unavailable to spend your Monday and Wednesday with Harry, having little to no time to yourself.

Now, the following Sunday, the only thing between Harry and yourself was your front door.

Harry was officially invited to your orchestra’s gala in celebration of completing Midsummer. You both had decided that Harry would arrive promptly two hours before you needed leave and you two would get ready together.

He was lying down on your bed as you leaned over your bathroom counter in an attempt to perfect your eyeliner, “Don’t know why you bother with that,” you hear him grumble.

You let out a chuckle and stood back to decide if it was even enough, “Me neither it’s too fucking hard.”

Harry lets out a snort, “That's what she said.”

You rolled your eyes and looked at him through your mirror, “You sure you’re not fifteen?”

Harry smiles, “You sure The Office is only for fifteen year olds?” he shoots back.

Your face matches his and you lean into the mirror once more to perfect your eyeliner before moving to your closet to change into your dress for the night, prompting Harry to begin getting into his suit as well.

Today, for the nicer event, you wore a nude dress with navy accents towards the bottom and a leg slit Harry thought made you look absolutely ravishing. And, in perfect coordination, Harry wore a navy suit with a white half-buttoned shirt underneath and his favorite red boots that reminded him of an old western movie you’d watched a few months back.

He held your hand as you stepped out of your closet and let out a dramatic “Oh damn!” at first sight before spinning you around so he can get a full idea of your outfit.

You fall into a fit of giggles and collapse into his hold and he sways back and forth, “I really like you,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you reply with a grin, “I like you a lot back.”

“Well how lucky am I?”

“So damn lucky,” you tell him as you let out a silent giggle, “Come on, let's head out.”

The drive to the theater seemed all too short for the both of you. You were sitting in a comfortable silence enjoying each other's company on the way there, stealing a few kisses at a red light or a longing glance while Harry was concentrating on changing lanes during rush hour.

When you arrived at the hotel the gala was held at, you both found your way inside and to the tables that were set up with your names on small place cards. You both sat there in soft chatter as you awaited the arrival of your friends who were to sit at the same table.

Eventually, you were met with a crowd of people around your table and your voices raised in volume and excitement. It was merely 8:00 when your ears were greeted by the sound of a disconnected microphone.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Jordan Pennington, the conductor of the Midsummer Night’s Dream orchestra performance and I’m here to recognize each performer for their outstanding work over the course of these past months,” his voice cut through the room like glass.

Jordan then went on to state each performer and his favorite memory with them through the course of the orchestral production.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” Jordan introduced, an image of you as a baby and you now making their way onto the screen behind him, “Y/N is a strong clarinetist we are blessed to have in our group. She works very hard in the theater and outside and has recently been signed as a composer so I’m hoping I’ll be conducting her work soon,” he paused as people congratulated you. You didn’t publicize your signing, so a lot of people were in shock and impressed.

“She’s been with us for a while so we have a few good memories with her at this theater but I think everybody's favorite is just about any time Y/N brings lunch,” he pauses as everyone starts laughing. You bury your face in your hands as Harry looks at you with a confused smile.

“When Y/N brings lunch she without fail trips on one of the steps and spills something,” Jordan informs. You let out an exaggerated groan, eliciting more laughter and Harry covers his mouth in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Can we move on?” you call out.

Jordan lets out a laugh and obliges, moving onto the next person on his list.

You glance at Harry who is taking a sip of wine and you raise your eyebrows at him, making him nearly spit out his drink, “Sorry, love,” he coughs out, bringing you in for a hug, “Just sounds so much like you it’s impossible,” he tells you.

You roll your eyes at him and continue to listen as Jordan goes through the rest of your orchestra.

When he finishes, your food is devoured and the middle of the room is opened to allow people to dance. You glance at Harry and take his hand, reminding him of the night you first kissed, “Come on,” you mutter.

He allows you to take him to the center of the room where some of your colleagues have begun to conglomerate and dance slowly to the tune of Ed Sheeran’s Thinking Out Loud, you two joining in the mass.

Unlike last time, you knew exactly how to act, your arms immediately finding a home around his shoulders and pulling him close so your flesh is against his.

Harry smiled at this and squeezed you at the waist as a silent way of saying I love you, his head leaning in towards yours and your foreheads resting against each other.

“How is it that we always end up dancing?” he asks you.

“Not sure, I was never good at it either but here I am,” you chuckle a reply.

Harry’s eyes shoot up in disbelief, “There is no way you weren’t a good dancer.”

“Swear on it,” you say, your lips tugging upwards to make a smile.

“No. I refuse to believe that, you’re so good,” he says, his eyes shooting down to your feet and then back up to your eyes making you giggle.

“Nope,” you say confidently, “Just found you and you were good. By association I’m good.”

“So what you’re saying is you found the right partner?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You fall into a full belly laugh at his antics before agreeing, “I found the right partner.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shots #harry styles oneshots #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic

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annab-nana · 3 years

Text

Birthday Buddies - Colby Brock

You and Sam share the same birthday and Colby conjures up a plan for the party to be perfect for the both of you.

Requested by @sam-xplr-colby 💙

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 1.8k+

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November 27th, the big day. It was your birthday, and it was Sam’s too. Colby’s two favorite people were born on the same day and he made sure to make it special for both of you each year. He would throw the best party that had both of your interests tied together for the theme and they were always the best. Right now, he and the gang were decorating the trap house for the event of the double birthday and you and Sam were wandering aimlessly around the mall.

“What do you think he’s doing this year?” you asked the blond before taking a sip of the coffee you had gotten earlier.

“With Colby, there is no telling what he’s got planned,” he snickered down at you. He watched as your mouth dropped open in surprise and you let out an excited shriek. Sam’s eyebrows drew together before he followed your line of sight to see what had gotten you so excited only to see it was the Disney store.

“Look at the little baby Yoda plushie, Sam!” you squealed as you grabbed his hand to drag him towards the shop. He about tripped over his own two feet, but thankfully he made it there safely. “It’s adorable!”

“He is a cute little fella,” Sam agreed as you two awed at the tiny green Jedi master through the display window. “Wanna go inside? We have a lot of time to waste.”

“Sure,” you nodded your head at the blond and followed him into the store. After a few hours of walking around the mall slipping in and out of shops, you two went to the krac house to get ready.

“It’s cute how you guys do this every year,” Cassie muttered softly as she remained focused on blending together the colors of your eyeshadow.

“Do what?” you inquired. You had slipped into the routine, barely even noticing that it was a common reoccurrence.

“How Colby and Kat decorate the house and throw a party to some theme that Colby has been planning for months and while they do that, you and Sam get to hang out all day and celebrate each other’s birthdays. You can’t tell me that isn’t adorable,” she lightly giggled as a small smile tugged at your lips. It was kind of a cute idea. The love of your life and best friend throw a whole party for you and your other best friend while you two get to have fun.

“Yeah, and it’s nice to hang out with just Sam. I almost never get to because Colby is normally there or Jake or Corey too. He’s a pretty cool guy when it’s just him,” you told her while she dusted off the setting powder that rested below your eyes.

“Yeah, the only person who really gets a good bit of alone time with Sam is…” she started.

“Colby,” you two chorused before giggles flew from your mouths.

“Okay, you’re all done, birthday girl,” Cassie announced before letting you look at yourself in the mirror.

“Damn, Cassie! This looks good,” you complimented as you stared in awe at your own reflection.

“That’s all you, y/n,” she grinned at you through the mirror while she spoke.

“Stop, you are the sweetest. I love you, Cass. Thanks,” you told her before pulling her into your embrace. Her laugh sounded in your ear as she hugged you back, but she soon pulled away.

“Now, let’s get you dressed,” she stated excitedly which caused you to groan. You loved getting your makeup done. It was super therapeutic for you but realizing that you were going to be dressed up all night was not something you were looking forward to. “Stop whining. Colby will love it.”

And love it he did.

“Y/n, baby, you look amazing!” Colby told you as he took your hand in his and spun you around before pulling you close. “Happy birthday, love,” he muttered before pressing his lips to yours. Your moment with him was cut short by the clearing of someone’s throat nearby.

“As cute as this is, can we go in? I really wanna see what it looks like in there,” Sam stated, his words followed by a grin. You pulled away from Colby a bit and let your hand slide down his arm and into his hand, your fingers intertwining with his.

“I wanna see inside too,” you giggled as you looked at the front door of the house you knew all too well.

“Right this way,” Colby joked as he ushered you and Sam towards the door.

“Are you ready, birthday girl?” Sam asked as he stuck his arm out for you to grab. You giggled before linking your arm with his.

“Yep, birthday boy.” Sam turned the knob and pushed the door open to reveal where all your friends stood, cheering and recording the moment to save.

“Happy birthday guys!” they shouted in unison as white, green, blue, and orange balloons and confetti were thrown in the air above you and Sam. You turned into the blond to help shield yourself from the falling pieces of paper and glitter as you both laughed to each other.

Once it had all fallen on top of you two, you both pulled away from each other to look around. You noticed the balloons that were on the ground. The white ones had storm troopers on them, the green had Yoda, the blue was R2-D2, and the orange ones had BB-8 printed on the latex.

“It’s Star Wars themed,” Sam grinned at you. You nodded your head eagerly before turning to Colby who stood behind you both with a sheepish grin on his face. Your feet moved quickly to him and you wrapped your arms around him.

“It’s perfect, babe. I love it,” you muttered in his ear before pulling away to press your lips to his. After the kiss, you backed away so Sam could talk to him and as they spoke, you ran to Katrina.

“You did so good at decorating because I know Colby couldn’t do all this, so thank you Kat!” you said as you pulled away from her embrace.

“Yeah, he can’t decorate, but the idea was all his and it was honestly his best idea ever. You both are Star Wars nerds,” she teased to which you playfully shoved her away.

“Wait until you see the cake. Sam, come here!” Kat squealed before Sam and Colby turned their heads towards her and followed you two to the kitchen.

“Oh, I love it!” you awed at the decorated dessert. The bottom two layers were BB-8, and it had a baby Yoda on top. “It’s adorable!”

“Looks sick guys,” Sam added from behind you and Kat.

“You did amazing, Colby, with everything,” you praised the purple-haired love of yours as your eyes looked around the kitchen at all the decorations. Your lips met his quickly in a small thank you kiss as his arms slid behind your waist and clasped together at the small of your back.

“Yeah, thanks man,” Sam stated as he nodded at Colby, his arms wrapped around his own girlfriend, “and thank you too, baby.” As soon as the words left his lips, he pressed them to Katrina’s in a heartbeat.

“Well, isn’t it just a love fest in here,” Reggie joked when he entered to room, noticing how close and wrapped up the two couples were.

“Ewwww,” Jake dragged out the word when he caught sight of what his older brother was talking about.

“Oh, shut up, Jake. I’ve seen you and Tara and y’all can be plenty affectionate,” you scolded the childlike boy who showed you his dimpled smile.

“I’ve almost walked in on them being hella in love if you know what I mean,” Corey popped into the conversation, causing laughter to fill the room.

“Let’s get this party started!” Tara shouted when she walked in with a plastic kazoo placed between her plump lips before blowing into the instrument.

“Kazoos?” you asked Colby when you turned to face him.

“That was actually Kat’s idea,” he informed you before your eyes met hers.

“What? I thought it’d be fun,” she shrugged innocently as she giggled against Sam’s chest.

“You must’ve forgotten we’re friends with them,” you joked, pointing towards Tara, Jake, and Corey who were having a contest to see who the loudest kazoo player could be. Well, Jake and Corey were in each other’s faces playing loudly while Tara stood between them playing her own rendition of a Harry Styles song on her kazoo.

“Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea,” Kat admitted while she watched the competition go down across the counter.

“As long as they’re having fun, then what’s the harm,” you spoke as a chuckle fell past your glossed lips.

“I love you, you know that, right?” Colby whispered in your ear before your attention was turned back towards him. The corners of your lips turned upwards in a grin as you nodded at the boy.

“How could I not know that? Look around. Someone does not do all this for someone he kinda likes. You did it for two people you love, and we love you too. I love you so much, Colbs.” He could not resist kissing you again, the combination of love radiating between the two of you and with how well Cassie had dressed you making you completely irresistible in his sapphire eyes.

“Come upstairs. I want to show you what I got you,” he mumbled as he slipped his hand in yours and led you up the flight of stairs. “It’s on the bed.”

“Are you serious, Colby? Sam and I saw this earlier! Did he tell you I was in love with it?” you asked in shock when your eyes fell upon the baby Yoda plushie sitting between the dark pillows.

“No, I got this a while ago,” he told you when you picked up the soft stuffed toy, cradling it in your arms.

“This is perfect. All of it is perfect,” you muttered as tears brimmed your eyes at how happy you were in that very moment.

“You’re perfect,” Colby commented before pulling you closer to him. You dropped the plush toy on the bed as your arms found their place around his neck. Your lips connected once again that night since it seemed the two of you could not get enough of each other. The kiss deepened when you slipped your tongue in after tugging lightly at his hair.

“There’s a party going on downstairs just for you,” Colby reminded you before rejoining his lips with yours.

“I’m sure they won’t miss us for a little bit and anyway it’s Sam’s birthday too so they can celebrate him until we get back down there.”

“Sounds like a plan, princess.”

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tag list: @curlyhairedbrock

to be added to the tag list, fill out the form in my masterlist or you can find it in my bio

#colby #cole robert brock #colby brock #colby imagine #colby x reader #colby fanfic #colby fanfiction #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #Sam and Colby #traphousedaily

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jeannereames · 3 years

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This is probably a very stupid question, but how did the Ancient Greeks measure time (in terms of years and months) ? What was their calendar like? What year would Alexander have viewed himself to be living in?

I love these sorts of daily-life details, so I may have got a little carried away…. Before I get into the weeds, however, I want to make everyone aware of a reference resource:

E. J. Bickerman, Chronology of the Ancient World. Thames & Hudson, 1968.

Yeah, it’s old now, but Bickerman spent most of his career on dating puzzles, and I don’t think there’s anything recent to match it. When I first was told about it years ago in my historiography class, I practically bounced off the walls. (My fellow grad students thought I’d lost my mind.)

I’m not sure of the best way to address this query—topically or geographically—but I’ll go with topically. I’ll also say upfront that I’m unfamiliar with Egypt, so they’re not much mentioned. Also, if you want more details on any particular system (Roman, Athenian, Babylonian, Jewish), there are plenty of online resources.

Long-count Calendar

How to number years across a span? Regnal years was most common in antiquity: year 1, year 2, year 3 of ___ king. Also, king lists detailed how long ___ ruled. The Ancient Near East (ANE) excelled at chronologies; we have some that go back to Sumer. That’s pre-Bronze Age. The span of some reigns can be deeply problematic (e.g., mythical), but we have the lists. Fun note, Neo-Assyrians named years by its major military campaign. Tells us a lot about them, no?

What about places without kings? Greece, Rome, Carthage?

The Greeks had several systems, internal and panhellenic. Internal systems often dated by the name of a prominent city magistrate. In Athens, that was the eponymous archon, in Sparta, the eponymous ephor, etc. The panhellenic system used Olympic years. In Dancing with the Lion, if you look at date plates before sections, that’s what I used. It’s a 4-year system, so, “In the year of the 97th Olympiad,” “In the first year of the 97th Olympiad,” “In the second year…,” and “In the third year…,” then we’re to “In the year of the 98th Olympiad…” In modern annotation it’s Ol. 97.1, Ol. 97.2, Ol. 97.3, Ol. 97.4. From (our year) 776 BCE down into the Roman Imperial era, the Olympics made useful anchor dating for the eastern Mediterranean (Magna Graecia).

Rome had its own system: two in fact. It counted years by both consuls, but also AUC = ab urba condita … “from the founding of the city.” Carthage used a similar system involving their two senior Judges for their senate.

When it came to “world histories,” authors such as Diodoros Siculus used several systems: Olympiad, Athenian archon, and Roman consuls. It gets a bit unwieldy, but is about as universal as we have for the Med until Christianity took over everything.

Yearly Calendars

Much of the ancient world used lunar (354 days), not solar (356 days) calendars. Yes, they knew a lunar year didn’t line up with the solar, and they used “intercalation” to fix it, avoiding summer festivals being celebrated in winter. Either a 13th month was needed every 3 years, or they added a few days to months here and there, making a “lunisolar” calendar. We have an intercalated day in our own calendar: Feb. 29th in Leap Year. To fix a calendar, however, an “anchor” is needed. This anchor is usually a solstice or equinox, which may (or may not) correspond to their New Year.

Our modern (Western) world places New Year’s in the dead of winter. But many pre-modern calendars put it in spring. Makes sense: life renews, it’s a new year. The Babylonian New Year was decided by the spring equinox—first new moon after—which pattern affected most of the ANE.

The Hebrew New Year (Rosh Hashana) is in autumn, but their first month (Nisan) is in spring. (They also have a New Year for Trees! Tú bish'vat. How cool is that?) Wanna know when your Jewish friends are having a holiday? Use Hebcal, the gold standard.

MANY ancient cultures have more than one calendar running at a time. So do we. Working in the uni, I have the “normal” year, but also the “academic” year to keep up with.

Despite the dominance of certain early systems like Babylon, counting the new year was specific to a region and people, and their religious traditions. No single Greek new year tradition existed. Both Delos and Athens used the first new moon after the summer equinox: early July. The Macedonian calendar seems to as well, so Alexander was born in the first month of the year. Other city states were different. I’ve forgotten most but do remember Sparta’s is in autumn because their new year almost falls on my birthday.

Remember, although we today talk about “ancient Greece” as if it were a country—it wasn’t. There was a landmass called Hellas, but each city-state was independent, and had its own laws, gov’t, coinage, and religious cult. Too often “Greek” winds up being conflated with “Athenian,” because we happen to have the most evidence from ancient Athens. But both Athens and Sparta were weirdos. Corinth, Thebes, Argos, Mytilene, Cos, Eretria, Miletus…all were a lot more typically Greek in their gov’t systems, etc. There were also 3 (or 4) different branches of Greek: Ionic-Attic, Doric, and Aeolic. When we talk about reading the “ancient Greek” language today, most people mean Attic Greek, or even Koine Greek (Hellenistic era common Greek).

That means every city-state had its own calendar, connected to its own festivals.

In fact, most city-states had several: sacred, civic, etc. Athens had a 12-month lunar calendar for festivals, but a 10-month civic calendar corresponding to the 10 tribes for Assembly business. Originally, they had only 4 tribes, not 10, so political changes meant calendar changes.

In each city-state, month names were derived from the major festival for that month. We have the complete month names for only a few: Athens is one and (fortunately for me) Macedon is another (specifically Ptolemaic, but it’s likely the same as the Argead). Below “Ancient Greek Month” REALLY means “Athenian month,” which annoys the hell out of those of us who don’t consider Athens the be-all and end-all of Greek history!

Because their months were lunar, they bisect our months, e.g., July/Aug = Athenian Hekatombian or Macedonian Loos [Alexander’s birthmonth], Jan/Feb = Athenian Gamelion or Macedonian Peritios [probably the month that gave Alexander’s favorite hound his name: Peritos]. Likewise, as the Athenian new year began in midsummer, dating ancient events also bisects. You’ll see 342/1 to designate the year from July of 342 BCE to June of 341.

As mentioned, most places used lunar months as the most basic time-keeping, but the moon isn’t the only way to make a “month.” Rome originally had 10 months of 30/31 days, adding 2 later, which is why our 12 months have Romanesque names.

Just remember: NO UNIVERSAL SYSTEM for months.

What About Weeks?

A seven-day week is borrowed from the Jews via Christianity. Both Jews and Egyptians had a dedicated day of rest. (For Egypt, the 10th day.) In most places, however, days off were festival related. Every month had festivals, which might last from half a day to several days in a row. You worked…took off for a festival…then you worked. No regular day of rest. (For the modern weekend? Thank unions and the Labor Movement!)

How did others subdivide a month? Athenian months were c. 30 days, divided into 10s: 1-10, 11-20, 10-1. Yup, the last is backwards. But dating also counted waxing and waning moons. So the new moon began a month, the 7th of the month would be the 7th waxing moon, the 24th the 6th waning moon. This is the Athenian system. Other city-states are less clear, but probably similar.

Romans had kalens (1st), nones (7th), and ides (15th). Nundinae (market days) means 9th, but were really the 8th day. The 7-day week is late Imperial and, again, owes to Christian take-over of Jewish weeks.

Most systems had “auspicious” and “inauspicious” days for religious activities, civic activities, and business activities. Don’t start anything on an inauspicious day! (These were manipulated, especially in Rome, but that’s a whole different discussion.) The closest modern equivalent I can think of is Mercury Retrograde. 😊 Although in modern Greece, signing a contract on a Tuesday morning is bad juju, or May 29th. Constantinople fell on a Tuesday morning May 29th, 1453. We might, in America, consider 9/11. Who wants to open a business on 9/11?

The Horai (The Hours)

When did the day begin? Again, the ANE and Med are different. In the ANE, day typically began at sunset. So yes, that’s why the Jewish shabbat starts at sunset on Friday and lasts till sunset on Saturday. (If you didn’t know, the Jewish “day of rest” isn’t Sunday, but Saturday.)

For Greece and Rome, et al., day began at dawn. Each day was then evenly divided between day and night, so there was no standard length of an hour. It depended on the time of year. Each half had twelve hours, subdivided into 4 groups of triads. Originally in Greece it seems there were only 9, not twelve, but they increased to match the lunar months. The division of 4 groups of triads also yielded the 4 seasons of 3 months each. Hora was initially a season, not an hour.

In any case, dawn was always the first hour, noon the 6th, sunset the 12th. Same deal for night (twilight, midnight, pre-dawn).

This is great for military and civic purposes, but most people tended to refer to daytime divisions more generally: dawn, midday, etc. And there was nothing like minutes or seconds. That’s totally modern. Closest, they might come would be to count “breaths.”

The gnomon (sundial) was the chief way to measure hours, as it matched longer or shorter days. But it’s kinda hard to use a sundial at night, or on a cloudy day, or inside. Night hours were approximate.

The water clock (klepsudra) was first popularized in Greece in courts and the Assembly (to time speeches), but spread to other use, for inside or on shady days. Yet water clocks are unwieldy to carry around.

The Romans did have portable sundials (below), but again…needs the SUN. Btw, I should add that sundials aren’t only a Greco-Roman thing. The Chinese had them too. By contrast, the sand-clock or hourglass is a medieval invention. Won’t find them in the ancient world.

#time-keeping #calendars #time in the ancient world #months in the ancient world #ancient Greece #ancient Rome #ancient near east #Jewish calendars #sundials #the Horae #The Hours #Classics #ancient history #ancient Mediterranean history #asks

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pixiebuggiewrites · 3 years

Text

Sorry Wrong Number!

Description: When Damian Wayne receives a mysterious text message he's not sure what to make of it. Little did he know that it would lead him down a rabbit hole of information regarding a villain in Paris and a superhero team led by a girl in red and black spots.

Meanwhile, the Miraculous team is struggling. they're down a member and there's seems to be a new peacock in town. The teams only hope is to reach out for help-leading to new alliances, friendships, and romance.

This is my first real fanfic so any constructive criticism is appreciated!! Just keep it friendly please

Masterpost - Next - Ao3 link

Chapter 1: Marinette’s bad day

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was no stranger to bad days. In fact, over the past two years she had become well acquainted with them.

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Two years ago If you told her that Lila Rossi would somehow actually manage to take almost everything away from the then 14 year old designer she probably wouldn't have believed you. She had faith in her friends which, looking back was a pretty big mistake. She was less than surprised when most of her classmates began freezing her out. It stung but it’s not like they ever really helped her during Chloe’s original reign of terror so in a sense nothing really changed except for the person behind the pain.

What did surprise her-and perhaps stung the most-was that her closest friends left her as well. Alya had been enamored by stories of celebrities and quick to end their friendship when Lila cried about all of the terrible things Marinette had done and said to the transfer student. Nino remained mostly neutral but was dating Alya so it wasn’t exactly easy to hang out like they used to.

And Adrien? What a bullet she dodged there.

The sweet boy who gave her an umbrella and became her first real crush had proven himself to be way too passive. His many speeches about the high road and how nobody was being hurt had chipped away at that crush until there was barely a spark left.

A spark that was finally put out when she discovered that he was her (now former) superhero partner.

Luckily the young heroine wasn't completely alone. While she hadn't told them the full story with the Lila situation lest either of them get akumatized her parents still had a sixth sense for when she was low on fumes and would always find a way to brighten her day. Her Uncle Jagged and Aunt Penny were still there too, having become part of her family in all but blood and name. It had come as quite a shock the first time she came downstairs for family game night and saw the two of them sipping hot-cocoa and exchanging stories with her parents as Fang slept on the floor, But it had slowly become a regular occurrence in the Dupain-Cheng household for them to drop by whenever they had the time.

She had made new friends too. Her and Luka grew closer and even dated for a couple months before realizing that their melodies worked better platonically, becoming best friends ever since. The two would regularly have ‘creativity sessions’ where Luka would test out his newest songs as Mari worked on her designs.

Her and Kagami had also grown closer once they both realized that their blossoming friendship was more valuable than a battle over a boy that they both had kinda grown out of their feelings for. They had started meeting once a week to enjoy some orange juice and fence and it had just evolved from there, Marinette had even been the first person Kagami came out to as gay. Kagami was also the first person she decided to share her identity as a superhero with. Luka had already known-a result of his second akuma as Viperion-but it felt different to make an active decision to share that part of her life with someone.

The most surprising addition to her friend group though, was one Chloe Bourgeois. Marinette wasn't really sure what to expect when the blonde had asked her to talk after school one day, but it certainly was not an apology. Chloe had explained that she had been in therapy for the past few months trying to better herself, and that seeing how Lila was really drove the point home for her in accepting how wrong her previous actions had been. Their friendship was rocky at first, as that much history doesn’t just disappear overnight, but it had slowly grown as the heiress proved over time how she really had changed. Sitting next to each other in class had led to them passing notes which led to them grabbing lunch together sometimes which somehow, eventually, led to the two becoming pseudo-sisters. She had been the third person to find out she was Ladybug, when one day she swung into her room mid-transformation only to realize that Chloe had shown up early for their sleepover that night.

At some point in all of this, her three friends also became friends with each other, forming a close knit group. Their varied personalities all seemed to balance each other out, which made them the perfect team in more ways than one.

Which is why she decided to make them all permanent Miraculous holders.

Shortly after her 16th birthday, Master Fu asked her to take over as guardian of the Miracle box. He wasn't getting any younger and had managed to find a way to preserve his memories after passing on guardianship, so that he could still help should the need ever arise. Marinette was apprehensive but she had technically finished all of her training and she wanted Fu to have a chance at a nice retirement so she said yes.

The next day, just hours after she wished her teacher safe travels she made a very important decision. A decision to revoke Chat Noir’s ring.

You see, as Guardian it's kind of important to know who holds the magical pieces of jewelry that are your job to protect. Therefore Fu made the ever wise decision to tell her before promptly riding off into the sunset.

To say that Marinette was upset at the atomic bomb dropped on her was a bit of an understatement. She actually made the executive decision to have Kaalki portal her out of Paris just so that she could mentally unpack everything without risking an akuma. She stared up at the sky from the field she had landed in for what felt like hours and eventually came to accept a few things that she’d honestly been feeling for awhile.

Like the fact that sacrificing himself every other battle wasn't actually that heroic, especially when most of the hits he took for her she would have dodged anyways. Or the fact that he would act out whenever she asked him to take things more seriously by showing up late to akumas and threatening to quit. She had been considering talking to Fu about his behavior for awhile but was always stopped by the fact that they had been fighting together since day one, she wanted to believe in her kitty but finding out he was Adrien had been the last straw.

As Adrien, he had remained passive in the face of injustice many times. He had rarely if ever taken any real action in stopping Chloe’s behavior and he seemed to be taking the same approach with Lila. She understood that Gabriel definitely was partly to blame for his skewed worldview, but Adrien had been going to public school for 4 years now. He had been present for multiple mental health awareness assemblies and they had even appeared together as Ladybug and Chat in an anti-bullying PSA a couple years ago. It honestly baffled her that he still truly believed that the high road method could work.

Simply put, she just couldn't trust him to act as a hero anymore. She made a plan, but for it to work she needed help.

Well she had been planning to expand team Miraculous anyways, but this gave her the perfect chance to set those plans into motion. Marinette needed people she could work well with and she just happened to know three people who would make perfect teammates. Luka had already been appearing as Viperion more as Chat showed up to less fights, so the only real change was that Sass would get to go home with him at the end of the day. Chloe had been a bit harder seeing as all of Paris knew she had been Queen Bee, but Marinette was nothing if not determined. After a couple of weeks of her working with Chloe and Pollen on a new suit design, Abeille Royale was born. The finishing touch was Chloe and the new hero to be spotted near each other in public with some assistance from Trixx and they were good to go. Which just left Kagami.

Her original plan had been similar for the one she had for Chloe, but then she remembered something. To preserve balance the Miraculous of destruction needed to remain active, which meant she needed a new black cat. Now she could have jumped in front of oncoming traffic to see who saved her, but she was not willing to test her luck that much even with the boost Tikki gave her. This meant she needed to pick someone she already trusted. She didn't see a Chloe/Plagg team up going well for anyone involved so that was gonna be a hard no. Luka would have possibly worked, but the power of the snake was just too valuable of an asset to take off the roster. But Kagami? Now that would work.

While it was true that Kagami was much more well suited for the dragon, she would still work well as the black cat. She enjoyed a bit of chaos, but was disciplined enough to not be dragged into any of Plagg’s crazier ideas. She also understood the responsibility of holding such a powerful item, not one to take such a duty lightly. After talking with her about it Kagami had accepted the position becoming Kuro Neko.

After that they just had to get the ring back which was surprisingly easy. As Chat didn't know that she had given out more Miraculous again, she just had to wait for him to show up to a patrol. She played distraction and Abeille snuck up behind him with a venom, freezing him as she took back the ring. Finally, she cast a spell that would prevent him from sharing anything about him being Chat Noir as a safety measure. While he may not have as much knowledge about the miraculous as her, he did have some information and she was not going to risk letting Hawkmoth get his hands on any of it. And with that problem solved she finally had her team.

And from there things got a bit easier, with an actual team helping her and the seeming disappearance of Mayura akuma fights began to end way quicker and it felt like they were slowly making progress towards finding Hawkmoth.

But when can things ever stay that nice?

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Again, Marinette was no stranger to bad days but coupled with the week she had been having so far her patience was wearing thin.

Earlier that week, Chloe had shown up to the bakery in near tears. After calming down she shared the news that her Mother was going back to the states on Thursday, which while a bummer wasn't the issue. The issue was that she was bringing Chloe with her. While the blonde was happy to be getting time with her Mom, she didn’t want to abandon her team. Marinette assured her that while she wouldn't be able to be on the front lines anymore, she didn't have to quit the team. Seeing as the young heiress was scarily organised (perhaps even more than Marinette) She could continue to remotely assemble case files on each akuma and keeping tabs on any possible leads to Hawkmoth's identity. In addition, the city Chloe was moving to seemed to have heroes with ties to the justice league so they could finally try to get help again since they never responded to the video messages Ladybug sent at the beginning of her hero career. She had no idea how news of the akumas never made it out of France, but she suspected it was a mix of magic and corrupt officials. The plan was to have Abeille track down the heroes and explain the situation, with Ladybug teleporting in if necessary, and to establish a line of communication between them while requesting assistance.

From there the rest of the week was spent with the four friends enjoying as much time as possible together before their bee had to fly an ocean away. Kagami and Chloe also finally admitted their feelings for each other and while long distance isn't easy, they were going to try and make it work. And if Marinette lent out Kaalki every once in awhile? Well nobody had to know. If anything it was her duty as future maid of honor.

But still Thursday came and tears were shed as Chloe got ready to board her private jet. As hard as it was they stayed and watched as she took off, before all heading back to their respective homes.

Which brings us to today, the first day of school Marinette would have to endure without Chloe.

The day started off well enough, She woke up on her first alarm for once which gave her plenty of time to do some morning meditation before getting ready and heading down to the bakery and grabbing breakfast. She enjoyed a small croissant and some fruit while catching up her parents and helping out here and there before heading out to school.

Which is when her day began to sour.

First she ‘tripped’ over somebody's foot while heading up the front stairs. Then in English, it was announced that they would have a partner assignment and she was paired with Alya, her former best friend who now hates her guts. At least it wasn't Lila. Alya tried to get switched on the grounds of ‘not wanting to work with a bully’ but partner assignments were final so the red haired girl settled for glaring at her throughout the class leading up to their lunch hour.

Things didn't get much better after lunch either. She came back to class early to avoid bumping into Lila’s group in the courtyard only to come face to face with the liar minutes later when the girl came to the back of the class and ‘spilled’ her iced coffee on the designer’s sketchbook. On the bright side, Marinette only ever brought a travel book with her to school after the first time this kind of thing happened. It was still annoying to clean up though.

After that, the rest of the school day went by mostly without incident. There were a couple of little jabs from her former friends here and there but nothing she wasn't already used to.

Eventually the final bell rang and she breathed a sigh of relief. She had a new bath bomb waiting for her at home and she was excited to use it. But first she had to get out of school without having to interact any further with her classmates, which turned out to be easier said than done.

Adrien decided to invite himself to walk her home, which meant she was due for another speech about the high road. She honestly wasn't even sure what she did this time and she didn’t really care to find out.

These talks had become such a regular occurrence that she tended to just kind of zone him out as he followed her home. It was kind of impressive that his bodyguard never came for him, maybe Gabriel gave in and loosened the leash after Nathalie quit? She was a bit surprised he still hadn’t found a replacement considering it must be quite difficult to run such a large company when you never leave your house but she supposed that's what technology is for.

Eventually, they reached the bakery and the bluenette was free at last. She even took the side entrance that led directly into the apartment stairs so that Adrien couldn't follow her in. She may have been a little petty in closing the door a bit harder than necessary, but she didn't really have the energy to care at that point.

The rest of her evening went by in relative peace. She had already caught up on homework over lunch and it was a slow time of year for commissions, so she helped out in the bakery until after dinner.

After telling her parents good night, she went to go enjoy her bath. Just as she went to go unwrap her fancy bath bomb, her room began to shake, causing the bath bomb to fall from her hands and shatter on the floor. Before she could even process the poor cherry-blossom scented bombs fate, the akuma alarm sounded. While that explained her room shaking, having to fight hawkmoths fashion disaster of choice really wasn’t how she wanted to end her already crappy day. Nevertheless, she walked back into her bedroom, slightly grateful that she hadn't actually gotten in the bathtub yet, and called for Tikki.

Tikki, who was already waiting after hearing the akuma alarm flew over and gave her the rundown on what had been in the alert.

“It seems to be a new akuma, powers are unknown but they're headed for the Eiffel tower, Kuro Neko and Viperion are already on the scene since it was their night for patrol anyways.” the small Kwami informed her.

Marinette sighed in resignation. New akumas were always a bit of a pain. Not knowing the enemies powers and weaknesses was dangerous, not to mention it made the battle drag out a good bit longer than one against a repeat. Her work wasn't over after the battle though. The next day she would need to assemble all of the information regarding the battle, track down and conduct an interview with the victim about what led up to their possession, and send it all over to Chloe so that she can assemble a case file.

Accepting the fact that she likely was not going to get much sleep that night, The heroine got into fight mode.

“Tikki spots on!”

And with that, she swung off into the night.

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Well well well look who finally got around to cross-posting this asdfg, anyways I hope you enjoyed chapter 1!! I have 5 chapters up on ao3 at the moment so I’ll probably post one a day here until I'm caught up so that I'm not spamming the tag on accident.

Oh also!! I'm not really sure how tag lists work but I will try my best to figure it out so if you wanna be included in that just reply and say so.

#maribat #daminette #maridami #ml x dc #sorry wrong number #buggiewrites

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 9

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None (just that I nearly cried writing this, so yeah...)

Wordcount: 4.6k

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

It’s Sunday, November 12th and that means exactly seven years have passed since Vanessa was born. Seven whole years have flown by and I can’t believe my little girl is already seven. I crouch down in front of the picture that stands on the coffee table and I see every single day, but today it has such a different meaning and it nearly makes me want to cry.

Vanessa just turned one on this picture and we are eating the icing of the cake. She only fell face first into the cake and her face is smudged with icing and I’m dying of laughter in the picture.

‘So, all the presents are on the table,’ Henry says. ‘Do you want me to start on the pancakes?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ I say, though I barely registered what he said and with the picture in my hand, I stand up as I stare at the picture.

Henry’s arms snake around my waist and he gives me a kiss on my temple. ‘Are you okay?’

I shrug. ‘It’s just hard to believe that she turns seven already,’ I admit. ‘It seemed like yesterday that I found out I was pregnant with her, that she was born and scared the living shit out of me multiple times, making me completely doubt my parental skills. She shoved a bead up her nose, she fell out of her high chair and had a small concussion and even broke her leg when she fell down the stairs. Besides those accidents, she somehow still grew up to be the girl she is today.’

Henry chuckles. ‘That’s what little girls do, love. They grow up.’

I nod. ‘I know, I know and I want her to grow up, but… I feel like I’m not enjoying each moment enough and I blink with my eyes and she’ll turn sixteen.’

‘I know you are enjoying each moment enough.’

Since Vanessa came home from that sleepover, she really likes it when Henry sleeps over, so we can all cram up in my bed. Kal’s blanket has moved from the couch with us to my bedroom, so he can be there with us too. Sometimes Vanessa secretly ushers him on the bed, when she thinks Henry and I are already asleep. When we wake up the next morning, Henry tells me that we should buy a bigger bed.

Every single time.

‘Shall I start with the pancakes, love?’ Henry asks.

‘Yes, thank you.’

He nods, burying his face in the crook of my neck and pressing tons of kisses there. ‘I love you and I’m happy that we can spend this day together.’

‘Of course,’ I say, as we walk to the kitchen. ‘Why wouldn’t we want to spend it with you, honey?’

‘Well, for six years it has just been the two of you,’ he says, as he grabs the bowl filled with the batter that he already preparedy. He stirs a few times, before he adds: ‘And now I can be part of that too. I mean, we’re going to my parents in the afternoon to celebrate her birthday. It’s still surreal that you want me here, to be honest.’

I can’t help but chuckle and wrap my arms around his hips. ‘Henry, you are part of our little family now,’ I whisper. ‘Get yourself ready, because we are going to spend Christmas together, New Years Eve and all the other good stuff.’

He bites his lip and says: ‘Thank you, Olivia.’

I let him bake the pancakes, but I can’t help but be curious. ‘You really want us to meet your brothers today?’

He nods. ‘I talked to them, all four of them individually and the other day when we were at my parents and told them how they should behave. They can embarrass me, but they have to be nice to the two of you. I don’t want them to scare you away.’ He puts some butter in the pan and as that melts, he continues by saying: ‘They all bought a gift off of the list that Vanessa gave you, so that must go well.’

‘Are you nervous, Henry?’ I ask him. ‘For us meeting your brothers?’

‘Is it that obvious?’ he laughs and I can’t help but let out a chuckle. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I brought home girlfriends before, you know and they were always really nice to them, but they embarrassed the living daylights out of me, probably scaring the girlfriends a bit in the process. But I don’t want that to happen today.’

‘I think your parents will be on the look out too,’ I chuckle. The other day we were at his parents’ again and Marianne kept gushing about how she has never seen Henry like he is with us and that she is so happy that we are in their lives now. ‘Marianne and Colin very much like Vanessa and according to Colin, he likes my daughter more than he likes his own sons, so there is not much to worry about, sweetheart. However,’ I say, ‘I do think it’s adorable that you worry this much about us meeting your brothers. It shows us that you really care.’

Henry blushes and lets out a bit of a nervous chuckle. He continues to bake pancakes and when he finished up the last one, I hear tiny footsteps on the stairs, followed by the sound of dog nails hitting the carpet.

‘I’m seven years old, mommy,’ Vanessa yells, as she jumps in my arms.

‘I know, sweetheart. Happy birthday.’ I give her a big kiss and from the looks of it, she is really happy and hyper. ‘You feel like a big girl now?’

‘I do, I do, I do.’ She hugs me tightly and I let out a content sigh, as I press my nose in her hairs. ‘I love you, mommy,’ she says.

‘I love you too,’ I say with a smile. ‘Mommy is really proud of you, you know that?’

She smiles and gives me another kiss. ‘I know,’ she cheekily says and I put her down on the floor. ‘Superman, I’m seven now.’

‘I know, sunshine. You’re getting old.’

‘Not as old as you,’ she retorts and I’m so happy that I am raising a sassy little girl. She jumps in his arms and he kisses her cheek, before he says: ‘Happy birthday, Vanessa.’

‘You are making pancakes?’ she asks, wrapping her arms around his neck.

‘Not just pancakes. I made birthday pancakes, especially for you.’

Vanessa’s eyes grow wider. ‘Really?’

‘Of course,’ he says, nearly scoffing with a chuckle. ‘You only turn seven once and we have to celebrate that with special birthday pancakes. I put some chocolate in it, because I know how much you like that.’

Vanessa looks over her shoulder at me and says: ‘I love this birthday already.’

I lean against the doorway and blink my eyes a little faster. I don’t want to be emotional, but these past weeks have been such a rollercoaster and my feelings are trying to find a new normal again, but it’s not that easy. Especially if you are a professional in bottling up emotions like I am.

We eat our pancakes and I sit across from Vanessa, who sits on Henry’s lap, as he helps her rolling her pancakes. I take dozens of pictures, wanting to have physical evidence of this wonderful moment between them. They are surely getting attached to each other and I continued to think about what would happen if I broke up with Henry.

Would Vanessa still see him?

I forced myself to stop thinking about that, because it only made me sad. I mean, I already can’t imagine a life without Henry.

‘When can I open my presents?’ she asks.

‘When you finished your pancakes,’ I say. ‘After that, we’re going to get dressed go to Henry’s parents.’

‘We’re going to mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again?’ Vanessa claps her hands. ‘Are they going to give me gifts too?’

‘They are, sunshine,’ Henry says. ‘And there are going to be four other guests.’

‘Who?’ she asks, her eyes lighting up already.

‘My brothers.’

She smiles. ‘I like that. Are they going to give me presents?’

I try to hide a laugh, but I fail miserably. The most important things to Vanessa sure are quite something and totally relatable if I’m being honest. ‘They are, sweetheart,’ I say.

‘But, sunshine, I have to tell you something,’ Henry says. ‘If they do something you don’t like, you tell me, my parents or your mommy, okay? This is your birthday and I want you to be happy the entire time, okay?’

‘I can tell them myself,’ Vanessa says.

Henry smiles at her. ‘I know you can,’ he says. ‘But will you promise me that?’

She nods. ‘I promise, Superman.’ She presses her nose against his cheek and says: ‘You really are Superman.’

Henry films as Vanessa opens up all her presents and she is the happiest with the bike Henry and I bought her. It has bears on it and a flag on the back, also with a bear. She sits on it and says: ‘Now I really am a big girl.’

After unpacking the gifts, Vanessa and I go to the bathroom, where we get in the shower cabin and I help her with washing her hairs and getting all freshened up for the day. She keeps on babbling about how happy she is and excited that she is going to see mrs. Marianne and mister Colin again. I wrap her up in a towel after I done that for myself and since I can still carry her, I lift her up in my arms as we walk to the bedroom. ‘You go warm up in my bed, as I get dressed,’ I tell her, handing her my phone so she can play a game on it.

I decide to wear a black casual dress today, since I know that Vanessa always loves it when I wear dresses on her birthday. I slip on the Doctor Martens, tie them up and walk over to the big mirror that I have on the closet. I grab some hair products and comb my fingers through my hair.

Henry enters the bedroom and smiles when he looks at me. ‘Birthday girl,’ he says to Vanessa. ‘Did you tell your mom to wear this dress?’ He runs a hand through his slight out of control curls.

Vanessa nods. ‘Mommy has to wear dresses on my birthday, because I like that.’

He gives her a thumbs up, causing me to roll my eyes. ‘Did you pick this one out?’

She nods again. ‘And when I grow up, I want to wear that dress.’

‘You have excellent taste, sunshine.’ He walks over to me, gives me a kiss and says that he is going to take a shower now.

‘Henry, you have to wear something colorful,’ Vanessa says, before he can walk out of the room.

Henry leans against the wall and asks: ‘Like what?’

‘A pink shirt.’

He cocks an eyebrow. ‘I have to check my wardrobe to see if I have a pink shirt. How about before we go to my parents, we stop by at my house?’

‘Can I pick something out?’ she says, her face lighting up already. ‘Pretty please?’

I already know that he us unable to say no to Vanessa. ‘Of course you can.’ He chuckles and looks at me again. ‘You look really beautiful, love,’ he says to me.

‘Thank you.’ I don’t want to blush, but I feel my face heat up.

Henry sends me a wink, before he walks out of the room. After I’m done with my make-up and hair, I turn around and ask Vanessa: ‘You want to wear that pink dress with the bears on it, sweetheart?’

≫≫≪≪

‘Mommy, why is Henry nervous?’ Vanessa asks. We just stopped by Henry’s place, hoping to find something pink, but we came to the conclusion that he doesn’t have anything pink. After going through his closet at least three times, she found a baby blue sweater instead and it looks beautiful on him. It hugs his tight arms and I have my hand wrapped around the bulk of muscles.

We are on our way to his parents house, but he keeps drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and he hums. Now, he usually hums when we’re not really talking in the car, usually in a light tone, causing Vanessa to recognize the song, but today it’s in a nervous tone.

‘Because he is scared that his brothers will embarrass him.’

‘Why?’ Vanessa asks.

I turn around in my seat and say: ‘Because siblings tend to embarrass each other and Henry knows that when we are there to meet them, they will say and do stuff, hoping to get a sort of a reaction out of him.’

‘Isn’t that bullying?’

I shake my head. ‘No, because they are siblings, it’s more like teasing. Like when you want a cookie and I hold the jar over your head…. It’s not necessarily bullying, but I’m teasing you a bit, right?’

She nods. ‘But if Henry doesn’t like it, he should say it to his mother.’

Vanessa is adorable.

‘And otherwise he should tell me. I can tell his brothers they shouldn’t be mean to him. I mean, Henry told me that I should tell him if they do something I don’t like, right?’

‘Very good, sunshine,’ he says with an adoring smile as he looks in his rearview mirror.

We get out of the car, Vanessa holding her Kal’s leash in her hand as she frisks towards the already open front door. ‘Mrs. Marianne!’ she yells, Kal following her close by. For a second I’m afraid Vanessa is going to jump in her arms, but she doesn’t—thankfully—and wraps her arms around her waist. ‘It’s my birthday today.’

‘I know, doll,’ Marianne says. ‘And happy birthday to you. I bought a nice birthday cake for you.’

‘For me?’ Vanessa looks over her shoulder and holds my hand. ‘Mommy, mrs. Marianne bought a birthday cake for me.’

‘No way,’ I say, ‘that is so thoughtful of her.’

Marianne pulls me in a hug. ‘She looks so beautiful,’ she whispers, ‘as do you.’

‘Thank you.’

After she hugged her son too, we all walk into the house and the fact that Vanessa completely ignores the four insanely tall Cavill men, to go and hug mr. Colin, says something about their bond. ‘I missed you,’ she says.

‘I missed the birthday girl too,’ he laughs and from the looks of it, he begins to tell her the newest jokes he looked up, because she bursts into a fit of giggles after a few seconds already.

‘Olivia, these are my brothers,’ Henry says, placing a hand on the small of my back. I don’t know if he does that because he feels like he needs to support me or the other way around. ‘Simon, Charlie, Niki and Piers.’

I am amazed by the Cavill genetics. ‘Wow,’ is the first thing that leaves my lips and I nearly want to throw myself out of a window. ‘I’m sorry, that was creepy.’

All of his brothers start to laugh and I shake their hands to introduce myself, with my cheeks in a full on blush. ‘Nice to meet you, guys.’

‘No, no, no, it’s nice to meet you, Olivia,’ Piers says.

Niki nods. ‘We couldn’t wait to meet the woman that has our Henry all blushy and giggly.’

‘And just wondering, but why him?’ Charlie says. ‘I mean, sure, he is handsome, but have you seen the rest of us?’

Simon holds back a laugh and says: ‘Guys, look at that clenched fist. This man is about to throw in some punches.’

I look up and see not only his fist is clenched, but also his jaw. He is really working himself up and I nearly feel sorry for him. To cut Henry some slack, I say to Vanessa: ‘Sweetheart, come over and meet Henry’s brothers.’

She walks over and stands in front of me and I watch as all of his brothers crouch down, so they don’t seem that intimidating to my daughter.

I already love them.

Vanessa looks up, ignoring them a bit and asks: ‘Have they been mean to Henry already?’

‘No, sunshine, they haven’t,’ Henry says with a smile on his face.

‘So, I can be nice to them?’

I can see the looks on his brothers faces, already melting at the sight of my daughter being quite protective over my boyfriend. ‘Yes, sweetheart, you can be nice to them.’

Vanessa looks at Piers and holds out her hand. ‘My name is Vanessa Tran,’ she says.

‘Nice to meet you, Vanessa and happy birthday.’

She smiles. ‘I’m seven now.’

‘So I heard.’

All of Henry’s brothers seem to be impressed with Vanessa and when she reaches Charlie, he jokingly asks: ‘What does your mom see in Henry anyways? Do you know?’

Vanessa rolls her eyes like the sassy little thing she is. ‘Because he is Superman, of course.’

‘Yeah, I can’t compete with that,’ Charlie admits.

‘You want to see the gifts we bought you?’ Simon suggests and she nods. She holds onto Charlie’s hand and I watch them go to the living room.

‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’ I ask Henry.

‘No, it wasn’t.’ He lets out a big sigh and says: ‘I love you.’

‘I love you too.’

He smiles and holds my hand, as we go to the living room as well. Vanessa is sitting on Marianne’s lap, as she unwraps the other gifts. She is happy every single time, no matter what she gets. She asks whose gift it is, so she can hug the specific person as a thank you.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that Vanessa has wrapped the entire Cavill household around her finger.

While I watch them all interact with my daughter, I can’t help but notice the light in Vanessa’s eyes. I know she accepted that she didn’t have a large family and she told me that she was happy that she had me, but I knew that deep down she wanted to have a dad, grandparents and aunts or uncles. I mean, sure, she has Belle and she loves Belle with all her heart, but this is different.

This is one whole family that fell in love with her and she knows it.

‘Mommy, look, a coloring book filled with bears,’ she chuckles, as she walks over to me.

I pull her on my lap and wrap my arm around her waist. ‘So pretty,’ I say to her. ‘Did you say thank you?’

She nods. ‘I’m really happy.’

‘I know you are.’

‘Is this our new family?’ she asks, loud enough for the others to hear her. ‘Because I like them a lot.’

Don’t you dare start crying now, Olivia Tran. I look over at Henry, who sits next to me on a chair. He slides his arm from the back of the chair on my shoulders, giving me a little bit of comfort. ‘You should ask them.’

She looks at the Cavill family and asks: ‘Are you my new family?’

They unanimously start to nod. ‘We are, doll,’ Marianne says, her voice cracking a bit.

Vanessa turns around in my lap, so she can look at Henry as well. She ushers him closer and asks him: ‘Do they mean it?’

‘They do, sunshine.’ He places his hand on her leg and says: ‘We are all very happy that both you and your mom are part of our family now.’

‘I loved all the presents I got,’ she says, ‘but having a family is the best present I could ask for. Who do I say thank you to for that, mommy?’

I’m unable to answer something, as all sorts of things run through my mind. Have I finally given her everything I simply can? Is the life that I wanted for my daughter, finally happening? I simply press a kiss on her cheek and hear Henry say: ‘You should thank your mom for that.’

Vanessa tilts her head. ‘Why?’

‘Because your mom allowed me in your life,’ he says, ‘and because of that you not only got me, but also got the rest of them.’

Vanessa looks at me and says: ‘Thank you, mommy. For finding the best family for me.’

≫≫≪≪

The entire day I hold my tears back, but when I watch the Cavill men, including Kal run around in the backyard, throwing around a ball with Vanessa, I can’t help but let out a shaky breath.

This is all I ever wanted for my little girl. I wanted her to have a big loving family and now on her seventh birthday, she has that.

After she thanked me for finding the best family for her, I could barely look at someone else anymore. Henry knew something was up, but he couldn’t get it out of me.

I sit on the porch with Marianne. ‘I’m just going to say it once again,’ Marianne says. ‘You have raised an extraordinary girl and the both of you made my son a very happy man.’

I chuckle, as I watch Henry picking up Vanessa and as an answer, she pushes her nose against his cheek, before she bursts out in giggles. ‘Well, he makes me very happy too,’ I say.

Marianne places a hand on my knee and says: ‘From one mother to another, it’s always hard when you think you’re not giving your kids what they deserve, but you are doing an excellent job.’

I blink away some tears. ‘It’s just that… I always feel so guilty when I think about Vanessa and how desperately she wants to have a family, and I’m not able to give her that, but… I never knew how much I missed having a family around me, who cares about me like you all do. I think I forgot how it felt to be welcomed like I am here.’

Marianne nods. ‘Always remember: you don’t have to do it alone anymore. You are welcome here in our entire family and we would love to help you out.’

‘Thank you.’

‘They might make fun of Henry,’ she continues, ‘but his brothers know how happy he is with you. Piers just told me that he never seen Henry like this. Charlie said that you are by far the greatest woman he has ever met and both Simon and Niki are impressed by the way you raised your daughter. You two are truly to best that could ever happen to Henry, but also to us.’

I clear my throat and I stare at Henry, who holds Vanessa above his head, so she can throw the ball through the hoop. ‘Excuse me,’ I say, as I stand up and walk inside the house. I don’t know where I end, but somewhere where people can’t see me from outside.

I bury my face in my hands, as I let out a small sob, followed by many more. I shouldn’t be sad, I should be grateful. I am welcomed in a family with both arms wide open. But it all hits extra hard today. My little girl turned seven today. My boyfriend brought me to his family. Vanessa thanked me for finding her a new family.

‘Is everything alright, love?’ I hear Henry ask me.

I look up, wiping my tears away, but I can’t stop crying. Henry walks over to me and pulls me in a tight and safe hug. ‘It’s nothing,’ I whisper.

‘Don’t,’ he says. ‘Don’t do that. You can tell me what’s wrong.’

‘I’m just a bit emotional, that’s all,’ I say.

Henry gives me a kiss on my forehead and says: ‘Come with me for a second.’ He holds onto my hand, as I follow him through the house. We walk into a bedroom that is obviously his old one and I can’t help but smile, seeing the light blue walls and how neatly it’s all cleaned. We plop on his bed and he pulls me on his lap. ‘Tell me what is going on inside your head, sweetheart.’

‘I think it’s a combination,’ I whisper, looking at my hands. ‘First Vanessa turns seven, then not only does she gain a whole family, but I do too. Every year on her birthday, I kind of wish that we get a card from my family, or a text, you know. Now your brothers bought a lot of Vanessa’s birthday wish list, without ever meeting her.’

Henry pulls me closer to his body. ‘You deserve it,’ he says. ‘Both you and Vanessa. My family loves you, Olivia. Niki and Charlie are already trying to persuade me into bringing you two to our Christmas dinner. I actually think they love you two more than they love me.’

I chuckle, as I roll my eyes.

‘And I have to thank you too,’ he says. ‘Vanessa thanked you for finding her a family, but I have to thank you for allowing me in your own little family. You made me the happiest man on earth.’

I look at him again, wrap my arms around his neck and press a kiss on his cheek. ‘God, I love you like crazy,’ I whisper to him.

‘I love you too.’ His fingers play with the hem of my dress, before he slides his hand underneath the thin fabric. ‘You have to go to work tomorrow?’

‘I don’t actually,’ I say with a smile. I raise an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘It’s good to know when I can show you how much I love you.’ He buries his face in the crook of my neck and presses a wet kiss on the sensitive skin. ‘Maybe we should head back again,’ he says, even though we both want something else. It was thrilling to have sex under your parents roof when you were sixteen, but it’s not so cute and daring anymore once you’re nearing thirty and you have a kid.

We walk back downstairs and when we are back in the living room again, Vanessa rushes towards us. ‘Mommy, why are your eyes red? Did you cry?’

Great job, sweetheart, if you can repeat that once again, only louder this time, maybe the neighbors can hear it too. All the Cavills look at me and I clear my throat, feeling a bit self conscious now. ‘I was a little, but they were happy tears.’

Vanessa nods. ‘Henry, do you cry happy tears?’

He lifts her up when she is close enough and says: ‘Sometimes.’

‘When was the last time?’

‘A while ago,’ he says. ‘It was when you gave me that drawing,’ he says. ‘I cried a little bit when I was alone at my place again, because I finally knew for sure that you liked me.’

She chuckles. ‘Silly Henry, I don’t just like you. I love you a lot.’

There is an audible gasp in the living room and I know that I was part of that gasp, but from the looks of it, Marianne took part in it as well. Henry is at a loss for words, but his eyes do fill up with tears.

‘Are those happy tears?’ she asks him, tilting her head.

‘They certainly are, sunshine,’ Henry says, as he wraps an arm around my shoulders too. ‘And you know what’s such a coincidence? I love you a lot too.’ He presses his nose against her cheek. She holds his face in her tiny hands and rubs her nose against his, a little eskimo kiss. ‘I’m never letting you or your mom go,’ he says to her.

Vanessa chuckles. ‘Well, I wasn’t going to let you go,’ she tells him. ‘Because you make my mommy happy and when she’s happy, I am too.’

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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