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#Soft Higgs
vampirepunks · 29 days
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Boys 💛💙
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soullessjack · 7 months
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if Jack was in high school he would beat up so many kids im sorry
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astrandofgold · 1 year
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You could hear his breathing in the silent office, a calm, soothing sound even as your fingers worked gently to clean and dress his wound. You weren’t sure how he was so calm in this situation, it hadn’t been minor. “Oh Pete,” you had quietly admonished him when he walked into your office, even as you felt a rising warmth in your body at the thought of him always returning to you for aid, his boyish grin lighting up the room. As you focused on the final steps, hands working on their own, you were acutely aware of the way his lashes framed his blue eyes, the way he absentmindedly moistened his lips with his tongue, the way his fingers drummed on his thigh as he sat patiently. You can tell when his eyes dart over to yours, and you catch his gaze, his eyes getting that iconic crinkle around them as he smiles quietly, keeping his secrets to himself. It takes all of your will power to silence your rapidly beating heart now drumming in your chest. The two of you were away in a quiet bubble, away from the rest of the world, away from the rest of the employees in his company. You were alone, together.
There were no words to describe the elation you felt each time he came to you, the fleeting moments you got to be near him, feel his warmth radiating off of him, the warm scent of his cologne permeating your senses, feel his scarred skin under your fingertips. It was enough to keep you craving the next moment. You wanted nothing more than to have this same moment under different circumstances, one where he wasn’t in need of aid from some MULE attack, or a slip on a rocky cliff. It was enough to drive you to tears after he’d leave, the silence screaming in your ears as his absence became painfully obvious. But for now, he was here, inches away from your beating heart as you patched him up again.
As you finish up, your hands limply rest in your lap as you wait for him to leave you once more. He hesitates, and you notice the way his lips part for a moment, the way his throat moves as he swallows heavily, the way his bright eyes look at you earnestly. Anticipation burns within you, but he thinks better of what he was going to say, and murmurs a soft thanks. He gets up and leaves, the color and energy he brought with him leaving as well, leaving you with your hands clenching the fabric of your outfit, shoulders trembling as you fight back tears. You ached for him, longed for him as you got to know him all those years working for him. There was an inherent need to be close to him that you couldn’t describe or explain. Everything about him drew you in, welcomed you, brought life to you, yet time and time again, you let him slip away. You knew he was the one, even if it was a sentiment you didn’t truly believe in. He was different.
And it was this state of emotional anguish that you were in when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, soft hesitation holding it back, and you know it’s him, it’s always him. It has always been him. You turn to meet his eyes, and your heart races as you catch his gaze, the way his eyes soften as he smiles down at you, and he kisses you. Soft and passionately, hungry and longing and all the million little things going through your head all fade until they’re focused on one thing. The way he feels against you. The way his hands bring you in close. The heat from his body, the scruff of his beard, the way his cologne permeates your mind.
All of it is him. And all of it will always be him.
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ziri-likes-stuff · 2 years
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Hugged Higgs is a happy Higgs! ❤️
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emeritusemeritus · 8 months
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Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight. Pt 12.
[Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley]
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Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Title: Just wanna bewitch you in the moonlight.
Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley
Timeline: Predominately set between GOF and OOTP (some canon has been altered to fit the story)
Summary: Both twins like Gryffindor!reader. Reader likes both twins. How will she decide who to chose in the end? Amortentia might be able to help, or not.
Warnings: Smut, oral sex, p in v sex, established relationships, threesomes, friends to lovers, all the good stuff. NO Twincest. Mentions of illness, Brief mentions of vomiting. Tiny bit of angst, possessiveness, talk of kids. Mentions of dominant behaviour. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Love potions? But none are actually used. Threesomes but again NO Twincest. Cormac Mclaggen, because he needs his own warning. Not beta-read nor spell checked, we die like Sirius ❤️
The final chapter 🤍
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Monday morning came too quickly, you thought, as you gathered your usual potions books and went down to breakfast with your friends, meeting Hermione down in the common room so you could go together. Last night was the first night you'd spent alone all week and you struggled to sleep without the two familiar bodies beside you, tossing and turning for most of the night struggling to get comfy.
They weren't at breakfast that morning and Ron, digging into his third course of breakfast had let you know that they were doing an early morning quidditch practice with the whole team to make up for the lost week, hence half of your group being missing at breakfast.
You made your way to the potions classroom alone having missed Katie in the hall, stopping briefly as you stepped off of the stairs hearing your name called out. It was Cormac Mclaggen, sprinting down the stairs to catch up with you. You inwardly groaned, not prepared for his ego this early in the morning. Truth was he was always pleasant to you but you found his company boring and stifling, the conversation never quite drifting away from him.
"Y/n! You walk fast," he says as he descends down the stairs in a hurry, trying to catch up with you.
"How was your week? I was hunting Nogtails in Norfolk with my uncle Tiberius and Rufus Scrimgeour, you know the head of the Auror Office? Myself and Bertie, Higgs, our family friend, caught two on our first day alone," he says smugly, completely overriding his question as he walked in step with you towards Snape's classroom. You bummed out a vague reply, trying to subtly walk quicker to decrease the amount of time you'd need to spend with him, cursing the distance between the staircase and the classroom.
"It's so odd to see you away from those Weasley boys, you're quite a package deal aren't you, I didn't see them at breakfast either," he muses.
"They had quidditch practice this morning, Angelina's trying to make up for the lack of practice sessions last week," you mumbled unenthusiastically, trying to be polite but not enthused.
"Such a shame I wasn't able to try out again this year, Davis bet me to eat a pound of poisonous doxy eggs and I spent the week in the infirmary, though I'm sure you're aware. It was the talk of the school that week," he says with a tone of pride, making you want to gag.
You hardly turned to him but felt him look towards you as you neared the classroom. He suddenly reached out to touch your shoulder and stopped you just before you crossed the threshold to the potions corridor.
"So I was wondering," he says, pushing back his curly hair in a move that you were sure he'd practiced countless times in front of the mirror, "we've never talked that much and it's quite honestly a shame, I'd like to get to know you a little better," he smiles, perfectly straight and shiny white teeth glinting at you as he leans against the wall in front of you, blocking the classroom with his arm. "How would you like to accompany me to Hogsmeade this weekend? We could get to know each other better over a butterbeer or two, my treat of course."
You could have thrown up in your mouth at the very thought, even without the smug and smarmy look on his face as he asked. You didn't even remotely know how to respond to his offer, wanting to shoot him down immediately but still remain civil enough.
Luckily for you, that decision was taken out of your hands as Professor Snape burst out of his office at precisely the right time.
"I suggest you don't linger in doorways Mclaggen, your prospects in this class might be acutely inadequate but to prevent a prosperous student from acquiring her education might be the most shallow and egregious thing you've done thus far," he grumbles as he barges past, his gaze fixed upon Mclaggen's arm as it blocks your entry to his classroom. Snape gestures briefly for you to walk ahead of him as soon as Cormac drops his arm and he follows behind you as you enter the classroom, leaving Cormac standing out in the corridor with his mouth agape.
Snape stalks over to the front of the classroom, swishing his wand to close the shutters on the windows, leaving only the large window at the front of the class to light the room.
"Today's class will be a continuation of our last session, I pray one week away has not melted your tiny brains and that some information was retained," he says as he scribbles on the chalkboard, writing 'Amortentia' in his beautiful, decorative script.
"Last week miss y/l/n brewed a perfect draft of Amortentia and I would like for you all to try and replicate this impressive feat," he says, gesturing towards a small vial of potion in his hand, a sample of your potion from last week. "You may work in partners, I dare say the probability of success should be increased but I have yet to see such things."
Chatter begins to spread throughout the classroom as people link up and you're name is called out more than a few times as people hope to partner up with you.
"Miss y/l/n shall be working alone, her accomplishments will not be diminished by an idle participant. The recipe and method are listed in your textbooks, page 634, the ingredients have been placed by your benches, I expect a better turn out than last week."
He moves to stand beside your bench and you look up at him expectedly, not yet starting your preparations for brewing the love potion.
"Would you stop by my office after class?"
"Yes sir," you reply politely, confused by his request but not dwelling on it as you gather ingredients. He nods and walks away with a flourish of his cape, already calling out students for not using the proper method.
Your nerves consumed you, not of brewing the potion again but of the result. Having spent the week with the Weasley's, you were more conflicted than ever about who you truly loved, finding no resolution to your conflict. The night you'd all spent together had only further added to your confusion, finding that it felt right and without conflict and there had been no awkwardness or regret from any of you the next morning.
You set to brewing the potion, the same way you had the previous week though this time you paid meticulous attention to the heat, ensuring that it didn't boil over again, even for a moment. You still weren't convinced that you'd brewed it correctly, despite Snape's claims, knowing that the changing smells must have been a fault.
You caught sight of Cormac in the corner who was already looking at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he looked at you brewing love potion. You thought for a brief second you'd need a second cauldron to vomit into but you didn't humour him and just turned your attention back to your potion.
Once you'd added all of your ingredients, you turned off the flame below and allowed it to sit on the residual heat just as you had before, this time watching as each bubble popped to the surface, keeping a fixed eye upon the steady effervescence.
The moonstone powder circulated in the elixir and began to shine in a pearlescent swirl, signs that it was already coming together. When the steam above the cauldron began to twist and change, forming long spirals, you knew you'd done it once again.
Snape was on hand immediately, apparently carefully overseeing your creation and stepped forward to once again place a lilyfig leaf into the mixture. He let out a small, clipped smile as the leaf disintegrated before your eyes, eroding in the liquid until it had disappeared entirely. Snape looked up towards you with a look you couldn't place, holding your gaze for just a moment before announcing to the glass that you had once again drafted a quíntese example of what Amortentia should be.
"20 points to Gryffindor," he says, looking up at you as you break out into a thankful but bashful smile. The Gryffindor's in the room all cheer excitedly at your collection of house points, shouting out your name and hollering until Snape puts an end to the ruckus. He then nods once towards you and moves away, tending to other cauldrons that seem to be on the verge of boiling over or worse.
It was now or never. You looked at the potion before you, entranced by the spiralling steam and stepped closer, ready to discover for the second time who you would smell. You tried to clear your mind, not to think of either twin as to not cloud your judgment and stepped forward, preparing to smell either Dandelion and Burdock or Pumpkin Spice.
When neither came, you frowned, looking down at the potion that seemed to be correct but wasn't emitting anything you recognised, until it hit you.
The smell of the ground after it had rained.
It had always been one of your favourite smells in the world, only right now there was a very specific memory attached to that scent, the particular smell of dried grass mixing in with it that made you certain where the scent originated.
The morning after your threesome with the twins.
You began to stir, slowly rising out of your dreams as wakefulness overcomes you, quickly realising that you were lay in bed between both twins who were still sleeping soundly either side of you. You stretched out your legs and winced a little at the soreness between your legs but couldn't help but bloom into a smile at the thought of the previous night, of being loved by both of them, together. The ache between your legs served as a reminder or a souvenir you could say of the wonderful night.
Not wanting to disturb them, you lay in bed and looked out of the window, seeing the warm hues of dawn outside, the rain no longer falling as the sun bloomed over the hilltops.
"G'morning princess," Fred says sleepily from behind you, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he pulls you closer to him and cuddles you.
"Morning handsome," you whisper as you smile, not wanting to wake George just yet as you snuggle into him, feeling him press gentle kisses to any area exposed to him.
"It's stopped raining," you say absently as you feel him stretch out his long legs behind you. He hums in reply, too focused on you. You see George begin to stir in front of you and even in his sleep he reaches out for you, arm extending to drop around your waist. You reach over, shifting in Fred's hold but not pulling away, to press a little kiss to the tip of George's nose, seeing him do a little scrunch off his nose and then a little blissful smile as he begins to wake.
His eyes flutter open and he smiles sleepily as he sees you, his hand reaching to stroke your waist as he wakes up.
"Morning angel," he says quietly, his voice still deep and rusty from sleep, making your heart skip.
"Morning Georgie," you smile, reaching out for him too, placing your hand on his chest.
You all lay cuddling for a little while, just enjoying the slowness and stillness of the peaceful morning before George gets up to open the window, feeling a little warm from the body heat.
"It's stopped raining," he points out, climbing back into the comfy bed and making you smile at the similar comment you made earlier. Immediately the smell of the ground after the rain drifts in through the window and takes over your senses completely, wrapping you in an extra layer of comfort and peace as you lie there between your loves.
The scent suddenly changes and pulls you out of your little daydream, the strong scent wrapping around you like a warm blanket as you smell familiar whizzbang smoke, so identifiable in its undertones that you can't help but smile. The musky, burnt smell is instantly recognisable as it mixes with a lingering sweetness that cannot be confused with anything else.
The scent then changes abruptly to something you couldn't place. It was unlike anything you'd ever smelt, an array of scents mixed together so perfectly that the individual notes were indecipherable. Almost like a smoky incense with sweet notes and something clean, a warmth to the scent that seemed to ignite something in you that you couldn't explain. You frowned, not knowing what it was but it was undeniable that it made you think of both Fred and George, like a perfect blend of the two.
It was both. You loved them both.
Tears brimmed at your eyes as you stood looking down into the shining liquid but this time they were tears of pure happiness and elation. You no longer felt any guilt or shame at your feelings, knowing that it was unequivocally equal.
But then the weight of guilt and pain overwhelmed you again, knowing that now you would never be able to choose between them.
Class finished rather uneventfully and you couldn't help but thank Professor Snape for asking you to stick around and visit his office afterwards, having seen Cormac waiting for you in the corridor.
"Run along McLaggen," Snape says as he ushers you out the classroom towards his office, hardly casting a glance to Cormac as he glided past him. You followed diligently as you rounded the corridor towards the heavy wooden door at the end; the potion master's office. You'd only been in Snape's office once before, on account of Fred and George's antics. You were all reprimanded and given detention, though you were only guilt by association that time.
You stepped into the dark, cellar-like room and gazed around at the dark wooden shelves littered with multiple glass jars that spanned the entirety on the room, the circular desk in the center being the focal point of the entire room. Snape moves to stand behind the desk, offering you a seat in one of the plush leather chairs as he shifts a pile of exercise books and essay parchments that you assumed he had been marking.
"Professor Mcgonagall has told me that you have a meeting with her tomorrow in regards to your career prospectives," he says, taking a seat at his chair.
"Yes sir," you confirm, nodding slightly as he pulls out a pile of papers.
"And you are intending to carry on with Potions at NEWT level?"
"Yes sir," you nod again, a little confused by Snape's questions. "I got outstanding in my OWLs, I understood that was the criteria?"
"Yes," he says absently, "and do you wish to carry out a career in brewing?"
"I'm not sure sir, I enjoy it and I seem to be proficient enough," you say, trying not to sound clueless, not quite wanting to admit that you didn't have a plan for your future.
"Well quite," he interjects, attentively listening to your answer. A smile flashes briefly on your face at his conversational addition before you continue speaking.
"I just don't quite know what I want," you answer honestly, the irony of your words not lost on you as you consider that you were just as indecisive in all elements of your life.
He hums out a vague reply as he considers your words before leaning forward on the desk, hands crossed as he speaks directly to you.
"Have you not considered applying for prefect status?" His words surprise you and you can do nothing but shake your head, not wanting to voice your honest truth that it would conflict too much with your personal life, knowing that you'd have to either turn a blind eye to your boyfriend's antics or repeatedly get them in trouble.
"The reason I ask, is that a position will be available at the start of next term as potion master's assistant," he explains, "it would entail preparing ingredients, organising the stores, including my own, ordering, inventory and various necessary admin. I'd like to firstly offer the position to you." Your eyebrows shoot you into your head at his words, astounded by his offer. "You've proven time and time again how proficient you are and I dare say you would be the only student in the school worthy of the title."
You open your mouth to reply but nothing comes out, still in a state of shock at his offer, trying once again not to blush at his praise.
"I'll require an answer by the end of the week, after that the role will be offered to other students," he adds, "please consider my offer, it will serve you well in the future, even if your chosen path is not amongst this craft."
"Thank you professor," you say, finally managing to get the words out. "It's an honour to be chosen, I'll consider it," you smile, feeling a little overwhelmed. He nods with soft eyes, pleased by your reply. A moment passes as you wait to be dismissed and he gestures to the door, allowing you to leave. You gather your books and smile up at him about to exit when you turn back, "Professor, thank you for the book recommendation the other day, it's certainly much better than Jigger's Opuscule," you laughed, walking out of the office before closing the door and walking up the stairs to the great hall.
You were mightily thankful that Cormac had taken Snape's advice and had disappeared by the time you exited the dungeons. You made your way to the great hall ready for lunch after your double lesson and meeting with Snape.
You were a little nervous at seeing the twins since your discovery in potions and the role offer that followed, realising on your walk that you had so much to discuss with them.
Everyone was already gathered around the dining table at you walked into the hall, already tucking in to their lunches, Ron with particular vigour as usual. George looked up first, seeing you approach and gave you a sweet smile as he shifted down on the bench, making more room between himself and Fred. As George shifted, Fred looked up and smiled at you, also making room between the pair, though in a much blunter sense as he ordered Neville to scoot up, shoving his plate away for him.
You greeted everyone as you took your place and immediately felt two hands on each of your thighs, one from each twin underneath the table. George's stayed a little more PG over your skirts whereas Fred hand slipped under the fabric, caressing your bare leg just about your knee.
"Here she is," Cormac said, standing behind Ginny who was seated across from you. You immediately tensed upon hearing his voice, knowing that whatever slipped from his mouth would antagonise the twins.
"McLaggen," you greeted unenthusiastically, almost sighing at you reached for a piece of chicken, your gaze hardly meeting his, praying he'd go away.
"You never gave me an answer you know," he says flirting with a wiggle of his eyebrows and you immediately feel both twins beside you tense, Fred's hand inadvertently gripping your thighs just a little tighter. George straightened in his seat, as if making himself taller and more alert, no doubt fixing Mclaggen with a harsh stare. "Those house points you received have only upped my offer. Snape may have let you escape this time but I'll be waiting." He winks and walks away and you have to hold back a shudder at the thought. How long had he stood practising that line?
"Um what was that about?" Ron said, briefly pausing his feasting to look at you with a confused face.
"She got 20 points again in class!" Katie said excitedly from the other side of Neville, and the response was mixed amongst your group. Ginny, Harry, Neville and Hermione all celebrated your little win, telling you well done as they smiled at the little victory. Ron looked confused as ever, still frowning as George and Fred beside you looked tense and quite frankly, pissed off.
"Not that," Fred spat out, turning to look at you harshly.
You sighed, feeling your good mood slipping further and further away.
"Cormac asked me out," you said with a shrug, focusing your attention on picking at your chicken leg so you didn't have to look at anyone, "Snape burst in before I could tell him no."
"Why would you tell him no?" Hermione asks outraged and you can't help but shoot your gaze up to her at her sudden outburst, seeing her turn bright red as she realises she'd said that out loud. "Well he's not exactly bad looking, as Trolls and things go and his father's rather high up in the ministry," she mumbles, trying to dig herself out of a hole.
You snort at her words and place down the chicken you'd still yet to eat, "well if that's the new requirements for a boyfriend then Malfoy better watch out," you joke, trying to break the tension. "Personally I'd like more than not a troll and a rich daddy."
"Oh yeah, like what?" George says, seemingly less pissed off than his identical brother who still seemed tense and frustrated. You shoot him a little look as if to say what the hell and he merely smirks down at you, knowing exactly what he's doing.
"Aww Georgie, sad I didn't describe you?" You tease, trying to act as just friends in front of everyone. "You want me to say tall, ginger and funny so you can sleep tonight?"
Everyone around the table laughs, unaware of the deeper meaning to your words.
"Shove off," he replies without any conviction, playing his role perfectly as he shoots you a subtle wink. Fred seems to have defrosted slightly but still seems a little more uptight than usual and so you knew you had to pull out the big guns. "You wish," he adds with a knowing smirk.
"I was actually talking about Fred," you joke, nudging the other brother who suddenly smiled a little dopey smile and you felt his hand un-tense around your leg as he stroked his thumb over your skin softly.
"I am better looking than you," he smirks as his brother who simply rolls his eyes and you're glad to see that the tension had finally slipped away.
"So how come you were so late?" Ginny asks, putting down her knife and fork before reaching for her goblet of pumpkin juice.
"Oh," you said, "Snape called me into his office."
The twins immediately 'oooh' as everyone looks at you surprised, thinking the worst.
"What did you do? Blow up a cauldron?" Fred jokes.
"Relabel the Lacewing flies?" George adds.
"Talk in class?" Fred.
"Late?" George.
"Skirt too short?" Fred smirks.
"No," you huff before turning your head straight to Fred, realising his words, "what's wrong with my skirt?" You ask.
"Literally nothing," he flirts and you roll your eyes, elbowing his arm as George chuckles.
"He asked me to be potion master's assistant next term," you explain, finally taking a bite out of your lunch. Everyone goes silent, looking surprised at you.
"That's unheard of!" Hermione says, a little too loudly. "No sixth year has ever been an assistant! It's like a first year getting head girl!"
You don't know what to say and simply shrug, turning back to your lunch.
"Well done princess," you hear Fred say as he leans into you subtly, making you blush. George's hand creeps up your back to stroke at your hip and you turn to look at him to see a sweet smile that conveys his own congratulations.
"You must take it!" Hermione says, pressing the matter. "You'd surely be the youngest Head's assistant in history!"
"I'm thinking about it," you reply with a nod, trying to tune out the rest of the conversation, hoping it shifts to something else. Eventually it does and you take the opportunity to lean over to Fred, whispering in his ear.
"Are you free later?" You ask and he looks up at you with a nod, eyes washing over your face, towards your lips before flicking back up to meet your gaze, trying to figure out your intentions.
"Black lake after hours?" You ask, raising your eyebrow teasingly at him and you can see the initial surprise in his eyes before he nods, a little too enthusiastically which makes you smile. He subtly nods to his twin who is deep in conversation with Angelina about something quidditch you didn't understand and you shake your head at his nonverbal question, trying to convey that you wanted him alone. His smile widens just slightly as his hand squeezes your thigh again before you both turn back to the larger group, hoping nobody saw your little exchange.
You'd managed to borrow the Marauders map from Harry for your little jaunt, knowing that it would be tricky to sneak all the way out without a lookout and you didn't trust yourself to be alert enough around Fred. You met Fred in the common room and began to sneak around the corridors, avoiding Filch and prefects until you were stood in front of the statue of Gregory the Smarmy, shifting around it with great precision until you slipped into the little passageway beneath that lead out onto the grounds surrounding the school, close to the lake.
"So princess," Fred says as you walk out towards the lake, taking your hand in his, "Is there a reason for this or did you just miss me?"
"Both," you admitted, pulling him closer to you by your entwined hands, feeling elated at getting to spend time with him as your boyfriend, away from everyone else.
You made your way to the bank and sat down on the rocks, looking out at the calm, moonlit water. Your nerves were starting to get the better of you as you looked at Fred, seeing the moonlight framing his face beautifully, illuminating his sparkling eyes and highlighting his strong features.
"I wanted to talk, about everything, away from George," you said, breaking the silence. Fred turns to you with hesitation in his eyes, feeling the foreboding sense of pain. "I'm going to just speak openly about what I need you to know and I just want you to listen okay, otherwise I'll never get through this and please no teasing, it's hard enough to admit without that." He nods silently, showing that he's listening.
You stand, pacing a little already as you fight to get the words out with Fred still seated watching your every move.
"It's always been you. You have been my best friend since practically my first day here. It was you that always gave me butterflies and your name I used to scribble in my little notebooks, you I'd focus on during Quidditch games and cheer the loudest for. I can't remember a time that I didn't fancy you, even as a first year before I really knew what it meant to like someone, I always felt some extra kind of pull towards you. Then you started growing your hair out and I thought I was going to die from being so attracted to you, like every time you looked at me I thought I might faint. And then the flirting started and the little touches and then that night at the pond at your house happened, when you and George told me how you felt and since then I've been a mess. I never intended to fall for George, it just happened so naturally and so quickly that I feel like I'm still dizzy from it," you pause, taking a long breath as you suddenly stop pacing.
A sudden rush makes you jump as Fred moves to stand directly in front of you.
"You said 'fall for George', you love him?" He asks, towering over you. You nod, trying to be brave under his imploring eyes.
"Do you love me?" He asks, his vulnerability showing as his slightly sad eyes look into yours. You nod again and are suddenly swept into a kiss that steals the breath from your lungs, his hand cradling your chin as he pulls you deeper and deeper in. When you pull apart, Fred rests his lips on your forehead, the height different allowing him to tuck you into his body, chin resting on your head as he holds you.
"I love you," you say, pulling away slightly so that you can look up at him, seeing an infectious smile blooming across his face.
"Princess, I've loved you for a very long time," he says, still smiling as he leans down to give you another passionate kiss.
"But, George," he says after a moment, pulling away to look at you with a mixture of emotions you can't identify. A figure in the near distance makes you smile as you spot them walking towards you with perfect timing.
"Evening," George says as he approaches you both, handing you the marauders map that you'd agreed to 'drop' in the hidden passageway beneath Gregory the Smarmy, allowing George to join you. Fred looks at you both and chuckles, thankfully seeing the funny side of your little plan.
"You knew?" He asks his twin, playfully shoving him as George nods with a little chuckle.
"She caught me earlier, snook away from Charms during our free period," George explains before he reaches out and kisses your head, taking a seat on the rocks, joined by his twin a moment later as they look up at you.
"Same rules, please just let me get this all out first," you say, continuing your little speech. "You both know as much as the other right now and if I stop I won't be able to start again." They nod, muttering some kind of verbal acknowledgment as George waves his hand, urging you to continue.
You take a deep breath and start again, trying to calm your nerves and pluck up some form of confidence.
"Something happened before the break, in Potions," you explained, finally telling them the whole story. "You asked me what I smelled that day brewing the Amortentia and I never told you because I thought I'd made a faulty batch." You sighed, turning to look at them, seeing the confused looks on their faces, a tense sadness lingering as they waited to hear what you were going to say, who you were going to chose.
"I smelt dandelion and burdock, then toasted marshmallows and then whizzbang smoke," you admitted, adding quickly as you looked towards George, "but then Snape came over and distracted me, my potion started bubbling so I ran over and turned it off the heat but when I went back to it, it didn't smell the same. It was pumpkin spice, your jumper and whizzbang smoke."
You looked away from them again, trying to force out the last part of your little speech.
"I know you both want me to choose and believe me I've tried, I've desperately tried, but I can't, I can't choose when I love you both. This morning in potions, we brewed Armortentia again and this time it was different, it wasn't either of you it was both, mixed together. The smell after the rain, whizzbang smoke and... something else I can't place like a complete mixture of you two? It's hard to explain, it's warm and sweet but clean and faintly smoky, I don't know what it is but it's definitely you."
You started pacing again. "You're going to leave after this year and I still have my last year to do, Snape wants me to be his assistant, you're going to go off and starting the shop and I'm going to be left behind and I'm worried about that. I can't chose between you and I'm going to lose you both just because I stupidly fell in love with both of you, you can't wait forever and you'll find someone else and I can't be without either of you."
They both stand in unison, moving towards you, causing you to stop rambling.
"We'll not be at school, but we'll always wait for you," Fred says reaching out for you.
"We want a future with you, regardless of what or who you decide or even if you don't, we'll be here," George adds, taking your hand. Tears form in your eyes as you finally disclose everything you've been feeling.
"Y/n," Fred says, pulling your attention back to him, his tone serious as he uses your full name, "I've liked you ever since you sat down at the table after you were sorted into Gryffindor and I've loved you almost as long as that, every single day I love you more," he says, looking directly at you, "truthfully, I'd have been broken if you chose George but I'd have respected your decision and let you both be happy."
"And for me, exactly the same. I've loved you just as long but I accepted that it was Fred you liked, always secretly hoping you'd look at me the way you did him. But then you did and every day since I've felt like the luckiest wizard alive," George says, wiping at your eyes as a tear falls down your cheek. "This whole thing started because we both wanted to be with you and we wanted to both have a chance at loving you, that hasn't changed," he adds. Fred nods along with his brother's words.
"We knew how hard it would be for you to choose but we didn't anticipate how hard it would be for either of us to let go," Fred says, linking his hand with yours so that they were both holding one of your hands. "And then our feelings got deeper and we sensed that yours did too." You nodded along with him, agreeing with his words.
"Angel," George says, pulling your attention to him, "I don't know how it's going to work, but we'll make it work because it's us," he says, "we create our own future, remember? That night on the balcony, you told me how proud you were of us, defying conventions and other's opinions, of knowing what we want?" You nodded along again, remembering the conversation clearly. "We want you. So we defy expectations and ignore opinions. I told you I'd keep you forever if I could and that's exactly what I plan on doing."
"Me too, I might add," Fred says with a cheeky smile.
"I love you both, so much," you say, looking between them.
"I love you," George says, moving to kiss you, pulling you in to his chest. You then turn to Fred who smirks as he walks over.
"I love you too," he says, grinning as he leans down to kiss you deeply. "More, I might add," he whispers as you pull away, earning a swift kick to the shin by his twin.
After that night, you made it official with the twins, no longer having to hide your relationship from your friends and peers. You'd expected people to be more shocked and less amenable than they were but as soon as the initial gossip had circulated, you found that almost everyone was accepting of your unconventional relationship. Molly and Arthur had been surprised to say the least but they had quickly come around to the idea and had been as warm and welcoming as ever, especially excited at the prospect of you being their future daughter in law, which was brought up often.
Time passed quickly during the twins' last year as you spent your time preparing for your NEWTS, spending time with your friends and boyfriends, cheering at quidditch games and being Potion Master's assistant, the role you'd accepted only a day after Snape's offer.
You still didn't have a set plan for your future, all you knew was that Fred and George would be a prominent and continuous fixture within it, the two men you loved.
{Flash forward}
It was early in the morning on a sunny April Saturday when you walked down Diagon Alley, three takeaway teas in hand from the cafe around the corner as you strolled towards the brightest shop in the street, both in colour and innovation.
93 Diagon Alley was a beacon of light in the otherwise dull street, the other stores not holding a candle to it's vibrancy. You'd been given a special leave for the weekend, signed off by both your father and your 'boss' the potion master, under the guise that you would be collecting orders for the school's potion stores. In honesty, you were here for the grand opening of your boyfriends' shop, finally getting to see it in person for the first time after months of planning and designing with them.
You beamed with a smile as you spotted the humongous figurehead of your boyfriends' likeness in the front window, enchanted to repeatedly remove  and then restore the top hat, revealing a rabbit underneath the hat. Above the shop was the flat where your boyfriends had moved in to after leaving the burrow, the same flat you planned to move into with them once school was over.
Your smile only increased when you spotted two very familiar faces waiting by the front door to the shop, already dressed for the day in their three piece suits which were not identical in colour but were matching in every other sense. You walked quickly over the cobbles as you felt the cardboard carrying tray and the teas levitate out of your hand; seeing George flourishing his wand so that they didn't spill as you began racing towards them after not seeing them for nearly two weeks. You ran straight into Fred's waiting arms as George placed the teas beside you, waiting his turn with you.
Fred pulled you immediately into a passionate kiss, his left arm wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you to his body whilst his right hand crept to his favourite spot on your jaw.
As you pulled apart, George pulled you towards him by your hand and immediately kissed you with as much passion as Fred, his arms caging you in his hold.
"I'm so excited! It looks so amazing, I'm already so proud of you both!" You beamed excitedly, ready to be the first official customer inside the doors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
They both beamed in pure elation as Fred unlocked the door with his wand, casting some form of enchantment they used as the door opened wide, showcasing the mind blowing interior, stocked to the high heavens with all their amazing creations. Fred stepped aside, ushering you to step through first as they moved to walk behind you, carefully watching your face as you entered their pride and joy.
As you stepped through the threshold of the store, your breath caught in your throat as two things overwhelmed you simultaneously. Firstly, the sheer pride and amazement at the store in its entirety, so beautifully created to be the physical embodiment of everything Fred and George stood for. The shop was warm, fun, playful and eccentric, their life's creations displayed over five inviting and magical floors, filled to the brim with joy.
The second thing that rendered you entirely breathless was the smell. Clean, warm, sweet and smoky, all mixed together to create the perfect scent of your boyfriends. You couldn't stop the tears that ran down your face in pure happiness as you were finally able to place the scent that had plagued you everyday since you brewed the second draft of Amortentia. You laughed out loud in sheer delight at the absurdity of it all, the final piece connecting to perfect the puzzle of your life.
"The smell," you explained, turning to the twins who were watching you with slight concern at your reaction, seeing tears falling down your face. "This was the third scent of the love potion, the one I could never explain. It was both of you, it was always both of you."
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Thank you so much to everyone who has taken the time to read, like, comment and reblog my work! I’ve enjoyed every second of writing this series and hope to add more to their love story in the future 🖤✨
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soothinglee · 9 months
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slow train | tao xu x reader
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summary: you see a handsome stranger at the train station, seems like you knew a little more about him than you thought. first feelings are- different. do you like mr. unknown?
warnings: none.
authors note: in this fiction we are pretending like elle and tao are not a thing. we still love them but for the purpose of this we do not. at first i had written half of this and still didn't have a character in mind and then i realized i haven't written for heartstopper. how heartbreaking. also maybe a little out of character, first time writing for this character.
inspiration: the wonderful sebastian crofts song; "slow train to nowhere."
pairing: tao xu x reader (no pronouns specified. though reader is mentioned to go to higgs.)
masterlist | part two
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line 141 has got be written down as the slowest train in history. the electronic board above the waiting station said that the train would arrive around 2:47, though when you look at your watch its five minutes till 3 o'clock.
feeling a little antsy, you brush back the fly away, trying to calm down your jittery legs. the crowd around you grows as the seconds pass, all radiating the same aura as you, impatience. one person in particular stands out to you the most, a soft brown knitted vest adorned his white long-sleeve blouse, matched with tan colored trousers. he looked well fit, a handsome young man, and as you continue to watch him it seems as though he's looking right back you.
underneath the cream fluorescent lightening the hue of his cheeks change a flamingo shade, and right when your eyes meet his gaze is adverted. he looks nervous.
"cute." you whisper to no one but yourself, the old lady next to you glances in your direction with a shy smile. hopefully, she did not think you were flirting with her.
taking a quick peek at the man again you can't help but feel fuzzy. you have no clue who he is, nor ever spoken to him but something about him makes you feel-lightheaded. what a concerning reaction. he's intriguing to say the least, the way he too checks his watch as the time finally hits 3, or how his fingers hover over his hair when he goes to brush it but then ultimately brings it to his side. you want to know more. but he is a random stranger waiting for line 141 and who knows how dangerous of a person he could be.
but that doesn't stop you.
right as you muster up that courage to walk his way the faint hiss of the train tracks stop you as a gust of wind tips you backwards. just your luck, the train finally arrived.
in the commotion of everyone trying to make it onto the transport before it leaves you loose sight of stranger. the people blocking your views as you make your way onto the train to find a seat, many people go onto other cars leaving just you and a few others in the cart alone. what a waste.
as you make yourself comfortable you can't help but notice a melodic voice pull you out of your thoughts. it starts with the shoes, then the shirt and finally a young man stands before you, wringing his wrists together in a nervous manner. a timid smile etches its way onto his face and it's one of those where you can't help but smile back.
though remember, stranger danger.
"hello, d'you think i could sit here?" giving him a once over, he looks harmless, thin, lean gentlemen with great hair. really great hair.
your lips form to make a sentence but nothing comes out and suddenly-comically, your mouth is dry. that has to be the most embarrassing reaction because the man laughs. it was quiet but very pleasing to hear.
"i, you, yeah- go right ahead, there's enough room for the both of us." you respond to him with an awkward grin that probably came out more like a grimace then you had hoped for. god, why was it so hard being normal when a cute guy deliberately goes out of his way to talk to you. normally, the red flags would be shaming you but in the comfort of his presence, the tint fades green.
a moment passes between you both, and from the corner of your eye you see a pleased smile rest upon his face. "y'know," he starts and almost immediately you give him your attention. you might've caught him off guard by the forcefulness of it but he doesn't seem too bothered. "I saw you waiting for the train and for whatever reason you caught my eye. I wanted so badly to say something but my nerves got in the way." he laughs again, god that laugh. "I was beating myself up for it, thought that I let you get away, but, when I saw you from the other cart I thought, this is my chance."
you turn your gaze away from him bashfully, "well i'm glad you took it." you utter softly.
his grin grows, "i'm glad too, you seem like a nice person."
"i'd hope so, i was scared that you took me looking at you as intimidation."
he gasps playfully, resting his hand on his chest. "no, never! I hoped that you wouldn't think i was some creep checking you out." he admits faintly, but then is quick to add, "not that i was checking you out! because that's weird, and disrespectful, and- oh my god i'm making this worse." he covers his face with hands, and hunches over, trying to cave in on himself.
a loud bark of a laugh escapes you and cover your mouth with a hand, trying to suppress the giggles. though it's no use, the blush on the mans cheeks grows down towards his neck, his whole upper half is pink.
"don't worry," you reassure, placing a hand on his shoulder, "i didn't take that in a nasty way, you're okay."
the gentlemen takes a deep breath and sits back up, the color subsiding. the look in his eye is indescribable. the fuzzy feeling from earlier returns and it's hard to ignore. are you catching feelings for a guy you don't even know? seems like it.
as the conversation progresses you start to learn more about the man. firstly, his name is tao, and being on a first name bases doesn't classify you as "strangers" anymore, it brings a new-found hope. he lives with his mom, loves flims, hanging out with his friends and goes to an all boys school.
when asked what the name he is hesitant, of course, but gives the name quickly. upon hearing it you gasp;
"I go to Higgs! who knew we were closer than we thought!" at this point you are full on beaming, your whole body and posture screams he has all your attention. he nods his head happily.
for a second he pauses with an eyebrow raised, "do you by chance know a girl named elle? she transferred there last year, friends with tara, darcy, and sahar?"
hearing the names sparks a familiarity and you wiggle in your seat. "how could i not! i sit next to elle in homeroom and eat lunch with all four of them! 'known tara and darcy since gradeschool!"
he laughs loudly at the information, "this is crazy! the four of them are apart of my friend group. what a coincidence."
as you go to speak the lady on the overhead announces that the stop is coming up. tao looks towards the door and sees the next station start to slow down in the window. a pitiful sigh leaves his lips.
"your stop?" you inquire sadly, upset to see him leave. your stop isn't for another ten minutes. the rate this train moves is ridiculous.
tao nods his head slowly, trying to move as slow as possible when getting up, as the train lets out a rhythmical chime- the doors open and the people who once sat around you flood on onto the pathway, "it was really nice to meet you," he says, bringing your attention to him once more. something in his eyes shifts in the way he looks at you and you can't help but feel small under his gaze, in a good way. "i'll make sure to seat you next to me on my wedding day." the words were muttered so quietly that you had to strain to hear him, yet you did, and ghost of a smile hushes you as you watch him exit the train doors, joining the others on the other side.
"see you soon?" you hope, wondering if this would be the last time you would see him even though he's a five minute walk from your school.
his voice is airy and the way he holds himself is sincere. he pauses and then nods your way, "of course."
that was the most enjoyment you had in a long time- sad to say, it was fun until he had got off the train.
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blueberry-beanie · 3 months
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The New Cue #357 February 12:
Everything Everything's Jonathan Higgs
"We were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now"
At the beginning of next month, Everything Everything release their seventh record Mountainhead. It’s another brilliant album from one of the UK’s most imaginative and forward-thinking guitar bands, a quartet who never tread water and have been consistently honing, reworking and outdoing what’s gone before for over 15 years, always coming up with a new version of themselves without ever losing what makes them special. The pillars of their music tend to be a mix of danceable synth-y grooves and inventive art-rock, intricate arrangements constructed around big pop hooks and surrealist lyrics, frontman Jonathan Higgs’ vocal delivery emotive and exuberant at the same time.
Higgs is at the centre of it all, a creative dynamo who seems to sum up their idiosyncratic approach and who has the ability to inject emotion into the bizarrest lyrics, lines such as:
“And no reptiles! Just soft boiled eggs in shirts and ties, Waiting for the flashing green man Quivering and wobbling just like all the eggs you know”
That one is taken from Get To Heaven’s epic standout No Reptiles.
Or this, which somehow sounds poignant when Higgs sings it on the electro-pop banger Arch Enemy:
“Fatberg you smile, with your grave wax eyes, will you consume me?”
Or how about this oddball corker, from the euphoric electronica of Raw Data Feel closer Software Greatman?
“Maybe I see Klingons on the starboard bow Maybe, I’m a cat inside a sacred cow
Higgs is at it again with this zinger from their excellent recent single Cold Reactor: “I sent you the image of a yellow face To tell you I’m sad about the emptiness that’s all around me”
That song, released in autumn last year as the first single from Mountainhead, has become Everything Everything’s biggest radio hit yet. It’s spent weeks on the Radio 1 B-list, a very uncommon position for an indie band whose members are all in their late 30s, but its success that sums up the vibrancy and relevance of Everything Everything in 2024. Even better, it probably meant Radio 1 have had to get their heads around this blurb from Higgs on what the new record Mountainhead is about:
“In another world, society has built an immense mountain. To make the mountain bigger, they must make the hole they live in deeper and deeper. All of society is built around the creation of the mountain, and a mountain religion dominates all thought. At the top of the mountain is rumoured to be a huge mirror that reflects endlessly recurring images of the self, and at the bottom of the pit is a giant golden snake that is the primal fear of all believers. A ‘Mountainhead’ is one who believes the mountain must grow no matter the cost, and no matter how terrible it is to dwell in the great pit. The taller the mountain, the deeper the hole.”
Well, you don’t get that with Catfish And The Bottlemen. A few weeks ago Niall – that is me, I am The New Cue’s resident Everything Everything nut in case you hadn’t guessed – spoke to Jonathan over Zoom about the mad concept around the new record, the dynamics of being in a band in 2024, his favourite Liam Gallagher tweet and more. I’ve made this playlist of my favourite Everything Everything songs to listen whilst you read,
Hello Jonathan. I love the new record, it feels different to Raw Data Feel, a bit looser… Yeah, it’s got a lot more freedom and it sounds more like a band playing a lot of the time rather than the rigid, more computerised stuff that we were doing before. We made an effort to make it feel a bit more real and laid back.
Was there much overlap? No, partly because we put everything we made for Raw Data Feel on that record, we didn’t leave anything in the banks. We did the opposite with this, we actually went back and looked at some old demos and brought them back to life because we were looking for some kind of angle that we weren’t going to stumble across, we wanted to go back to our youngest selves and go, ‘What was that thing we were doing?’.
That’s interesting, how far back did you go? I think it’s sessions for A Fever Dream, or it might be Re-Animator, so five or six years ago. Some of the songs on this are from that time, or at least elements of them are or a little demo was made and then thrown away and then we went back and said ‘Let’s explore this and breathe new life into it.’
When you’re seven records in and you start to look back like that, does it feel like different versions of the band? Yeah, definitely. There’s definitely been eras, we’ve never got stuck in one way of doing things. There’s an evolution, for good or for ill, since our first songs to now. I can find myself very quickly thinking in those terms when I hear a song from then, I’m like, ‘Oh yeah, I was trying to do this’ and that stuff changes over time and I’m glad it does because otherwise, you just make the same record again and again and no-one wants that.
Yeah. Without naming any names, for some bands it ends up becoming a process of survival and maintenance. Yeah, thankfully, we’re not in that position. I know what you mean, this idea of being a nostalgia act does not appeal very much, partly because we were at our peak three albums in so we can go back and feast on Get To Heaven-era but I have no interest in going back to Man Alive and trying to recreate that partly because we were weirdos then and we’re weirdos now, it wasn’t the glory days by any means. I’m immensely proud of what we did back then but I’m not going to try and retread it. This is an odd thing to say having just said that I went back to some old demos and put them on our new record, but those demos were rejected for reasons that I find interesting now. And I don’t feel that we need to play the games we were playing them because we’re so good at writing successfully now, I think.
Something like Cold Reactor, I didn’t labour over it and I knew as soon as it was done, it was great and I knew that would that would carry us through. It allows you to feel a bit more relaxed about creativity rather than ‘Must get that radio single or we’re doomed!’, which obviously is the burning hot coal under our butts most of the time because it’s easy to take that stuff for granted, popular songs, but you’ve got to actually write them and they’ve got to actually be popular otherwise no-one cares. Basically, every album usually comes down to one, two or three songs and if none of them have any interest, then people just go, ‘Did an album even come out?’.
Cold Reactor is a good example of the band right now, it seems to sum up all that’s great about Everything Everything and it’s become this mad radio hit. I know! We’ve watched a lot of friends’ bands struggle in this period we’ve had, 15 years now. There is a tendency to rest on your laurels or try and repeat the thing and it’s very difficult to not do that. Sometimes, I’ve done it myself when I’ve sat down and written a song and then I get to the end of it, I go, ‘Well, we did that better with X song on Arc’ and it’s like, ‘I could do this and our fans will really like it because it sounds just like us, it sounds just like Arc’ and then we’re like ‘No, into the bin with you, let’s try and take that same sensation but do something new with it’. That often comes down to the production. I think if you were to strip all of our songs of their production, then you could probably find something I’ve written now very similar to something I’ve written.
There’s a simplicity to a lot of the songs on the new album, nothing is overloaded and it makes the more outlandish stuff more potent. That’s been a big thing to learn over our careers. You’ve got the ability to do outlandish stuff, and you’ve got these players who can play really well but that isn’t enough to just present all of those things at once and expect people to go, ‘Wow!’. Some of them will, and that’s how we made our name, the prog dads, as we used to call them, that came to our shows in the very early days and just stand there and go, ‘yes, this sounds like Yes!’, and that’s fine. But that I felt like it wasn’t really a challenge. It felt like being a music student still, trying to dazzle each other with complexity and emotion slowly rose through all that and they all just fell away. I was like, ‘No, that is the hardest thing to communicate’ and that’s the challenge. That’s what the greats do is, they get your emotions and you can’t manufacture that and you certainly can’t bamboozle that into people, you have to start with a strong, simple, true, or as close to true as you can manage, emotion and then you can start having fun with it. I think that’s the thing that took us the longest to learn.
Everything Everything’s work has grown more emotional with every record. You’ve got these big concepts around them but that disguises the fact they feel a bit more personal and vulnerable each time… I think that’s what happens to humans. Twenty-three-year-olds are a strange breed to look to for sustenance when it comes to art, there’s a rawness to being that age, it’s an age of discovery. And that stuff is very exciting but there’s no real reason why someone older would create like that or go to that well, it actually gets quite sad when people try to go to that well. Now I’m older and I’m more of an emotional person and I’m less about fireworks and more about volcanoes! I don’t know how to put it, there’s something much deeper now when I create than when I was a young punk.
On that note, rather than me crowbar into an incredibly long question, why don’t you sum up the concept of Mountainhead? It’s extremely simple, a one metaphor fits all type-deal. I knew I wanted to sing about capitalism but not put too fine a point on it. I mean, it’s not a very subtle metaphor. But I knew there were certain elements of it that I wanted to get across, namely the Sisyphean sort of feeling of it being pointless and also, the fact that there’s this trade-off between building the mountain but having to live in the dark, which was a big touchstone for me when I read Capitalist Realism by Mark Fisher, this sense that our lives are getting worse in some ways, that the more we progress we’re becoming more isolated and we’re shutting off large parts of our humanity in the search for this goal of ever expanding and growing our economy and trying to climb the ladder. It’s simple enough that you can’t really fault it, I’m not saying this is exactly how we live, there’s not enough to it for it to fail. It’s something everyone gets straight away.
A lot of the lyrics touch on that theme but which of the songs is the most personal to you that veer away from the concept? Probably The Witness, that’s definitely not really related to the concept. That’s pretty personal. There’s a line in there about this… I shot this bird with an air rifle when I was a kid. I walked into the shed and I saw it, this cute little chaffinch or whatever and it just sat there looking at me and then I picked up the air rifle, I knew where it was and I killed it.
You bastard! I know, I’m telling you this now cos I felt bad, I’m not saying it was a good thing! For some reason that came back to me. During the very early sessions on the album, we’d all gone away somewhere and when we got back, Alex went up to his studio at the top of his house and a pigeon had got into the room and thrashed and thrashed to get back out for four days, there’s like blood all over, feathers everywhere. I was like, ‘Guys, this is a sign… we’re gonna call it The Pigeon!’. Obviously we didn’t but birds do get into it - Canary obviously is a song there - and this thing about that bird and it flew into my head. That’s very personal. But then the rest of the song is about some fucked up stuff that happened to me in the pandemic that haven’t properly been able to talk about in these situations because it’s a bit too personal, basically. A lot of Raw Data Feel was about trying to deal with that as well. I should’ve called it Raw Data Deal. That’s the only moment I’ve given over to that thing on this newest album, the last song. I haven’t actually been able to listen back to it because it makes me too emotional when I think about what it’s really about. But that’s not for public consumption, it’s not needed.
Fair enough. Tell me about the dynamic between the four of you, because that seems like a really important point in your longevity. Apart from a very early line-up change, it’s been the four of you the whole way. Yeah, it’s great. We’ve settled into our roles over the last 15 years. Alex [Robertshaw, guitarist and keyboards] is very much the producer now and by way of that, he’s ended up writing a lot of the guitar and keyboard parts, which I would usually write more of in the past. I’ve become completely consumed by the emotion of getting the message across in the lyrics and stuff like that, as well as obviously writing songs. But in terms of how they sound, I’m less and less involved or concerned, that’s Alex’s playground more. Mike [Spearman, drummer] and Jez [Pritchard, bass] are very good at taste-making. Me and Alex do 98% of the composition and then those guys are much more like, ‘Well, I feel like this is a good way for us to go or this is better than this one,’ things you can’t really tell when you’re the creator and you think everything’s great. They’re also really good at the whole business side of the band, which is the less romantic end but incredibly important. So talking to accountants and they’re having meetings with the labels and Mike’s producing the videos, getting organised, all the stuff that me and Alex being “the creatives” are terrible at because we have the luxury of being terrible at them. Those guys fill in the gaps and they’re really, really good at that. Jez is really good at meeting people and all that kind of shit, so it works really well. You’ve got at least one person covering every possible angle. I’m doing a lot of the visual stuff now. I’m designing a lot of the visual side of the band, basically most things that we’re tweeting or videos is all being done by me. As a unit we could basically do this by ourselves... if someone gave us loads of money, which is how we operate.
My last question is a random one but it’s been on my mind. On Christmas Day, you dug up a four-year-old Liam Gallagher tweet where he called the producer Dave Sardy “Dave Sardine”, and I wanted to know how your Christmas Day mind had been drawn back to that. Haha! Well, when it happened someone tweeted it to me and I thought was funny and I retweeted then. Then recently, I remembered it and I went to see if it was still there. It was and I was like, ‘I’m gonna save that for Christmas Day’ - it wasn’t related to what I was up to. It’s just like, right, ‘Christmas Day, time to tweet my favourite tweet’. It will always be my favourite tweet because it’s how angry he is about Dave Sardine. It’s so good.
The full article is available on substack.
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wintrsss · 1 year
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『S/O with High Level DOOMs』
Fandom: Death Stranding.
Characters: Sam, Higgs, Cliff.
Request: Can you maybe do Headcannons for a reader with high level DOOMS? Like sometimes just forgetting that (other then higgs) their S/O doesn't have DOOMS like they do? Not in like a dangerous situation but more like teleporting behind them and scaring them accidentally. How would they react and so on with things that just come with being a high level?
Genre: Fluff, Headcanon.
Warnings: None. Reader is gender neutral!
A/N: I'm sure you only wanted Sam and Higgs, but I included Cliff bc I love him <3 let's pretend he knows abt DOOMs
Requests open!
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Sam Porter Bridges
You'll scare the hell outta him if you teleport without letting him know about it, but with how reticent he is, you probably wouldn't notice
He only knows a handful of people who have DOOMs and only two can teleport, it's rare for him to see one who can. Can't blame him for getting a little alarmed
He is more than happy to pass you some spare cryptobiotes in the case you getting tired from teleporting. You clearly need them more than he does
He will get a little worried once you tell him you're at a high level, with all the repercussions it has, but other than that, he won't dwell on it too much
Sam isn't very good at dealing with emotional problems, but he is a good listener. If you need an ear to talk to about those nightmares, he'll stay quietly at your side. Sometimes he'll say some things that Amelie told him to make him feel better, hoping they'll help you too
He'd rather you not resort to any sort of violence unless it's self defense; there's no need for it. But hey, if you really wanna let off some steam, you should do it to the MULEs or something to clear the area for future porters. Do some good with it at least, right?
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Higgs Monaghan
Half of him is excited to see you at a higher level like he is, the other half wants to show his superiority to you in every way
Sure, you can teleport like he can, but can you control BTs? Nuh uh, didn't think so
So yeah, with the many times he tries to brush aside your dooms abilities as less than par (compared to him), he's totally forgotten at least once
But after the first scare, you wont get him again! That's a promise!
With nightmares however, he may not understand your fear in them, seeing as he's already accepted mass extinction. He'll probably just tell you to go back to sleep without any thought
But if he sees you really shook from it, he'll at least try to comfort you, but it'll end up seeming really half-assed; he's just not used to cheering people up
Higgs isn't gonna be the one to dissuade you from any violent urges you may experience with DOOMs, in fact he's going to fuel the fire and encourage you to act upon these thoughts. Only thing he draws the line at is you hurting yourself
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Cliff Unger
I would not advise trying to scare him with your teleporting because you WILL get put to the ground
He wasn't an army captain for no reason, his reflexes undoubtedly prove that
But with how tired you get from doing that, Cliff strongly advises you to not use it so often, especially if it's for your own pleasure of getting a reaction out of him
You having DOOMs fascinates him, he'd love to learn more if you're willing to tell him about it
He can empathize to an extent on the nightmares you receive from this condition, having had plenty of his own in the past, he'll do his best to try to comfort you during the bad ones, rubbing your back and whispering soft affirmations to you
He knows he doesn't have to, but he likes to wipe away your chiral tears
Cliff doesn't want you following the same path of destruction he's gone to, so he'll keep on eye out in any changes in your behavior so that he can help in any way he can
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vampirepunks · 1 month
Text
Coffin telling Higgs he had to harden his heart to survive… He was too soft... once. Once upon a time, Higgs Monaghan was too soft, cared too much, and wore his heart on his sleeve. Once... he was just Peter.
...I'm unwell.
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bidonica · 2 months
Note
Hey! I see you're into fragile/higgs ship and caught myself quite like them too recently (tho i've been in DS fandom already for a year and mostly thought about them as a friends)
Just wondering why do you like them? Do you have any headcanons/interesting thoughts? I'm very curious 👀
Hi! First of all apologies for the wall of text you're about to get, but unfortunately you came knocking at my door after I spent nearly two months ruminating about this ship basically by myself sooo I'm dumping it all here
Well the short (lol) version is that in my first playthrough I mostly just absorbed the characters and storyline, but by the time I got to their final scene on the Beach I was like wait a minute... their whole shared storyline feels way too loaded for them to simply have been business associates, that shit is personal, even Higgs wanting to damage Fragile feels way too pointed to just be justified by "he was a turncloak with a secret agenda." Now, I'm not against a "they were simply close friends" interpretation, it works just as well to explain the emotional weight of their falling out, BUT I also cannot ignore the zest, the flavor, the spice of them actually having been involved romantically at some point. And honestly going into my second playthrough with the shipping goggles on I can't help thinking that Fragile speaks about Higgs like he was an ex that hurt her, and the way that she is suspiciously cagey about the specifics of their relationship makes my ears shoot up like a German shepherd.
On a Doylist level I also find it interesting that Kojima gave Higgs extra backstory that connects him to Fragile in the Director's Cut, and also how the behind the scenes for the DS2 mocap show Troy and Léa sharing a scene... I think Kojima is not done intertwining their story and we'll get more info in the sequel.
Now for the headcanons... I have enough that I might or might not be writing a long-ish fic about it, but I want to finish this Director's Cut playthrough before completing it (I could just look stuff up on the wiki but that's not fun). Also I have some art in the pipeline about it that I hope to post within the week. Anyway, the bite sized version of how I envision their relationship:
I hc Higgs as being immediately attracted to Fragile but not really acting on it, while she develops her attraction after getting to know him a little. Then she's down bad but she doesn't even realize it until it's so obvious it hits her in the face
A few people at their joint Fragile Express/whatever Higgs' operation was called co-op assume they are an item long before anything ever happens, because they just hang out together a lot. They have a similar penchant for corny jokes and puns and enjoy some light banter; Fragile finds Higgs' flair for theatrics endearing, while he is drawn to how gentle she is because he has known so little softness in his life (also he thinks she's insanely pretty, which duh. It's self evident because Léa Seydoux) (it's his first serious girl crush anyway; I hc him as bi and as having had mostly experiences with men before her)
They bond over their DOOMS condition and Higgs is fascinated by Fragile's powers, while she is less enthused by all the collateral effects. In my hc, at this point she has yet to become as skilled at traveling through dimensions as she is in the game, which makes her reluctant to agree to Higgs' requests to show him the Beach. This sows the seeds of his resentment towards her, because he feels she has a privilege she doesn't make use of and doesn't want to share.
They are both pretty touchy feely (canon!) so when their relationship goes from friendly to romantic it gets physical immediately and enthusiastically. Yes even accounting for the worldwide lowered sex drive. If there's one thing I never do is put characters in horny jail 🫡
 I think Fragile got to know a version of Higgs that was quite different from what we see in the game, which you sort of can gauge from the more optimistic pages of his diary. Like there's a part of him who's starved for love and connection and a sense of belonging and gravitates towards people like Coffin (he never had a mother) and Fragile herself; ironically, the pull towards Amelie answers to the same need but in reality it feeds on his more nihilistic, call-of-the-void side. I'm not saying that Amelie brainwashed him or anything, but I think she saw what was already there – a  deep seated resentment towards a hostile world and towards those he feels got handed a luckier deal than he did, that he countered by clinging to the notion of being special because of his DOOMS, but then there's someone like Fragile who's even more special and doesn't seem to be doing much with it. Amelie gave him a chance to fulfill what he felt was his potential and shared her power with him, but the tradeoff was severing  the connections he had, "killing" the part of him that wanted to be loved to make space for what he perceived as a higher form of love ("I found someone who completes me" which he says to Fragile specifically like he wants to rub it in her face? Like she wasn’t  enough to fulfill that role?)
That’s why I think it’s significant that he lost his hands with his power-up, because the (holding, welcoming) hands are strongly associated with Fragile; and to me it makes sense if he purposely ruins her body also because it’s a way to stifle his attraction to her. There’s also a lot of projection because HE is the one who’s felt like damaged goods all along, who grew up being  crushed psychologically and physically. I also think that both of them coming close to annihilating the other but choosing not to – leaving them in a dicey situation but not entirely without escape – shows in some twisted way that their bond still exists, which makes me giggle and rub my hands like a nasty little goblin knowing we have another game coming.
So… That’s the gist of it. Sorry for rambling on but as I said, I don’t really get the chance to talk about this ship much – greetings from rarepair hell, etc.
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lethalchiralium · 10 months
Text
Play Pretend | Higgs Monaghan x GN!Reader
a/n: just a lil thing i kept meaning to post, nothing meaningful i just keep thinking about him 🥺
warnings: TW: allusions to self harm, allusions of suicide. higgs being a dick like always.
summary: You’re in it for something, he concluded. He needs help, you thought, more than he’s willing to take.
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The fire that warmed your hands crackled softly, the cold breeze gently nipped at your ears and nose. You took a bite out of the lukewarm chicken that Higgs had managed to scrounge up, cook, and not actually burn. Your eyes didn’t dare glance away from the sight before you, the once highly feared man was now reduced to a man barely surviving. It was honestly a sight; his clean shave was now a dark scruffy beard, his usually short hair was now growing out and becoming wavy. You knew it was hard on him since you were an independent Porter and he couldn’t go and rest where you would, but it did give him a good shock not being able to be in control of everything.
Today was the day before you were able to finally go to your new shelter and finally be able to get Higgs into a real place.
“You’re starin’, sugarplum.”
You blinked quickly before giving him a soft smile. “Sorry, just zoned out.”
He answered with a grunt before beginning to devour the other chicken wing, and you couldn’t help but gaze at him from across the fire. If you had just met the man, you would’ve thought he was just a lost person from one of the Knot Cities; he looked harmless with that blank stare in his eyes. Barely spoke a word when you finally found him in front of the Middle Knot Ruins, you could’ve sworn that he was trying to get hung upside down by the BTs.
You looked down and took another bite, then looked back up to Higgs, who met your gaze with furrowed eyebrows. “Why are you starin’ at me for?”
“You just look very beautiful in this lighting.” You said and even though the fire had a warm glow, you could see his entire face flush red. He immediately looked down at his food and continued to eat and so did you, that inkling of doubt in your stomach for complimenting him was becoming bigger.
“Don’t compliment me.” He answered after a few more moments of silence; He chucked the empty bone into the fire, staring at it. “I don’t deserve sympathy.”
He tossed another bone into the fire and you decided to stay quiet. Time went by quickly, almost five minutes passed before he spoke again.
“You shouldn’t care about me.”
“I know.”
“Can’t you-“ He threw a bone at your head, it barely even grazed your hair as you looked at him. His face flushed red with anger, his body tensing, “-fucking hate me? Yell or something?”
You let out a breath, eyes boring into the stormy seas of Higgs’ own eyes. He was looking desperately for something to exploit, to gain leverage - there wasn’t anything he hasn’t used.
“Pass me the salt packet.”
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The damn thing was stuck. All of these credits poured into this brand-new shelter and the terminal was stuck in the floor.
Higgs stood off to the side in the overhang, the heavy timefall thundered upon the cold mud outside. Your foot hit the floor again, hands in your pockets as you just kept kicking the damn thing. The man looked towards the timefall again, watching as the trees swayed in the strong winds; he took a step further into the shelter. The timefall looked peaceful to him - no matter how hard it was raining, he considered the timefall to be an ideal death. Suffering until the rain decided he needed to return to the Earth - he deserved to suffer.
His daddy was always right, Higgs concluded. The outside world was out to kill him, the timefall would wash him away, that he deserved to suffer for even breathing. He only turned away, looking to you as you moved backwards from the circle in the floor.
He was still trying to figure you out - no one gave pity without knowing they’ll receive something in return. You wanted something from him, he felt it in his bones; but he had nothing to give. Amelie had taken his power, his fire, his will to even stand, all of the friends he had once hate him now or have died by his hand. He had no possessions, no credits - what were you in it for?
“Finally.” You muttered as the terminal popped up from the floor. Placing your cuff link underneath the scanner, the menu popped up and Higgs looked back to the outside world. He deserved to sit under Timefall and wither away. Maybe flowers would grow from his corpse, only to wither a moment later - maybe cause a voidout. He’d love to finally end it, to finally be able to be at peace.
Higgs almost walked into the downpour if it wasn’t for your arm slithering around his own, pulling him downstairs. His gaze moved from the outside world to a tiny prison. You pulled him with you - not ahead, behind. Beside you. Like he deserved to live here.
Higgs has never wanted to blow his brains out this much until now.
But he held his tongue as he was pulled around, you flicked on the lights with a button on your cuff link hologram. He made a quick glance around the place, deciding very quickly that he wasn’t meant to be here.
“Get out of your head.”
You pulled him forward and down the hall, Higgs gave some resistance but quickly followed. Flicking on the light, you pulled him into the small bedroom and turned to look at him again.
“Sleep.”
You moved right past him, now standing outside of the room while still watching him. He gazed around the BRIDGES-style private room, condensed into a small room. He set down his dufflebag onto the floor before looking back at you.
If you weren’t still angered about the terminal upstairs, you would have sworn to God that he looked to you for guidance.
“You’ll be safe here.”
He huffed out a laugh.
“I’ll never be safe as long as I breathe, sugar.”
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Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.
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elhnrt · 3 months
Text
songs i like recently
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rotworld · 6 months
Text
23: Breathless
(previous)
quiet moments and stillness leave you feeling uneasy and afraid. jamie and malachi help you relax.
->sexually explicit. contains body horror, parasites, threesome.
.
.
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“There is death in you,” the thing in the dark whispers. You are handled gently, like a broken bird in cautious fingers. Alien appendages, rippling frills and soft, flexible tendrils, graze against you. An eyelid, thin and translucent gray, flicks across the enormous, moon-like eye. “Slow, creeping death. Perhaps it can be healed.”
This is a dream like all the others. You can’t breathe or speak. Knowing that you could once, that you managed to dispel the crushing pressure and force air through your constricted throat, frustrates you but also gives you hope. There is a way. You just have to remember. 
Your eyes never fully adjust to this sort of darkness, but your other senses sharpen. You hear faraway voices; whispers and song, deep and mournful. You feel the movement of beasts that could swallow you whole, their mere passing knocking you aside. Stars trickle like falling snow. There is light if you know where to look, how to recognize it. Ribbons of it, fluttering like sails in the breeze. You struggle to understand how this could be home—how this could be Anchor. Was it hidden somehow? Cut away like Aliquando Island for its incurable strangeness? Somehow, somewhere, it still exists. You want to see it with your own eyes.
“Brave little thing. Yes, I want to see you, too. To feel you beyond the dream.” You are brought higher, lifted before the great eye. It is silver rimmed with prickling obsidian, a lightless void of dilated pupil stretched across the center. “I will hold you,” it says, auroras waving in the wake of a slow, upward movement, the moon rising and distant. “And I will never let you go.”
[NOW PLAYING ON THE RADIO: GHOST BY NOVAH FEAT. AMANDA MAIR]
You’re woken in the middle of the night. By what, you can’t say for certain. The house is quiet, but you do hear muffled, terse chatter drifting up from downstairs and music softly playing. The shift is vivid through the skylight window. You settle against the pillows and watch reality grow soft and shimmery like the surface of a bubble and other worlds swim by. You think about what Jamie told you about Higgs’ flukes, creatures who send their young beyond the boundaries of the only world they’ve ever known. Do they know what they’re doing? Do they ever wonder what becomes of their children, rocked to sleep in the cradle of their small, fragile eggs by the glistening churn of a shift? 
You wonder if they yearn for home, too. If there is a place in the Drift for every fluke, a strange patch of a grass or a quiet pond where this world intersected with another and birthed a miracle. 
Time passes and your thoughts are too busy to fall back asleep. You get out of bed groggily, passing the bookshelf on your way to the stairs. The photo of Malachi and the God of Nelton sits atop the shelf now, perched on a lace-edged doily and flanked by fresh cut, fragrant roses. The hallway at the bottom of the stairs is dark but the shift illuminates your way in quivering, luminous color. You’re reminded of your dreams—auroras in the dark. Has the place you come from ever passed by without you noticing, the void moving across the sky like a dark ghost ship? 
“I sent out warning letters earlier this evening, but I’m not sure how much good it’ll do,” you hear. Malachi’s voice, deliberately hushed. “I struggle to imagine a scenario where a municipal government would willingly shut off its own anchorware, no matter the risks.” 
You hear Jamie hum thoughtfully; the clatter of a teacup on a saucer. “It’s worth trying. I’m more skeptical the letters will reach their intended destinations in the first place.” 
“A Verlindan volunteered to deliver them. They have their own roads most places. A bit more reliable than ours.”
“Most, you said. No way to Anchor through the Verlindan backroads, then?” 
“Unfortunately, no. They’ve been cut off for a long time now. Makes me wonder how long they’ve been working towards this.”
They’re sitting in the living room, lights off, curtains open to let the alien glow of the shift through. You see Malachi out of his cassock for the first time, dressed in a soft, long-sleeved shirt and blue plaid pajama bottoms. He’s hunched forward in an armchair, leaning over the coffee table with a mug of steaming herbal tea in one hand. Jamie sits across from him on an olive-colored sofa, one bony shoulder exposed by their lopsided, oversized University shirt. They sip from a floral teacup while flipping through a pile of loose papers strewn across the table. There’s a radio sitting on the windowsill, crackling peacefully. 
Your footsteps draw a squeaking creak from the floorboards. Jamie and Malachi look up at the same time, their eyes drawn to your shape in the dark. “I’m so sorry. Did we wake you?” Malachi asks. 
You shake your head. “Can’t sleep. What’re you guys doing?” 
Jamie scoots over to make room for you on the couch. The papers they’re looking over are an assortment of official Nelton documents; anchorware installation paperwork and maintenance reports. “Grasping at straws,” Jamie admits. “Looking for any clue we can find. Getting to Anchor’s just the first hurdle. Everything’s going to be locked down tight.”
The most recent document is from your first visit to Nelton, the time you ran into Bachman. He was here, allegedly, to double-check the installation of new anchorware around the meat processing plant. He signed and dated the paperwork to verify everything was satisfactory. “What about this repairman?” you ask. “Does he seem strange to you? I can never quite remember what he looks like.” 
“That’s standard for anchorware technicians,” Malachi says. “They wear advanced shielding tech to stabilize themselves and protect against any sort of anchorware troubles.”
Jamie frowns. “His shielding is cranked up unusually high. We get a lot of repair techs at the University and they’re a little blurry at worst. He might be wearing more than usual, just in case he gets caught up in the malfunctions he’s causing. Then again, you said he hasn’t been here in a while. If you’re going to cause such a catastrophic reaction, it seems safer to do it remotely.”
They take another long gulp of tea and then set their cup down again, just a sliver of dark liquid lingering in the bottom. Malachi plucks the cup and saucer from the table and rises out of his seat gracefully. “Courier, would you like something to eat or drink? There’s lemon balm tea on the stove now. Jamie says you like eggs. I could make a frittata, if you’d like.”
You’re about to decline but Jamie nudges against your shoulder. “Just say yes. He won’t leave it alone,” they mutter, exasperated. “He wouldn’t sit down until I let him bring out half a bakery’s worth of scones and muffins.” 
“There were two of each, Jamie, and I seem to recall you ate them without complaint,” Malachi calls from the kitchen. You hear pots and pans clanging around, the sink running, a knife chopping swiftly across a cutting board. 
“You don’t have to go to all that trouble,” you say. 
The noises pause and Malachi leans out of the kitchen, smiling gently. “It’s no trouble, courier,” he says. “It’s our way here in Nelton. He didn’t want that to change, and neither do I.” 
The sounds of a busy kitchen resume; the crisp shredding of vegetables, the crack of egg after egg and the rhythmic hiss of whisking. Malachi starts humming a church hymn. “I’m surprised you’re getting along so well,” you say quietly. “I figured, after the last time we were here…”
Jamie rolls their eyes. “I’m not exactly thrilled about what happened, but I’d be a hypocrite if I held it against him, wouldn’t I? We have bigger problems and he’s willing to help. And he makes acceptable tea.” 
“I think you said it was incredible, actually. Some of the best you’d ever had,” Malachi calls. You can hear the smile in his voice. “You asked me for the recipe.” 
“I said it was fine.”
You can’t help but smile a little. It’s nice to have a quiet, peaceful moment, after everything that’s happened. But your thoughts return to darker places before you fully relax. You’re staring down what feels like countless unsolvable problems. Thumbing through the papers on the table, you’re reminded of Anchor’s reach, their stranglehold on the Drift. “How are we going to get in?” you ask.
Jamie gestures towards the kitchen. “They want to come with us; everyone who survived the fire. Malachi thinks they have a good shot of getting past the front gate that way. Anchor probably knew what was going on here, and I’m sure they know they got what they wanted. If all of Nelton turns up on their doorstep seeking asylum, they’ll let them in. It’s an irresistible research opportunity.” They sigh. “That’s assuming we can get there in the first place, of course.” 
You nod numbly. You don’t feel reassured. How many places are like Nelton now, ravaged by disaster? How many places are unreachable, adrift in time and space like Aliquando Island? You think of all the places you’ve been, the people who have shown you kindness. What will be left of them—of the Drift—when this is over? 
“Hey,” Jamie says softly. They reach over, wiping away your tears with their thumb. “It’s alright. We’ll figure it out. We’re not alone in this.” 
“I don’t want to think about it,” you admit. It’s all running through your head now; Glenn and Halvard and their family, and the virus ravaging Verlinda. A deliberate choice, you think, because the Verlindans use so little anchorware. Iridesce, who insisted that you be repaid for your work, who trusted you with the most precious cargo. The girl and the Singer and Compass Hill—is it still standing? Is everyone okay? Does it burn while you sit here? Is it collapsing, dragged into oblivion by a catastrophic failure of reality and physics? 
“Come here,” Jamie murmurs. “Let’s not think for a while.” They tug you gently closer, a hand brushing against your cheek as they lean in and press their lips against yours. You kiss back frantically, wanting to forget. The Road Ripper. The querrow. The fire in Nelton. An island of artists who can never go home again. You’ve stopped moving and now everything that’s happened has managed to catch up, claws of worry sinking in your heart.
Jamie demands your attention by pushing you down gently and crawling on top of you, setting a slow, sensual pace for the kiss. They nip at you, coaxing out your tongue with their own. Their hips grind down on yours, languid rocking motions that make you gasp into their mouth. “Jamie, we’re—” Your words cut off with a moan when their hands slip beneath your shirt and tease your nipples, thumbs flicking, rolling the buds between their fingers. “We’re on Malachi’s couch, he’s in the next room—”
“Then don’t make too much noise,” they whisper. Your shirt gets bunched up around your neck and their mouth is kissing down your chest, dragging their tongue over any spot that makes you squirm. You have to bite back a gasp when their mouth closes around one of your nipples and you feel not only their tongue but the fluke’s firm, flexible body flick against it. Both soft appendages toy with your sensitive flesh, tonguing and suckling, bullying it into hardness. Jamie watches you through their lashes, peering up at you with a heated look in their eyes. 
When they grind on you, you feel something twitch between their legs. A slender, snaking shape throbs against your core. 
“I love how sensitive you are. You just melt under me.” Jamie’s hand slides down and palms your sex through your clothes, rubbing and stroking until you push back against their fingers, panting. “I’ve been fantasizing about all the things we could do together. Dreaming about it, sometimes. I’ve never been with someone who knows about me—all of me. I want to hold you down and make you cry. I want you to eat me out and I want to fuck your throat. You have no idea how long a Higgs’ fluke can get once it’s fully grown, do you? It could be inside both of us at the same time.” 
Their hand slides into your pants and stroke up and down your sex, agonizingly slowly. The pressure is barely there and not enough, and then they’re moving on again, circling your entrance. They kiss your ear, sucking at the lobe. Their soft, pleased sigh tickles your skin. “C-can you…” You hesitate, embarrassed. 
“Can I…?” 
“Can you touch…my neck?” 
Jamie nuzzles against the side of your face, blowing softly into your ear. “You’re so cute.” One of their hands stays on your sex. The other rises, cupping around your neck. Jamie leans back so they can see what they’re doing, stroking the tender spots beneath your skin. “You want it? Want me to squeeze right here?” 
“Please,” you beg. You’re ashamed of how needy you sound already, how hot you feel. 
“Like that, baby?” They push down on both sides, thumb and fingers pinching both sides of your neck. The sudden pressure sends a bolt of pleasure down your spine and you shiver, a moan slipping out before you can stop it. Jamie pauses for just a moment. You see their eyes narrowing, a smile snaking across their face. They dig their fingers in harder, rhythmic, massaging squeezes that have you arching your back. The hand between your legs starts moving again, hard, merciless strokes that have you grinding shamelessly into their palm. 
You’re going to cum like this, still half-dressed and pushing your hips into Jamie’s playful touch. You feel yourself being driven right to the edge by the friction, Jamie’s dexterous fingers and their legs bracketing your body, the heated, husky whispers and tongue grazing your ear.
And then Jamie glances over the back of the couch, eyes half-lidded, smirking. “Are you just going to stand there, Malachi?” 
Heat rushes to your face. Of course he heard you. You want to get up and apologize but Jamie shoves you back down and keeps you there with a hand on your neck—playful, not choking, just enough force that you can feel it. You can’t see over the back of the couch but you can hear tense silence, the creak of floorboards beneath nervous shifting. 
“I’m…so sorry,” Malachi says hoarsely. “I didn’t—I shouldn’t have—”
“Are you just going to stand there?” Jamie asks. “Or are you going to come over here, and make your angel feel good?” 
You squirm again, trying to sit up, desperate to see Malachi and know what he’s thinking, if this is all too far and you’ve overstayed your welcome. But Jamie caresses your neck again and it takes everything you have not to make an embarrassing sound. 
You hear a shaky inhale. “Is that…what my angel wants?” 
Jamie glances down at you, their hands stilling long enough for you to get your thoughts in order. “What do you think, courier?” they ask softly. “Do you want us to help you stop thinking so hard?” 
You swallow hard. “Is Malachi okay with that?” 
You hear movement. Slow footsteps. Malachi comes into the living room and crouches beside the couch, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it reverently. You want him. You want them both. Jamie and Malachi share a brief glance and some shared understanding passes between them. “My bed would be more comfortable for the three of us,” he says, his voice lower than before. 
Malachi’s room is just down the hall. You have little time to appreciate the decor beyond the soft rug beneath your feet. They don’t give you time to stop, doubt and worry. Malachi leads you to the bed and eases you down slowly while Jamie sits above your head. You’re kissed breathless, the two of them working together to have you bare and writhing beneath them. Malachi undresses you like he’s unwrapping a priceless gift and Jamie’s hands smooth over your skin, sliding up and down your sides, caressing your hips, pressing a kiss to your shoulder blades when your shirt comes off and then laying you gently back down.
You can feel Jamie staring. Not at you, but at Malachi, everywhere he touches, everything he does to you. They chuckle. “Awfully bold for a man of the cloth.”
Malachi is between your legs, one hand massaging your inner thigh while the other digs through the bedside table. You hear a bottle click open. His fingers come back cool and slick. “Flesh is holy. Pleasure isn’t a sin,” he says. “I offer this sort of comfort to anyone in the congregation who asks. If you face me while you take pleasure from their mouth, I can show you.” 
“I guess overconfidence isn’t a sin either, huh?” 
Malachi smiles. He’s gentle and patient, sinking one finger into you and stretching you slowly. “I’ve been with you all this time, in a sense. As long as he was there, so was I. I saw what he saw, felt what he felt. I fell in love, just as quickly. So let me take care of you tonight, my angels.”
You relax under Malachi’s touch. He’s thorough, easily able to multitask. One hand moves in a slow, sensual slide over your chest and abdomen, his palm warm and his featherlight touch stirring unexpected pleasure across your skin. The other hand opens you up further, two fingers crooked and massaging your inner walls. Above the slick sound of Malachi’s lubricated fingers, you hear Jamie let out a soft, pleased sigh.
Nobody speaks, but they both move at the same time. Malachi withdraws his fingers and nudges your knees apart. He’s half-hard and stroking himself the rest of the way, biting his lip at nothing more than the sight of you splayed before him. He pulls your hips into his lap, your lower body slightly elevated and poised right against his twitching length. Jamie swings a leg over your head and settles on top of you, hovering just above your face. 
“Hands up here, courier,” they murmur, patting their thighs. “Two taps if you need to stop.” You take their advice. Jamie sinks slightly lower, resting most of their weight on their knees. The position is slightly awkward; with them facing Malachi, you don’t think you can reach their clit very easily. 
This isn’t a problem, as it turns out. Just as your hands settle into place, resting gently on their thighs, Jamie stiffens and moans. The fluke’s lower body protrudes from their entrance, its grasping limbs and tendrils nestling against Jamie’s clit and vibrating rapidly. 
“How is it when the two of you are involved?” Malachi asks curiously. He has a hand around his length and the other on your hips, guiding his tip inside of you. The first thrusts are slow, gentle, rocking motions that gradually sink deeper into your welcoming heat. 
“Indescribable,” Jamie says. “It’s like—like I feel everything twice. Everything is so sensitive.” You slide your tongue against Jamie’s folds and they sigh, encouraging you deeper with a slow grind. At the same time, the fluke pricks your lips. You give it an experimental lick and Jamie shivers. 
“You’re gorgeous together,” Malachi says softly. He holds onto your hips, keeping you firmly seated in his lap as he thrusts a little harder, a little faster. It’s not long before you’ve taken all of him and he savors the sensation, sinking in to the hilt and holding you there, his cock twitching against your inner walls. 
There’s a pause, one of his hands leaving your body. You hear skin stroking skin; his hand on Jamie’s cheek. It’s hard to believe they don’t still have some sort of connection. Nothing is said again, but after a moment of silence and stillness, you hear them kiss. It’s sloppy, tongue and teeth and swallowed moans, and you know the moment Malachi feels the fluke atop Jamie’s tongue because he flinches, startled—and then kisses them even more feverishly. Maybe no connection is needed. Maybe they’re just more alike than you thought, because they both starts to fuck you at the same time. 
Malachi’s hips slam into you and the fluke is opportunistic, slithering past your lips when you gasp. It doesn’t choke you or cram itself down your throat, but you feel that it wants to, the impatient slither of it against your tongue. It’s there, taking its pleasure while you please Jamie with your mouth. It thrusts in and out and you feel it pulsate, the segmentation along its body a strange but appealing texture against your tongue. It’s thicker than the part of itself that comes through Jamie’s mouth, less chitinous, more worm-like. You give it a gentle suck and Jamie rips away from Malachi just to praise you, whimpering, “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”
“Beautiful. Both of you, so beautiful,” Malachi says, sounding enraptured and breathless. He rolls his hips and rarely pulls out of you more than halfway, his deep, grinding pace hitting all the right spots. “If only you could stay, I would worship you like this every night.” You can hear yourself, the slap of Malachi’s hips against yours, the muffled moans you make around the fluke as it ravages your mouth. 
Your only warning that Jamie is about to cum is sudden tension in their thighs, more of their weight settling against your face. The fluke fills your mouth and your throat spasms gagging around it. Jamie nearly sobs, riding out their orgasm with harsh thrusts that drive the fluke deeper, and there’s a moment where you are completely, utterly full. 
“Fuck, that was amazing,” Jamie mutters. They collapse into bed beside you, smiling lazily as they wipe their juices from your cheeks. “Your turn, baby. Let me see you cum.” 
You’re close and you know Malachi’s not far behind. He’s losing his composure and careful gentleness, slamming into you harder. With your mouth unoccupied, he feels emboldened to surge forward and bend you nearly in half, hard, missionary style fucking with your legs wrapped around his waist. He mumbles incoherently and you catch only snippets, slurred worship and keening whispers of, “angel, my precious angel,” as he pounds you into the mattress. 
“Are you gonna cum, priest?” Jamie teases. Malachi answers with a groan. He’s losing his rhythm, thrusting mindlessly. His hips snap against yours and all you can hear is his ragged breathing, the slap of your bodies meeting. “Go on. Cum in your angel. Fill them up, give them everything.” 
Malachi crushes your lips with his, one last, desperate cry of “Angel!” muffled in the kiss, and you reach the edge. He fucks you through it mercilessly and you’re sobbing, toes curling, your nails raking his back. You don’t know how long he goes after that but it feels like you’re perched on the boundary between pleasure and pain for hours. Malachi trails his lips along your jaw and sucks on the side of your neck, and you think you cum again.
By the time your pulse has slowed and you’re aware of yourself again, no longer tingling and weightless, you’re surrounded by pillows. Jamie is curled up against your side and there’s a warm washcloth dabbing between your legs, soaking up some of the dried cum that trickled out and stained your thighs. You have to get up—have to get back to the guest room, you think—but Malachi chuckles and kisses your inner thigh.
“Get some rest, angel,” he whispers. For the first time in a while, you slide easily and willingly into a deep, restful sleep.
(next)
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callmeana2310 · 2 years
Text
Old Friends - College!Nick Nelson x female!Reader
Part (1/?) if you like this one?
Parts : Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |
Pairing: College!Nick Nelson x female!Reader
Warnings: mentioning of alcohol, light cussing, LGBTQAI+, mentioning of break ups, NO PROOFREADING, non-native in English! (Lemme know any mistakes, especially if anything is offensive in the slightest ways!!!)
Topics: friendship, crush, old friends meet again, party, bisexuals, music, soft cute cuddly Nick Nelson
Summary: After years the reader meets Nick Nelson at a LGBTQAI+ college party. They knew each other from Truham and Higgs and (Y/N) remembers her crush on him.
Word count: 812
Note: This is for the 20+ gang who also loved Heartstopper. Nick is in his mid 20s and the reader in her early 20s!
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(not my picture. All rights belong to the owner.)
Old Friends - Party
Arriving at the building I started questioning why again I agreed to go to this party. “C’mon Y/N/N Drop the face! I’m sure it’ll be fun!” my friend Emily said when she saw me frown. “I just don’t get why we have to go to a party where we literally have to put a label on us. God damnit! Everyone knows you are a lesbian!”, I laugh sarcastically. “And everyone knows you are bi! So?” I groaned annoyed, “I just hate it that someone forces me to label anything! Especially my sexuality!”
I gave in when a few more of our friends joined us. Entering the party I get handed a bracelet in pink, purple and blue with huge lettering that says “BISEXUAL” for everyone clearly to see. I roll my eyes while putting it around my wrist. “I need a drink to do this!”, I state before heading for the kitchen where drinks were handed out. I grab a drink, but before I can take a proper sip I hear that the song Girls/Girls/Boys by P!ATD starts and immediately hear how my friends scream my name, coming to get me to the dance floor. This is our anthem. Our bi anthem. At that moment I forget my grudge against all the labelling at this party. We dance and scream the lyrics at the top of our lungs. After a couple of songs, I leave the dance floor looking for a quieter place when I suddenly hear a slightly familiar voice calling my name. I turned around to see Nick Nelson in front of me. All-grown up in his mid-twenties, with the same haircut, the same soft brown eyes and some stubbles on his chin. 
“Oh my God! Nick! Nick Nelson!” we both laughed and he pulled me into a long hug. “I can’t believe it is really you! I heard your friends screaming your name and then saw you dancing!” he chuckles. “It really is! It is so good to see you!” I said with a big smile. “Look at you. You were a year 9 when I saw you last before I graduated Truham! How are you doing? What are you doing here?” he said while we continued walking towards the backyard. I nod “A year 9! Yes! God! It’s been years! I’m doing fine! I study here and my friends literally dragged me to this party! What are you doing here?”. He laughs and softly shakes his head, “You study here and you don’t know the captain of the university rugby team? What a shame! That is personal...” “Shut up! That is you?! I mean I knew you were good! And I knew some “Nick” dude is the captain....but OMG!” 
We sit down on a bench, continue talking and immediately click. He was an icon back in our home town, for his rugby skills but also for his outing as one of the first non-heterosexual boys at Truham. “You know Darcy and Tara are both here too, right?”, he asked. I nod “Yes Darcy and I have some seminars together! I can’t believe they never mentioned you!” He places his right hand on his chest, above his heart, and fakes a groan “I can’t believe they would do this to me!” We both laugh at his bad acting skills. “So.. Me, Darcy, Tara, You... Did I miss anyone else from home?” I paused for a moment “...Is Charlie here too?” I asked cautiously. He shakes his head “No. He went to another university after we broke up...” “Oh... sorry to hear...” I mumble. I really was. They were a precious couple and, like I said, ICONS back home. “No worries... It’s been a while.”, he says with a soft smile. I sigh on the inside, how I missed that soft smile. 
He takes my hand, inspecting my label bracelet, softly laughing “When did that happen Miss ‘I have the biggest crush on Harry Greene’?” I sigh! “Nick! That crush on Harry was years ago! Before I understood how he treated people!” “I still can’t believe this...” I roll my eyes jokingly directing the conversation back to the bracelet “I hate those labels! But...That is actually your fault... I didn’t even know what bisexuality meant back when you came out... I mean I was a kid...but I started to research LGBTQAI+ topics and then realised” I shrug. “Sorry?” he chuckles and lets go of my hand. “Nope, I’m happy and it was easier for all of us after you guys started it all...” He looked at me, his eyes soft and a small smile on his lips before he pulls me in for another hug “I’m really happy you are here!”. My inner 16-year-old me, who had the biggest crush on him, screamed in excitement. My heart pounded in my chest and I hoped the hug would last a while.
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soothinglee · 7 months
Text
intoxicated romance in paris
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summary: after taras party, everyone left leaving you drunk and very sleepy, luckily someone came in to check on you on a beautiful night in paris.
warnings: mentions of being sick, drunk-heavy-ish fic.
authors note: sorry i've been gone for a little bit, school started and ive been busy- plus i've had little motivation. but i am back! i have another tao request coming up so hopefully i'll have that done by the weekend. requests are open!ಇ
inspiration: impossible - wasia project | time machine - willow
pairing: tao xu x reader (no pronouns specified. though reader is mentioned to go to higgs.)
masterlist | request
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you could honestly kill darcy right now. it’s not like she did anything intentionally illegal but stealing a bottle of vodka and pouring it down each party goers throat; it catered to the massive headache stirring in your head.
everyone had departed to mr. ajays room to take care of her after she felt sick. you lay limp and alone in the hotel room. party streamers and confetti lie around your body like an outline, balloon slowly fall to the ground after hours of stillness and lack of oxygen. there was a soft purple glow of the beautiful paris street lights from below, and you can faintly hear the honking of cars on the road- all going to unique locations.
as much as you tried to roll over to check the time on your phone you find yourself still. fatigue from exhaustion creek in your bones, making the nauseous feeling creeping up push forward. at the sudden sickness you throw yourself forward and try to stabilize yourself on the knitted sheets.
behind the thoughts of trying to keep the sick in you didn't even realize that someone had knocked on the door until that person had turned the handle with a click, the noise echoing throughout the empty room.
"hello hello?" the voice called out, growing nearer. when there was no response they speak again, "hello?"
the only response you could give back was a disgruntled grunt.
"[y/n]?" the boys voice questions, rounding the corner of the entrance way to see you hunched over ontop of the bed. you hadn't known but your hair was sticking up in several places and the crocheted sweater that you wore was hanging off your shoulder on one side. he huffs out a laugh and nears you. "you alright?"
again a grunt.
he lays his phone on the nightstand next to the bed and kneels down next to you, "you look sick, did you drink too much?"
"i'm going to hurt darcy, respectfully." the words come out in broken pieces, but behind the words was a little lighthearted humor. deep down you knew she meant well but oh my god this feeling is gross.
"well don't hurt her too much, she already got sick in mr. farouks' bed. the look on his face could've killed her alone." tao shakes his head at the thought and reaches up to smooth down the back of your head. the feeling of his hand on your hair ignited something warm in you.
you decided it was just because you were drunk.
"did she actually?"
"oh yeah," he laughs lightly and goes to fix your clothes, "she looked like she was going to pee herself, he kicked all of them out."
confusion passes over you, "then where are they?" you were still in their rooms and it's been a good 30 minutes since they last were here.
tao hums and picks at his nails, "they decided to have a sleep over in imogens room, she's only with one other person but her roommate wanted to hangout in her friends room for the night."
you nod and look off but then direct your attention back to him, "wait," you watch as he glances at you then diverts his attention back to his hands, "then why are you here?"
as a reminder, tao jerks up and starts throwing around blankets and items on the other nightstand in a haphazard manner, "oh- yeah, well um- tara had asked me to come back and look for her phone because she needed to text her mom goodnight," he then adds a "yeah." at the end as if he's trying to convince himself of his own words.
while you watch him practically destroy the room your face goes blank with realization, "tao." he hums in acknowledgment but his movements don't cease, "taras' phone isn't in here, she took it with her when she left the party with everyone. and even if you called it it would've rang on this bed," you make your point by slamming a finger into the sheets, "because this is where she was sitting all night."
as if being caught red-handed, tao slowly stands up, the pillow falling from his hands slowly, "oh." was the only thing that came out.
pushing past the fatigue you swing your legs over the edge of the bed so your feet was mere inches from his legs, "so tell me the truth," you huffs out a short breath, "why are you really here? was it to check up on me?" you remark sarcastically. you know it's probably not the truth but hope dances on your tongue tastefully.
quite surprisingly, he nods his head. "i knew you were alone so i figured i'd check in, make sure you didn't spit up on yourself or something." in other words, i cared enough to go out of my way away from the others to make sure you weren't dead.
again, another wave of confusion, "but why?"
tao groans playfully and body flops on the bed, his hair splayed out around his head like a halo, "why are you so coherent, you're supposed to be drunk!"
a slurred giggle escapes you, "oh trust me, i feel just as bad as i look. i just didn't have as much as the other." you pause and hiccup, "can i ask another question?"
"[y/n]-? and i mean this lightheartedly, all you do is ask questions." but he makes a gesture with his hands as if to give the go ahead.
you lean in and whisper, "why are you still here?" a playful smile twitches at your lips. he lifts his head up to look at you, his hair falling in his eyes.
tao rolls his eyes and copy's your position, the beds were close to eachother so the two of you were inches from touching knees. he takes a look at you and you cower a little under his gaze, but not too much. tao goes to speak but stops himself, you lightly kick his leg in encouragement, "because i want to be near you."
that nearly winds you- feeling a little appreciation for being intoxicated because without it as a cover the red huge on your cheeks would be a give away.
you look away from him and towards the balcony, the door open to it let a soft breeze float through the room. you suddenly want to be out there. so without a response towards his comment you reach out your arms towards tao and silently point towards the doors.
he seems a little sad at the conversation change but obliges, "what? you want to go outside?"
you nod feeling a little sicker than before, "wanna see the Eiffel Tower." he nods and takes your hands in his, gently hoisting you up into his arms. his warm body heat makes you feel sleepy, and the over whelming feelings all at once doesn't even let you register that you were holding his hands, let alone in his arms.
slowly but surely he turns you around so your back is to his chest and he carries you on his toes to the balcony. it takes a while because every step he takes you loose your balance and have to regain it.
as you take a step outside a wave of fresh dew air hits you and at the feeling you close your eyes and lean back into tao. he chuckles at the action.
being outside at night, being in paris- an unfamiliar but welcoming presence, being with, no, against tao, especially alone for the first time in the 6 years you've been friends, this could be the best night ever.
the feeling is all too sentimental, whether it's the alcohol doing it's damage or being in the city of love you can't help but sigh and look up at tao with big bright eyes. it takes him a moment because like you too, he was watching the city come alive, and as you make eye contact he smiles with hesitancy, "what?"
it had been clear as day for the longest time but for some reason, right here right now, despite what everyone has been telling you, you had liked him too. it just took you now to figure it out. you lean against him once more and let out a deep sigh,
"i like being near you too."
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thanks for readingಇ
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trumpkinhotboy · 3 months
Text
'Coming out'
Pairing: Isaac x aroace!fem!reader, reader x the gang
Type: Request (thank you so much!!)
Warnings: none?
Word count: 2k
Requests: Open for twilight wolfpack, heartstopper and narnia
A/n: loved loved loved writing this little thing <3 it’s a good reminder to be kind and respect people’s journey xxx
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Summary: The reader meets Isaac and finds in him an amazing friend. They will accompany each other through their self-discovery journeys. Although Isaac might need some help explaining it all to the rest of his friends…
You first met Isaac at one of your favorite corner bookshops. It was an old vintagey building loaded with books. It was a labyrinth of nooks and crannies filled with beautiful stories and cozy reading spots scattered around the shop. You were both so caught up in the book you were reading you failed to notice the other walking straight in your direction.
As you'd imagine, you kinda knocked each other out and almost destroyed the precious piles of books stacked in a nearby corner. You looked up to the soft traits of the person before you and felt something click. When we talk about love at first sight, we usually refer to romantic love, but people often forget about platonic love. Or as you liked to call it, the discovery of a soulfriend. The rest became history.
You realized Isaac went to Truham, not so far from your school, Higgs. Instantly, your love for books brought you together, as well as all the other things you had in common, such as your sarcastic humor, your unending curiosity for learning new things, and your journeys of self-discovery. You were proudly a part of the LGBTQ+ community after you figured out you didn't feel attraction the same way other people did. You will always remember the first time you stumbled across the words "aromantic" and "asexual". It felt incredible to find yourself in those descriptions. It felt like finally coming home.
Isaac asked you many questions and always showed a lot of interest in it. You had a feeling these queries had a deeper purpose than only getting to know you better. It turns out you were right when one day, as you were out to get some ice cream, he expressed his struggle with his sexual identity. He blurted it out and didn't add a thing, so you only said: "Cool, if you ever want to talk about it more, you know I'm here," and hugged him.
It wasn't until later that night that he told you everything about how conflicted he felt sometimes with his friends. Seeing them all so in love, and how in every book he ever read, that same love was everywhere. You talked until early morning, and it is still, to this day, one of your favorite moments you spent with Isaac.
You realized you were in the same class as three of his friends, Tara, Darcy, and Elle. You already were quite friends with Darcy, but through her, you got to know the rest of the girls better. That's how you started hanging with the rest of the gang. It was easy to understand why Isaac spoke so much about them and so highly. They were an amazing bunch, and each moment you spent with them made you even more aware of it. Still, that's also how you understood why Isaac sometimes felt irritated and confused about his sexual identity. They were all coupled up, and they all made adorable pairs. You were also painfully made aware of that fact when they started making jokes about Isaac and you being a couple.
They never said anything to your face, but you sometimes heard it before you joined them or simply because Isaac told you about it. At first, it felt funny since you and Isaac knew the truth behind those allegations. You were confident with your sexual identity, and you didn't feel the urge to correct them every time. Mainly since you knew it would maybe create some questions for Isaac. So you kept your mouth shut and respected when he asked you not to say anything.
As time went on, you noticed the change in Isaac's attitude toward them. You were walking home together from a movie night with the gang. Not so subtly, they encouraged Isaac and you to sit by each other and kept giving you 'privacy'. You ended up leaving early because he was mad and irritated, even if his friends didn't quite catch that and only thought their antics had created something between the two of you.
"Listen, I know you don't want to tell them anything, but…" "I told you it's fine." "Yeah, but the thing is that it isn't. Isaac, you're starting to get irritated and annoyed around your friends for any little thing. I know it can be daunting, but I think they would be super comprehensive and supportive if you told them you were still figuring yourself out. They're not acting like that to hurt you. They just don't know anything about it, and you haven't given them the chance to react or educate themselves."
You walked silently for a while. You could see through his demeanor that he was slowly processing everything you said. You stopped in front of your house and looked at him. "Listen, I'm sorry if what I said hurt you I-" "No, you're right. I think it's time I told them. I've just been so scared. I don't know how to do this." You felt your heart well up with compassion for what your friend was going through. After all, it wasn't that long ago you were entrapped with the same insecurities. "You don't have to do this alone. I can help you if you want, and you know I'll always be there to support you."
A few days later, Isaac suggested you all have another movie night. You spent the previous day talking and deciding on a very tight schedule and plan for him to do his coming out. Everything would have to be perfect.
Everybody showed up, and the night went as planned. Except when the time came for Isaac to tell them, he flaked and proposed a game of truth or dare. You stared at him curiously, knowing he absolutely hated that game, but his panicky stare was enough to tell you, 'Go with it. I'm not ready yet.' So you put a bright smile on your face and showed the best enthusiasm you could muster.
The game was going smoothly. The dares and questions were actually fun. It was nice to get to know everyone better through this game. That is until the dares and questions seemed to be heading in a certain direction. It started with Tara asking you if you were into someone. Then, with Charlie daring you to kiss someone on the cheek. Not thinking about it, you kissed Isaac familiarly. You knew it was the wrong thing to do as soon as they all cooed and started to exchange knowing looks. You could feel Isaac tense up, so you quickly moved on to the next person. That's when the damned bottle landed on him.
"Uh, truth, I guess." Second mistake. Darcy jumped on the occasion without wasting a second. "Do you like someone in this room?" He stared at her. Without saying a word, he debated whether this was the time. "You have to answer! It's the rules." she giggled, painfully unaware of how much discomfort she was putting her friend in. Isaac's continued silence started to unnerve the rest of the gang. Finally, they were catching up to the underlying tension in the room. Darcy wanted to add something when Tara quickly shut her up with a killing look.
"Maybe we can choose another question? Or switch to a dare?" you started, trying anything to diffuse the pressure. Despite Darcy's protests, the rest of the group agreed with quick nods when suddenly Isaac exploded. "No! I'm tired of this." "It's okay. We can change the game if you're over it," suggested Elle, her gaze darting nervously to her boyfriend. "No! That's not it, it's not the game. I'm tired of lying." "I knew it! Y/n and you already are a couple," exclaimed Darcy.
You honestly loved the girl, but she could be so oblivious sometimes. Luckily, with the look Isaac leveled at her, she seemed to understand she couldn't be more wrong.
"Y/n and I are not a couple. We couldn't be anything farther from that. She doesn't view people like that." Six pairs of eyes turned in your direction. You gave them an uncomfortable smile with your thumbs up, unsure how to react to what was happening. "And- and I don't know if I do either. First, you guys kept pushing for me to be with James. Then, when I exploded about that, you stopped. Only to start doing it again when I introduced you to Y/n. I'm so tired of you thinking that when I talk to someone, it must mean I'm interested in them romantically. Aren't I allowed to have other friends? Aren't I allowed to not like people romantically?" He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them again, he seemed more grounded. His friends kept staring in silence, knowing this was important. "I'm not sure what my sexuality is, but I would like to have the space to explore it without always feeling pressured to be in love. But that's hard to do when all you're talking about is matching me with someone. These thoughts have been even more confusing lately, especially with what happened with James." He paused and looked at you, this time with a warmth in his gaze. "Then I met Y/n, and it felt so amazing to be able to talk with someone about being aromantic and asexual. I never met anyone like her, and it felt so good to be given the space to question myself freely." His eyes went back to each of his friends' faces. "To get all worked up and annoyed without even telling you what I was feeling wasn't fair to you guys, but I'm trying to figure myself out. I know I'm not attracted to people the way you all are, and it just really sucks that you've been all pestering me about it. Fine. You couldn't know, but we act like we are all so open-minded and considerate of LGBTQ+ folks, but haven't we learned anything? We should not make guesses about people's sexual identities. We should leave them alone to figure it out. All I need from you guys is support in that."
His cheeks and ears had turned red from his passionate monologue, and it was when he finished that he took a final breath, finally letting go of everything bottled up inside his mind for so long. Everyone sat there, shocked. Tao, Elle, and Darcy with their mouths slightly opened. Not because of what Isaac had told them but because of how he did. He usually was passive and avoided any form of confrontation. They all realized guiltily it must have been heavy on him to create this outburst. The silence stretched for a few seconds as if time had stopped. You gave your friend a proud smile before you concluded with a: "Yeah, basically what he said."
The sound of your voice seemed to awaken them from their trance. "So Y/n," picked up Nick, "you're aromantic and asexual?" You nodded with a smile, "You can also say aroace. Sounds cooler, in my opinion." You winked at him, happy to see the relief etched on his freckled face as he realized you weren't mad in any way at them.
"Isaac, I'm so sorry. I have been downright horrible to you. I assure you it was never in any way meant to hurt you. I should have been better. I will be better," spoke up Darcy. For once, the mischievous light in her eyes disappeared, replaced with seriousness. "I know what it feels like to be confused and feel pressured. I'm so sorry I didn't realize that's what I've been doing to you." She reached for his hand, which he gladly took, a smile slowly growing on his lips.
"I know you didn't mean it Dar, but I appreciate your apologies. As I said, I also wasn't the best communicator. I could have told you guys earlier and avoided all of this."
"Hey, you should never have to say anything if you're not ready to. We understand that, and we will all do better," added Nick with a quick look around the gang. Everybody nodded and smiled reassuringly at Isaac.
"And thank you, Y/n, for supporting Isaac and being there while we were being complete duds." Charlie stretched his hand to you, a timid invitation to be an official part of the group. "You're awesome. We're glad Isaac met you and introduced you to us."
You felt emotion flare inside your chest as Isaac wrapped his free arm around your shoulders. "You guys can be pestering and oblivious little pricks, but I love you all to death." Everyone linked up like a little human chain, either holding hands, touching, or wrapping one another in a hug.
Tao grabbed a handful of candy and passed it around so everyone had a piece. "Well, I suggest we end this with a toast. To Isaac, to Y/n, to self-discovery, and to holding each other accountable!"
You all repeated his toast with bright smiles and cheered before gobbling down your candies in a comical promise to do better for each other.
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