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hd-wireless · 4 years

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🎶 H/D WIRELESS FEST - REVEALS 🎶

At last, the day you’ve been waiting for! It’s the REVEALS!

Come check out the talented people who created your favourite Wireless fics and artworks!

Massive thanks once again to all the 54 creators of our 64 works (yes some people created multiple works! Special mention to cloudlesslysky who wrote FIVE fics!). And thanks also to all the readers, betas and supporters of H/D Wireless! It’s been a bumper year!

Without further ado...

🎶 H/D Wireless Art 🎶

📻 Stuck on the Bridge Between Us (G) by pygmy_puffy @pygmy-puffy

🎵 Song prompt: Talk Me Down by Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: finding the courage within themselves to be vulnerable, so they can stop hurting the other and start loving each other as they so deeply want and need to

📻 So Let's Dance, Take a Chance, Understand Me (T) by Dazed_and_Inked @dazedandinked

🎵 Song prompt: T.Rex, Get It On

🎵 Summary: The War is over and everything has changed.

After a few of years of travelling around the world, Harry decided to move to Muggle London, looking for peace and a place where the scar on his forehead doesn’t have a meaning. His new flat is in a perfectly normal neighbourhood close to the centre, quiet during the day but full of students at night.

He really likes the small bar down the road, a place that serves cheap, awful drinks and plays good old classics. It’s always crammed with people talking, laughing or dancing along with the riff of electric guitars.

From the first time he crossed the threshold, Harry thought it was perfect, the right mix of noise and warmth to be alone without feeling alone. Just what he needed.

He couldn’t imagine that someone else was there for the very same reason, looking for a place where the Dark Mark was only a tattoo.

Blame it on the alcohol, on the music or whatever you want, but when Harry’s eyes landed on Draco’s slim figure, swaying on the dancefloor, something warm and inexplicable possessed him.

📻 The Pass (T) by julchen_in_red @julcheninred

🎵 Song prompt: The Pass, by Rush

🎵 Summary: Draco, lost in darkness, seeks a guiding light.

📻 If you knew… (T) by gnarf @gnarf

🎵 Song prompt: Young Folks from Peter Bjorn and John

🎵 Summary: The war had left scars on all of them. Some were obvious. Some only if they looked closely. But the worst ones were those they couldn't see. Those that were hidden inside.

📻 an ode to the boy i love (G) by nettleforest @nettleforest

🎵 Song prompt: Animal - Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: an evocation of vulnerability, trust and tenderness

📻 Home Sweet Home (G) by gnarf @gnarf

🎵Song prompt: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

🎵 Summary: In the middle of a Zombie apocalypse Harry made it his main goal to find a safe home for Draco and himself.

📻 Turn back time (T) bt erlasart @erlasart

🎵 Song prompt: If I Could Turn Back Time - Cher

🎵 Summary: Draco's had a rough few years, if that's what you call falling in with a bad lot, attempted murder and a close brush with death. Now facing the weight of his misdeeds, Draco tries to pinpoint when it all went wrong.

📻 Time to Get Out (T) by SoldSeperately @secretartlair

🎵 Song prompt: My House - PVRIS

🎵 Summary: A few years post-war, Pansy convinces Draco to go on a night out at a muggle club. They run into some familiar faces.

🎶 H/D Wireless Art and Fic 🎶

📻 A Different Kind of Meaning (E, 17k) by p103 @p103 (art by Zigster)

🎵 Song prompt: Outnumbered - Dermot Kennedy

🎵 Summary: The ceiling doesn't hold any answers, but there are cobwebs scattered across the corners with shadows tangled in their threads. The rug against his back is rough and scratchy, threadbare and devoid of colours other than various shades of brown. Harry takes it all in, absorbs the dingy and depressed state of his home. There's a pointed moment of decision, a note about to be played, a silence about to end, and then he rolls to his feet and sets to cleaning.

It's the first constructive thing he's done in years.

📻 Keep Holding On (M, 33k) by gnarf @gnarf (fic) and MaesterChill @maesterchill (art)

🎵 Song prompt: Welshly Arms - Sanctuary

🎵 Summary: After the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry and Draco both fall into their own battles with their mental states. Draco is sent to Azkaban, and Harry turns to drinking, hoping to forget.

Months later, Harry visits St Mungo’s new ward on request of a friend, only to find Draco in a deep vegetative state.

Not willing to give him up, Harry stays by his side, while simultaneously dealing with the Ministry's newest grand idea to make everything worse.

Making new alleys, and losing old ones on the way, would hopefully be worth it in the end.

📻 Fic : Modern Love (E, 61k) by tackytiger @tackytigerfic

📻 Art : Our Love Song (G) by chachisoo @creeeee

🎵 Song prompt: Modern Love by David Bowie

🎵 Fic summary: Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

And it really doesn’t seem fair that Draco Malfoy is back in Harry’s life, all of a sudden, and even though he’s wandless, and living with Muggles, and making his mother cry with his lifestyle choices, he’s happy. So what's he doing right, that Harry isn’t?

Because things don’t really change, do they? And if Harry can’t be happy, he’ll settle for a good night’s sleep, some posh antiques, and the opportunity to find out what Malfoy has been up to for all these years.

And that’s what starts it all.

🎵 Art summary: Harry and Draco enjoying a Sunday morning bus ride in London.

📻 For the Thousandth Time (T, 14k) by bluefay @thesleepiesthufflepuff (fic) and mehroomiyat (art)

🎵 Song Prompt: Lucky by Aurora

🎵 Summary: When Draco's wand refuses to work after the war, he turns to Harry for help.

📻 Fic : Returning Tides (E, 24.5k) by Zigster @zigster-ao3

📻 Art : Love Will Tear Us Apart (G) by Zigster @zigster-ao3

🎵 Song prompt: Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division

🎵 Fic summary:

Is my timing that flawed? Our respect run so dry? Yet there's still this appeal That we've kept through our lives

🎵 Art summary: Art piece to accompany the fic ‘Returning Tides’, based on the song claim, 'Love Will Tear Us Apart' by Joy Division ***** Harry's brooding while straddling a motorbike. Need I say more?

📻 That Sweet Sweet Craving (E, 33.2k) by TheUltimateUndesirable @ultimateundesirable

🎵 Song prompt: Bleeding Out by Imagine Dragons

🎵 Summary: Harry is miserable living a lie because he thinks being a gay role model is wrong. Fake dates raising money for a charity that ends up putting him in a situation he had never expected. Draco Malfoy appears back in his life by some odd chance trying to flip his world upside down and he isn't sure it's a good thing. Malfoy always worked that way to him. Mental health issues, sex, escaping, and that sweet sweet craving of happiness.

🎶 H/D Wireless Fic 🎶

📻 Follow the Water (T, 38.2k) by xanthippe74 @xanthippe74

🎵 Song prompt: “Follow the Water” by Calexico/Iron & Wine

🎵 Summary: Harry Potter’s life is fine. Maybe a little dull and predictable, but he shouldn’t complain about that, right? When he unexpectedly finds himself at Luna’s house one afternoon, Harry gets invited to join the secret wonderland that she’s creating with a surprising group of friends. Maybe a summer outdoors is just what a former hero needs to bring some zest back into his life.

📻 Life goes not backward (T, 8.8k) by shealwaysreads @shealwaysreads

🎵 Song prompt: Daughter by Loudon Wainwright

🎵 Summary: Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different.

A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

Leaving one life behind isn’t always a sacrifice, and sometimes the greatest good comes from embracing the people you love.

📻 The Way We Used To Love (E, 5.3k) by Zzzara @big-draco-energy

🎵 Song prompt: 'Used to Love' by Martin Garrix & Dean Lewis

🎵 Summary: Is there hope when what is not enough for the one happens to be too much for the other?

📻 but if you close your eyes (T, 3.3k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: Pompeii by Bastille

🎵 Summary: The New Magic Order is trying to take over Wizarding Britain. They're not the Death Eaters, but they're not any better either.

The lines of alliance have shifted, but Harry is still on the front lines working tirelessly to stop them.

📻 Haunt the corner of my eye (T, 23k) by harryromper @harryromper

🎵 Song prompt: Echoes of You - Marianas Trench

🎵 Summary: Harry’s life is very much on track. After a successful career as an Auror, he’s set to become the youngest ever Minister for Magic. But strange things are starting to happen at Grimmauld Place. Items he doesn’t recognise are appearing left and right, and somehow he never feels quite alone. There’s only one thing Harry knows for sure: it has something to do with Draco Malfoy.

📻 Now that the spring is in the air (T, 5.7k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: Seasons in the Sun by Westlife

🎵 Summary: A surprise attack in Diagon Alley leaves Draco struggling to make peace with the fact that he won't live long enough to experience his own wedding.

📻 Seven Days to Monday (M, 11.7k) by static_abyss @static_abyss

🎵 Song prompt: Say Something - A Great Big World

🎵 Summary: There are seven days before Harry has to meet Draco for the final signing of their divorce papers. It's been months and the surprise at finding nothing but more cold sheets and an empty pillow next to him still catches Harry unaware. He doesn't know where they go from here. Whether it's possible to go anywhere after everything that's happened between them.

📻 Blond Brew (E, 30.4k) by MicheleBlack @micheleblack

🎵 Song prompt: “Blondes” by Waterparks

🎵 Summary: A blond roast with soy milk makes Draco's morning, but a pair of green eyes makes his week.

📻 A Series of Nonsensical Events (T, 12.8k) by CoffeeCurse @coffee-curse

🎵 Song prompt: My Gospel by Charlie Puth

🎵 Summary: Malfoy is up to something. When Harry and the other Aurors are called into a Gringotts break-in and find him the culprit, Harry’s at a total loss.

But things only get weirder from then on.

📻 Ignore the Truth (E, 2.6k) by static_abyss @static_abyss

🎵 Song prompt: Dangerously - Charlie Puth

🎵 Summary: "Longtime on-again-off-again lovers Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were caught in a compromising position in one the Ministry's lifts yesterday evening. While fans of the couple are optimistic, there's still doubt as to whether or not this particular reconciliation will last. When asked directly about the nature of his relationship with Draco Malfoy, the Boy Who Lived had simply this to say, 'Fuck right off, we're busy.'"

- The Daily Prophet, "Love Is In The Air," 28th Oct. 2005.

📻 Your Daddy Knows (You're A Flame) (E, 27.8k) by Ladderofyears @ladderofyears

🎵 Song prompt: Babyfather by Sade (2010)

🎵 Summary: It's just over a week until Draco's twenty-fifth birthday party and Harry Potter is a busy wizard. Amongst all the excitements of fatherhood, work and friends, Harry realises something special about his husband Draco. He is pregnant with their second, much wanted baby.

There's only one problem: Draco is entirely oblivious to the fact and seems determined to remain so.

📻 Don't search me in here (E, 6.7k) by Sassy3 @sassy-sassy3

🎵 Song prompt: Gone - Charlie XCX & Christine and the Queens

🎵 Summary: Draco spotted him in a corner, crowded by Ministry employees. He looked like an animal, trapped in a cage. He had a strained smile on his , and his eyes were looking everywhere else than on the people in front of him.

Draco can’t quite help himself, watching Potter from afar. Just out of curiosity, of course. He’s happy with his life, nothing is missing, and if he’s lonely it’s entirely by choice.

📻 I Can Be Your Lighthouse (T, 4k) by orpheus87

🎵 Song prompt: The Lighthouse by The Used

🎵 Summary: When Harry gets called to investigate reports of Dark magic, the last thing he expects to find is an almost unconscious Draco Malfoy. After multiple instances, he resolves to find out what's going on.

📻 Drop Everything Now (T, 21k) by parkkate @parkkate

🎵 Song prompt: Sparks Fly by Taylor Swift

🎵 Summary: After accidentally bonding himself to Malfoy, Harry finds himself in an utterly precarious situation…

📻 No one fucks with us (T, 3.3k) by Laura_Sinele @laurasinele

🎵 Song prompt: NFWMB by Hozier

🎵 Summary: Draco Malfoy wonders for how long has Harry Potter been a terrifying force of nature. Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy has been a badass MF all along. If the world has to end so they can have some peace and quiet, be it. They'll set it on fire.

📻 Will You Stay with Me? (M, 10.2k) by EvAEleanor @eva-eleanore

🎵 Song prompt: ‘Run’ - Daughter

🎵 Summary: Ten months ago, Draco had found none other than Harry Potter blindly drunk and bleeding outside a Muggle pub. He'd brought him home and hasn't left his side ever since. He looked after him, took care of him when yet another nightmare plagued him.

Harry is sure that Draco will leave him at some point, and he can’t let it happen. He can’t have another person leaving his life unexpectedly. So, Harry forces him to leave — after they spend one last night together.

📻 until the sun has changed the colour of my hair (T, 4.9k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: Jag saknar dig mindre och mindre - Melissa Horn

🎵 Summary: Draco's life has been one big mess ever since Potter broke up with him. He doesn't want to see his friends, he's too ashamed to see his parents, and his apartment is one giant mess. He's constantly prepared for disaster, and spends his time either alone in Muggle parks or in his apartment. But one day... One beautiful day... He will forget Harry, surely.

📻 Love Found (E, 7.5k) by peachpety @peachpety

🎵 Song Prompt: I Found, by Amber Run

🎵 Summary: During Harry’s sixth year, Draco Malfoy joins the Order as a double-agent and continues with his task to get the Death Eaters into the castle as assigned by Voldemort. Draco succeeds with his mission the evening Harry returns from the caves with Dumbledore. The boys reunite on the Astronomy Tower and, with the Death Eater’s arrival, are forced to engage in a fight, driving Harry to come to terms with his feelings about true friendship and romantic love.

📻 On the Third Day He Took Me to the River (M, 14.4k) by pixiedustatsundown @pixiedustatsundown

🎵 Song prompt: 'Where the Wild Roses Grow - Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds ft. Kylie Minogue'

🎵 Summary: This is a story of two lonely young men falling in love.

This is a story about dreams and duty, about witches that give purpose to the one and doom the other.

You think you know how the story goes, but this is a different story, and it doesn't end well.

📻 (When They Only Hear You Whisper) I'll Be Loud For You (T, 2.8k) by VeelaWings @veelawings

🎵 Song prompt: There for You - Martin Garrix/Troye Sivan

🎵 Summary: Potter must have been having nightmares again. He was restless in his bed across the room. Moonlight shone through his open bed curtains and highlighted the contours of his body, the grimace on his face blatant. His thick blanket was kicked down, one leg still covered by his twisted sheet, the musk of his sweat pungent in their small dorm. Low grunts accounted for the majority of the noise he made, but it was peppered by the occasional groan or unclear shout of words. However, ‘No,’ was always clear.

Draco hated it.

📻 The Interview (T, 17.3k) by Cibee (Cibeeeee) @cibeewastaken

🎵 Song prompt: Just Say Yes - Snow Patrol

🎵 Summary: One interview had Draco realizing how naïve he was for thinking he deserved Harry.

📻 Lookalike (M, 1.4k) by Zzzara @big-draco-energy

🎵 Song prompt: 'Lookalike' by Conan Gray

🎵 Summary: When you look in his eyes, Do you think of mine? And when you look at that smile, Do I cross your mind? I know in your head You see me instead 'Cause he looks a lot like I did back then Baby, don't lie, He's just a lookalike... ©

📻 As Fascinating As a Slap Bracelet (T, 13.2k) by acupforslytherin @acupforslytherin

🎵 Song prompt: Have It All - Jason Mraz

🎵 Summary: Who would have thought that a wacky little Muggle toy would lead to an unlikely friendship between Harry and Draco? Not Harry, certainly.

Who would have thought that this friendship would bloom into something more? Well, Ron, for one.

📻 If Sex Is the Drug, Then What Is the Cost (E, 3.8k) by EvAEleanor @eva-eleanore

🎵 Song prompt: I Almost Told You That I Loved You - Papa Roach

🎵 Summary: For quite some time, Harry has been seeing Malfoy. Well... Actually, he's hired Malfoy, to keep him company, in his bedroom. It's only sex — honestly — and since Malfoy is the best, he's the only person Harry wants. That's all it is, right?

📻 I Grow Fonder Every Day (M, 21.6k) by Drarrelie @drarrelie

🎵 Song prompt: One and Only by Adele

🎵 Summary: Draco still doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, sharing a flat in Muggle London with Harry Potter.

It’s all Draco’s ever wanted — more than he’d ever wished for. And if it entails suppressing his inconvenient feelings for the man, so what? He’s perfectly happy with his life as it is, perfectly content with just having Potter close and enjoying his company.

That is, until one Friday evening at the beginning of April when the end starts.

📻 How Can I Live Without you? (G, 2.2k) by ununquadius @ununquadius

🎵 Song prompt: "So Far Away", by Avenged Sevenfold

🎵 Summary: After Draco's death, Harry wonders how can he live without the one he loves when he's so far away.

📻 Following the Arrow to Your Heart (E, 10.9k) by goddessofthehearth

🎵 Song prompt: Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran

🎵 Summary: After the war, Draco is recruited into the Department of Love (aka Cupid's Arrow). His job is to bring together witches and wizards whose magical signatures are only compatible with each others' (essentially soulmates). As they all learned during training, Cupids are chosen because they do not have soulmates.

Six years later, Draco's convinced himself that he's perfectly fine with not having a soulmate. But his latest client turns out to be Harry Potter, and he's forced to reconsider in light of his old feelings.

📻 cos I only need your name to call the reasons why I fought (T, 6.6k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: War, by Poets of the Fall

🎵 Summary: Ron and Hermione leave the Horcrux hunt, leaving a hurt Harry behind.

But at least Draco is still there with him.

📻 Madness (M, 10k) by tigersilver

🎵 Song prompt: House of Fun by Madness

🎵 Summary: A desperate search for contraception all around Diagon Alley.

📻 Between Myth and Man (E, 16.2k) by slytherco @slytherco

🎵 Song prompt: Why'd you only call me when you're high? - Arctic Monkeys

🎵 Summary: Draco, lost and a little broken, navigates post-war reality convinced that people like him should not be allowed to make their own choices. To solve the problem of his self-sabotaging tendencies, he starts taking a few drops of Veritaserum every morning.

A story about the complexity of choices, repressed desires that come to the surface when we least expect them, and the utter hopelessness of truths built on a foundation of lies.

📻 stay awhile (stay here with me) (T, 3.1k) by panicparade @panicissharp

🎵 Song prompt: I like me better - Lauv

🎵 Summary: "Then when?" Harry tries again. He's not sure if he really wants to see the photo or if he just wants to keep talking to Malfoy. This Malfoy, who is so different from what he was expecting. In his Muggle jeans and smartly pressed sweater, with an air of vulnerability around him that Harry isn't used to seeing, Malfoy looks approachable in a way he never has before.

Harry stops his fidgeting as Malfoy looks up to meet his eyes. Through the hum of the crowded pub, he has to strain a little to hear him. "Maybe," Malfoy starts, hesitating a little but never breaking eye contact, "one day?"

📻 All it needs is messing it up and stars (G, 5.9k) by a_reader_and_writer @harrypotterfanfictionwriter

🎵 Song prompt: Tongue Tied by Faber Drive

🎵 Summary: After the war all the Malfoy's came off with light sentences. Now during 8th year Draco is finally free to be himself and date his crush; Harry Potter. Or at least so he thought..

A letter from his father rips that happiness away.

But maybe in the end it will take just a bit of messing up and some stars to get that happiness back.

📻 I'm gonna let it happen (E, 12.3k) by tomoewantsdolls @tomoewantsdolls

🎵 Song prompt: Florence + The Machine - Shake it out

🎵 Summary: And I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don't So here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my road And I'm ready to suffer and I'm ready to hope It's a shot in the dark and right at my throat 'Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me Looking for heaven, for the devil in me Well what the hell I'm gonna let it happen to me

📻 I feel it in my bones (M, 6.3k) by cloudlesslysky @cloudlesslysky

🎵 Song prompt: Radioactive - Imagine Dragons

🎵 Summary: Harry’s heartbeat is loud in his ears as his heart pounds in his chest. His lungs burn as he pants for air. His legs are screaming in protests as he continues to push them to their limit, forcing himself to run ever faster.

📻 Born in the U.S.A. (M, 9k) by KittyCargo @kittycargo

🎵 Song prompt: I'm on Fire by Bruce Springsteen

🎵 Summary: “You need to come home, Draco.”

“What? Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I just have an opportunity for you, and you need to come home to take it.”

When Draco's mother insists he comes home, he drags his feet and convinces his friends to take a road trip.

📻 just tell me when it's alright (E, 23k) by M0stlyVoid @bonesliketambourines

🎵 Song prompt: Teeth, Lady Gaga

🎵 Summary: Harry’s been fighting tooth and nail for any bit of normalcy he can get his hands on. He’s sick of feeling like something’s wrong with him, tired of feeling different. He thinks he’s finally gotten to the root of it, and has settled into a routine that makes him happy. Naturally, that’s when Draco Malfoy walks back into his life and upends it once again. Has Harry bitten off more than he can chew with his former rival?

📻 The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth (T, 19.4k) by Cibee (Cibeeeee) @cibeewastaken

🎵 Song prompt: Cupid - Amy Winehouse

🎵 Summary: Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

So Draco decides to boldly go where no one has gone before: to put himself through scrutiny; their friends’ teasing and pranks; unsound romantic advice from a house-elf; wearing pretty clothes; all to try and win Potter’s heart through courtship.

(An unnamed ginger bastard can be heard yelling from afar: “This is actually a detailed guide on how not to court someone!”)

But who cares about the opinions of redheads? Literally no one.

📻 What Will We Do With a Drunken Harry? (E, 4.9k) by Thunder_of_Dragons @thunder-of-dragons

🎵 Song prompt: "Drunken Sailor" by The Irish Rovers

🎵 Summary: A victorious Quidditch match, a claimed Quidditch Cup, and a wild House party can mean only one thing. Will the aftermath lead to one excruciating hangover in the morning, or will it perhaps lead to something more?

📻 Though Your World Is Changing, I Will Be The Same (E, 15.9k) by hephaestiions

🎵 Song prompt: Slave To Love by Bryan Ferry

🎵 Summary: “I shower after work,” Harry had told him once when Draco had asked what cologne had such longevity as to be effective after a full day of gruelling Auror work.

“For me?” Draco had asked. Teased, just a little. There had been a smile lingering on the edges of his consciousness, threatening to traipse onto his mouth.

“For Ginny,” Harry had said, voice flat. “She hates it when I come back sweaty and crackling with other people’s hexes. Did you know magic has a smell? I didn’t until she told me.”

–

It's all fun and games, till somebody falls in love. Given his luck, it's obviously Draco who has to go and do it.

📻 I Can't Help Falling in Love with You (NR, 4.8k) by readdreamwrite26 @readdreamwrite26

🎵 Song prompt: I can't help falling in love with you - Elvis Presley

🎵 Summary: Harry stood up and set his hand out to Draco. “Dance?” “I didn’t know you danced, Potter.” “Hm, I’ve danced a lot in my time," Harry replied smugly. “How do I know you won’t step on my feet?” “You don’t, but I think the risk will be worth it.”

📻 Searching For a Place to Hide (T, 12.5k) by Erin_Riwen @erin-riwen

🎵 Song prompt: Love Will Keep Us Alive - The Eagles

🎵 Summary: After the war, there were threats against the Malfoys. Needing them kept safe until the trials are over, the Ministry puts them in protective custody but a murder attempt proves there’s a Ministry leak. Desperate, the Ministry decides a safe house is best, but who to trust to keep it secret and keep them safe? Narcissa calls in a life debt, the Minster calls in a favour and Harry Potter wonders why his life continues to hate him.

Along the way, the Malfoys learn how to be a family again, Harry learns that some things are not how he thought and maybe never were, and the touch-starved boys discover that they may be each other's forever answer.

📻 Isolated Thunderstorms and Scattered Showers (T, 21.3k) by triggerlil @triggerlil

🎵 Song prompt: Iris - the GooGoo Dolls

🎵 Summary: Post-war, Harry needs space. Everything is too much all at once, and time and time again, he finds himself pulling the invisibility cloak over his head, just for a bit of peace.

Returning for eighth year is hard, especially when you're considered a war hero, and your name is Harry James Potter. It's just that things go a little wonky when Harry starts following Malfoy, and finds that he can't (or doesn't want to) stop.

📻 Kiss It Better (E, 1.5k) by articcat621 @articcat621

🎵 Song prompt: Kiss It Better by Rihanna

🎵 Summary: When Harry's injured, Draco knows there's no place he'd rather be than by his side.

📻 (shut up and) dance with me (T, 7.9k) by punk_rock_yuppie @punk-rock-yuppie

🎵 Song prompt: Shut Up and Dance - Walk the Moon

🎵 Summary: Four dances Harry and Draco share.

📻 In Love with the Ferret (E, 21.9k) by Pineau_noir @pineau-noir

🎵 Song prompt: I'm Yours by Jason Mraz

🎵 Summary: Harry has never been the most observant bloke. Sometimes to the point of him not realising his feelings for a particular pointy, pale git. And it's not his fault if literally everyone else knows about said feelings except for Harry and the git in question. So it's really not his fault, when faced with the scope of his feelings, he suddenly has a hard time talking to one Draco Malfoy. Or looking him in the eye. Or not being a total weirdo around him.

There's nothing to do but take the advice of his friends and try to woo Draco over dinners with friends, Ministry cases, and an unfortunately named Italian restaurant.

Harry just can't stop the flutter in his chest when he sees Draco smile.

📻 Dance with me? (M, 8.2k) by Aylaar @accioxanxiety

🎵 Song prompt: I Wanna Dance With Somebody - Whitney Houston

🎵 Summary: Draco had given up on love, until one day sitting outside the usual gaudy cafe he frequented 'people watching' he spotted Harry Potter lurking, a suspicious Draco investigates and a series of events ensue.

📻 The Cupid Incident (E, 12.6k) by meandminniemcg @meandminniemcg

🎵 Song prompt: Can' Get You out of My Head - Kylie Minogue

🎵 Summary: Draco gets into the way of a potions attack and can't get Potter out of his head.

📻 Carouse (E, 19.9k) by Drarryismymuse (Hatchersn) @drarryismymuse

🎵 Song prompt: Dead by Madison Beer

🎵 Summary: Carouse (verb): To drink plentiful amounts of alcohol and enjoy oneself with others in a noisy, lively way.

Harry finds himself using alcohol in increasingly dangerous ways to cope with the stresses of life. When he is put on leave from work to sort out his issue, he instead falls head first into a lively club scene where he can drink and fuck his worries away. That is, until a certain blond from his past reappears and throws off his entire routine.

Massive well done to all these talented creators - you’ve made this fest utterly spectacular! Take a bow!!

🎙️ Don’t forget to check out the Playlists:

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#HD Wireless #hd wireless 2020 #hd wireless reveals

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funkymbtifiction · 3 years

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Thanks a lot for answering! I wonder could you please give examples of everyday deeds/types of behavior of different primaries and secondaries? Like what are they like when there's a school test or when they need to visit a doctor? The more the better. Something more down-to-earth than the situations from the fantasy movies listed on the website that may never take place in the real world, something found in everyday life that will help someone identify themselves and mb others around them

I’m not sure I can do that, because frankly, your Primary House is a state of mind. It’s what you want and how you feel about things (or do not feel, in the case of Ravenclaws, ahem). But I can talk about a few things, particularly in response to Harry Potter, that can shed light on the state of mind of the Primary.

What I have most noticed about people in general is that we all have a built-in bias, and in order to find our true type—whether that is our MBTI type, our Enneagram core and tritype, or our Hogwarts House combination—we must abandon our ego defenses. What does that mean? We have to overcome our biases and want to know our true self, and own it, more than we want to fight against an answer that might not please us. In the Enneagram, I’ve noticed particular biases against being a 2 or a 6. Everyone wants to be the more “glamorous” 4 or the elusive, bookworm 5.

Harry Potter, for better or worse, introduced us to the concept of Hogwarts Houses, but also introduced us to a bias, because it made Gryffindor the most glamorous House, due to all the main characters (however unrealistically) hailing from that House. Or, at least, all the main characters we like. Ravenclaw is full of wise weirdos like Luna Lovegood, who irrationally believes in things no one can prove. Slytherin is host to mostly back-stabbing, snobbish cheaters. And Hufflepuff is an “afterthought” where all “the boring, nice people are.”

What I like about Sorting Hat Chats is… they made the entire system more interesting and a lot fairer. Now, Slytherin isn’t the only House with villains automatically placed in it: their villains have to be specific in their love (and not betray their family, because it is the house of My Family is My Life). This also means people, fictional or real, who prioritize their loved ones, are Slytherins. Such as Mr. Darcy, or Katniss Everdeen. Suddenly, being a Slytherin doesn’t seem so bad, right? Not if you are loyal to the ones you love! That alone will appeal to the mindset of a Slytherin, because they will think, “Of COURSE I am. Of COURSE my loved ones come first! They SHOULD!”

I have friends in all four Primary Houses, but I will use myself as an example of the Ravenclaw. When I was reading the books, having all the main characters in Gryffindor bothered me, because not only did it show a bias, but I felt some of the main characters ‘belonged’ in other Houses—such as Remus Lupin being a Hufflepuff rather than a Gryffindor. I also felt like Hermione belonged in Ravenclaw. But that is neither here nor there… my objections to the system came from the logical flaws in how she arranged it. It wasn’t realistic to have everyone ‘important’ or ‘admirable’ within the story come from Gryffindor. It was easier to have them share Common Rooms, but people don’t isolate like that and only befriend someone from their House. They look for like-minded friends who share interests, and would make them all over the place. It was my little Ravenclaw brain, pulling away at her system and finding flaws in its logic, but reacting from a place of logical reasoning rather than moral indignation.

When I took the SHC test, it placed me in Slytherin. And I was not opposed to that. In fact, I explored it for a long time, as I thought about how I respond in various situations. Slytherin appealed to me, because… I wish I could stand up for my family automatically. I wish I could prioritize my loved ones all the time. But I kept hitting upon the fact that – I like to think about things in a detached manner, and come to what I feel is a rational consensus. It’s more clinical and less emotional than Slytherins are—and it helped at the time that I knew a Slytherin, and could easily see both how possessive she was of people (they are “mine to protect” – she always reminded me of Slytherin Sam Gamgee in The Lord of the Rings, with his “MY MR. FRODO”) and how, without fail, her sister came before even me, her best friend. Through comparison, I knew I had to be something else. So in typical Ravenclaw fashion, I went through and considered them all. Because, as a Ravenclaw, I want to be RIGHT more than protect my ego. I am always looking for the truth, even when it hurts. And I am always measuring the world against an ideal in my head, built up of my belief system. I do not go against my beliefs; I mold myself to them. And it shocks me to find others who do not, but who claim to be the same as I am. I take, for example, my Christian faith seriously—so what do you mean you are ignoring what your faith says, and doing whatever you want??? YOU MOLD TO YOUR BELIEFS, DON’T YOU? Well, yes, if you are a Ravenclaw, you do. If you are any other House, you do not.

The Hufflepuff Primary I know has a far more ‘felt’ opinion of the books and their sorting system. She got livid reading them, and thinking about how constantly unfair it all was, how biased Rowling was, and how Dumbledore was clearly playing favorites constantly with Gryffindor House. She developed a bad attitude about him as a result… which, of course, is coming from her being a Hufflepuff. To a Hufflepuff, people come first. They are all treated fairly and seen as equals. You do not discriminate, you do not alienate, you do not give unfair favors to Harry and his friends, just so Gryffindor can win the House Cup over and over again. She was actually so angry about this, from a Hufflepuff perspective, that she was willing to be a Slytherin in defiance of ‘The System’ until she realized that kind of mindset is… pure Hufflepuff. “You are not being fair about this, I will oppose you.” It’s all instinctual, it’s all emotional, and it’s all loyalty to the human race, which includes Slytherins. (This caused us some friction for awhile, until I realized it was “just a Hufflepuff” objection, because... how can you be mad at Dumbledore for that? It’s just a convenient plot device in the book! ... says the Ravenclaw who isn’t getting too emotionally involved. ;)

The Slytherin I know, by the way, denied being a Slytherin at first, because she felt ashamed of it. She has been taught to act like a Hufflepuff, that she SHOULD care about everyone all the time, but… she does not. She cares about her loved ones the most, and she would protect them above other people, every time. I pointed out to her that Hufflepuff fits her less than Slytherin, because “You ARE Katniss. You told me that once. That you identified so heavily with her, because you would go into the arena for your Prim.” And then she admitted it, and saw the gloriousness that is being a loyal Slytherin.

The Gryffindor I know is always looking for a Cause, and… as a Ravenclaw, I find that exhausting. She wants to be mad about things, because that anger gives her the fire she needs to do something about it. She has taken on big Causes by financially supporting the Causes she cares about, and done physical things about smaller Causes. For example, as a teenager, she came upon three guys tormenting a dog. It made her so livid, she charged straight at them, swearing and screaming at them to leave the animal alone, and it scared them all so much, they turned tail and ran. She just knew it was the right thing to do, and she and I often butt heads a lot, because she expects everyone else (meaning me) to be as passionate as she is about doing the ‘right thing.’ My more detached “well, let’s look at both sides of this issue” has no place in her black and white Gryffindor mind (no, that is WRONG).

Secondary Houses are… something that may take a little more time to figure out, as you think about how you handle the ‘unexpected.’

Gryffindors… have to speak up if they see an injustice, or hear something they disagree with. They are they person who cannot keep their mouth shut, they need to voice their opinion. They don’t care if you don’t like it or don’t agree, to not state their views would be antagonistic to their central self. My Hufflepuff friend is a Gryffindor Secondary. Not only did she get mad about the biases in Harry Potter, she complained loudly about it, to me, and to other people, and even in a blog post, because the injustice of it needed drawn-attention to, and dealt with, and she doesn’t really care if you disagree. That’s just how she rolls, about EVERYTHING. Because Gryffindor Secondaries state their views. They see an injustice, and they rush toward it. (My Gryffindor friend is also a Gryffindor Secondary: see dog being abused, rush in to do something about it!)

Ravenclaws… want to prepare for everything, and then rely on their own skill set to handle problems as they arise. They are the person who, when their bike breaks down halfway home, consider what they know about bikes (can they fix this easily?), and what they know about public transportation (am I going to be able to catch a bus home?), and make decisions from there. Or who study for a test in advance and show up, only to panic because they found out they read the wrong chapter in the book and know nothing about it. My father is a Gryffindor with a Ravenclaw Secondary, and he over-prepares himself with any useful knowledge he thinks he might need to combat a wide variety of situations—and then is stumped if confronted by something he did not prepare for, and knows nothing about. He is always trying to think ahead and prepare so that he doesn’t have to improvise anything at the last second—because he sucks at it.

It was a comparison with him that actually shifted me away from assuming I had a Ravenclaw Secondary, because… I don’t suck at improvising. I’m actually quite good at it. And I don’t over-prepare, because in true Hufflepuff Secondary position, I figure I can ask someone for help. And they always give it to me. But what really cemented the deal for me, in terms of recognizing my Puff Secondary House, were two—no, make that three, truths from my life. 1) Ravenpuffs distill complex information and put it back out into the world for others to enjoy (hello, Funky!). 2) Puff Secondaries show up and do the tireless work, clock the hours, and are highly reliable, which is… me. I have run this site day in and day out for years. I am punctual, fastidious, I put my responsibilities ahead of all else (even turning down fun occasions because I need to work), and I will painstakingly work on perfecting something, finishing something, improving something, or polishing something (even when I’m bored). In short, I show up and do the work. And 3) the truth that Puff Secondaries have friends to stand up for them, because they have proven themselves reliable and trustworthy, is no joke. A few years ago, I had trouble with someone online and, without being asked, three of our mutual friends came to my defense. Proof of the Puff.

Lastly, Slytherin Secondaries are highly adaptable. It’s no problem for them to shift their approach given the needs of the situation. It’s the equivalent of a friend you admire, but who puzzles you (if you don’t share their Slytherin Secondary trait) because… it seems like they are a different person everywhere you go, because whatever is needed, they can become it. They are the person who has no trouble with change and no need to plan, because they just trust that it’s all going to work out fine, based on their ability to adapt. It’s the person who shows up at a friend’s birthday party expecting it to be formal, finds out it’s casual, sneaks into the bathroom to rearrange their attire, and emerges ready to play Twister. Or who will be serious with you, joke constantly with your brother, and behave like a saint around your mom, according to whatever works and appeals to you the best.

Hope some of that helps, though it wasn’t explicitly what you asked for. Best this ENFP can do, since in-depth sensory specific examples require a heck of a lot more Si than I’ve got. :P

#question #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw #gryffindor #slytherin #hufflepuff #submission

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alltheselights · 3 years

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1/2 Hey! I’m wondering if you have any thoughts about this? Idk if you’ve seen the discourse on Harry seeming rather disconnected during his first show? I’ve seen fans saying he wasn’t really interacting with the audience or telling jokes and his speeches seems robotic or rehearsed? I’ve also seen a bit complains about the setlist. On the other hand, some fans seem to view him as very emotional, looking like he’s going through something and seeming very genuine, maybe a bit overwhelmed in his speeches and it looks and sounds like hes about to cry.

2/2 I haven’t caught up completely but it also brought to mind a tiktok i saw a couple of weeks ago about a fan contemplating if harrys actions the last year is a result of trying to make some changes with his label/management etc.? Idk, I saw someone point out jeff is gone, then holivia happened and the whole handeling of cancelled/postponed tour dates with radio silence from harry (which isn’t exactly new) suggested that he might be in a process of getting out of columbia or something? Also the way he spoke at the grammys, other people saying his label/management are trying to ruin his image before he moves on?

Okay, so let me try to address a few of the things you mentioned and my view on them. First things first, I do think Harry was somewhat disconnected during the first show, but I think it’s likely that a bunch of things contributed to that.

1) The first is the harshest response I have, which is just that Harry has been rather disconnected from his fanbase for a while, and that has only increased as he’s become more and more famous since the success of Fine Line. His entire image is centered around being everything to everyone and appealing to a wide swath of people, and I think distance from his fanbase is a necessary requirement for that, which is why it will continue to be imposed. As many people took note last night, his fanbase is no longer just solo Harries who have followed him for years and former One Direction fans. There are a lot of random people who just heard Watermelon Sugar on the radio and loved it and wanted to go see an artist live who has blown up in the past two years. A lot of those fans probably don’t care much about that personal connection and just want to see a wild performance, so you have to keep in mind that their group is another part of the fanbase that Harry and his team have to keep in mind.

2) It was the first show and it’s always nerve-wracking, but probably even more so after such a long hiatus from performing or even being around large crowds. I think it will take Harry a little bit to get back in the groove of things, which is totally normal. I bet the state of his show in two weeks will be much different than it was last night and many of peoples’ concerns will have vanished.

3) While I suspect Harry will increase fan interaction as the tour continues, I think it’s probably a lot harder for him to hear fans with the masks and he won’t be able to rely on lip-reading helping him out with figuring out what fans are screaming at him, which may minimize fan interaction compared to what happened on his previous tours. It does look like he acknowledged multiple signs and I bet that will continue, but I think it may just be harder in general to communicate directly with fans because of the COVID guidelines, which is just something that everyone needs to understand and respect.

To address the other part of your ask, the bit about Columbia and Jeff and all that, I just don’t agree with any of the fan theories that Harry is somehow being sabotaged by his team (his team does amazing work for him and has turned him from a B or C list artist to a household name in just a few short years) or planning to leave them. I think Harry is happy with his team - he may not be happy with everything he does, like the stunting, but I think he likely does it willingly because he enjoys having a successful career and knows that his team’s plans so far have played an important role in that. I would be shocked if Harry left Jeff or Columbia or Sony behind after how much effort they’ve put into his career, particularly before and after Fine Line’s release. Harry receives the kind of label attention and promotion that many artists can only dream of, and I just don’t see him leaving that behind anytime soon.

This is obviously just my opinion and I have no real insight into anything beyond just what my own two eyeballs observe, but those are my thoughts on it!!

#asks #hs #theories

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resinatingbeauty · 3 years

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Witchcraft & Expectations

What do you really expect from the Craft?

I had considered writing this for a while before actually doing it just because I didn't want anyone to feel like they were being attacked or singled out. Offending you isn't the purpose of this post, so please do not be discouraged by anything you read here. There is no wrong way of practicing your Craft and to each their own. I was just curious about perspectives when it comes to your expectations regarding Witchcraft, magick, and spirituality as I have dealt with many different people following many different paths since focusing more on my Craft and art through my shop which began on Mercari and grew enough to become more established on Etsy.

I do sell many spiritual / witchy items from personalized spell kits to witchy mystery boxes compiled with Intuitively chosen and my own handmade, one of a kind items. Among the most popular spiritual offerings are my 'buy one get one miniature spell jars,' which allow my customers to select two general purposes or a personalized request from which I assemble and enchant a miniature glass spell jar containing herbs, crystals, essential oils, and other objects based on their needs and requests. I wanted to make these little portable vessel talismans more available to everyone price and purpose wise, compared to others that have been charged with a more specific intent or devoted to a specific deity.

I have a long history of using spell jars myself for various purposes whenever I feel compelled to create one or a special occasion arises. I'm picky about larger jars and bottles, however, so they are usually created in small corked jars or in larger jars that I will sometimes embellish or try new things to integrate that allow the spell jar to also be an appealing or intriguing piece of handmade everyday decor while serving its spiritual purpose, such as the one in the photo above.

For the most part, I have found a surprisingly amount of success with my spell jars. Not just myself, but others as well have reported events that they thought were directly related to their spell jar. I had created one for my neighbor a couple weeks ago who had been searching for a better job than the one she had at a preschool. The day after I gave her the jar, she received a text from an old coworker who notified her that a position at a bank she had applied at months ago that had nothing available at that time had just opened up.

This actually exceeded my expectations. In my experience, magick takes time. Others who have commented on the success of their spell jars or magick in general would contact me a few weeks or so after using their spell kit or receiving their spell jar. I created a spell jar back in January to help jumpstart my small business selling my crafts and Craft and didn't really start to see a huge change until mid-March-April where I was more successful than even I anticipated.

This was about on par with what I expected in terms of time, as most spells I've ever done have taken days, weeks, or even months to start manifesting results that couldn't be passed off or ignored. To be sure, I include a scroll with each of my kits and jars explaining how they are best utilized, to have patience, how to set a purpose and intentions, the power of thinking positively, and that magick rewards those who are willing to work and make sacrifices for what they desire. To me, all of these things are virtues that this path teaches us and are part of what makes the Craft so empowering overall. Whether it was the spell or your hard work, you are the catalyst for change. You made things happen. I mean, what is more empowering than that?

This is part of the reason why I personally chose to over spell kits and magickal tools rather than offering to cast spells or perform rituals on one's behalf. It was my desire to make YOU feel empowered and you are the one ultimately responsible for your own success or failure, whether spiritually or otherwise. I'll gladly steer you down the road of success and provide you with my knowledge, experience, and guidance, but I am always clear about what to expect.

Unfortunately, we live in a time where instant gratification is anticipated and expected, which I never considered in terms of Witchcraft. I knew that no matter how many times I write 'set realistic expectations, focus on your purpose, be patient, and keep doing what your doing' that some people would just blow through all that hoping that they just bought a quick fix for all their problems for $6.99 + a buy one get one deal.

Two weeks or so ago, I had received an order for said jars from a young man who simply said he wanted a personalized spell jar for lucid dreaming and dream work and selected his second 'free' one for self empowerment. I reached out to clarify and answered some of his questions. My immediate impression from him was one of discord. He expressed a lot of turmoil in his life over the past few months and claimed to have taken on a lot of responsibility. He seemed young and eager, with a ton of questions regarding magick in general. I answered his questions the best I could, but reiterated the same values I expressed in the previous paragraph when asked why such and such spell wasn't working, 'should I not have done this,' etc. Magick takes time to manifest, especially when it comes to financial purposes like he explained which are inherently unlikely to resolve themselves overnight.

He seemed happy enough with his purchase and said as much when he received his package. A couple days later, I received a notification about a review he had left which was negative, saying one of his spell jars didn't work with a message delivered in tandem asking what purpose I had set for his spell jar.

Let me say this: I am not upset with him or complaining about his review. He is entitled to his own opinion, although I was annoyed with how quickly he had come to the conclusion when in the instructions I provided him I specifically said that these things take time to work. Anyone who receives results instantly or within the next day or so are exceeding my own expectations. Which is great! Hooray!

But this is definitely not the standard I've come to expect in all the years I've been practicing the Craft.

I continued chatting with and answering this young man's questions and ultimately uncovered that he was upset about a variety of things that had been going on in his life. In his mind, he felt entitled to have these things work for him sooner rather than later and was frustrated and angry that nothing he tried had been working out the way he expected.

In the time that I have opened my little shop, I have (thankfully) only run into one other person like this- where their understanding of Witchcraft seems to have been compiled from television and movies. After the first, I learned to tread lightly around these individuals because, whether it's their fault or not, they have been mislead.

Television shows like old school Charmed and the newer Salem and Witches of East End are really entertaining. I enjoyed watching them, but they are the absolute enemy of those who practice magick / witchcraft as a form of religion or spirituality. Sure, some of these shows actually do their research. Even Buffy the Vampire Slayer was ahead of its time introducing Wiccans, Technopagans, and New Age practices to pop culture and in many ways helped to show people an obscured version of the truth during the 'Satanic Panic' period when even witches hated being called witches and the pentagram / pentacle difference became an actual difference that wasn't just a choice of words.

Newer generations growing up with Harry Potter, which is hardly a great introduction into magickal traditions, were at least more open minded than the previous generation to the actuality of witchcraft and magick as a spiritual practice.

I mean, who doesn't want to snap their fingers and make the house tidy in one fell swoop?

I sure do. But even when I first started practicing at 11 I understood that that just isn't how it is.

This young man who was saying he lead a coven sounded more like he was LARPing than legitimately asking for spiritual guidance. I realized real quick that I couldn't do anything for him. What he wanted and expected, no matter how many times I referenced the instructions I provided (he evidently hadn't acknowledged) and relayed to him my own experience and expectations, he was looking for that 'quick fix' and someone or something to blame for when it didn't work the way he thought it would. The main reason for his complaint? The night after he received his spell jar, he said he just dreamnt about the moon.

My understanding of lucid dreaming was having direct control over ones dreams. The more I talked to this person the more it became clear that this wasn't his understanding of lucid dreaming. I tried to ask what he had tried to gain that control, as many of you know that I suffered from sleep paralysis for years and taught myself how to realize and 'break out' of it over time. He referenced making offerings to a goddess. I had to stop.

I'm sure that another business minded witch would have sold him something else or offered an exchange. I (stupidly) tried to make him understand that he has the power to manifest his desires. All I did was provide him with a tool to help things along.

This was the same for the woman I had dealt with months ago who said that she had been told by this coven owned business that she was a vampire reincarnated to be with her lover. That was the ultimate end of our conversation because she didn't seem very open to anything I suggested. Whether the things she bought were 'effective' for her or not we will never know. When she started messaging me to the point of harassment I deleted her messages and flagged them as spam. All this time and effort spent consoling someone who really isn't in the right frame of mind for magick or witchcraft.

The main point in writing this ranty post is to get the perspective of the community. What are your expectations for your own spells? What do you tell others when they ask? If you are also a 'witch shop' owner or own your own spiritual practice how do you deal with clients that have set unrealistic expectations for you and your Craft?

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pitubea1910 · 4 years

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Watermelon Sugar

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Words: 6k

Warnings: -

Tags: -

Request: -

Notes: this was writen in 3rd person because I found it easier to write :) it’s been a while since I wrote for Mr Styles but when WS video came out I had to write something. I hope you like it! Leave a comment and/or reblog!

Masterlist

She opened the door of her apartment and walked in, breathing heavily and all sweaty. The weather in L.A. had been quite hot the last few days, which had made her morning jogs a bit more challenging. All she could think about was the cold bottle of water she had in the fridge and the shower she was about to get.

(Y/N) had lived in Los Angeles for six years. She moved from San Diego when she decided to pursue her dream as an actress and, to be honest, she wasn’t doing as bad as her mother told her she could do. She hadn’t been in any big production, but her agent kept on telling her that she was in the right track.

She had been in several ads, some music videos and even as an extra in a couple of TV shows. She knew her big chance would come and just had to be patient. Sadly, patience didn’t pay the bills, so she was also working as a waitress. It hadn’t been easy to find a job where they would allow her to take a random day off for an audition or to film something, but her friend Kelly worked there as well and had put a great word for her. She would always be thankful.

(Y/N) checked the time and sighed when she saw that she had less than an hour and a half to get to work. She drunk the water she was craving and hurried to get to the shower. Twenty minutes later, she was already drying her hair and got dressed with some dark jeans and a sweater. She would change into her work uniform when she got to the restaurant, so she didn’t pay too much attention to what she was wearing.

She heard the familiar ding of her phone, telling her she had a text message. It was probably Kelly.

I’ll be there in 10. Be ready, xx

Kelly picked her up almost every single day to go to work, which (Y/N) deeply appreciated. Even though she had her license, she couldn’t afford to buy a car and having someone driving her was way more comfortable than using the public transport. Running around her one-room apartment, (Y/N) collected the few things she would need: wallet, phone and charger. She threw everything into her black bag and hurried out of the door, locked it and went downstairs.

Her shift went by as usual. Since it was Tuesday, a work and a school day, there weren’t many clients. Weekends were another story. She used to do extra hours due to the number of customers they had. Not that day. She finished her shift at 4 p.m., as usual, and waited for Kelly to finish changing so she would drive (Y/N) home.

She was patiently waiting, scrolling down her Instagram feed, when she saw a photo of Gemma and Anne. She smiled sweetly and liked it. She didn’t talk to Gemma as much as they did when (Y/N) was dating Harry, but they still were in touch and talked from time to time. They had connected the very first moment Harry introduced them almost two years ago, short after they got together and the last time they had seen each other was four months ago, a month before the breakup.

Their relationship had been one of the best (Y/N) had ever had. Harry was the sweetest and most caring guy she had ever met. He had always been there for her, making sure she was okay, even spoiling her when she allowed it. And even when she didn’t. Everyone in their inner circle kept on saying that they were the perfect match for each other. Harry was the calm that (Y/N) needed and she was the light in his lonely life.

At least until she wasn’t.

(Y/N) shook her head, pushing the thoughts away and got out of the app. She was about to lock it when it started to buzz. The name of her agent appeared on the screen, which made (Y/N)’s heart stop for a second. Maya would only call if there was a job for her. Immediately she picked it up.

“Hey there, girl”, (Y/N) said trying to sound chilled, although she was biting her nails. A nasty habit she couldn’t shake.

“How’s my favourite future Hollywood princess?” Maya said on the other side, making (Y/N) laugh.

“She just left the castle where she’s held by the evil stepmother”, she said looking at the door of the restaurant.

“Joanna was in today?” Maya asked, referring to (Y/N)’s manager.

Joanna was a forty-years old woman who happened to be one of (Y/N)’s manager. It could be said that their relationship wasn’t the best.

“Yeah”, (Y/N) sighed. “She made it impossible, as usual. But I’m used to her by now.”

“Well, I have something that will cheer your whole day up”, she said, not wasting anymore time.

“I’m all ears”, (Y/N) said with a big smile.

“Music video. In two days. Malibu”, Maya said.

“I love music videos!”

And she did. They were so much fun to film and it was an easy to make money. There wasn’t much acting involved, but she had always met the most decent people in those crews. Plus, she had got to meet some really big celebrities.

“I know you do, girl, that’s why I thought of you the moment this came to my table”, Maya said. “You want it?”

“Who’s the singer?” (Y/N) asked.

“They haven’t said it”, Maya said, which made (Y/N) sigh in annoyance. “I know, but you know how some of them are with their privacy and secrecy.”

“Yeah, yeah”, she said. “I just like knowing who I work for, you know?”

“All I got is that is a guy and I only know it because they referred him as ‘him’”, Maya said. “So…?”

“I’ll be there, no problem”, (Y/N) said anyway. Even if she would rather know who her employer was, she still needed the money.

“Perfect. Come by the office tomorrow morning so we can get the paperwork done, okay?” Maya said.

“10 a.m.?”

“Make it 11. I have a meeting at 9 that looks like a long one”, Maya said.

“Okay, got it. Tomorrow at 11 a.m. Thanks, Maya. You’re a lifesaver”, (Y/N) said just when Kelly walked out of the restaurant. She looked pissed and (Y/N) didn’t even need to ask why.

“I love you too. See you tomorrow!”

“Okay, bye!” (Y/N) hung up, locked the phone and put it into her bag. “What happened?” She asked.

“Joanna happened”, she sighed. “She came to me complaining about the state of some tables! I wasn’t even in charge of that area. Roger was”, she explained as they started making their way to the car. “But of course, dear Roger will never get scolded.”

“How can they be so obvious?” (Y/N) rolled her eyes.

“I hate favouritisms”, Kelly said. “Anyway, who were you talking to?”

“Maya”, (Y/N) smiled. “She got a job for me. Music video in Malibu on Thursday.”

“Great!” Kelly exclaimed. “Who’s the singer?”

“No idea. Maya said they wanted to keep it a secret”, she shrugged. “Seriously, it’s so annoying when they do that. I know they want to avoid anyone talking and ending up with fans at the set but c’mon. We’re adults here.”

“Not everyone is an adult”, Kelly said, still angry at Joanna.

“Good point”, (Y/N) sighed. “I took it, of course. I need the money. But still.”

“It will be okay”, Kelly said unlocking the car. “Do you mind going to Target for a minute? I need to get some stuff.”

“No problem.”

***

“I don’t understand how you always talk me into this”, Kelly said before taking the straw in her mouth again.

After going to Target (Y/N) had casually mentioned how she was craving something sweet. As usual, Kelly said she was on a diet but, to be honest, she had been on a diet ever since they met. It didn’t take too much convincing to get to Cocobella Creamary. Kelly ordered a banana and strawberry smoothie and (Y/N) ordered an Oreo Frappuccino.

“You didn’t have to order anything”, (Y/N) shrugged.

“It’s weird if I just sit here without anything”, Kelly said.

“I’ve done it sometimes”, (Y/N) said.

“Weird I said”, Kelly said, making (Y/N) laugh and nod. “You know what I was thinking?”

“Strike me.”

“Who the singer of the video might be”, Kelly said with her eyes narrowed.

“Some diva probably. Those are the ones who don’t want to say who they are in my experience”, (Y/N) said.

“I think it might be Harry.”

(Y/N) almost choked on her Frappuccino when Kelly said that. She coughed, covering her mouth, until her eyes got all watery. Kelly was quick to ask for some water to the waitress who came back running to the table. Thankful, she took the glass and drank a little.

“Thanks”, she told the girl, who looked relieved to see that a customer wasn’t going to die on her shift. When she walked away, (Y/N) looked at Kelly who was obviously almost laughing. “Not funny.”

“I just said his name”, she said with a funny smile.

“Unexpected. That’s all”, (Y/N) sighed. “And it’s not his video.”

“He’s in town and there are rumours he will make a video for Watermelon Sugar”, Kelly shrugged.

“Unrelated”, (Y/N) shrugged. Kelly looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “It’s not him. And I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, fine. But that doesn’t make the chance go away”, Kelly said.

(Y/N) glared at her friend but decided not to say anything. Instead, she drank from her Frappuccino while looking out of the window. She didn’t even know Harry was in town. It wasn’t a surprise since he spent so much time there. Honestly, she had been to London in the time they were together and she couldn’t understand why he preferred Los Angeles. Yes, the weather was way better, but there was something much more appealing about England. However, Harry had always loved the west coast.

Actually, she knew that if it wasn’t because of how fond Harry was of L.A. they would have never met. Although since they broke up, she wished he wasn’t around so often. It wasn’t like they had ever run into each other at a party or anything -she avoided those unless she had a reason to be there- but knowing that he was in Los Angeles made her feel anxious. She wasn’t ready to see him again.

When Kelly dropped her off in front of her apartment, (Y/N) felt exhausted. So she went straight to the her couch, laid down and turned on the TV as she silenced her phone. She needed a bit of quite time every time she came back from work. The restaurant got so loud sometimes that it could be too much, so she loved the quietness that her apartment offered.

Next morning, when she went by her agent’s office to sign the contract, she looked for any sign that would tell her who the artist was but there was nothing. Maya knew nothing. (Y/N) would be lying if she said she hadn’t been thinking about what Kelly had said, but she refused to believe that it was Harry. It would be too much of a coincidence.

Knowing that racking her brain wouldn’t help, she decided to just forget about it. There was no way of knowing who the singer was if he or she didn’t want anyone to know, so she decided to take the day to relax and be ready for the video.

Maya texted her that night to tell her that she had to be on set at 10 a.m., so she would send a car at 9.15 a.m. so make sure she was on time. (Y/N) laughed a little. Maya and her had been working together long enough to know that punctuality wasn’t (Y/N)’s strongest suit.

Thanks to that, she managed to get to set fifteen minutes before ten, which gave her plenty of time to order a coffee at the Caffe Luxxe. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, it was a bit windy but not enough to make it uncomfortable, it was warm but not hot. It was perfect.

Once her order was given to her, she crossed the road towards where all the crew trailers were. If she had been paying attention to her surroundings, she would have seen the small group of nervous girls who looked like they were waiting for someone, but she was focused on her phone, answering a text from Kelly who was wishing her good luck.

She looked around the beach and smiled. She had always loved the ocean. Her father was a great surfer, even though she had never been able to even stand on the board, and he used to take her to the ocean every day he went to train. She had basically grown up in the water and all she knew was that, no matter where she lived, she needed the ocean nearby.

“May I help you?”

(Y/N) turned around, startled, to the man who had talked to her. He was in his late thirties probably and was carrying a binder with a pair of headphones on top of it. He was probably part of the crew.

“Hi! My name is (Y/N)”, she said, quickly looking in her bag for the identification badge that Maya had given her the previous day. Try to find it while she was holding the coffee was tricky. “I’m in the video.”

“Do you have any sort of…?”

“Here!” She finally said, taking it out of a small pocket. She handed it to him with a big smile.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)”, he said and opened the binder. “Here you are”, he nodded. “You need to go to trailer number 2 to get ready. We’ll start as soon as possible.”

“Okay, thank you”, she said taking the badge back from him. “Where’s the trailer?”

“That one”, he said pointing to one of the trailers that were parked next to the road.

“Thank you”, (Y/N) said again. “Will we be shooting here the whole day?” She asked, out of curiosity.

“Half of it. Then we will move to another location”, he informed her.

“Good”, she nodded. “Thanks again.”

(Y/N) hooked the identification on her bag, in case someone else asked for it, and made her way to the trailer.

“Coming through!”

She stopped on her tracks to let a man pushing a cart full of watermelons walk in front of her. What the hell? She chuckled to herself, wondering what the music would even be about, and walked towards the trailer. Since the door was opened, she just walked in while she sipped on her coffee. There were six chair lined up in there, with four of them already occupied by other girls who immediately looked at her.

“Hi”, (Y/N) smiled nicely. “I hope I’m not late”, she added.

“Hello there!” A red-headed woman said, hurrying over her. “Not at all, darling”, she said with a thick British accent. “I’m Martha, I’m in charge of make up and hair”, she introduced herself.

“Nice to meet you”, (Y/N) said, shaking Martha’s hand.

“Come and sit right here and one of my girls will be with you in a second”, she said pointing to one of the chairs. “We’re right on schedule but the faster to get to it, the sooner the show can start.”

(Y/N) decided she liked Martha. She looked like an easy-going person who loved her job. It was obvious she didn’t spend much time out of the UK because of her accent and the lack of tan on her skin, so probably she had come all the way to the States because of the video. (Y/N) wondered why the singer had made someone come all the way from Europe. The thought that Kelly had put in her head appeared again, but she pushed it down.

Once (Y/N) was settled, she finally looked at the rest of the girls to introduce herself, although she didn’t expect them to be already staring at her like they already knew her.

“Um… hi”, (Y/N) said, waving awkwardly. “I’m (Y/N).”

“We know”, one of the girls said. “You’re his ex.”

“Excuse me?” (Y/N) chuckled.

“Good morning, everyone!”

That voice made (Y/N) freeze. She would recognize that deep voice and that accent anywhere in the world even when she hadn’t listened to it in three months. When she looked at the door of the trailer, her heart started speeding and her stomach twisted when she saw Harry Styles walking in, wearing that dimpled smile he would always have.

She would have loved to go unnoticed, but suddenly she dropped her cup of coffee, spilling it everywhere and becoming the centre of attention.

“Damn it”, she said getting up, since she was now covered in the black liquid.

“(Y/N)?”

She gulped. She had always loved the way he said her name and it looked like it hadn’t changed. She still felt goose bumps. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) looked up to meet those green eyes that, even in the distance that separated them, made her feel like he was looking into her soul.

“Hi”, was all she was able to say.

***

Harry thought he was having visions.

He had woken up that day full of energy, excited to shoot the video for Watermelon Sugar. It had the potential to be his favourite video yet and he couldn’t wait to see the result, although it would still be some time before it was released it.

As usual, he had been involved in the whole process: from choosing the location, the people in the video, the storyline, everything. That’s why he was so shocked to see his ex in that trailer. He hadn’t chosen her, so what was she doing there?

He was completely blank, but he could feel all eyes on both of them, which was only making the situation worse. He looked at the rest of the girls, whose eyes were going from him to (Y/N), like they were waiting for some kind of drama to explode. Harry couldn’t let that happen.

So he took a deep breath and forced himself to smile again and greet everyone, acting like (Y/N) wasn’t there. Luckily, she was seated on the last chair, so when he had welcomed and introduced himself to everyone, he faced her again.

Since Harry started saying hello to everyone, (Y/N) just sat on her chair, her face burning and fighting the urge to run away. Every single time he talked, she shivered, remembering all those times he would whisper sweet secrets in her ear at night. She could feel him approaching and yet, she couldn’t look up. Not until she knew she had to.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up to find him looking straight at her through the mirror. She gulped and looked up, to see him directly.

“Can we talk?” He asked. “Outside.”

“Yeah”, she nodded and got up. It wasn’t like she had anywhere to hide.

(Y/N) was first to walk out of the trailer and she breathed deeply, letting the air get into her lungs like she had been holding her breath for minutes. She heard Harry walking out as well before he grabbed her wrist.

“Come with me, please”, he asked her.

Harry let go of her wrist, feeling his hand burning at the contact, and started walking towards his own trailer. It was the only place where they could talk without being seen by some busybody paparazzi. He didn’t even have to look back to know if she was following. He could feel her presence. When they got to Harry’s trailer, he opened the door and let her walk in first.

“What are you doing here?” He asked straight.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” She asked back. “Same thing you do. Working.”

“But I… I didn’t pick you.”

(Y/N) clenched her jaw at that, to try and act like it hadn’t hurt her. She knew what he meant by that, but it still wasn’t a nice thing to say. It wasn’t the first time Harry hadn’t picked her and the memory still stung.

“I figured”, she sighed, blinking away the tears that threated to come out. “My agent called me yesterday and told me about this.”

“And you said yes? Knowing it was me?” He asked frowning.

“I didn’t know it was you, smartass. She didn’t know either”, she said. “Trust me, I wouldn’t have come if I knew.”

Harry looked away at that. Even when he knew how mad she was, knowing it hurt.

“That’s nice”, he chuckled.

“Excuse me? You’re the one who didn’t pick me and I’m the nice one here?”

“Did you want me to pick you?”

I wanted you to do it when it mattered, she thought.

“I didn’t even know you were in the States!” She exclaimed. “Don’t blame me on this, Harry. Maybe some of your picked ones got sick or couldn’t make it and they called me. What were the chances of me being your ex-girlfriend?”

Harry didn’t want to admit how it still hurt to think of her as that, even though he knew it was his fault. He messed up and she broke up with him. He couldn’t deny it, but it still hurt.

He took a deep breath with his hands on his hips and he looked down. He couldn’t send her away, of course, but he couldn’t picture working with her for a whole day. Not when he knew he wasn’t over her. Not even a bit. However, he had to keep things professional like he had always done.

“Okay”, he sighed. “You’re here and there’s nothing we can do.”

“Exactly”, she nodded.

“We’ll just do our jobs and…”, he shrugged. “Move on at the end of the day.”

“Sounds like a plan”, she nodded, trying not to show how his words were hurting her.

“Good”, he said quietly.

“I gotta get ready”, she said and walked to the door, but she stopped when she remembered something. “Why so many watermelons?”

“Oh… the song is Watermelon Sugar and the concept is…well…”, he blushed a little. “I told you the concept when I wrote the song.”

(Y/N) blushed immediately as memories came to her head. Memories of an afternoon in Italy, in a yacht rented by Harry. Memories of Harry in between her legs, claiming how good she tasted. Later that day, (Y/N) had found Harry writing the song.

“Oh…”, was all she was able to say.

(Y/N) hurried out of his trailer and went back to number two, where she had to face the looks of the other girls again. Only this time she barely paid attention to them, she was busy trying to control the beast that had gotten lose in her stomach. A feeling that only Harry had ever managed to cause in her.

Harry took a deep breath when (Y/N) left his trailer. He knew he wasn’t over her, but he would have never imagined how much seeing her would affect him. And now they had to spend a whole day together doing this video. Precisely… this video. He knew it was going to drive him crazy, but he had to keep it together and be professional, like he always was.

Soon after, Harry started filming the solo parts of the video. Although there weren’t many of them, it still took a couple of hours before the girls were called on set. He tried to act natural, but he couldn’t help looking for (Y/N) and, once he saw her his jaw fell. She was wearing a pair of denim shorts with the top of a pinkish bikini. On top of her head, were a couple of heart-shaped sunglasses.

“First, thank you all for coming!” The director said when they were all gathered around him. “You all know the concept of the video since I’ve explained earlier.”

(Y/N) gulped and looked at Harry carefully. She couldn’t believe she had been chosen to be a part of this video. She was going to have to touch him, kiss his cheek, being closer to him than what she expected. There was no way she would have been prepared for it even if she knew what she was getting into.

The director explained what scenes they were going to do at the moment and they all went to their positions. However, when (Y/N) was walking towards the rest of the girls, Harry blocked her way.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked looking down at her. She sighed and looked at the crew, who was looking at them.

“We have to”, she shrugged. “It’s our job.”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath before stepping aside. They had to do this. He watched her while she joined the rest of the crew who were already lying down on the sand, on the towels they had been given. Before he joined them, they had to do some parts of them alone, so he just stood there watching. Watching her.

He smiled a little when he saw her taking a watermelon and playfully putting in between her open legs, a gesture that brought so many memories to his head. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her acting. He had always loved how carefree she was when she was in front of a camera. It was obvious how happy that made her.

“Okay, Harry, come here!” Brad, one of the directors said. “Lay there in that towel, in the middle of everyone.”

Harry nodded and walked to the towel, noticing just before laying down that it was (Y/N) who was just next to him. She was wearing that glasses and he saw how juicy her lips looked due to the watermelon slice she was eating. He tried to keep his thoughts away from that, but it was so damn hard when she looked so beautiful.

“Nice glasses”, he said when she caught him looking. A small smile appeared on her lips.

“Thanks”, she said. “Here, take them”, she said, taking them off and going closer to him.

He hadn’t even noticed the music playing again nor the camera rolling. All he could see and think about was (Y/N) putting the glasses on for him. He gulped and smiled a little.

“Looking good, Styles”, she said with a smile.

“Thanks, (Y/L/N)”, he winked.

Another girl, named Cassy if he remembered correctly, touched his shoulder and offered him a piece of watermelon, which he took immediately with a smirk. (Y/N) chuckled a little and kept on doing what she had been told: flirting and teasing. It was obvious that the whole idea of the video came from Harry. He was a flirt and a tease himself.

After doing some shots like that, they were told to come closer together to have some images of everyone together. The chances weren’t high but (Y/N) ended up just next to Harry. She gulped when she saw how good he was looking. Just then he looked at her, with that naughty grin that always drove her crazy.

“I don’t know if I could ever go without…”, he mouthed along with the song, looking at her.

Without even thinking about it, she placed a hand on his other cheek and planted a slow and sensual kiss on his cheek that made his grin go even bigger. Then she took the sunglasses from him and put them on. Immediately, he tried to take them back but she moved away, now that they were all separated again, and winked again.

(Y/N) loved these kind of music videos. The ones without actual choreography where they could just do as they pleased while the music was on. Although this time she wasn’t even noticing the effect it was having on her. She would have never imagined how happy she would feel for messing around with Harry like nothing ever happened. She couldn’t deny how she felt every time they touched or every time he looked at her. Harry had always made her feel like she was the only girl in the room with just one look and he was doing it again.

“Are you okay?” He asked when they were taking a break after being in the water goofing around.

“Yeah”, she nodded. “Although I don’t know if I can eat any more watermelons”, she joked, making him laugh.

“Maybe I went a bit too far with that”, he nodded.

“Are you okay?” (Y/N) asked after a few moments of silence.

“Better than I’ve been in a while”, he honestly said, looking at her. “You’re doing great, by the way”, he added. “And you look great.”

“Thanks”, she smiled a little and looked down. He took that moment to take the glasses from her head. “Hey!”

“Sorry, they’re too good”, he said and put them on. “And I look great in them.”

“I found them!” She laughed and tried to take them from him.

Harry was taller than her, so it wasn’t hard for him to keep (Y/N) from taking the glasses. However, keeping balance on the sand wasn’t easy, so the moment he tried to take a step back, he tripped over and fell down on his back, laughing out loud and bringing her with him since he was holding her hand to keep her away from the glasses.

“Damn it”, she laughed, laying next to him. “Give them back.”

“Take them”, he challenged her with a smile.

(Y/N) bit her lip when their eyes met. There was that childish humour in his eyes that made her feel like everything was possible. Not saying anything, she took the glasses from him and put them on her head, using them to keep her hair back. Harry sighed and, slowly, placed a hand on her cheek.

“I missed you”, he whispered. (Y/N) closed her eyes with his touch. “I missed this”, he added before leaning closer.

“Don’t…”, she whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.

“Please, (Y/N)”, he said.

“You hurt me, Harry”, she said, taking his hand. “You said you couldn’t make it here for my birthday and the day before I found you in that club with Camille?”

“I know I fucked up”, he said. “But we never did anything, I wouldn’t do that. Not to you. Ever.”

“It really looked like you had done it”, (Y/N) said sitting up as memories came to her head.

“I know”, he said doing the same. “But I swear I didn’t do it.”

“Then what were you doing there with her after telling me you couldn’t even come from London?” She asked.

“I…”, he sighed and looked down at his hands. “I wanted to surprise you for your birthday. I arrived in the States two days before but the plan was to appear on your door the morning of your birthday, so I stayed at James’. Camille called and she told me to have dinner with her. You know we’re friends so I said yes, and then she asked me to stop by a friend’s party. It was going to be just five minutes and it was. And that’s where you saw me.”

(Y/N) was speechless. When they broke up, he never explained any of this to her. He just let her think the worse of him and went away. Now that she knew what had really happened, she didn’t know if she could believe him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She asked.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me”, he shrugged. “I saw in your face that you had already made up your mind.”

“So you decided not to fight for us? For what we had?”

“Would you have listened?” He asked, looking at her.

“Yes”, she immediately said, but she knew it wasn’t true. And he knew it too, judging by the look he gave her. “Eventually at least”, she sighed. “I had the right to know.”

Harry sighed and placed his arms on his knees, picking on the nail polish he was using. He knew she was right. He should’ve explained everything to her, but he had been so angry at her for not trusting him that he thought there was no point on even trying. Of course, he regretted it the moment he set foot back in England. By then, it was already too late and (Y/N) wouldn’t even answer the phone.

“Will you even consider us again?” He asked, not daring to look at her.

“I don’t know. And I can’t think about it right now, Harry”, she said. “We still have work to do and, maybe, when we’re done… I’ll think about what you’ve said.”

Harry nodded but didn’t look at her. He heard her getting up and walking away from her, so he finally looked up to see her walking away. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He had been such an idiot. He should’ve talked sooner. Instead, he had lost the best thing that ever happened to him. Idiot.

(Y/N) tried to ignore the looks she was receiving and just walked into the trailer she had been assigned to that morning. She didn’t know what to think about what Harry had just told her. She wished she had known sooner. It would have changed everything. Maybe they would still be together. Or maybe not. But she had the right to know. Instead, he had chosen to go away without a fight. Did that mean that he didn’t care enough? Didn’t love her enough? (Y/N) didn’t know the answers to those questions. All she knew was that she wasn’t ready to think about it and she still had work to do that day.

The spent another hour filming at the beach before they moved to another location. Nobody, except for the filming team and Harry, knew where they were heading and definitely no one expected where they appeared. When (Y/N) recognised the house, another whole lot of memories hit her like a rock.

“We’ll be filming in the backyard!” Pablo, the other director, said when they all walked into the propriety. “So, please, follow Brad around the house and you’ll be given instructions.”

How many days had she spent in this place? How many nights? She couldn’t believe Harry had actually offered his own place to make a music video, given how private he was with his life. It actually made her think that he had acquired a new place, which wouldn’t be surprising at all. She looked at the door and sighed, remembering the last time she walked out of there.

They didn’t have to do much filming there. Actually, it was barely two hours before Pablo gave the final cut after they took a group photo in which (Y/N) managed to be as far from Harry as possible. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about what Harry had previously confessed and all she could think about was how much she had missed him and how happy he used to make her. If he was being honest and nothing happened with Camille… did he still love her? Would she be willing to give him another chance?

“Thank you so much everybody for joining me today!” Harry was saying. (Y/N) forced herself to focus. “It was great having you, you’ve been amazing and you’ve done an awesome job. Thank you for making this idea come true and thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Just like he had done at the beginning of the day, he went one by one thanking and saying goodbye to everyone. (Y/N) was tempted to just leave, but it would have been rude.

“Your house, huh?” She asked when he finally reached her.

“It has great views”, he shrugged. “And no one knows I live here, so…”

“No one?” She said with an eyebrow raised.

“Except you”, he nodded and crossed his arms. “Thank you for staying after you found out it was my video.”

“It’s my job”, she shrugged with a small smile. “And I had a really great time, so thank you for not kicking me out.”

“I’d never do that”, he said, making her smile. “Will I ever see you again?”

(Y/N) took a deep breath and looked away, not really knowing what to say. Well… she did know, but she didn’t know if it was right. She took the heart-shaped sunglasses from her head and looked at him. She had missed him so much and she knew he deserved the chance he should’ve gotten if he had been honest from the beginning.

She didn’t believe in signs or in destiny, but maybe getting that call from Maya was a sign of what was right.

“Here”, she said, offering them to him.

“They’re yours”, he frowned.

“Consider them a lend”, she smiled a little. “Plus, you can pull them off better than I do.”

“A lend?” He asked, taking the item from her hands with a small smile.

“Yeah”, she shrugged. “That way, you’ll have to give them back at some point.”

“Really?” He asked, his smile bigger now.

“Of course”, she said, smiling too. “Maybe tomorrow at 7? When I finish my shift?”

Harry felt his chest getting lighter with what she said. He took a deep breath and let out a loud relieved laughter. He nodded and bit his lip.

“I’ll be there”, he nodded.

“Be punctual”, she said before she started walking away.

“I’m British”, he shrugged, making her laugh. “(Y/N)!” He exclaimed. She stopped and turn around to see him looking at her with that smile that he had only for her. “I won’t let you down.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to fight a smile, but it was impossible. She felt happy, like everything was in place again. They could work it out.

“I know.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x yn #watermelon sugar #watermelon sugar music video #watermelon sugar video #fine line #los angeles #imagine #pitubea #my work #original #styles #one direction #malibu

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Clark Gable and His WW2 Death Wish

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Clark Gable did not intend to see action when World War II came to America. Which is not to say he ignored the war. Gable was there that day in 1940 when President Franklin Roosevelt gave his famous “Arsenal of Democracy” speech from the Oval Office. And, indeed, the first thing the movie star did when he heard about the Pearl Harbor attack was cable FDR to offer his full support—and, tellingly, the besieged president promptly answered right back.

But then in the 1930s and early ‘40s, Gable was “the King of Hollywood;” the reigning movie star who could sell more tickets than anybody this side of Shirley Temple, and he didn’t have to sing or dance to do it either. He was a mustachioed and muscular alpha who appealed to everybody, even presidents, and was one of the few leading men who would tell Louis B. Mayer no (at least until casting for Gone with the Wind came along). The government saw the value in that kind of celebrity when the dark storm clouds of war gathered over Europe and the South Pacific, and so did Gable. Still, he was practically 41 when the bombs fell in Hawaii and more than happy to support the war from afar.

As he told fellow MGM stablemate Jimmy Stewart at the latter’s going away party in 1940—Stewart had just happily joined the Army—“You know you’re throwing away your career, don’t you?” When Stewart answered yes, Gable added, “You won’t catch me doing that, but I wish you godspeed.”

Gable had success, Gable had power, and for the first time in his four decades on this earth, Gable had something approaching peace thanks to his marriage to Carole Lombard, the firecracker screwball star. Yet in less than a year, all of those things turned to ash following Lombard’s violent death. When her plane went down in a fiery blaze, it was treated as a national tragedy around the country, and for her husband it was the beginning of the end.

The King became broken, despondent, and finally disillusioned enough to enlist in the U.S. Army Air Corps. To this day, some say he went to Europe with a death wish, and on at least one bombing raid, Capt. Gable almost had it granted as a Luftwaffe shell passed right between his feet.

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard posing for photographers shortly after their marriage in 1939.

The King and Queen of Hollywood

Women were always easy for Clark Gable, and for a time so were wives. The first Mrs. Gable was Josephine Dillon, 17 years his senior, and she was introduced to him as an acting coach by another woman who was his then-fiancée. As a handsome, if unrefined son of an Ohioan farmer, the 23-year-old Gable was perfect clay for Dillon. She turned him into her greatest student, teaching him how to lower his voice and hold your attention. As his patron and wife, Dillon also introduced Gable to all her Broadway connections and the adjacent stock companies. It was even as the star of one of those companies that he met Maria Langham, a wealthy widow and oil heiress who was also 17 years his senior.

As the second Mrs. Gable, Ria introduced Gable to Manhattan’s high society and exquisite living, teaching him social etiquette and the value of a finely tailored tuxedo. One wife taught him how to play at being an actor, and the other taught him how to play at being a gentleman. They served their purposes and they were both brushed off.

But Lombard? He couldn’t brush her off ever.

The first time Clark met Carole, it was a surprisingly chaste affair. The two were cast as the leads of 1932’s No Man of Her Own. Unlike many of his leading ladies in the 1930s, Gable made no passes at Lombard, who was married to movie star William Powell at the time and intended to remain that way. Nevertheless, they hit it off, as the breathlessly quick-witted Lombard did with almost everyone.

Gable wasn’t yet “the King of Hollywood” then, but he was well on his way. Two years later, he’d star in the film that popularized screwball comedies, It Happened One Night (1934), which won him an Oscar for Best Actor, and two years after that he would lead the granddaddy of all disaster movies, San Francisco (1936). By ’38, he was already Tinseltown royalty when then-gossip columnist Ed Sullivan overheard Gable’s drinking buddy and sometime-rival, Spencer Tracy, affectionately refer to him as “King.” Sullivan immediately lit upon the idea of holding a national poll for the “King and Queen of Hollywood.”

More than 20 million people voted and, by a huge majority, Gable was crowned “King” for the rest of his career. Meanwhile, Myrna Loy was elected “Queen of Hollywood.” The fact they were then filming MGM’s Test Pilot (with Tracy) certainly suggests the results might’ve been tampered with. It also likely struck Loy as ironic since her first encounter with Gable ended with her pushing him into a hedge bush after he drunkenly bit the back of her neck while his second wife, Ria, was sitting in a nearby car. Gable refused for years to talk to Loy socially after that rejection, including between takes on film sets.

So yes, the King was a womanizer—complete with a secret baby born out of wedlock to co-star Loretta Young—in a sham marriage at the beginning of his reign. But things began changing when he finally ran into Lombard again, and at last he found his matching monarch.

It was at the White Ball in 1936 that the pair’s paths crossed a second time. By now, Clark was fully estranged from Ria, and the two lived in separate houses. Lombard, meanwhile, had risen to her own stardom by bringing her transgressive life-of-the-party persona to recent screwball comedies directed by Howard Hawks and Ernst Lubitsch. Vivacious, whip smart, and an eventual inspiration for Marion Ravenwood in Raiders of the Lost Ark, Lombard was a hard-drinking and giddy star with her own orbit.

According to Clark Gable: A Biography by Warren G. Harris, when Gable saw Lombard on the dance floor, he went up and said, “I go for you, Ma.” After a moment’s confusion, Lombard realized he was quoting their characters’ nicknames for each other in No Man of Her Own from four years earlier. She responded, “I go for you too, Pa.”

For the rest of their lives, they’d always refer to each other as “Ma” and “Pa.”

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard play with horses at the Encino ranch in 1939.

The Love of His Life

That first night on the dance floor actually ended in the pair’s first of many fights. But in a trick that would come to define the pattern of their relationship, Gable woke up the next morning in his hotel room with two doves sitting on his chest. They’d been secreted there with a note on one’s leg: “How about it? Carole.”

Unlike Gable’s other romantic entanglements, Lombard always controlled the tone and tempo of their courtship while Gable offered Lombard an escape from the glamour goddess, society girl image she’d molded herself to in Hollywood. She was an athlete growing up and, alongside Pa, she picked up outdoor-living again.

Clark taught Carole rifling, skeet-shooting, and camping. In ’38, she joined what had up to that point been Gable’s all-male hunting club with fellow actors and Hollywood talent. When the other men complained about a woman being present and sharing their bathroom, she brought along her own trailer with a private bathroom—taunting Clark and the others by then keeping him out. She crawled in the mud next to the dudes, and would soon be on all of the Gables’ hunting trips.

The pair eloped in ’39 after three years of courtship. This occurred in large part because Photoplay magazine revealed the two were living in sin (Gable was still married and too chintzy to get a divorce). Shortly after the embarrassment, however, Gable paid off his second wife and Lombard became the third Mrs. Gable.

“I just think of that husband of mine all the time,” Lombard once said with her usual candor. “I’m really stuck on the bastard. And it isn’t all that great lover crap, because if you want to know the truth, I’ve had better. No, I’m nuts about him and not just about his nuts.”

When the two moved into their Encino ranch, Gable made his gun collection the centerpiece when you walked in the front door, and Lombard began raising chickens and cattle. It was about as far from Beverly Hills as you could get, or as Lombard enthused, “The best little shit house in the San Fernando Valley.”

It was here that Lombard planned to soon retire, beginning with a one-year sabbatical in an effort to have children. Yet after a year of trying, they only had two miscarriages to show for it. They agreed to keep trying, but they’d soon run out of chances.

Clark Gable and wife Carole Lombard circa 1940.

The Loss of His Life

When the bombs fell in Pearl Harbor, it was Carole who urged Clark to telegraph Roosevelt as soon as possible. She was also in the White House for the president’s fireside chat in 1940. And unlike Gable, she was furious when the president responded, “You are needed where you are.”

With the war finally here, Lombard urged Gable to join the Army in December 1941 while she hoped to join the Red Cross. For Christmas, instead of her usual lavish presents she sent all her friends engravings announcing she’d made a donation to the Red Cross in their name. And when she got wind of MGM publicity chief Howard Strickling trying to position Gable for a safe desk job in Washington D.C. for the course of the war, she told both men, “The last thing I want for Pappy is one of those phony commissions!”

Gable preferred helping the war where FDR told him he should—from the comfort of Hollywood. On Dec. 22, 1941, he presided over the first meeting of the Screen Actors Division of the Hollywood Victory Committee as its newly appointed chairman. The committee functioned as a way for Hollywood stars and leaders to organize all activities in support of the war effort. His wife was the first at the meeting to pledge her cooperation in donations, bond rallies, and touring the troops.

When a request came from the Treasury Department for the Victory Committee to launch Indiana’s participation in the national campaign of selling war bonds on Jan. 15, 1942, Gable recognized his Indiana-born wife as the perfect talent to send along. Carole was thrilled to go, although apprehensive about leaving Clark behind.

Gable couldn’t join his wife on her journey by train because he was about to start work on Somewhere I’ll Find You: his second film with Lana Turner. Up until then, Carole had been very open-minded about Gable’s continued infidelities and little affairs, even after they were married. She turned a blind eye to more than one rumor of him sleeping with a co-star here, or a starstruck journalist there, because she assumed you had to let Clark Gable be Clark Gable. But she drew the line over rumors about Clark and Lana, the latter of whom was infamously dubbed the “Sweater Girl” when she was discovered at a soda fountain at age 16. Blonde and buxom, Turner was 20-years-old when she first worked with the 40-year-old Gable. These stories did get to Lombard.

The evening before she left for Indiana, the couple had a huge blowout during which Clark failed to convince his wife he never slept with Lana Turner. The last night Gable and Lombard were under the same roof, they slept in different beds. The next morning, he did not see his wife off to the train station.

As with many of their fights, things cooled almost immediately. Before she left, Lombard still delivered a pack of handwritten love letters to her live-in secretary Jean Garceau to deliver to Clark, one at a time, everyday she was away. She also had the prank she planned before their fight still be delivered, so when Gable returned home from work that night he found a naked blonde dummy in his bed with a note. “So you won’t be lonely.” Gable reportedly laughed until he had tears in his eyes.

According to Garceau when the two talked by phone the next night, they sounded like “lovebirds” again. And according to the You Must Remember This podcast, Gable had Carole’s hotel room in Indianapolis be covered in red roses when she got in. But before even then, Lombard’s train stopped in Salt Lake City where she saw the troops marching and immediately telegraphed her husband, “HEY PAPPY, YOU’D BETTER GET INTO THIS MAN’S ARMY.”

On Jan. 15, Lombard intended to raise $500,000 in war bonds. Instead, she raised over $2 million. Afterward, she was so eager to get home to Gable following their fight that she decided she’d fly back to California instead of returning by train. This was expressly forbidden by the Treasury Department. Commercial travel was still relatively dicey, and they feared she’d be a target for Nazi saboteurs. Additionally, she was traveling with her mother Elizabeth Peters, a superstitious woman who’d never flown and was deathly afraid to start now. She was also there with Otto Winkler, Gable’s publicist and buddy who was best man at their wedding.

The morning their flight was to leave Indianapolis, Otto got Carole to at least agree to a coin toss. Heads they fly, tails they take the train. Carole won. From Indianapolis, they would make multiple stops, including Wichita, Albuquerque, and Las Vegas. TWA Flight Number 3 never reached Burbank.

That night Gable arranged a surprise party to welcome the three heroes back—as well as a surprise male dummy with an erection waiting for Carole upstairs. He was reportedly giddy waiting for the phone call from limo driver Larry Barbier, who was supposed to report when they landed. Instead, Clark got a call from MGM fixer Eddie Mannix.

“Can I get back to you?” Gable asked. “I’m expecting word on Ma’s arrival any minute.”

Mannix cut him off. “King, that’s why I’m calling. Larry Barbier just phoned from the airport. Carole’s plane went down just a few minutes after it left Las Vegas.” She was gone.

Clark Gable stands next to co-pilot Lt. Col. Robert W Burns beneath B-17 “The Duchess” after bombing raid in September 1943.

Clark Gable Goes to War

The fallout from the literal wreckage of Lombard’s flight was national news. A bewildered Gable joined Mannix and other MGM brass for their own chartered flight to Vegas. He could see the burning debris that Lombard’s flight smeared across Table Rock Mountain from the air. Locals in the city described it as “apocalyptic” and like an “inferno.”

Mannix refused to let Gable go on the rescue party climbing the mountain—convincing him Carole, Otto, and Bettie might have survived and were now walking to the city. So the star stayed behind and drank. The next morning, he received a cable from Mannix. “NO SURVIVORS. ALL KILLED INSTANTLY.”

In truth, the bodies of Lombard and everyone else on board had been more or less cremated by the fire after impact. And while Mannix couldn’t be certain, he believed he found what was left of Carole: a decapitated, charred body with a few blonde strands of hair and the remnants of a ruby and diamond pin Gable had given his wife the year before. He never told Clark about what he saw, but brought back the hairs and piece of ruby.

The next day, FDR sent Gable private condolences and publicly awarded Lombard a medal as “the first woman to be killed in action in the defense of her country in its war against the Axis powers.”

The official and (likely) reason for that flight’s crash is it was overloaded with servicemen and movie star luggage, and the pilot failed to see the mountain in front of him, on which all lights had been turned off to preserve wartime power. Although, according to Orson Welles (as per You Must Remember This), Hollywood and government insiders all knew Nazi saboteurs did in fact bring down the plane, and Roosevelt covered it up to prevent a nationwide panic.

In the months that followed, Gable grew quiet and despondent, losing 20 pounds despite drinking untold amounts of Scotch every day. He dined alone for all meals and began wearing a locket with Carole’s hair and ruby remnants within. According to household staff, he rarely slept and stayed up all hours of the night watching 16mm prints of Lombard’s old movies he had sent over (she’d given him the projector as a Christmas present). Now he had time for no woman except the one he lost.

When he discovered MGM was still trying to keep him from being drafted—with the age range now being raised to 45—Gable grew furious. A scriptwriter pal put him in touch with Col. Luke Smith of the Army Air Corps, who told Gable he should consider applying for training as an aerial gunner since it’s one of those jobs no one seems interested in.

“Everybody wants to be a pilot,” Smith told Gable. “Your becoming a gunner would help to glorify the plane crews and the grease monkeys.” Gable made up his mind to enlist in spite of the wrath of MGM head Louis B. Mayer. He also defied the constraints of his age of 41 by passing the physical—save for the need of getting triplicates of his new dentures (Gable had false teeth his whole career).

On Aug. 12, 1942, Gable enlisted into the Army air force. Right beforehand he told Jill Winkler, Otto’s widow, “I’m going in, and I don’t expect to come back, and I don’t really give a hoot whether I do or not.”

Capt. Gable posing for the press with a gunner’s weapon in June 1943.

The Aerial Gunner with a Death Wish

There is still much speculation over whether Gable actually wanted to die in World War II. His superiors eventually reached that conclusion based on his cavalier attitude, and he at least seemed ambivalent about the whole affair. However, it is interesting he joined the air force considering that, after Lombard’s death, he developed a fear of flying for the rest of his life. Following the war, he would always prefer to make his transatlantic crossings by ocean liners instead of planes.

But during the war? Frankly, he didn’t seem to give a damn one way or the other.

Gable’s biggest fear during the whole conflict was his struggle to pass officer’s training in a 90-day course stateside. A high school dropout, Gable was challenged by the academic course work, which he ultimately got around by treating each textbook like a script he needed to memorize.

Once he was an officer (and allowed to grow back his trademark mustache), he seemed in relatively good spirits for the first time in months. Before going overseas, he told Garceau, “I have everything in the world anyone could want, but for one thing. All I really need and want is Ma.”

In April 1943, Gable was shipped off to join the 351st Heavy Bombardment Group in Peterborough, England, about 80 miles north of London. Gable also received an automatic promotion to the rank of captain, although this had as much to do with the heavy losses of Allied officers as it did with Gable’s leadership.

In truth, Gable likely enjoyed playing the part of officer more than he entirely became it. The military loved letting him pose for the press as a gunner with a bombardier’s bullets wrapped around his neck, but that wasn’t his actual job. While Gable did on at least two occasions take on the role of aerial gunner in combat, his official role was as an observational gunner—he was there to pick up the weapons in the side or rear of a B-17 if the gunner operating it was injured or killed (which did happen).

Otherwise, Gable was there because the Army wanted him to film footage they could use as propaganda, glorifying the role of gunners. While in officer’s school, the Army reunited Gable with cinematographer Andy McIntyre, who would become his sidekick and cameraman in the air. And after his graduation, Gable arranged the transfer of his scriptwriting buddy John Lee Mahin, then a lieutenant serving as an instructor in Combat Intelligence, to join them. In all, Gable and McIntyre built a film crew of six men to film the other fliers on B-17 missions. They were called “the Little Hollywood Group.”

More than twice the age of many of the pilots and gunners he flew with, Gable found himself facing heavy skepticism in his early training.

“None of the kids believed he was going to do anything at all,” Mahin recalled in Warren’s Clark Gable biography. “They never thought he was going to expose himself to any kind of danger. They said it was all a lot of bullshit. It really killed Clark that the kids shunned him.”

The brass, however, loved Gable at first. Many of his superiors invited him nearly every night to dinner, an annoyance he’d soon relegate to one evening a week. And while he welcomed the press to photograph him at the planes, he also refused the special treatment of having private quarters set up, which earned him more respect from the young fliers.

He’d also soon prove himself as a member of Col. William Hatcher’s Chickens (a nickname for his bombing group) when he went up in the air on May 4, 1943. Hatcher was onboard the same B-17 that day as group commander and co-pilot; the 351st were tasked with taking out several factories in Nazi-occupied Antwerp, Belgium.

During Gable’s first combat mission, flak from ground defenses took out one of the plane’s four engines and its stabilizer. More unnervingly, after delivering the plane’s payload, a German’s 20mm shell pierced the center of the plane, with the corner of the shell passing through the heel of Gable’s boot—lifting it clean off—and then exiting the aircraft inches above Gable’s head.

On another mission, Gable took over for gunners who were wounded or killed (there was at least one of each that day). Fifteen holes were found in the fuselage. For Gable, such horrors were also a vindication, as he fully won the respect of the kids around him.

“They adored him,” Mahin recalled. “They couldn’t stay away from him. And he was proud that they accepted him.”

Portrait of Capt. Gable after arriving in England in 1943 as part of the the 351st Bombardment Group.

Hitler’s Prize

At Peterborough, Gable grew increasingly chummy with the other fliers serving. He bought a used motorcycle and would make small talk on trips around the base. And on more than a few weekends, he would head to London to screen at MGM offices some of the footage he shot in the air. He also would meet with his pre-war Hollywood chum, David Niven, who was serving as an instructor for British Commandos and had recently married and had a son.

“From then on our cottage became Clark’s refuge from military life,” Niven recalled. “With Carole’s death, he had been dealt the cruelest of blows, but on the surface at least, he was making the best of it. In his own deep misery, he found it possible to rejoice over the great happiness that had come my way, and he became devoted to my little family.”

Niven added, “Clark’s personal wounds seemed to be healing, but Carole was never far from him, and the very happiness of our little group would sometimes overwhelm him. [My wife] found him one evening on an upturned wheelbarrow in the garden, his head in his hands, weeping uncontrollably.”

Movies

Audrey Hepburn: The Secret WW2 History of a Dutch Resistance Spy

By David Crow

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Jimmy Stewart and the WW2 Mission That Almost Broke Him

By David Crow

Still, Gable seemed to be settling into a new happy rhythm of camaraderie on the base, frequent trips to London, and even playing the field. He renewed an affair with a pre-Lombard paramour in London, the English (and now married with children) Elizabeth Allan. Nonetheless, he may have been enjoying himself too much for his superiors’ liking.

Robert Matzen, author of Mission: Jimmy Stewart and the Fight for Europe and Fireball: Carole Lombard and the Mystery of Flight 3, told me he believed Gable had a death wish.

“Carole Lombard, his wife, wanted him to go fight and she’s killed,” Matzen said. “So he then decides, ‘Alright, I’ll go fight and hopefully I’ll be killed too.’ That’s why he wanted to be in the Eighth Air Force, because he wanted to die in a plane crash.” Also, unlike Stewart, Matzen stressed, Gable never fully adapted to military culture.

Said Matzen, “Gable was much more interested in being Clark Gable in England than Jim Stewart was interested in being Jimmy Stewart in England.” This weighed on the mind of Col. Hatcher, as did the growing understanding that every B-17 Gable was on became a prize for Nazi Germany.

The day the 351st arrived in England, Nazi radio propagandist William Joyce, aka “Lord Haw Haw,” broadcast from Berlin the following: “Welcome to England, Hatcher’s Chickens. Among whom is famous American cinema star, Clark Gable. We’ll be seeing you soon in Germany, Clark. You will be welcome there too.”

Adolf Hitler apparently adored Clark Gable, considering him his favorite American actor. A movie nut with a love for British and Hollywood cinema, Hitler even allegedly smuggled a film print of Gone with the Wind before it opened in the UK. Hitler therefore marked Gable as one of the most prized “war criminals” in the Allied Forces, offering a handsome reward to any German soldiers who can bring Gable to him alive.

The actor was terrified of being paraded through Berlin like King Kong and was only half-joking when he told a friend, “If Hitler catches me, the sonofabitch will put me in a cage like a gorilla and send me on a tour of Germany. If a plane that I’m in ever gets hit, I’m not bailing out.”

While his superiors might’ve appreciated the sentiment, they feared the humiliating spectacle of one of their gunners becoming a Nazi political tool—or the actor putting a bigger target on their bombing group. Additionally, Gable didn’t follow protocol as intended, at one point threatening a military doctor after the physician apparently said nonchalantly that Gable’s pal had hours to live while the young man was awake and listening. And, again, the opinion became that he wanted to be shot down.

So it was in October 1943, after only five combat missions, Capt. Gable was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal for “exceptionally meritorious achievement while participating in five separate bomber combat missions.” Hatcher apparently pulled the strings to get Gable out.

Clark Gable in 1960 on the set of his last film, The Misfits, with Marilyn Monroe and Montgomery Clift.

The End

Even though Gable’s time in combat ended in October of ’43, he still wound up with 50,000 feet of film at his disposal. He was apparently shocked when he learned the air force really didn’t care what he did with the footage since gunner recruitment was up. So he returned to Los Angeles, having been reassigned to the city’s photographic division. Allowed to cut the film at MGM, Gable put together five short films that could be used for instruction on operating B-17s. But by the time it made its way through the Pentagon’s chain of command… the war was over. The footage mostly still lies unused in government archives.

After finishing the films, Gable had expected to be assigned to a new bombing division in the Pacific Theater. As he waited months for the orders to come in, he found out on the news about the D-Day landing in Europe on June 6, 1944. Feeling forgotten and discarded by the Air Corps, he requested to be discharged on June 12, which was his right as a volunteer over the age of 42. A captain named Ronald Reagan granted Gable his discharge after 670 days of service.

Clark eventually re-acclimated to Hollywood and restarted his career, but by 1945 his days as “the King” were waning, and he saw more flops accompany his diminishing hits. He also had many more affairs with leading ladies, extras, and socialites. But for years he refused to marry, telling friends, “It wouldn’t be fair. I have nothing left to give.”

For the rest of his life, Clark mourned Carole, including on Jan. 15, 1944 when he was on hand for the launch of the SS Carole Lombard. Gable was supposed to speak at the event. Instead, he mostly cried.

Eventually he did remarry, twice, and finally had one child who wasn’t disowned in secret. But after the star died of a heart attack at age 59 in 1960, his fifth wife, Kay Williams, honored his final wishes: Gable was interred at Glendale’s Forest Lawn Memorial Park. Next to Ma.

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Text

⁂ Relaxed Day (Tooru Oikawa)

Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Birthday, Slice of Life, College AU

Word Count: 2,491

Pairing: Reader x Oikawa

World: Haikyuu!!

Author’s Note: This was written for a dear friend of mine, @euphylli ‘s birthday. I really hope you enjoy this, darling ♡ Have a wonderful birthday!!

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Oikawa Tooru was an eccentric man, that was fairly obvious to anyone that met him. This was especially apparent to anyone that he loved because he always went above and beyond for them in the most unusual of ways. When he first asked you out, he did so by dressing up with a candy-striper suit after convincing a few of the band kids to sing acapella behind him while he sang a modified version of Jason Derulo’s ‘Will you marry me’. All of this right in your homeroom, mind you. He had a knack for drawing attention to himself and he loved it.

You, on the other hand, weren’t very fond of the spotlight being on you. You weren’t introverted perse, you just didn’t feel comfortable when everyone was looking at you. This is part of the reason you didn’t tell anyone about your upcoming birthday. Having people fuss over you wasn’t very appealing and you just wanted your birthday to be a day of peace and relaxation.

When the nineteenth finally arrived, you awoke to zero messages pertaining to your birthday so you believed that you had succeeded.

It was strange, you though as you headed for the kitchen. While it was nice not to be bombarded with messages and phone calls, a small part of you also felt a bit sad that none of your friends had remembered. Shaking your head to dispel the thoughts, you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before dropping down onto the couch with a smile. A glance at the clock told you that the all-day Harry Potter marathon would be starting in just a few minutes.

You felt lucky that the marathon was running on your birthday and briefly wondered if it was a gift from the universe. The thought made you smile.

About twenty minutes into the first movie, there was a knock on your door. You glanced at it, leaning forward to see around the small slab of wall that sat between it and the couch, but you returned your eyes to the movie. The knocking grew louder and you threw your head back with a groan before you forced yourself up to answer the door.

‘I swear if it’s someone trying to sell something… oh.’ “Tooru?”

He smiled brightly at you, eyes shimmering under the light of the early morning. “Good morning, my love!” He pecked your lips before sliding past into the apartment.

You eyed him suspiciously as he sat down on the couch, stretching his long legs out under the coffee table. You shut and locked the door before approaching him. “Don’t you have morning practice?”

Tooru pouted at you, his lower lip jutting out as his hand found yours, tugging until you fell down beside him, fingers lacing with your own. “You’re not happy to see me? How cold~”

“Of course I’m happy.” You poked his forehead with a playful smile. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“What can I say?” He sighed dramatically, shifting so that his head was resting atop your thighs, eyes shimmering with a cat-like glint. “I’m a surprising man~”

Your hand instantly went to his soft locks, gently running your fingers through the strands, still damp from the shower he had taken before coming over. “You’re definitely something, Tooru.”

With a chuckle, he shifted onto his side so he could see the TV better, his hand resting on your bare knee. And that’s how the two of you stayed, enjoying both the movie marathon and each other’s company. At some point, you even got into a discussion about which house you believed suited one another. It was peaceful and even though he hadn’t wished you a happy birthday, you were content. You wanted to stay like this forever.

It wasn’t ’til around one pm that Tooru started to act nervous, shifting every few moments and constantly glancing at his phone. You frowned at the way he was angling it as if to hide the screen from you, but why would he do that? In the year and a half that the two of you had been dating, he had never hidden anything from you, partly because he was bad at it but mostly because he loved and trusted you.

Finally, an hour later, you had become annoyed enough to say something to him about his distracted behavior. “Tooru -”

At that exact moment, a message came through on his phone and he jumped up, giving you a panicked look. “Iwa-chan was injured!”

Your heart skipped a painful beat, the previous annoyance you felt being replaced with worry. “What? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know! Makki said he got into a fight with someone at Adventure Landing.”

“Why would he be there?”

“He’s babysitting his cousin today.” His eyes met yours and with just that look, you knew what he wanted.

With a nod, you rushed into the bedroom to get changed, throwing on the closest clothes you could get your hands on before returning to where he was waiting by the door, phone in one hand and keys in the other. He was chewing on his bottom lip, foot tapping against the floor as you slipped your shoes on.

“Let’s go check on Haji.”

Tooru nodded and the two of you left the house.

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Adventure Landing wasn’t nearly as packed as it usually was simply because it was midday on Wednesday, but there were still quite a few people hanging around, including teenagers skipping school and parents with small children. Tooru seemed to know exactly where to go, heading for the back where the stairs led to a small second-floor landing that overlooked the game room.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, you paused, a frown working its way onto your lips. The Aobajohsai team was sitting around the long table, joking and laughing with one another. Most of the Karasuno team was also there, along with Kuroo and Kenma from Nekoma. Your eyes fell on Iwaizumi, sitting at the end of the table having a conversation with Makki who sat beside him. He looked perfectly fine, not a scratch on his body – at least none that was visible.

Your heart jumped when you realized what was happening and before Tooru could say a word, you scowled at him, shoving his shoulder. “You jerk! I was really worried about Hajime!”

Upon hearing his name, the boy in question met your eyes, brow furrowed as he stood up. “Oi, Shittykawa. What did you do to Y/N?”

You huffed, gaze softening as you looked upon the uninjured male. “He told me that you got into a fight and were hurt!”

A collective set of oohs and groans passed through the group as the watched the scene, a couple of them facepalming. Iwaizumi’s eye twitched, his hand balled into a fist as he slowly approached your boyfriend. “Are you stupid? How could you worry them like that on their birthday, huh?!”

Tooru winced, quickly taking a few steps back to avoid being hit in the back of the head, but that put him closer to you so you took advantage, smacking him upside the head. “I’m sorry!” He pouted, his puppy dog eyes shifting between the two of you. “It was the only way I could think of to get them here!”

“How about, oh I don’t know, maybe asking them?” Makki rolled his eyes, an amused smirk on his lips.

Matsukawa clicked his tongue, dark eyes playful. “You should be careful, Oikawa. If you keep this up, Y/N might break up with you.”

“What?!” Tooru’s eyes widened, snapping over to you with a pleading look on his face. That was his biggest fear in life, losing you. “Y/N, I – I didn’t mean to -”

A heavy sigh passed your lips, expression softening at the terrified look dancing within his eyes. “I’m not breaking up with you, baby.” His shoulders visibly relaxed and he reached for your hand, but you pulled it away before he could grab it. “I’m still mad, though!”

Footsteps echoed on the stairs behind you, Hinata and Yaku chatting about the prizes they wanted to win. They paused at the top when they noticed you, their faces lighting up as they chorused, “Happy birthday, Y/N!!”

“We didn’t know you were here yet!” Hinata pouted, pulling you into a hug that you happily returned.

“Yeah,” Yaku scowled at Kenma, who quickly looked away. “You were supposed to message me when they got here!”

“We just arrived,” you offered him a smile to prevent him from getting angry at the younger boy.

The rest of the group exchanged looks before grabbing party poppers and chorusing, “Happy birthday, Y/N!”

Your heart warmed as your eyes swept across the group of friends you had accumulated over the years. All you had wanted for your birthday was to relax and watch the Harry Potter marathon, but… now that you were here, surrounded by people that loved and cared for you, you felt kind of silly for wanting that.

With a warm smile, Tooru carefully rubbed his thumb beneath your eye, collecting the tears that were threatening to fall. “Did you really think I’d forget, baby?”

“I should have known,” you chuckled, tugging at the hem of his shirt until he leaned down to capture your lips.

“Let’s party!!” Noya cheered, standing on his chair with one foot on the table. “To the laser tag room!”

Sugawara tried to scold him for getting on the table like that, but the smaller boy was already gone before the words could even form on his lips, several of the others following suit.

Tooru tugged you after them. “Let’s put them in their place!”

You laughed, the sound a welcome melody to your boyfriend.

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“Thank you so much,” you smiled at Makki and Mattsun, giving them hugs as they wished you another happy birthday. They, along with you and Hajime, were the only of the group left, standing outside the game center. Night had fallen and the place was about to close, but Tooru was taking forever in the bathroom.

Hajime and Makki exchanged a look before the former spoke up. “Why don’t you guys get Y/N home? I’ll check on Shittykawa and bring him home.”

You frowned, feeling concerned for your boyfriend. After sitting down to eat the various styles of pizza, he had started acting strangely, complaining of a stomach ache. You worried that he was experiencing a reaction or had gotten food poisoning, but the latter seemed less likely – if something was wrong with the food, surely the others would be feeling it, as well.

Noticing your reluctance, Hajime chuckled, his large hand ruffling your hair. “Don’t worry, I’ll get him home safe.”

Finally, you nodded, offering him a small smile. “Thanks, Hajime.”

His eyes narrowed at Makki. “You better drive safe! If anything happens to Y/N, Shittykawa will kill you, then I’ll bring you back and kill you myself.”

Makki laughed, twirling his keys around his finger. “I would kill myself if I ever hurt Y/N-chan~”

Mattsun opened the passenger door for you and bowed, offering you a grin.

“You should sit up front,” you offered. “There’s more room and you’re bigger than me.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind sitting in the back for the birthday royalty~”

“I’m not royalty!” You laughed before opening the back door of Makki’s Honda. “And I’m sure!”

With a shrug, he slid into the front seat, Makki starting the car. The ride back to your place consisted of the three of you loudly singing to whatever pop song happened to come over the radio. It was hella off-key and most of the time was spent laughing opposed to singing, but it was pretty fun for you.

When they pulled up to the house, you kissed them both on the cheek and thanked them for the ride before stepping out of the car. They stayed there until you unlocked the door and stepped inside before finally pulling away. You kicked off your shoes at the door, pulling the jacket from your body as you set the keys on the small table beside the door.

The day had been full of fun and excitement, but it had also been quite long and tiring. All you wanted was to take a nice hot bath with a birthday cake-scented candle you had bought for yourself lighting up the bathroom. The idea was heavily but, as you headed for the hallway, you saw something flicker through the curtains covering the sliding glass door.

For a moment, you just stood there, wondering if it was just your imagination. Just as you were about to continue, you saw another flash and curiosity got the better of you. You cautiously stepped toward the glass door, the wooden floor creaking under you. Just as you reached for the curtain, the door slid open, making you cry out in surprise, stumbling backward.

Tooru’s eyes widened, not expecting you to be there. He scrambled forward to catch you before you could hit the ground, holding you against his chest. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You rested your hand over your racing heart. “Why didn’t you come in through the front door?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Because your surprise is in the back yard.”

“My… surprise?” Your brow furrowed as you sent him a suspicious look. “Wasn’t the party the surprise?”

“One of them~” He smiled warmly, extending his hand to you. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” you responded sincerely and without hesitation, resting your hand against his.

His heart soared at the declaration and he had to remind himself to breathe. “Close your eyes.”

You did as he requested, feeling his grip on your hand tighten as he led you through the glass door into the backyard. You could hear him shuffling around and you strained your ears, but you were unable to tell what he was doing. After a few minutes, he moved so that he was standing behind you, hands on your hips. Warm breath fanned over your neck, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

“Open your eyes.”

Cautiously, your eyes slid open only to quickly widen in shock. Hundreds of paper lanterns were slowly floating up from the backyard, lit up like fireflies against the velvety night sky. There had to be at least two-hundred of them and it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen in your life.

“Happy birthday, Y/N.” His lips pressed a soft kiss beneath your ear, hands sliding across your body until his arms were wrapped protectively around you. You could feel his heart racing against your back as he waited for your reaction.

“It’s… beautiful,” you mumbled softly, a smile coming to your lips. You turned in his hold, arms going around his neck before pulling him down for a slow kiss.

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softforcal · 5 years

Text

Pong Master : Harry Styles

Summary: You’re Harry’s best friend and he invites you down to the tropics while he’s writing his new album. You’ve always been secretly into each other and it comes to a climax over a game of Strip Ping Pong.

Warnings: i mean. its smut. but it’s also soft.

Word Count: 9.4k

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When you’d arrived at the remote villa and realized that the casita living room had a ping pong table, it had been obvious that copious amounts of time would be spent with playing against Harry who was a known lover of the ‘sport.’

As one of his best friends in the whole world, Harry had invited you down to the tropics to hang out and have fun while he worked on a new album. You’d known when you agreed to the ‘vacation’ that a lot of his time would go towards working. Most of the people he invited in his entourage were musicians, you being practically the only one who had no obvious reason to be there.

But Harry had insisted on you coming. You supposed it made sense. He could spend hours working and surrounding himself with musically inclined people but at the end of the day, he often just wanted to collapse on the couch with you and put on some cheesy romantic movie that you’d both seen way too many times.

The house Harry had rented was huge, with its own studio, multiple bedrooms for everyone, a pool, a massive kitchen and two living rooms. A decently sized casita next to the pool had a bedroom and the room with the pool table, there was also a dart board and a large tv with a couch.

The property definitely had enough space for you to roam around in and do your own thing while people worked on the album, and the town and beach were only a short walk away. There was nothing about the situation that you could complain about.

Harry had assigned rooms and he claimed that there were a lot of factors he had considered that he was ‘not at liberty to discuss’ and people rolled with it, fanning out over the villa. He’d walked with you out to the casita, carrying your bag like the gentleman he was.

“So… why am I all the way out here?” you asked hesitantly as your fingers skimmed the top of the pool table, trying to sound nonchalant, but something must have slipped through the cracks because Harry frowned, setting your bag down.

“Put you out here cuz we’re going to be working a lot love, figured you could get away from the sounds in case we stay up late or start early.”

It was a good reason, “oh, i hadn’t thought of that.” you admitted, flashing a smile at Harry who still looked concerned.

“You didn’t think I wanted you out here to keep you seperate or-” he began but you cut him off by placing your hand on his heavily tattooed forearm.

“I mean, the thought crossed my mind, but it’s cool Harry, you just explained it to me, it’s good.” you reassured him.

He looked over your face, gauging if you were being legitimate or just trying to make him feel better. When he had decided that, as you said, it was no worry, he finally grinned, “plus… ping pong table!”

“Yeah.” you laughed as both of you turned your gaze to it.

“We can stay up as late as we want out here playing ping pong or watching movies and we won’t keep anyone else awake, yeah?” he asked, trying again to give you more insight into why he’d put you in the separate (and slightly secluded) Casita.

“What if I get lonely out here?” you asked, only half joking.

“Well you’re welcome inside any time you want love, my bed is big enough for the both of us, or I could come here, we haven’t had a proper sleep over in ages.” he sighed.

It had been quite some time since you’d shared a bed. It used to be something you two had done when you were younger, but as the years went by, things had gotten more difficult.

Not by anything either of you had done, but when it came out that Harry Styles’ best friend was a girl and bed sharing was a thing… well, the media had had a field day, and just like other relationships in his life, yours had been slightly marred from the limelight. Nothing that couldn’t be fixed, but it was a factor to consider whenever the two of you hung out.

Leaving his apartment in the morning after a night of crying from watching the titanic just didn’t have the same appeal as it once had when you realized you’d be all over the tabloids and internet within a few hours of getting home.

“Let’s get you settled then.” Harry suggested, once more picking up your bag and carrying it into the bedroom attached to the main casita area. The bed was huge and windows overlooked the ocean, “you also have the best view.” Harry pointed out.

You elbowed your best friend in the ribs before jumping onto the king sized bed. He set your bags down and joined you, the two of you jumping for a little bit before collapsing, backs pressing against the soft duvet as you stared at the ceiling, “this album is going to be a good one Harry, i can feel it.”

“I fucking hope so.”

---

You’d spent the entire first day with the group of musicians, checking out the villa then going into town to get groceries. You stuck to Harry’s side like glue, still not as close to the others in the group as you would have liked to be, but Harry didn’t mind.

His arm slung over your shoulder casually as you walked through the small supermarket. He was on one of his cleanses again, filling the shopping cart with all sorts of vegetables and fruits.

He’d held up a fruit you’d never seen before in your life, all spiney and yellow, “this can be juiced right?” he asked.

“How should I know?” you’d laughed, watching him toss it into the cart along with some coconuts and kiwis. He grabbed a little of everything, wanting to have the house stocked with as many tropical health foods as he could, things that would be easy enough to eat while working.

Harry had rented a large van for the duration of the stay and everyone had piled inside to be driven the short ten minute distance to town. With the added groceries it was obvious there wouldn’t be enough space for the large group and Harry, as always, was the first to volunteer to walk back instead of hitching a ride.

The road gave a beautiful view of the ocean and the warm tropical air was pleasant, the day too early to be too hot to handle, so you’d agreed to walk with him.

His musician friends had promised to have everything set up for working by the time you two walked back to the villa and Harry had waved his hand, saying “don’t worry about it.” because Harry rarely outwardly worried.

You’d chatted while you walked, discussing the vibe he wanted to accomplish and the lyrics he’d already started working on.

It had always been easy for you to talk to Harry. That was a perk of growing up together, you were completely comfortable around each other.

When you got back to the villa, someone had prepared a whole tray of sandwiches and sliced fruit. The main living room where they would be jamming had a whole glass wall section that opened up, exposing the pool and stunning view of the ocean.

You grabbed some food and went to the casita, leaving your door open as you ate, checking out the place you’d be living for the next few weeks while the soft sound of a guitar filled the room.

When you’d finished eating, you checked out the dart board, taking a few practice throws to see if you could get the hang of it so that when you finally competed against Harry, you’d be at least a little bit ahead.

Then you went to the tv, turning it on to see if it had Netflix which, thankfully, it did.

There were a few rom coms you hadn’t seen, the type of movie that you knew Harry would enjoy, so you made a mental note to remember to bring them up later.

As the day got hotter and the musicians had been working for a few hours, you decided to go for a swim in the pool. Putting on a cute little bikini you had bought specially for the trip, you grabbed a towel and left the casita.

People seemed to be taking a bit of a break. Harry still sat with Mitch and a writer, the three of them agonizing over a sheet of paper while others walked around the kitchen or sat in the shade on their phones.

You felt Harry’s eyes on you as you set down your towel and slid into the pool, enjoying the coolness of the water that contrasted the heat of the air.

There was a small commotion and by the time you turned to look, a huge splash had hit you in the face and you screamed, knowing exactly what had just happened.

Your best friend resurfaced, shaking his short shaggy curls like a dog, sending water flying everywhere. Harry’s hand pushed his hair out of his face and exposed his cheeky, dimpled grin.

He was still fully clothed and you laughed, “just couldn’t wait to get in the water huh?”

“Nope, looked invitin’.” he mused, swimming closer to you.

“Don’t even think about it Styles.” you warned but he was already trying to grab at you. His hands slipped against your skin as you wiggled away, splashing at him in an effort to escape. Harry’s laugh was music to your ears as you managed to evade his prying hands and the promise of being fully dunked under the water.

He chased you around the pool for a little while, the two of you splashing at each other and giggling, then Mitch called Harry back to continue to work.

“This isn’t over.” Harry promised. His hands went to the side of the pool and you watched his shoulders, strong under the soaking wet button up he was still wearing. Harry easily pulled himself out of the pool, shaking some of the water off of himself, discarding his shirt and his pants on the pool deck which made everyone groan. Mitch threw Harry a towel and he padded inside to get a change of clothes.

You continued to swim around, grabbing a floaty to lounge on while you listened to their progress for a little while.

Harry tried to control himself, but his eyes kept going to you.

Laying flat on an ice cream shaped blow up, eyes closed as you tanned, you were gorgeous. He swallowed, tearing his gaze away from you, he focused back to his work but, like clockwork, his eyes found you again and again and again.

When you finally left to go back to your casita, Harry was able to concentrate.

At around dinner time, you came back out. Everyone was still working and the sound of Harry singing comforted you while you began to cook. They were all busy so you thought it would be nice if you made dinner for everyone.

Spaghetti and meatballs were easy enough to make. While the noodles cooked and the meatballs heated in the oven you chopped up a large salad, knowing that not everyone would be down for the carbs.

When the smell of cooking food reached the group working, they finally took a break. Harry joined you in the kitchen, standing next to you, eyes going to the pasta.

“Look at you, what a chef.” he mused, watching as you took a strand of pasta out of the boiling water to see if it was cooked.

You handed it to him and he put it in his mouth, nodding his head to tell you it was done.

He silently helped you, carrying the pot to the sink where you set up a colander. You put the finished pasta back in the empty pot and he set it down, grabbing plates for everyone while you took the meatballs from the oven, mixing everything.

The two of you had always just clicked, working in sync. Always aware of where the other was.

A light touch on the small of your back had you moving slightly to make room for Harry and a little bump of your hip against him would make him laugh, getting out of your way.

His friends watched the two of you work and everyone helped take the food to the large dinner table.

Harry sat at the head of the table, immediately moving a chair out for you with his foot as you took a seat on his right side.

As everyone ate, you discussed music, world politics, what was on the top charts, that sort of thing. Whenever Harry felt like you weren’t putting much into the conversation because you were shy, he’d direct things at you. He knew you inside and out so it was easy enough for him to slip things into the conversation.

You found yourself getting more and more comfortable with the others at the table and soon they were even asking you questions, eager to get to know you.

Finally someone brought up the elephant in the room, “so you two have never dated?”

“Nope.” you answered.

“Not that I haven’t tried, this girl has rejected me more times than I can count.” Harry teased, earning a shove against his shoulder as you laughed.

“Don’t listen to him.” you told everyone, “he’s a liar.”

“Ouch, that hurts love.” Harry mocked sadness, but a cheeky grin spread over his face, dimples flashing as he looked at you with complete adoration in his eyes.

The group allowed you to change the topic but it was obvious to everyone at the table, besides you and Harry of course, that no one really believed that you and Harry were ‘just’ friends. The way you and Harry acted together screamed ‘couple’ and everyone knew it was just a matter of time before you two realized it as well.

When dinner finished Harry made everyone thank you for the lovely food and refused to let you help clean up, hands settling on your shoulders to make you stay seated while he grabbed plates.

A few of his friends went to the kitchen to help clean up and you stayed at the table, chatting with his friends. One of them got particularly daring and made a comment about their productivity being great after you stopped distracting Harry from the pool but the suggested connotation of what he was saying went completely over your head.

When everything was done and the table was clean, the group went back to work, Harry sending you a quick wink before you walked back to the casita.

You busied yourself on your laptop and a few hours flew by. You didn’t notice the music outside coming to an end until your casita door opened and Harry peaked his head in, “great! You’re still awake!” he grinned, inviting himself in. He came to join you on the couch.

“How was the writing?” you asked.

“It’s going good, think we’re almost done a song.” he said, “anythin’ good on netflix?”

You told him about the movies you’d found and just like that, the two of you were curled next to each other, your head on his shoulder as you watched a cheesy movie that made you both laugh together.

It must have been around one in the morning by the time he finally left, saying “sleep well, if you get scared just come in th’ house, my door will be unlocked.”

The hug you gave him at the door lasted just a tad longer than usual as you both enjoyed the feeling of being wrapped in each others arms, then he offered a small smile and left. You watched him walk to the main house, not looking back.

You slept well that night, surrounded by plush white blankets.

Sunlight seeping through the window woke you up and you smiled, stretching your arms over your head as you rolled out of bed. It was another warm day so you slipped on some shorts and a shirt.

People were already awake and making music, the sounds greeted you as you opened your door and padded to the main house, offering a small wave and a smile to the guitarists who waved back.

Harry was in the kitchen. His hair was a mess, sticking up every which way. He was shoving vegetables into a juicer, eyebrows furrowed with focus.

“You look tired.” you mused, brushing past him to open the fridge.

“Had no one to snuggle with.” he answered, “couldn’t sleep.”

“Hmm, you mean your tinder dates didn’t work out for ya last night?” you teased.

Harry rolled his eyes, groaning loudly, he turned to look at you, “you look rested. I suppose your tinder date worked out quite well, huh, love?”

“Oh definitely.” you said with enthusiasm, pouring yourself some juice, “made him sneak out at dawn to escape, wouldn’t have wanted my keeper to see the guy or he would have been a gonner.”

“Your keeper?” Harry looked perplexed.

You laughed, “You. You’re my keeper Harry.”

“Hmm.” he crossed his arms over his chest, “I mean, if you’re going to make that sort of judgement about me, at least call me sir or daddy or something more fun than your ‘keeper.’”

“I am never calling you daddy... or sir.” you said pointedly, taking a sip of your juice.

Harry quirked an eyebrow, “never say never love.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning, “piss off.”

“You love me.” he stated, reaching out an arm that wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you to his chest.

He was warm and smelled distinctly like Harry, a mix of expensive cologne and the cherry chapstick he sometimes more.

Someone called Harry’s name and he let you go, “so what are you doing today?” he asked.

“Thought I’d go check out the town a little.” you answered.

He frowned, “wish I could come with but I gotta finish this song-”

“I know, it’s okay, that’s why you’re here Harry. Don’t worry. Your work comes first.” you assured him, reaching out to give his hand a little squeeze.

He nodded, smiling slightly, “be careful.”

“I will.”

He grabbed his sloshy, unappetizing, orange coloured juicer drink and left the kitchen to join the group waiting for him.

True to your word, you spent the day in town looking around. There were so many interesting things you were just itching to take a picture of and send to Harry but you held yourself back, not wanting to distract him from his work. So instead you saved the photos and vowed to show them to him later when he finally had time.

In other circumstances, you may have been lonely, but with your earbuds in, you made the most of it. On one hand, you were alone, but on the other, you were in one of the most beautiful places in the world, all expenses paid in full by your superstar best friend who had persuaded you to come by claiming he couldn’t live without you. Life was good and you would be damned if you allowed a little isolationism to rain on your parade.

The dark grey tropical storm clouds had began to form as you walked home. By the time you got back to the villa, it was pouring rain and the loud rumbling of thunder cracked across the sky.

Going straight into the back of the villa, you made an effort to run past the pool and reach the safety of the casita. People were still playing guitar and everyone looked up as you ran past.

Harry put his guitar down quickly, running to catch up to you. You hadn’t noticed his approach so when his arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground you squealed.

“Harry put me down!” you said, knowing instinctively whose body was pressed against your back.

“You’re all wet love!” he laughed, the sounds melding with the giggles coming from his friends who were watching the two of you in amusement.

“We’re in the rain!” you screamed as he set you down, “and now you’re all wet too!”

You turned to look at Harry and he shrugged, “water doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah I know, but I’m bothered.” you stated, running to the safety of your casita. He stood in the rain and watched you, “now you have to go change!” you called.

He shrugged, sporting a massive grin on his face. You sighed, laughing at his carefree antics. Once again you watched him head back to the main house.

It wasn’t even dinner time when there was a knock at your door. You stood to get it and Harry was standing there, looking a little worse for wear. It was still storming outside and the mere run from the main house to the casita had obviously taken a toll on the windswept rockstar.

He had a bunch of food on a plate in his hands that he set down on the coffee table after you’d let him in. “done for the day.” he explained, “thought we’d have a movie night or something.”

You agreed immediately, more than ready to finally get some time with your best friend. After choosing a tv series to start together, you ate and laughed and had a generally great time, which wasn’t surprising, you always enjoyed yourself with Harry.

It was getting late when you turned the tv off, wanting to talk instead of watch. The way Harry turned his entire body to look at you, giving you his complete and undivided attention, was always something you’d appreciated about him.

Getting a chance to show him all the cool things you’d seen in town on your phone, Harry vowed to find time the next day to go with you, needing a change of scenery already to help get his ‘creative juices flowing.’

He was in the middle of a sentence when you yawned, Harry immediately stopped, “so I’m boring you then?” he teased.

You grinned, stretching your arms over your head as you groaned, “definitely.”

His fingers were tickling your sides before you could even blink as his large body pinned you down against the couch to stop you from thrashing and accidentally kicking him. You squealed loudly, eyes clenching as you tried to get him off of you but he was unrelenting.

“Have you had enough?!” he asked.

“Yes!”

“Am I still boring you?!”

“No!”

“Not very convincing.” he tutted.

“Harry!” you screamed.

He finally pulled away, getting off of you to go back to his corner of the couch.

You were breathing heavily as you wiped the tears from you eyes, “you’re such a dick.”

“Do you want more tickles?” he asked in shock.

“No!” you said, kicking your legs out to act as a barrier so he couldn’t get to you again, “no more tickles.”

He watched you in silence as you caught your breath. All that could be heard was the sound of the storm outside.

“Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked at him with curiosity before saying, “yeah, of course.”

“Couldn’t sleep last night.” he said, reminding you of your conversation from the morning.

When you had been younger and you’d had sleepovers, you had always slept in separate beds but whenever one of you couldn’t sleep, you’d wiggled your way into the others bed and that always seemed to solve the problem. You hoped, for the sake of his efficiency, that staying with you would get him some well deserved shut eye, he needed to be top of his game to make the new album.

“And it’s raining pretty hard.” you pointed out, not wanting him to go out in the terrible weather yet again.

Harry turned to look out the window and you admired his side profile for a moment before his green eyes came back to yours, “want to sleep now?” he asked.

“Sure.” you smiled, standing from the couch.

He followed you into the bedroom and watched you grab your sleeping clothes. You went to the bathroom and he waited for you to change. When you were done, you opened the door and began to brush your teeth. He leaned in the doorway and watched you.

“What?” you asked, mouth full of sudsy toothpaste.

“We haven’t done this in a while.” he pointed out.

You shrugged, rinsing out your mouth, “shit happens.”

“Missed it.”

“Me too.”

He offered you a small smile and you passed him the tooth brush automatically. You hadn’t had a sleepover in a ages, but old habits die hard, and it felt natural to offer the unprepared boy your toothbrush.

You moved out of his way and he brushed his teeth, now it was your turn to watch. He had grown a lot since you were kids, obviously. He was taller, broader and his skin was littered with beautiful black marks that each had their own quirky story. But he was still your Harry.

He finished up and the two of you walked back into the bedroom. He began to take his shirt off then stopped, “you’re okay if I-”

“Yeah, just as long as you’re not fully naked.” you waved your hand, getting onto your side of the bed.

Harry opened his mouth to say something cheeky back but you yawned again and his words caught in his throat, watching the way your shirt pulled up slightly, exposing just the smallest sliver of tummy.

He looked away, pulling his shirt off and wriggling out of his pants. He got into the bed quickly, hiding the effect you were having on him with the blanket. You turned off the light and Harry turned, lying on his side facing you, “remember when I used to sing to you during thunderstorms?” he asked.

You turned to face him as well, not being able to help the smile that came to your face, “yeah. You always did it cuz you thought I was scared but I think you just liked singing to me, even then.”

Harry smiled, just able to make out your soft features in the low light, “always love singing to ya, why do you think I make you come to almost every concert?”

It was a pretty great perk, front row tickets to every show you could make it to. He’d even taken you on the first leg of his solo tour before you had to go back home for work.

“I figured you invited me so you could point me out to everyone as your best friend and make all the girls in the audience even softer for you.” you teased, “great way to get into any lady’s pants.”

Harry scoffed, rolling onto his back so he could run his fingers through your hair, “you and your smart mouth.”

“You love me.” you said, repeating his own words from the morning.

Harry said nothing and after a few minutes, you assumed he had fallen asleep. Harry had a knack for falling asleep, which is why it was so aggravating to him when he had nights where rest was difficult.

You fell into a peaceful sleep not long after.

The morning sunshine woke you up for a second day in a row and you stretched your arms over your head only to hit something solid.

Harry groaned, moving your arm out of his face, “ow.” he said, voice low.

You realized you were curled up against his chest and when you raised your hands to stretch, you had completely smacked him in the face.

His arms tightened around you, keeping you close, Harry still not ready to wake up yet.

You allowed him to keep you secure, finger tracing over one of his birds under his collar bone, enjoying the warmth radiating off his body.

It felt natural to be this close. But there was a feeling underneath the comfort, something that you’d been trying to ignore for years. You two were best friends, but damn, you’d have to be blind to say you didn’t find Harry attractive and even then, you were sure his voice alone could woo a girl into taking her panties off. But you had always pushed it aside, convinced nothing would ever happen.

You two were so comfortable with each other that you put on face masks and watched rom coms for god's sake! Harry only saw you as a friend, and you were sure of that. Or at least, part of you was.

But things had been changing. You remembered the way he’d reacted with the first tabloid that wrote that you and him were an item, with pictures of you leaving his place in the morning acting as ‘proof.’

He had been very nonchalant about it. You were the one who began to pull away. You knew that, but it had been hard for you to stay at that level with him without getting deeper into the feelings that you knew had always been there.

And here you were, wrapped in his arms again for the first time in years. And it brought everything flooding back.

Everything you’d been so desperate to keep locked and hidden.

Harry could feel you stiffen in his arms, “you okay love?” he asked, looking down at you with sleepy eyes.

You nodded, “yeah, I just, uh, this isn’t comfy.” you lied.

“Here.” he said, easily pushing you around so your back was to his chest, his arms pulling you back so he could spoon you, “better?”

You sighed. Both positions had been perfect.

“Yeah.” you answered.

You could feel his breath delicately teasing your shoulders and the back of your neck, setting your entire body on fire with each exhale. One breath made you shiver and Harry’s grip on your hips tightened, his eyes flashing over, “don’t move.” he stated, suddenly sounding very commanding as opposed to the sleepy, cuddly guy he had been moments earlier.

“What do you-” you began to ask, but then you felt it. The unmistakable press of something long, and hard, against your ass.

Your breath caught in your throat and once more, you tensed under his hands.

“Fuck.” Harry cursed, pulling away from you and sliding his legs out of the bed. He sat there for a moment, grabbing his pants that he then haphazardly pulled on, “m’ sorry.” he mumbled before racing from the room, not even bothering to grab his shirt on the way out.

You laid there in a stunned silence for a while. Lots of guys got morning wood. It had its own name didn’t it? ‘Morning wood.’ You thought about it for a few minutes, feeling conflicted about the whole situation.

The ‘vacation’ was planned for at least two weeks, with the option of a one week extension if necessary, and you were on day three. Even if you wanted to talk to Harry about the whole thing, it was so early into the trip and if you were just making shit up, or if he didn’t feel the same way… then it would be an awkward remainder of the trip.

You cussed, burying your face in the pillow that still smelt like him.

---

You didn’t see Harry again until lunch time, hoping to sneak into the main house and grab some food while the musicians were all working, but as you entered the kitchen you almost bumped into Harry, who had been reaching for something from a shelf and turned abruptly.

“Hey.” he said, looking down at you.

“Hey.” you retorted, hating yourself immensely.

“Hungry?” he asked, holding up the protein powder he’d gotten off the shelf.

“Think I’m just going to grab some fruit then I’m heading down to the beach.” you answered, stepping away from him to grab something from the fruit bowl.

“Right, uh… well, be careful.” he said, “and uh, have fun yeah?”

You nodded, grabbing your food and leaving, feeling the heat in your skin. You cursed yourself the entire walk to the casita and then the entire walk down to the beach, you had just made it awkward even though you told yourself you wouldn’t.

The day at the beach was nice. You walked into town again, when you got bored you got dinner from a small hole in the wall restaurant enjoying some small chat with the nice women who worked there.

Taking your time and enjoying yourself, you finally began to walk home, having successfully avoided Harry for practically the full day. You even managed to sneak past the group who was still working and slip into the Casita without seeing him.

It was dark when you finally got a text from him, ‘where are you?’

‘In the casita.’

Within moments there was a knock at the door and you sighed, standing and opening it to see a very worried looking Harry, “where have you been all day?” he asked, shoulders tense.

“I told you I went to the beach, and then I went to town and got dinner-”

“Shoulda messaged, I was worried.” he said.

“Well you could have messaged me.” you pointed out.

Harry sighed, running a hand through his mess of dark curls, “can I uh, can I come in?”

You moved the door wider for him and he slipped past you, walking straight to the ping pong table he picked up a paddle, “wanna play a game?” he asked.

“Sure.” you said, wondering what he had up his sleeve.

You picked up a paddle and Harry grabbed the ball, tossing it in his hands a few times, “so here’s the deal.” he stated, “every time you miss the ball, I get to ask you a question and you have to answer honestly, or... you strip.”

You scoffed at him before you realized he was being serious, “Harry-”

Before you could finish, he had smacked the ball towards you and you missed it, “your choice love.”

You sighed, really not wanting to start the game off with a truth. You had no idea what sort of uncomfortable question he would as you, noticing the very odd look in his eye that you had never seen before.

You slipped off a sock, holding it up for him, “happy?”

“Just hit the ball, pet.” he instructed, eyes looking determined and ready.

You volleyed and he countered, you managed to hit it back only for him to wack it at you again, this time you missed. You took off another sock.

This continued until you had removed both socks, your necklace, and your hair tie. Finally, you had to take something else off and it would actually begin to matter.

Harry eyed you as you stared at the ball that he had just smashed past you. Reaching for the hem of your shirt you pulled it off, thankful that you were wearing a cute bra underneath.

“Why are you so good at this?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

It was no secret that Harry adored ping pong.

You had no clue why you’d agreed to this game.

Harry didn’t say anything, eyes fixed on you as you smashed the ball towards him, for the first time, he missed it, eyes having been more pleasantly engaged with the beautiful details of your bra.

“Fuck.” he cursed.

Harry began to unbutton his shirt and you watched as he took it off, throwing it onto the couch. With his entire chest exposed, he looked angelic, and you would have bet that your already shit ping pong abilities, had just gotten ten times worse.

He picked up the ball, sending it your way and you tried to counter it but failed.

Again, he didn’t say anything. No teasing quip about having to make a choice between your pants or a truth, no cheeky grin, just an unreadable gaze that stayed fixed on you as you pushed down your pants.

He’d seen you in a bikini before, but there was something more intimate about the bra and panties adorning your skin. You felt very exposed for the first time, an uncomfortable feeling washing over you.

“Harry-”

“Hit the ball.”

You sighed, making a feeble attempt, the ball hit the net, not even going to Harry’s side.

“Try again.” he encouraged, finally giving you a glimmer of the best friend you knew and loved.

You grabbed the ball and served again, he hit it back but this time he didn’t fire it quite so hard and you wondered if he was giving you a chance on purpose. The back and forth continued for a little while and it solidified the idea that he was suddenly going easy on you, his strokes lacking the usual power that would have had all your clothes gone by this point.

He finally seemed to get tired of it and smashed the ball at you again, you missed it and Harry set down his paddle, crossing his beautifully tattooed arms over his chest.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Gonna ask you a truth now, unless you fancy taking off that cute little bra fo’ me.” although his words may have been teasing, his stone cold gaze was not.

You gave in, also putting down your paddle, “What do you want to know?”

“Do you ever want to be more than friends?” he asked, “like, would ya ever consider datin’ me?”

You were taken aback by his question. Not that you hadn’t been worried it would be asked. You weren’t sure what you had been worried about but the anxious feeling of something creeping up your spine was proof that your anxiety had not been unmerited.

“I uh…” you bit at your lip, “Harry I don’t want to ruin our friendship-”

“Who says you’ll be ruinin’ it?”

You scoffed, feeling tears in your eyes, not sure how they got there, “you’re Harry fucking Styles, come on, you have your pick of super models and singers and actresses-”

“So?”

“So I can’t afford to think that way Harry!” you almost screamed, hands balling at your sides, “I don’t get you! You bring me around to all this shit and I hear about your flings and I’m there for you when stuff doesn't work out with these girls and I keep myself at a distance and you invite me here where I feel like a complete outsider because everyone is doing something to help you write your new album and I’m not-”

“Who says you’re not helping?” he asked, coming around the ping pong table to approach you, hands outstretched and searching for your own in an effort to calm you down,

You allowed him to grab your hands, his thumbs stroking your palms that he faced upwards, something that always had a soothing effect on you.

“Harry of course I’m not helping-”

“Wrote a song about you today.” he interrupted you.

You rolled your eyes, “great, what's it called? Friend zone? The story of a girl who was never good enough? My dumb best friend-”

“Stop that.” Harry snapped sternly, eyes piercing and full of intensity, “who ever said you’re not good enough?”

“The magazines-” you began, thinking about those articles who had always skimmed over you, the articles who made it seem like your only importance in life is how you related to the famous Harry Styles. The magazines who would gush about any other woman Harry was ever seen with, any girl but you, besides the initial magazine cover where they’d described you as ‘an unknown girl’ not ‘unnamed raven-haired beauty’ or ‘unknown gorgeous bombshell’ as they’d described his other flings in the past.

“What about the magazines love?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed with concern, hands continuing to try to relax you.

“They always-” you stammered, “they just… they said I was a nobody, they never even-”

“I made it clear from the start that the magazines weren’t supposed to write about ya pet.” Harry said, “I made that clear so you wouldn’t have to worry bout this shit but here you are worrying again.”

You looked up at him.

Once again, he’d done something and put a lot of thought into it to protect you, and once again you were reacting to it all wrong. Just like with him giving you the casita to stay in.

You sighed, “fuck! I’m so confused!”

“Never wanted you to have pressure, never wanted it to come between our friendship-” Harry began again.

“Friendship.” you repeated his words back to him as you took your hands away from his, “friendship, Harry.”

“Yes it’s a bloody fucking friendship!” Harry finally snapped, throwing his hands in the air, “because I’ve never had the fucking guts to tell ya how I feel about ya! Never had the guts to do this-” he grabbed your face, pressing his lips to yours.

You were shocked for a moment before you melted into the kiss, hands bunching against the waistband of his pants as he pulled you closer. His tongue slid against your bottom lip and you opened your mouth for him, longing for him to deepen the kiss.

But he didn’t, instead he pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours. His thumbs rubbed at your cheeks, “you gonna answer my question or what love?”

“What was the question?” you asked, still in a daze.

“Do you wanna be more than friends?”

“God yes.” you breathed. The words had no sooner left your mouth than his lips were on yours again, finally deepening the kiss as one of his hands pulled away from your face, going to wrap around your body and press against the small of your back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

It was a blessing that you both had already taken off some of your clothes, skin pressing against skin and sending warmth radiating through your body.

Harry bent down, hands both moving to your ass as he lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bedroom, closing the door behind you with his foot.

He placed you gently onto the bed, getting in top of you as you tried to push down his pants. Harry grinned against your lips and you giggled, causing you both to laugh.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” you said.

“Took us long enough wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your lips.

Instead of answering, you focused on getting his pants down, finally succeeding you realized he had not been wearing underwear and your laugh ran through the room, “of fucking course you’re not wearing anything under these!” you teased, pulling at his pants and letting them smack down against his skin again, “what were you going to do if I got another ball past you?”

This guy had challenged you to strip ping pong while wearing only a shirt and pants. You wanted to roll your eyes at it and hate the cockiness that radiated off of him as he answered “knew I’d win, love” but the confidence in his voice made your stomach feel fluttery.

“Cuz I’m bad or cuz you’re a ping pong master?” you asked, moaning slightly as his lips moved down to your neck, finding your sweet spot faster than you could even think.

“Bit a’ both.” he answered.

You laughed, pushing at his chest, “take it back!”

“Make me.” he said, biting at your collarbone.

You groaned, fingers tangling in his beautiful curls and pulling him back up so his lips were on yours again.

He ground down against you and a deep moan vibrated from his chest from the feeling of his bare cock against the thin fabric of your already damp panties.

“Condom-” you began but he was already ahead of you, reaching into the back pocket of the jeans that were haphazardly stuck just above his knees.

“Take your panties off.” he instructed, rolling of of you and onto his back so he could wiggle out of the confines of his pants.

You quickly got rid of the fabric that had been keeping him from being inside of you and Harry rolled on the condom, “bra too, love.” he reminded you.

Rolling your eyes you unhooked your bra tossing it across the room as he once more settled between your legs, “did you just roll your eyes at me?” he grinned.

“Wouldn’t be the first time Styles.” you answered.

His hand came to grab at your jaw and his gaze darkened, your laughter stopped, eyes searching his as he looked down at you in a predatory manner, “gonna apologize or what, pet?”

You would have laughed in any other situation but you’d never seen Harry serious like this. The other morning when he’d suggested you call him ‘daddy’ or ‘sir’ it had been light hearted, but looking into his eyes now, you realized that it had come from a place inside him that was decidedly not light of fluffy in the slightest.

“I’m uh… I’m sorry?” you said, trying to give him what he was asking for, but not quite sure how to do it, still a little shocked that you were seeing a new side of him that he’d only ever hinted at existing.

Harry stared at you for a moment then chuckled, letting go of your chin as he rested his forehead against your shoulder, “fuck, sorry, I’m uh, I’m just used to uh…”

“Being the dom.” you finished for him.

“Yeah. You into that sort of thing?” his hand reached between your bodies, grabbing his dick so he could brush it against you, teasing you as you waited with anticipation.

“I could be but I mean, it’s something we’d have to talk about.” you said, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the familiar scent of your best friend that you were so accustomed too.

“A chat for another time then?”

“Hmm.” you hummed, “but I meant it earlier, no daddy or sir.”

“Like I said earlier,” he slid inside of you and you both groaned loudly, “never say never love.”

His lips attacked yours again as he kept still inside of you, allowing you to adjust to his size. When your fingernails dug into his shoulders he took that as a sign to move, pulling almost all the way out slowly, before pushing back in with a harsh snap of his hips.

You moaned into his mouth and Harry ate it up, grinning, “sound so pretty fo’ me.”

A smile spread across your face again as you opened your eyes, looking up at the guy you’d loved for years. The guy who’d been with you through thick and thin. The guy who held your hand during scary films or cried with you when a dog died in a movie. The guy who had picked you up more times than you could count, dusting you off and giving you a little pat on the back with a word of encouragement.

Your chest felt tight, heart swelling with emotion.

“You okay?” Harry asked with concern, stopping his motions as he stared down at you.

“Yeah just… uh… just ignore me.” you laughed, pulling his lips back to yours, “I’m just really happy.”

Harry grinned and it was the biggest smile you’d ever seen, his already gorgeous features somehow reached an angelic level, which was saying something. “Me too.” he said, pressing soft kisses all over your face as his motions picked up again.

You tried to focus on how good he was making you feel but there was just something about the fluttering in your chest that was making the whole thing almost comical and Harry could tell, laughing slightly again, “you know, this whole giggling thing isn’t doin’ much for my ego pet.” he warned you.

“Ignore me.” you told him.

“Could never do that.” he assured you, “think the problem is that this is too soft for you.”

You almost laughed again, “soft is good though.”

“Soft is great.” he agreed, “but rough is somethin’ else entirely.” he nipped at your jaw, waiting for your reaction.

Finally you gave in, thinking ‘what the hell’ you were past the point of no return regardless.

“I guess if it’s your speciality-” you began but you were never able to finish your thought because he had pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach, grabbing your hips and maneuvering your ass up as he slammed into you from behind.

This was not something you could laugh about.

In the new angle, Harry was hitting a spot inside of you that made your toes curl, mind unable to form words. The most you could do was grab onto the bed sheets and hope you weren’t loud enough for people from the main house to hear you.

Harry’s grip on your waist was unrelenting and the sound of skin slapping skin and moans filled the room.

Now that you didn’t have to look at your best friend, there wasn’t much to giggle about, especially with him pounding into you like his life depended on it.

You’d always heard hype about Harry in bed but being in the heat of it was, first, something you’d never in a million years expected to be, and second, a complete mind fuck because you’d heard he was amazing, hell, you’d heard he was a god, but even then, the word seemed to be lacking.

The small groans leaving his lips were music to your ears, having always adored his voice, this was a whole new ball field and you had to admit, you loved it.

His hand wrapped around the front of your bodies, reaching between your legs to rub against your clit. You moaned louder, feeling an orgasm begin to build tight in your stomach.

Another low groan left Harry’s lips as you clenched around him, his eyes closed for a moment, allowing his head to loll back and just enjoy the moment. But he couldn’t keep his gaze off of you for too long, once more focusing on your gorgeous back and the way your bum looked with each thrust.

His hand ached to give you a little smack.

Just a little one.

He’d tapped your ass once or twice before but it had always resulted in giggles and chasing, it had always been friendly, not meaning to bring pain as well as pleasure.

His grip tightened on your waist as he contemplated it for a moment, finally deciding it was not the time. You could discuss choking and spanking and all the ‘good stuff’ another day, but for now, he wanted to see you.

Harry wanted to enjoy the face he’d grown so used to seeing. The face that grinned at him whenever he got nervous on stage or offered a small smile when he was getting worried about being late or having big meetings. The face that he’d woken up to that morning and felt a devastatingly deep urge to kiss.

He pulled out of you and you began to protest when he flipped you over again, you landed on your back and Harry immediately slipped into you again, grabbing one of your legs to put over his shoulder.

Just like the first position change, the new angle had him going even deeper and you wondered for a moment what another new position would bring, but before you could think too hard about it, the feeling of him in your lower abdomen made everything else disappear.

He pressed a kiss to your knee where it was hooked over his shoulder, one hand on your thigh to keep you there.

With your eyes closed, enjoying the sensations, Harry thought you looked ethereal.

He’d had many dream about this moment. Many hours had been dedicated to wondering what this would be like if it ever happened but Harry’s imagination seemed to be quite lacking, the image he’d had in his mind paled in comparison to reality.

He swallowed thickly, overcome by a sudden surge of emotion as he watched you get closer and closer to the edge because of him.

“Harry-” you said, reaching out your hands, eyes still closed as you searched for him.

He took your leg off of his shoulder and repositioned himself in missionary, letting out a groan as your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling his lips to yours.

You squeezed around him again and Harry bit on your lip, eyebrows furrowing as the feeling engulfed him, his movements becoming sporadic as he chased his high.

The new pattern of thrusts made you cum around him and you gasped, whimpers leaving your mouth. Your pulled at his hair lightly and that small amount of pain mixed deliciously with the way you were fluttering around him, dragging him over the edge with you.

Lips touching as you both panted, bodies still shaking from your orgasms.

He kissed you softly, a hand coming up to cup your face.

You both opened your eyes around the same time, the giddy, giggly feeling returning as you enjoyed finally being this close.

“Be right back.” he said, kissing your nose before he got off of you and went to the bathroom to discard the condom.

You got under the covers, opening them for Harry as he entered the room. When you were comfortably settled under the thin, white duvet, he pulled you to his chest.

Your naked bodies pressed against each other but you fit like puzzle pieces, having always meant to be connected. You cursed yourself for not trying this before, especially since it felt so natural now that you had.

Your fingers traced the tattoos on his arms, listening to the fast thumping of his heart in his chest.

“So you wrote a song about me and it wasn’t called friend zone right?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Harry chuckled, staring at the ceiling as he ran his fingers through your hair, “thought you’d forgotten about that.”

“Not a chance. So tell me what it’s about?”

“Been thinkin’ about it for a while. It’s about being in love with your best friend-”

“You love me Styles?” you asked, looking up at him.

Harry looked down, “thought it was obvious.”

You buried your head in his chest to hide your flushed skin as his arms wrapped protectively around you, “i’ve made a mess of things haven’t I?’ he asked.

Looking up at him again, you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw, “no. I love you too Harry. I always have.”

“Always?”

You groaned, “yes always!”

His dimples showed as he grinned, “we’re both fucking idiots aren't we?”

“Understatement of the century.” you both just smiled, adoring each other, “hey.... putting me in the Casita didn’t have anything to do with you planning on fucking me sometime this trip did it Harold?”

“Erm…” his skin turned slightly pink and you smacked his chest lightly, “i mean i thought about it!” Harry admitted, “didn’t think it would actually happen but then the whole thing happened this mornin’ and i’ve been wound up for hours love. When you wore that bikini yesterday? Part of me thought you’d done it on purpose, jus for me.”

“I had no idea it affected you so much… or I would have worn it sooner.”

“You’re a fucking minx you know that?” he laughed, “maybe this is why I never told you how I felt before, because you’re such a tease.”

“You love it.” you insisted.

Harry sighed, “I love you. Even if you are the biggest fucking tease I’ve ever met.” he paused for a moment, “so on a scale of one to ten with one being ‘it’s not that bad’ and ten being ‘I fucking hate it’ how do you really feel about the word Daddy?”

-------

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dailytomlinson · 4 years

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Louis Tomlinson admitted he 'loves' his One Direction band mates, as he hit out at the idea of members 'chatting s***' about a group once they'd split for 'cool points.'

The singer, 28, was speaking to Rolling Stone Magazine about his debut album Walls on Wednesday, when he gushed about his time with Harry Styles, Liam Payne, and Niall Horan, and former member Zayn Malik.

The Kill My Mind singer is 'super proud' about his stint with the boy band and would never say anything bad about the group as he thinks it looks 'desperate' when solo artists slam their beginnings.

After Zayn repeatedly admitted he isn't a fan of 1D's music and Liam has admitted being in the group could be 'toxic' and hinted he didn't get on with everyone, Louis was asked why he's never complained about the band.

He explained: 'I absolutely f***ing love the band. I'm super proud about where I've come from. At the end of the day, I'm from Doncaster, and the band gave me such a nice opportunity.

'But also, there's a big history of that, people coming out of bands and chatting s***. I just think they just look so obvious. It's such a desperate attempt to try and get cool points.

'So I don't think it's authentic. I f***ing love the boys, and I love everything we've done together. And I still miss my time with them.'

Louis added that he felt the other One Direction members 'would be lying' if they claimed they didn't enjoy their time in the band.

The singer also claimed that seeing the very different solo music each member - including Harry and Niall - have been producing shows the 'strength' of the band was that every one of them brought something different to the group.

Explaining that every member of the group have been making 'really f***ing good music', so he always enjoys it when he tunes into the radio and hears their songs.

Louis also added that he thought he and his bandmates were 'lucky' because they weren't so tightly controlled as other boy bands had been, and he thinks that was key to their appeal.

The singer shot to fame nearly 10 years ago aged 18 when appearing on the X Factor and joining boyband One Direction.

While appearing on the 2010 edition of the show, Harry was handpicked by Simon Cowell alongside Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Liam Payne and Zayn Malik to form the group.

Despite finishing 3rd in the competition the band went on to have global success winning nearly 200 awards and topping charts worldwide.

#louis tomlinson #Daily mail #300120

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sunkissedpages · 5 years

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We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Twenty-Three || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: welcome to another episode of: this is how friends with benefits act right?? this is how two people who have zero feelings for each other totally interact right?? also big thank you to @parkerstylesperalta, @summernykole, and that one anon for teaching me about exercise because I’m fucking clueless :))

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, angst, SMUT LIKE IT COMES OUT OF NOWHERE SMUT

What I listened to while writing: this noir playlist

Word Count: 3.7k

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“Stay. Please.”

Tom’s hand was warm and the new context of his touch sent a shiver down your spine. It was intentional, yet hesitant. You looked back up into his eyes and saw a combination of longing and fear staring back at you. Whether he was afraid you wouldn’t agree, or that you would, you weren’t sure.

“Stay?” you repeated and saw him give you the tiniest nod. “Like a sleepover?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head. “Only you, dork.” His eyes crinkled with his smile when you laughed. “Is that a yes?”

You nodded back at him unsurely, but it was enough for him to lead you over to the bed by the hand he was still holding. When he plopped down on the left side you gave him a look.

“That’s my side,” you said with a pout, thinking back to all the mornings you woke up next to Tom in Venice on the left side of the bed, wondering why he’d bother to change the routine now.

“I forgot you were a control freak,” he groaned, rolling over dramatically.

“I can leave,” you threatened with a scowl, trying not to let his playful words get under your skin. Too many times had he said those exact words under his breath when he thought you were out of earshot all those months ago when you couldn’t stand the sight of each other. It was hard not to let them sting now even though he was teasing.

“No, darling come here,” he pleaded with wide eyes, knowing you were one to make good on your word.

You climbed onto the bed, your rightful side of the bed with a sigh. “You drive me insane,” you muttered.

“Thank you, love, you drive me quite mad as well,” he agreed with a cheeky grin, scooting closer to you on the bed.

“It wasn’t a compliment,” you snarled as Tom laughed and toppled you so that you were lying squished in his arms.

“Ow, my fucking arm,” you complained and yanked it out from underneath him.

“Sorry,” he apologized, shifting so that the two of you could lay on the mattress more comfortably. “This is new for us.”

That was for sure. With Tom’s arms wrapped around you, you were positive he could feel your heart pounding in your chest, just as you could feel his against your back. You relaxed slightly as he began to trace mindless shapes along your body, first on your hands, then along the exposed skin of your hips where your sweatshirt had ridden up.

Goosebumps followed his fingers as they moved along the curves of your skin at a slow, gentle pace. When he felt you finally relax into him he leaned up to kiss the corner of your mouth, taking you by surprise.

“I don’t think this is how sleepovers are supposed to go,” you joked. “I’m calling my mom.”

“Just shut up and let me hold you, dammit,” he sighed in exasperation and squeezed you tighter making you laugh like you hadn’t in a decade. You ignored the way your heart ached in your chest as you did.

Tom’s alarm was a familiar, yet unwelcome sound to wake up to. You groaned and stretched your arms out above your head, noticing that the two of you had moved apart during the night. That was okay with you. It made the night before easier to swallow, made it seem like a more distant memory.

You were now on your back, only half covered by the comforter with your legs tangled in the sheets. Tom was still fast asleep on his side, completely unaware of the blaring alarm still going off on his phone. You couldn’t really blame him, your heads had barely hit the pillows before having to get up again. Still, you wouldn’t have given up last night for any amount of sleep. You smiled thinking about it now and gave him a shove to wake him up, pulling the comforter back up around you, clutching it tightly as you watched Tom roll over and open his eyes slowly.

“Morning, love,” he said sleepily with a smile when he saw you hadn’t disappeared from his side yet.

“Morning, asshole,” you returned with a smirk. His smile faltered and he quirked an eyebrow. “You gonna turn off that alarm or am I going to have to throw your phone against a wall?”

“Haz always said you were such a morning person,” he grumbled, rolling over to turn his phone off and scroll through his messages.

“What time is it?” you asked, scooting closer to him underneath the covers.

“Six-thirty,” he replied and threw off the blankets to get up. “I told Harrison I’d go with him to the gym this morning, want to come?”

That was actually the last thing you wanted to do, you’d much rather curl up right where you were and fall back to sleep, but you felt yourself nodding and heard yourself say “sure” and when you saw Tom’s face light up you knew you couldn’t take it back.

“I just need to go to my room to change.”

“We’re already running late, just wear some of my clothes,” he insisted, already rifling through his suitcase for himself, “and you can change into yours when we get back.”

“But they’ll get all sweaty.”

He chuckled lightly and threw a t-shirt and pair of sweats at you. “That’s usually what happens when you exercise, love. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have loads of gray t-shirts, but if it really bothers you that much we can find a laundromat later.”

You shrugged and pulled the sweatshirt you were already wearing as pajamas over your head. You’d stopped feeling weird about changing in front of Tom by now, he’d seen you naked too many times for you to care.

When you looked back up Tom was pulling on a similar looking t-shirt, chuckling to himself.

“What?” you asked, feeling self-conscious all of the sudden.

He shook his head. “You think I’m afraid of a little sweat? After everything we’ve done together? Darling, my tongue has been-”

“Don’t finish that sentence, Thomas,” you warned, and tossed a pillow from the bed at him while trying to pull your pants up at the same time, missing completely. You felt heat prickling at the back of your neck at the thought of the memories that he’d been implying.

“Alright, alright.” He held up his hands in surrender. “Let’s go then, Harrison’s waiting for us.”

“Harry didn’t want to come?” you asked once you were in the elevator together.

“If we try and wake him up even ten minutes before we’re supposed to be on set we’ll never hear the end of it,” Tom explained. “He usually works out at night, if he works out,” he added.

“Should’ve gone with him,” you mumbled.

“What was that?” Tom asked

“Nothing,” you shook your head. “Happy to be here.”

He smiled. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

The gym was small and surprisingly empty, except for Haz who was sitting on a bench attached to one of the machines scrolling through his phone.You noticed that the walls were lined with mirrors which you hated. You never understood the appeal of having to watch yourself work out from every single angle and it made it feel as if not only everyone else in the room was watching you exercise, but you were too. It made you want to be invisible.

“Took you long enough,” Harrison said without looking up from his phone.

“Blame y/n.”

Haz jerked his head up at your name and noticed you standing next to his best friend for the first time, wearing baggy clothes and looking completely out of place.

You smacked Tom’s shoulder. “You’re the one who didn’t wake up to your alarm, jerk.” You bit your lip when you realized you’d completely given away the fact that you’d spent the night with Tom- that was if you wearing his clothes hadn’t tipped Harrison off already.

He didn’t comment, but you could tell by his expression that he thought it was a bad idea, and he wasn’t wrong.

“You’re both late,” he said matter-of-factly, standing and slipping his phone in the pocket of his shorts. “Glad you could join us, y/n.”

“Thanks, I don’t really know what I’m getting myself into,” you said nervously.

“We’ll take it easy on you,” Tom assured you.

“And who said that’s what I wanted?” you accused.

Tom stuttered. “I-I’m sorry I just-”

“I’m just kidding, please do,” you relented with a soft smile. “But you shouldn’t assume.”

“Noted.”

“What do you guys want to start with?” Harrison asked as he cracked his knuckles.

“Why don’t we do some rotations since there are three of us?” Tom suggested.

The way the boys set up the rotations were so that one person would do a burpee/squat combo, one person would do crunches, and one person would do weights and then you all would switch.

The three of you stretched first, following Harrison’s lead as he did toe-touches and windmills. You tried not to look at yourself in the mirror as you failed to reach your toes from the sitting position and caught Tom’s eye in the reflection, sending him a wink before focusing back in on Harrison.

You started on burpees and squats and Tom taught you the proper form for both, watching on even after you got the hang of it. He insisted it was to make sure you were using safe technique, but he let his eyes wander.

“Tell me, how much does ‘safe technique’ have to do with my ass?” you asked, wondering if he’d only picked squats for this exact reason.

“At least forty-two percent,” Tom said with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m wearing baggy sweatpants,” you said shaking your head.

“Yeah, and they’re my baggy sweatpants,” he whispered hotly.

You did another rep and shook your head again. “Do you ever burn out?”

“I dunno, wanna test it?”

“If you two don’t mind, I’d really like to keep my breakfast down as I work out.”

“Sorry Harrison,” you apologized, hoping the flush of embarrassment would be hidden underneath the flush already present from working out.

“All I’m saying is you better not look at my ass when it’s my turn for that rotation, Tom,” Harrison warned making you laugh.

Tom rolled his eyes. “Come off it, mate.”

You did crunches next, which you didn’t need any help with. You were definitely slower than Haz, who had been doing them before you, but you kept up a good pace, and only slowed a little bit as the time ran out. You learned the technique for handheld weights last, which Tom helped you with before going to do crunches at his own rotation.

He was impressed at how much you could lift since you were a beginner, but you explained that you had to carry a lot of boxes and things around set and that over time it’d started to get easier.

When the timer on Harrison’s phone went off you immediately jogged over to the water cooler and chugged three of the tiny cups, wanting more but holding yourself back.

“Only three more times around!” Tom cheered enthusiastically.

“You mean we have to do it again?” you panted and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Yep, three more times!”

“I hate you.”

Harrison laughed. “Come on y/n you can do it.”

“But I don’t want to!”

You couldn’t even enjoy watching Tom do his burpees as you struggled to do crunches the second time around because of the combination of anger and misery coursing through your veins. No wonder you never worked out.

“Fuck y/n I’m going to cum,” Tom cursed as you bobbed up and down on his cock, one hand on his hip, the other holding your hair back.

You felt your eyes go wide as his stomach muscles tensed and pulled off of him with a pop. “Not in my mouth!”

“What the fuck?” Tom hissed, eyes panicked, abs clenching harshly as he fought to hold off the inevitable. He took hold of his cock in his own hand and gave you an alarmed look. “Where am I supposed to-”

“Um, here,” you yanked Harrison’s yellow sweatshirt and your t-shirt off in one go, throwing it up behind him on the bed so that you were only in your bra. “Cum on my chest.”

Tom didn’t need to be told twice and came finally in spurts all over your your chest with horrible aim, having no regard for your bra. He let a string of profanities leave his lips as he pumped himself through it. His head fell back on the pillows in relief as he came down from his high, breathing hard.

“What the fuck was that?” he asked.

“Sorry, I’m still kind of nauseous from working out earlier,” you apologized and collapsed on Tom, laying your head on his hip and breathing rather hard yourself.

Tom couldn’t help but laugh at that, carding his hands through your hair absentmindedly. “Loser.”

“Hey, give me a break, Spider-Man, I’m an amateur.”

“Are you sore yet?”

“Everything hurts,” you groaned, head bouncing as Tom laughed. “Moving stuff around on set all day didn’t help.”

“I’m sorry love, want me to help you relax a little?”

“And how are you going to do that?” you asked cheekily, sitting up a little to look into his eyes.

“I have a few ideas,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Might involve repaying the favor you just did for me?”

“I’m definitely interested, but let me clean up first.”

You pushed yourself up and off the bed and walked to the bathroom where you turned on the sink and waited for the water to warm. You sighed as you unclipped your bra, thinking about how much of a bitch those stains were going to be to get out later. You wet a washcloth and cleaned yourself off, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror.

Your hair was a mess, eyes a little red, and eyes dark with want. You smirked at yourself. Who were you? Having casual sex and actually enjoying it? You never would’ve imagined it for yourself, yet here you were about to (fingers crossed) get eaten out by your boss for the ??? time this week.

You decided you might as well take off your jeans since you were already shirtless just to make everything easier so you peeled them off your legs along with your panties leaving you completely naked. You knew Tom would appreciate it.

You made your way out of the bathroom with what you were hoping was more of a sultry walk than a sore one, but stopped when you saw Tom looking guilty, bottom lip pulled between his teeth anxiously.

“I know that look,” you sighed. “What is it?”

“I forgot, I’m meant to have a livestream on instagram about the film in three minutes.”

“That wasn’t on your schedule.”

“I know, Jake asked me to switch mine with his because he had some meetings or something and I forgot to tell you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration. You knew you probably looked ridiculous standing like that completely naked in the middle of his hotel room, but you didn’t care.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry y/n. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Whatever, just put some pants on,” you muttered gesturing to his naked lower half.

“They’ll only see my face,” he protested.

“Yeah, and I’m sure Marvel will love when you accidentally flip the camera around in the middle of the stream and show the entire world your dick.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Tom admitted and rolled over to grab a pair of sweatpants off the floor before pulling them loosely onto his hips. You made for your clothes on the bed, but Tom put out his hand to stop you. “Wait, don’t leave! It won’t be long, I swear.”

You rolled your eyes and plucked a big t-shirt from the top of Tom’s suitcase to wear in the meantime, watching as he got situated on the bed.

“Just, uh, sit there and don’t say anything.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut,” you quipped back, wondering why you’d let him convince you to stay so easily.

Tom took a deep breath and pulled his phone out, fingers trembling and it hit you how nervous he was.

“Hey, Tom?” you called over from you chair in the corner. “You’ve got this. It’ll be great.”

“Thanks,” he said and took another deep breath, his thumb hovering over the screen.

You opened up your own instagram so that you could monitor the comments and pressed the little pink icon that popped up when Tom started his live.

“Hi guys, hope you’re all having a fantastic day! I’m in New York right now, on the set of Spider-Man: Far From Home, well not really on set, I’m in my hotel room right now, but you know what I mean.” He laughed and cleared his throat before continuing. “So anyway, we’re in New York City filming the last little bit and it’s been loads of fun! Getting to know everybody on set and seeing all of you guys has been so amazing! It’s really been the best time of my life.”

He continued to talk about the movie and how thankful he was for the experience but the last little bit stuck with you. I mean they were all the words he was supposed to say, but you stopped to wonder if he really meant them.

The best time of his life? Had it been the best time of yours? Your immediate instinct told you no, reminding you of how miserable you were every morning back in London, how many shitty situations you’d gotten yourself into, how many nights you spent crying on this stupid trip. But another, quieter part of you whispered about the smaller moments spent laughing with Zendaya at a cafe in Prague, sword fighting Harrison with baguettes from craft services, and of course all the little stolen moments you had with Tom. It felt like you were living on borrowed time when you were with him, and neither of you spoke your feelings aloud, but the memories you already had with him? They were yours to keep.

You realized you hadn’t been paying attention to the comments and tuned back in. Scrolling back through some of the comments to see what you’d missed.

“So I’m here to answer some of your questions about the film, I can’t go into too much detail of course, but uh yeah just hit me with them.” Tom paused for a second as the questions rolled in, trying to pick a good one. “How’s Jacob?” He smiled. “He’s great, he’s really good. Getting to work with one of my best friends is the absolute best. I can’t say enough good things about the guy, and I’m not just being nice because I know he’s watching!” He winked at the screen and scrolled through the comments some more. “Harry stop asking questions you’re with me all the time.”

Tom had been going on for over ten minutes and your patience was beginning to thin. When he started going off on a tangent about and inside joke between him and Jake Gyllenhaal you said fuck it and sent him a text that you were getting in the shower. He got the notification on his phone, but his eyes still flicked in your direction when you got up.

You knew he’d be pissed, but your chest was still sticky as was your hair, and you figured you might as well just finish yourself off since he obviously wasn’t going to do it. The shower was quiet enough not to be heard over the microphone of Tom’s phone so the only real challenge was going to be keeping yourself quiet. You waited a few minutes under the warm water just to see if he’d wrap things up and join you, but when he didn’t you took matters into your own hands, literally.

You’d barely touched yourself when your phone buzzed on the counter. You froze, waiting for it to stop, but as soon as it did it started buzzing again. The third time it started buzzing you threw up your hands and gave in, figuring whatever it was must be important if they kept trying to call you. You shook your hand dry and reached for your phone, catching it on the last ring.

“What Harrison?” you snapped into the phone after seeing his picture pop up on your screen. You instantly regretted how harsh you sounded.

“Are you in the shower?” he asked sounding confused by the running water in the background.

You bit back a curse and turned the water off, grabbing a towel from the shelf to dry yourself off. “I was, but you called me like three times in a row so I figured whatever it must be was important enough to cut it short. Why are you calling me?”

“I sent you a link to a tweet, you need to look at it immediately. I don’t know if anyone else knows yet, but it’s kind of blowing up so if they don’t already, they will soon.”

“Hold on, I’ll check it out. Will you stay on the line?”

“Yeah sure.”

Harrison’s end of the phone was quiet as he waited for you to look at the tweet. You clicked the link in the text he sent you which opened a tweet with two pictures. The caption was just ‘?????’ which didn’t make any sense until you looked at the pictures.

The first was a zoomed in aerial picture from set that looked like it had been clipped from one of Harry’s drone videos. You spotted yourself easily amongst the other crew members even though your back was turned because you were wearing Harrison’s yellow sweatshirt with the hood up. You swiped in confusion over to the second picture and it all clicked. It was a picture from Tom’s livestream, zoomed into something in the corner and almost so grainy you couldn’t tell what it was, but it was just clear enough to be able to tell that it was Harrison’s sweatshirt balled up with your t-shirt from earlier that Tom had neglected to move out of frame.

“Well shit.”

I know I say this a lot, but I have mixed feelings about this part anyway lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

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eeemarvel · 4 years

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A rant for Hermione Granger

Alright. I know I’m a grown ass adult and the road I'm about to take you down has been travelled a thousand times over, but I have some things to say about Hermione Jean Granger and her lovely best friends. I’ll say that the passion I have for this subject was reignited when I reread the series (for the upteenth time) a few months ago. As I was reading, I began climbing a hill, and now that I’m on the top of this hill, I have decided that this is where I will die.

Hill: It made absolutely zero sense that Harry and Ron were Hermione’s best friends and she deserved far better.

I’m about to take you down a long, rambling, ranting, tea-induced journey, so buckle up.

Now, I am by no means saying that it made no sense that the trio were friends, because I’m a firm believer that people can have, relate to, and cherish all kinds of friends. But best friends??? Best friends are a bit different than “just friends” in my opinion. Best friends don’t just love and cherish you. They support your passions and never belittle them. They have many common interests with you and love spending time alone with you. They speak up for you when someone is disrespecting you/crossing a boundary, even if the person disrespecting you is a mutual friend. Harry and Ron constantly fell short on all accounts.

So obviously Harry and Ron care about Hermione. In the very first book, they risked their lives to make sure that a troll didn’t kill her in the bathrooms, which solidified their friendship. To me, the thing that kept them together through the years was pretty much plot armor. Besides that, I’d say it was their love of mysteries, figuring things out, getting to the bottom of things gone wrong at Hogwarts (more specifically, things gone wrong with Harry which is a friendship red flag, imo. If your friendship is held together by the events of one person’s life, that’s unhealthy. Yeah, he had a lot goin on and he was the boy who lived blah blah blah, but tell me about 3 times out of the whole series when Harry went out of his way to help Hermione with a problem that wasn’t related to him. We could make a flimsy case in which he does this for Ron, but the case is still flimsy.). Hermione usually fought against shenanigans but always ended up coming along for the adventure. She was just as much of a troublemaker as Ron and Harry. I don’t think she’d find too many people at Hogwarts besides Harry and Ron who were willing to illegally enter the restricted section with her to look at Tomes Moste Nasty (she did that alone, but I’m sure they’d be down to come with if she asked). So they do have a connection. I just think that it wasn’t a best friend connection.

Best friends support your passions and never belittle them. Y’all. I don’t care how silly the S.P.E.W. name was. I don’t care that house elves loved servitude. S.P.E.W. was for a good cause. Hermione’s heart was in the right place. It was definitely weird that wizards talked down on house elves and casually treated them like slaves. Hermione wanted to change that. She was clearly extremely passionate about it. And Harry and Ron never. Once. Supported her. They only joined so that they didn’t have to listen to her anymore. That’s not real support. They never even tried to have a respectful and open minded discussion about it because I do actually think that Hermione didn’t fully understand the relationship between house elves and wizards. I think the elves liked service. But cruelty should not be something that they accept from the people they serve. If Ron, who knew more about the wizarding world than his other friends, explained the relationship in a respectful way to Hermione instead of trying to make her feel like an idiot, it’s possible that she could’ve changed her organization’s goal. It was also kind of upsetting that they couldn’t have enough empathy to understand why this issue might be so important to her. I think that it’s possible that as a muggle-born, she felt sympathy for the elves who were being treated the way some wizards would want to treat muggle-born witches and wizards.They couldn’t think outside of themselves for a minute to consider why she was so passionate about this cause.

Side bar: It’s no secret that Hermione Granger is smart as a whip. Brightest witch of her age, she is. That’s why it baffled me that she took such an annoying and aggressive approach to recruiting S.P.E.W. members. From the way her efforts were written, it seemed as if she only shook a collection plate in people’s faces and shamed them for being ok with the treatment of house elves. She never explained how the money would be used. She never explained a plan of action. She didn’t explain the goals of her organization or how people could help. Nothing. That’s very un-Hermioneish if you ask me. This is the same girl who organized Dumbledore’s Army. She would’ve known exactly how to run that organization and exactly what their aims were. She would be able to explain it in a way that is appealing to people, in a way that makes people just as passionate about it as she is. Instead, she was written like an unholy hybrid of the one of the Salvation Army Santas and one of those “YOU’RE GOING TO HELL!” protestors that stand outside of universities. That’s not Granger. She was only written that way to make Ron and Harry look better, to give them an excuse for not being a good friend. And even then, it’s a piss poor excuse. You should be able to give your best friend constructive criticism. “You know, Hermione, you can catch more flies with honey. Why don’t you try…. Instead of….” Rational, fact minded Hermione would’ve welcomed this. Instead, Ron mocked her and the organization and Harry stayed quiet while he did it. They sucked for doing that. Fight me about it.

It didn’t sit right with me how much they ignored her whenever she talked about S.P.E.W. How openly exasperated they got with her. She rarely asked them for much. On the other hand, she was always checking their homework (I have my suspicions that she sometimes did it for them???? Ron made it seem that way. I could be remembering it wrong), always helping them with schemes, always coming to their rescue, and they couldn’t just. Listen to her. Mind you, her concern is that the elves are being subjected to slavery. Slavery is a pretty big deal. Even if that wasn’t exactly the case with the house elves, it wasn’t far off, and it was a cause worth being upset about, worth fighting for, especially since in the muggle world, slavery is a huge ass YIKES. They made her feel like her feelings weren’t at all justified. If my best friend made me feel like I was stupid for taking up a social justice cause and was constantly upset whenever I brought it up in conversation, she wouldn’t be my best friend anymore. Because that would tell me I couldn’t trust her with things that are close to my heart. It would tell me that there’s a possibility that she would belittle me for something I feel passionate about which is a bad, bad feeling. She’d most likely still be my friend… but not my best friend.

Best friends share common interests. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all like… magic???? Yep. That checks out. But Ron and Harry’s thing was quidditch. They related on another level too. They had the same sense of humor, they complained about the same things, and just got along pretty easily. They more or less had the same attitude towards school and reacted to things almost the same way. They don’t have much in common with Hermione though. They rarely joke about things together as a group without one person feeling weird/left out/exasperated. That aside, Hermione was passionate about knowledge. She loved school. She loved books. She loved intricate puzzles like arithmancy and runes. Those are very specific interests that I don’t doubt she would want to talk about. She was positively bursting at the seams in every class to answer a question because she loved the topic so much. And because, let’s face it, our girl’s competitive. She loved being smart. She loved being the smartest. That aside, her desire to be the smartest wasn’t the only reason why she always raised her hand in class. If that was the case, she could take literally any other class at Hogwarts, but she chose arithmancy and runes specifically. She likes the material. She could never talk about school with Harry and Ron without them complaining about how difficult and tedious their homework was. Again, that’s not their fault, because school isn’t fun for everyone. But school was a huge part of Hermione’s heart and she was written as a girl who’s best friends were two boys who didn’t really like working all that much. These are the people she hung out with the most yet the thing she loved the most was information and puzzles and knowledge and figuring things out and she COULD NEVER GEEK OUT ABOUT IT WITH THEM!

There’s a whoooooooooooole house dedicated to clever, precocious minds, but J.K. Rowling wants me to believe that Hermione didn’t have a single close Ravenclaw friend. Not a single Ravenclaw classmate that shared her passions, someone she could run to the lawn to talk in depth about their morning lecture with, to have debates with, to compare notes with, to joke about the way the textbook was written. Not a single one????? For someone as bright and perceptive as her, that must’ve been suffocating. Bright people like to talk to other bright people. They like competing with them. They like hearing their ideas. Even though Hermione was the brightest witch of her age, she wasn’t the only bright witch at Hogwarts. I’m sure there were plenty of students who would love to hang out with her and vise versa, but instead she’s written to always be around Harry and Ron who rarely ever talk about their classes unless it was to complain about them. Even Harry, who’s favorite subject was DADA, rarely geeked out about the subject the way she obviously does about so many other things. It’s the same way the other way around. Imagine if Harry was just as bright as Hermione and they always had in depth discussions about their classes and related to each other on a pretty deep level because of that shared passion. And then there was Ron. Ron who wasn’t that good at school and didn’t really care. Ron who loved quidditch and food but rarely got to talk about it with those two. Don’t you think he’d find someone to talk to about quidditch with???

When Ron was mad at Harry, he started hanging out with Dean and Seamus. When Harry was feeling weird and alone after Voldemort came back, he had Luna Lovegood. When Hermione was feeling alienated by her two best friends she…….. Went to the library???? And even when it seemed like she was making a new friend, Krum, the book made that new relationship about Ron and Ron’s feelings. Ron attacked her for getting close to Krum, saying that she was betraying Harry, and he only did that because he was feeling insecure. How. Is. That. Fair. People? I’m sure she liked Krum well enough to continue to be friends with him, and even if she didn’t, she didn’t deserve to be shamed for simply talking to him. Christ. The boy wrote long, heart-felt letters to her, and even if he wasn’t as bright as her, I’m sure the academic in her loved the gesture of putting feelings to paper, of choosing his thoughts carefully to craft them into a message that was special for her. Even if their relationship didn’t turn into something romantic, they STILL COULD’VE BEEN GOOD GOOD FRIENDS. It’s possible Krum had a passion for literature, something I’m sure Hermione could appreciate. I may be reaching, but that’s still one thing they have in common that she doesn’t have with Harry and Ron. It’s also important to note that Krum, though a bit aloof and moody around other people, opened up to people he became close with, like Hermione. He talked very enthusiastically with Hermione, and Hermione even described him as being kind. Thing is, what is it that Krum would talk about enthusiastically with Hermione? Quidditch? Most certainly not. Hermione couldn’t care less about the sport. Harry’s problems? I doubt Hermione is the type of friend to talk about her friend’s sensitive information to other people. So it must be something that Hermione likes or is equally enthusiastic about. Liiiiiike books and learning!! She had something in common with Krum and Ron made her feel bad about that. I think she turned down Krum’s invitation to visit him during the summer partly because she didn’t feel the same way about him and didn’t want to lead him on, and partly because her “best” friends didn’t really support her. When Harry kissed Cho and was confused about Cho crying during the kiss, who did he tell? Ron and Hermione. Hermione even gave him sound insight into what Cho was feeling so Harry would feel less lost. Hermione would never be able to do that with Krum. If she felt confused about something Krum did, who would she be able to tell about that with Ron being King DickaZoid about her having a relationship and Harry being a weird mute? She could scarcely tell them about her relationship with Krum because those boys were so damn WEIRD about it. Ron immediately got pissy when he suspected that Krum and Hermione were dating, and that sucks. She can’t talk to her best friend about her first real relationship. And because Ron was pissy, Harry shut down and was suddenly unable to talk to Hermione because he felt he would be betraying Ron. It’s not Hermione’s fault that Ron never confessed his feelings to her. ALSO, how tf is she supposed to know that he has a crush on her when his default is to be confused by her very existence? He was constantly baffled by the priorities she had. Constantly baffled by her love for school. Constantly baffled by the expectations she had for Harry and Ron, and that was at his best. Because when he wasn’t just downright confused by the things she did, he was belittling her. That’s why whenever he paid her a genuine compliment, usually for things she did for his sake, it was a huge deal. We were supposed to think that they had a thing going on just because Ron complimented her but. No. You should just compliment your friends when they do good things. Hype your friends up. Respect them on the regular. Instead, the norm was that it was rare for Hermione to openly explore a part of her life without specifically Ron taking issue with it and Harry feebly cosigning Ron’s bullshit. I digress, but the point was that Krum shared more common interests with Hermione than Harry and Ron did and Krum was just a minor character.

This is fine for normal friends. Normal friends don’t usually have a lot of common interests. But it’s rare for best friends. If Harry and Ron were just good friends that Hermione hung out with from time to time, things would be different. It would make sense that they didn’t like the same things. It would make sense if they only hung out because they just kind of got along and shared a traumatic experience that one time in their first year. It would make sense if she often got lunch with her “troll-in-the-dungeon” buddies in Hogsmeade to catch up and joke about their professors. It would make sense if after that lunch, Hermione went back to her best friend, probably some really smart Ravenclaw chick, and told her about her lunch with her troll buddies before diving into a long drawn out rant about a contradictory paragraph in her Ancient Runes textbook. Ravenclaw chick would be like “MERLIN’S BEARD, I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE!” and she’d rant too, and then they’d laugh, and talk about some other stuff, like their families or maybe Ravenclaw chick’s equivalent of “troll-in-the-dungeon” buddies. That would be Hermione’s best friend. She wouldn’t feel the need to keep her relationship with Krum a secret from this Ravenclaw chick. She’d be able to talk openly about her insecurities or her troubles to her best friend. For example, in the seventh book, Hermione had a pretty nasty bout of jealousy when Harry started doing better than her in potions. She really wanted Harry to come clean and get rid of the Prince’s textbook. I imagined that she was struggling with jealousy and guilt for feeling jealous and lashing out at her friend like that. She would want to talk to someone about it. Just imagine her trying to open up to Ron about that. “You’ve been a right foul, git, I’ll tell you that.” That’s about the picture of it, I’d say. A true best friend would hear her out, and offer sound, non judgemental advice so that Hermione could not only improve herself but also feel good about coming to that friend about negative feelings in the future. That friend could’ve been hypothetical super smart Ravenclaw chick who totally thought S.P.E.W. was a great idea.

And, I wouldn't be mad if over the course of the series, Hermione grew closer to Ron and Harry because she was concerned about them and wanted to help. But they still wouldn’t be her best friends. They would be friends that she cared about. And she would be helping them because they were fighting for a worthwhile cause, the defeat of Voldemort. It’s possible that this hypothetical Ravenclaw chick wouldn’t join them in the 7th book on their extended camping trip, but that’s to be expected. Hermione is a Gryffindor after all, and not many people would be willing to make the sacrifice that she made to be with Harry and Ron (she wiped her parents’ memories and set them up in Australia for Merlin’s sake. That’s bold. And scary.)

Best friends love spending time with you. I think Ron and Harry enjoyed Hermione’s company. The reason why I think that is because they are written to enjoy her company. But it is never actually explained why they enjoy her company. It’s just plot armor that’s backing this up. I think they were impressed by her intellect and drive, but those traits aren’t things that they all had in common. If you ask me, if these 3 existed outside of the context of the books, I’d say that the boys tolerated Hermione’s company because it’s not like they all shared common interests, the same humor, etc. She was also pretty useful to them for school. So yikes. Nonetheless, within the context of the books, they enjoyed Hermione. But Hermione was never really enough for them alone. You never really got scenes where Ron and Hermione met up with Harry after just hanging out and they were smiling and laughing together. The same is true with Harry and Hermione. When Harry and Ron were fighting and not talking to each other, Harry was always in a visibly bad mood, and lamented the fact that he had to hang out in the library with Hermione. He was always more emotionally affected by Ron’s absence in his life than he was when Hermione was absent in his life the year before when Hermione reported his new broomstick to Professor McGonagall (again, a friend trying to keep her friend alive, but whatever. Harry and Ron were constantly gas lighting Hermione which makes me feel like Hermione needed to have someone in her life to vent to about it. Someone who would understand her intentions or give her some kind of advice.) Harry and Hermione, who I feel like were more similar than Hermione and Ron, rarely spent time together and thoroughly enjoyed it, content with each other’s company and not yearning for someone else to be there. That’s not what it feels like to hang out with a best friend.

Later on in the series, we get the sense that Hermione and Ginny started to hang out, but it was implied that they only got close because Ginny had a crush on Harry and Hermione was giving her advice. I think this is kind of sad because Ginny is clearly bright. She’s fierce too. She’s not as book wormy as Hermione, and she’s kind of pranky like the twins, but she could’ve been best friend material for Hermione. But they were only just kind of friends because they spent summers together, they’re both girls, and Ginny has a crush on Hermione’s best friend. Hermione needs a healthy friendship that doesn’t revolve around the boys or her gender.

A best friend speaks up for you if someone is mistreating you, even if that someone is a mutual friend. Now, we all remember how Ron immediately whipped out his wand to curse Malfoy into next week for calling Hermione a mudblood. That plan backfired, but I’m glad he did it, and I’m glad he stopped puking up slugs. But, friends shouldn’t just defend you when you’re subjected to extreme offenses like slurs. Friends should defend you when you’re being mistreated or belittled. Ron often mistreated Hermione by mocking her, and Harry never once corrected Ron. He never once sat Ron down and was like “Hey, mate… I think you should lay off Hermione. You’re being kind of mean…” From the fourth book onwards, it was like Harry took a sacred vow of silence whenever Ron and Hermione argued, whenever Ron took it too far. And you know what? I kind of get it.

These are Harry’s first real friends and the only relationships he had in his life before Hogwarts were toxic and abusive. Even Ms. Figg made sure that he didn’t enjoy his visits with her because she thought that the Dursleys wouldn’t allow him to go back to her if they thought he enjoyed it. An ass excuse, if you ask me, but again. Whatever. Harry likely has zero idea how to handle conflict healthily. He definitely has 0 idea how to be a good friend. What bothered me is that he never tried to defend Hermione. Even if he blustered through it or felt awkward, he could’ve made it known that he didn’t approve of Ron’s treatment of Hermione. But he didn’t. And even though trauma likely made it difficult for Harry to resolve conflict, he handled it pretty gracefully in other situations. Snape, Malfoy, Dumbledore, Umbridge, literally anyone he had an issue with, he found a way to make his feelings known (See “There’s no need to call me sir, Professor,” and “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe Lord Voldemort,” for more details). But when it came to speaking up on Hermione’s behalf? Crickets. If someone made fun of my best friend’s ideas, was constantly gaslighting them, or making them feel weird for their interests, I don’t care who they are, I would tell them to pump the brakes and apologize.

I actually think the trio could’ve treated each other much better, but Hermione constantly got the short end of the friendship stick. I think this is because their “best” friend relationship was forced and was therefore constantly under strain. They had this idea that they were “best” friends so obviously, they had to be interested in the same things (the boys’ sheer disbelief and outrage at Hermione’s indifference to quidditch and Hermione occasionally outwardly expressing interest in a school thing only to be met with blank, unenthusiastic stares). But they just weren’t best friends. I think they’re arguments are a result of them trying to force each other back into an ideal, a picture of what they thought their friendship to be, when they probably should’ve just accepted the fact that they were way too different to trust each other with things that went beyond the superficial stuff. I think you can be the polar opposite of your best friend, but you still have to love spending time with them, respect them, defend them when they’re being mistreated, and support their interests. Harry and Ron didn’t really do that.

They knew Hermione liked to stay in the library. They could’ve gone to find her to make sure she remembered to eat for the day because they know how easily she gets lost in books. I’m sure Hermione had a favorite book. Even if the boys couldn’t stomach reading the whole thing, they could’ve humored her and let her rant about it. They could’ve opened it to a random page, saw a person’s name, and say “This bloke. This bloke here. I don’t like him. Thoughts?” Even if they’re just being playful, they’re showing an interest in things she lovessssssss. They knew that Pansy Parkinson was constantly bullying her. Why didn’t we get scenes where they bashed Pansy and hyped Hermione up in turn? Hermione reassured Harry in the fourth year, telling him he was attractive and it was a no-brainer that girls fancied him. She also reassured Harry that it was likely his kissing skills were fine. She broke her own morals so that Ron could get on the quidditch team. What did Harry and Ron do to make sure that Hermione felt loved and validated????? I think that teenage boys often show affection and appreciation differently from teenage girls, but they still show affection and appreciation. They are still more than capable of it. Harry and Ron just didn’t do it unless Hermione had done something for them first.

Hermione deserved better. She deserved a real best friend. Harry and Ron were best friends. They were the peanut to the other’s jelly, the Merlin to their beard, the dung to their bomb. I still think that their friendship could’ve been improved, but hey. They were still undeniably best friends. Those 2 didn’t have that same connection with Hermione. I just think that considering everything Hermione has been through in the course of the series, she deserves someone that she could relate to without fear of being attacked or belittled.

Now please. Lay me to rest on this hill. I would like my tombstone to read, “Honestly, don’t you two read?”

#hermione granger #hermione #harry potter #harry #ron weasley #ron #hp #rant #not hero reform #not hr #i've been sitting on this rant for ages #idk why i'm like this

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hforhonesty · 5 years

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Book Review #1 | Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

“Half the time, Simon can’t even make his wand work, and the other half, he sets something on fire. His mentor’s avoiding him, his girlfriend broke up with him, and there’s a magic-eating monster running around wearing Simon’s face. Baz would be having a field day with all this, if he were here—it’s their last year at the Watford School of Magicks, and Simon’s infuriating nemesis didn’t even bother to show up.” [official synopsis of the book]

Full title: “Carry On: The rise and Fall of Simon Snow.”

Or, as I often refer to it, the death of me.

I can already hear my friend A. complaining that I read this book at least twice a year – which is odd, I get it, but I also can't help it. She says that I'm obsessed with it...

... She’s right. But there's a reason if the motto of my brand new blog is "H for Honesty", so I promise that I won't let my obsession take over the review. Scout's honor!

Anyway, we have to straighten some things out before we settle down to work, since I know that there are people out there who are not appealed by this book because of its similiarities with the Harry Potter Saga.

The Chosen One and the prophecy themes, the analogies between characters such as Penelope Bunch and Hermione Granger, the Drarry vibes, the English school of magic...

So if you want to complain about these similiarities, then stop reading, watching tv shows and movies or even breathing because, guess what?, it's literally impossible not to be influenced by others, especially if you are a writer.

I think that inspiration is good; it means that you've reached the heart of your readers and left a permanent mark on it. As a wanna-be writer I can only aspire to do such a great thing as inspiring someone to the point that they want to share their own stories.

Speaking of Rainbow Rowell being inspired by Jk Rowling, well, it doesn't mean that she plagiarised her work – far from it. Rainbow's World of Mages is something fresh, modern, unexplored. It has cliches just like any other great story, but instead of running in circles it goes beyond them.

This is why the first character I want to introduce is Agatha Wellbelove, who’s supposed to play the role of the protagonist’s love interest. I’m gonna be honest with you guys – I didin’t like her at first, like not at all.

It’s hard to explain without spoiling the book but I’ll try my best, alright?

Agatha is the only daughter of one of the richest and most important families of the world of mages. Her father is a doctor and her mother is very invested in the social part of their community, hence the charity works such as having poor, orphan Simon stay at their house during Christmas break.

Beautiful, popular, kind. She had to be all these things for her whole life because everything had already been set up for her. Even her relationship with Simon was inevitable. I know it’s silly but think of Shrek: like Fiona, she had to play the role of the damsel in distress locked in the highest tower of the castle, awaiting for her knight in his shiny armour... only to be his reward at the end of the story, when the magical war is over... if he manages to survive.

But Agatha is more than that.

“Lucy disappeared?” I say.

“Worse,” Mum says. “She ran away. From magic. Can you imagine?”

“Yes,” I say, then, “no.”

She wants to spend time with her normal friends, go to a normal school, be a normal person without the burden of magic on her shoulders. But she can’t, of course, because everyone would think that she’s insane, so she’s stuck in a world where she doesn’t belong.

Magic is a religion.

But there’s no such thing as not believing – or only going through the motions on Easter and Christmas. Your whole life has to revolve around magic all the time. If you’re born with magic, you’re stuck with it, and you’re stuck with other magicians, and you’re stuck with wars that never end because people don’t even know when they started.

I honestly didn’t understand her character at first, because c’mon, if someone came to me and told me that I could attend Hogwarts/Watford and have magical powers if I wanted, I wouldn’t even hesitate to answer hell, yeah. But this is another matter, ofc.

The point is that Rainbow Rowell’s characters are what I’d like (and dare) to define «the apotheosis of relatability». They are not just fictional characters. When they think, when they talk, when they act... they seem extremely human in my head, they seem to bloody exist, as if they weren’t made of paper...

I think that this effect is mostly due the fact that the book was written in first person singular. Yeah, I know that most people avoid this type of point of view like the plague, but believe me when I say that Carry on is 100% worth it.

Every chapter mirrors the thoughts of the main characters, from Simon’s to the Mage’s, and is shaped by them. For instance:

When Simon is talking, his words are articulated in short and/or mostly broken sentences.

He doesn’t reply – he must still be working up to a bluster.

Snow blusters like no one else. But! I mean! Um! It’s just! It’s no wonder he can never spit out a spell.

When he’s thinking, the pages are filled with long and elaborated phrases, which can be seen especially in the first chapters of the book;

Baz, on the other hand, has the opposite problem. He comes up with the most complex sentences when he’s speaking, while his thoughts are often interrupted by the use of round brakets, which is undoubtedly of my favourite features of his chapters.

So even though he seems this cool and charming and extremely confident and super duper talented and handsome magician, this is just his façade. In reality, he’s the type of guy who would rather be alone during meals because he’s too self-conscious and doesn’t want his family to see the fangs that come through when he’s eating.

It’s no secret that Baz is very secretive when it comes to his feelings or anything that concerns his private sphere, as he always weighs his words before he speaks up. But when the crosstalk is between him and Simon, there’s literally nothing in the world that Baz loves more than teasing him.

“I know what you are,” I snarled.

His eyes locked onto mine. “Your roommate?”

I shook my head and squeezed the hilt of my sword.

Baz stepped into my reach. “Tell me,” he spat.

I couldn’t.

“Tell me, Snow.” He stepped even closer. “What am I?”

I growled again and raised the blade an inch. “Vampire! I shouted. He must have felt the force of my breath on his face.

He started giggling. “Really? You think I’m a vampire? Well, Aleister Crowley, what are you going to do about that?”

I love the dynamics between Baz and Simon because their relationship is so genuine and thriving, absolutely compelling. You can see the deep impact that they have on each other from page one. Yes, they are roommates (oh my god, they are roommates), but they are enemies too, so they don’t really know how to deal with each other beyond their rivalry, especially when they have to team up against a common enemy.

These dynamics are way funnier when you consider that they concern a third character too. Yes, this is the moment I introduce you to the person that was recently hospitalized due to severe back pains caused by the burden of carrying Simon Snow’s bullshit on her shoulders from day one: Penelope Bunce.

She told me later that her parents had told her to steer clear of me at school. “My mum said that nobody really knew where you came from. And that you might be dangerous.”

“Why didn’t you listen to her?” I asked.

“Because nobody knew where you came from, Simon! And you might be dangerous!”

“You have the worst survival instincts.”

“Also, I felt sorry for you,” she said. “You were holding your hand backwards.”

As you can see, I love Penny. She’s clever, she’s talented, she’s this amazing young woman who is not afraid to walk with you toward eternal damnation or help you hide a corpse or do both at the same time. Because she’s all that – and more than that. She’s everything.

Penny is the kind of person who, right after you say that “curiosity killed the cat”, would rejoin that “satisfaction brought it back”. She is exactly the character that I needed as a role model during both my childhood and my adolescence: stubborn, curious, terribly ambitious... For some time I had been convinced that these were negative traits, but it’s mostly thanks to Penny that I’ve started to realise that they are good qualities instead.

I see a lot of myself in Penelope, and I could never thank Rainbow Rowell enough for creating her characters.

I could never thank Rainbow enough for writing about this amazing world and sharing it with us. And I will never stop thanking her for deciding to give us a sequel, Wayward son.

In the meanwhile, thank you. Yes, you: the person reading this review. I hope you enjoyed it! If so, follow me for new pieces :)

With love,

M.C.

P.S. I apologise for the inappropriate use of the editor but it appears that tumblr hates me.

P.P.S. My friend A. says hi – and wants you to know that the only reason she can stand the Mage is because his name is David... you know, like David Dobrik. I can’t even.

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alindakb · 4 years

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Letters to my Parents - Saturday 30 April 1994 - by Alinda

Saturday 30 April 1994

Dear mom and dad,

The Easter holiday didn’t feel like a holiday at all. We had so much homework we spend most of our time in the library studying. And when we weren’t studying, Draco and I had Quidditch practise. Hermione seemed to live in the library. She was always already there when Draco and I would finally get out of bed. And she never left before us. I think she was close to tears most of the time. I tried talking to her about her workload, but she just snapped at me and told me to leave her alone.

Draco took over all the responsibility for Buckbeak’s appeal. He’s always faster with his homework than me, and once he was done he would pore over enormously thick volumes with names like ‘the handbook of Hippogriff psychology’ and ‘Fowl or Foul? A study of Hippogriff Brutality’. And he did all this next to helping me with my homework. I think I’m really dating the smartest boy in this school.

Quidditch practise was every day during the holidays. Marcus wanted us to be ready for the match on the 23rd. We’d have endless discussions about tactics and Marcus kept drilling into me that I was only allowed to catch the snitch if we were more than 50 points ahead of Gryffindor. They had a lead of 200 points, so we needed more than that to win the cup this year. Draco would hide his laughter against my shoulders every time Marcus brought it up again.

The final was a big deal this year. Slytherin had lost the cup against Gryffindor in my first year and last year the cup had been cancelled. And with me and Draco on the team, the entire house was convinced we could win. Tensions in the school were at a breaking point. Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean stopped interacting with us because it ended up in heated words about which team was better every time. And other students also had scuffles in the corridors. A fourth-year Gryffindor and a sixth year Slytherin even ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

It was worst between Marcus and Wood, the captain of the Gryffindor team. They throw hexes at each other every time they saw each other. At one moment Wood treated to hurt me or Draco and ever since then Marcus made sure there were always people protection us. It made it hard to show up to classes on time.

I was more worried about my Firebolt. When I wasn’t flying on it I locked it into my trunk to make sure no Gryffindor would be able to sabotage it. Draco was worried that Nott or Crabbe might do something with it, but they wanted our house to win just as much as everyone else, so I believed they would not do anything to jeopardise our chances.

Hermione complained the day before the match that she didn’t know who she should support. She is a Gryffindor and all, but her two best friends are in Slytherin and on their team. She kept going back and forth with arguments why she wanted to support Gryffindor or Slytherin. It all seemed so unfair to her that she had to choose a side.

When we got back to the Slytherin common room that evening everyone was nervous. Marcus kept walking up and down the room muttering to himself. Derrick and Bole were polishing their beater bats and Adrian and Miles kept going over the tactics we all agreed on for the match. I just sat down next to Draco on a sofa. I didn’t want to talk because every time I opened my mouth I felt like making a run for the toilets.

Draco took me to bed that night. He kissed me and told me everything would be alright. He kept petting my hair until I fell asleep. Not that I had a good night of sleep. No, first I had a nightmare in which I had overslept and that they had to use Crabbe instead. And then I dreamed that the entire Gryffindor team showed up on flying lions that could spit fire. I tried to get away from them but I had seemed to have forgotten my Firebolt and I fell to the ground at rapid speed.

And that is when Draco woke me up. It took me some time to realise it was still the middle of the night. Draco handed me some water and then I curled back against his chest and let his sweet words dose me off to sleep.

The next day I spent a lot of time on braiding Draco’s hair. I was so nervous that the hair kept slipping through my shaking fingers. When it was finally done we went down to the Great Hall as a team. The Slytherin table applauded us on our entrance. It was nice to see how the entire house was supporting us, especially because the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had cheered for the Gryffindor team when they walked in. Only Luna had touched up her outfit with the Slytherin colours. She smiled at us when we left the Great Hall.

None of us spoke when we changed into our robes. I was glad when Draco sat down next to me on one of the benches and grabbed my hand. He looked paler than usual. And when Marcus told us it was time, Draco gave me a soft kiss before we left the locker rooms.

And before I knew it the game had started. All my nerves vanished as soon as I was up in the air. I glanced around and saw that McLaggen was on my tail, so I sped off in search of the Snitch. I listened to the commentary of Jordan who was a typical Gryffindor and made it sound like every goal Draco made was a lucky mistake. He couldn’t have it that our star player was better than all three Gryffindor girls. Spinnet, Johnson and Bell had trouble taking the Quaffle from Draco. And even Fred and George their well-aimed Bludgers didn’t slow down Draco.

I think it was a good thing that Wood was a keeper because he looked like he wanted to hurt one of our team. Points went back and forth for some time, but Slytherin stayed in the lead. If was just never enough to win the cup. So even though I spotted the snitch a couple of times, I didn’t chase it. Every time I spotted it I faked a look of concentration and pulled my Firebolt around toward the other side of the field. McLaggen kept following me, not spotting the snitch but being stupid enough to think I would lead him to it. Like he could outfly me if I would spot it first.

And then the moment came that we were sixty points ahead. I soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with McLaggen speeding behind me. And then I saw it. The snitch was sparkling twenty feet above me. I put on a huge burst of speed, I stretched out my hand, and then suddenly, the Firebolt slowed down. I looked around and saw that McLaggen grabbed onto the Firebolt’s tail and was pulling it back. Madam Hooch saw and gave a penalty to Slytherin, which Adrian scored easily, making our lead even greater. Only the snitch had disappeared and McLaggen was still hovering beside me. I was sure he was going to try to stop me again if I saw the snitch now.

The game went on and the Gryffindor’s scored another twenty points. We needed ten more points for me to go after the snitch again. I watched as Draco and Marcus passed the Quaffle between them, trying to pass the Gryffindors, but they all blocked their way. So I raced down and made them all scatter so that Flint could score. We were again sixty points in the lead. I smiled until I saw McLaggen dive with a triumph on his face. A few feet above the grass was a tiny, golden glimmer and McLaggen was closing in on it. I urged my Firebolt downward but McLaggen was miles ahead. I flatten myself to go even faster. Slowly I got closer to McLaggen. I think a Bludger almost hit me, but I was only looking at the snitch. I passed McLaggen, reached out my arms and grabbed hold of the snitch. I pulled out of my dive and held up the golden ball tight in my fist.

The Slytherin side of the stadium exploded. Marcus sped towards me and seized me around the neck, sobbing unrestrainedly into my shoulder. And then I got hugged by Adrian, Miles, Draco and even Derrick and Bole. We were all shouting that we’d won the cup. We moved as one back to the ground and were greeted by our housemates. They lifted us onto their shoulders and walked us to the stands, where headmaster Dumbledore stood waiting with the enormous Quidditch Cup. Marcus took the cup and kissed it before he handed it to me. I lifted it into the air while Draco wrapped his arms around my waist. We both couldn’t stop smiling. I handed the cup back to Marcus and Draco spun me around in his arms. His lips were on mine in seconds. We devoured each other until Professor Snape told us that we were ruining his good day.

That evening we had a massive party in the dungeon. There were Butterbeers and so many snacks. We celebrated until I couldn’t stand on my legs anymore. Draco carried me to our dormitory and Blaise shouted at us to remember to use silencing charms. We both laughed and once in bed, Draco took his time undressing me. He kissed me everywhere and I came inside his mouth. I thought getting jerked off by him was amazing, well I can tell you, having him suck me off is even better.

We both stayed in bed the entire Sunday, just enjoying the afterglow of winning the cup. Blaise and Gregory also couldn’t stop talking about it. We had a really fun afternoon. And then Monday started and we had to concentrate on our schoolwork again. Draco has me studying every night because exams are only two weeks away. So I probably won’t be writing to you until they’re done.

Love you both.

Harry James Potter.

#letters to my parents #drarry #Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy #quidditch #harry in slytherin #quidditch final #hermione granger #AlindasStories

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hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger · 5 years

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“After the disappointment of the Andrew Garfield-led Amazing Spider-Man movies, everyone’s favorite wallcrawler has been having a renaissance. Entering the Marvel cinematic universe in 2016's Captain America: Civil War, the webslinger fully redeemed himself with well-crafted live-action film in Spider-Man: Homecoming.”

Yes...okay...that was definitely what Homecoming was....

“and a wildly successful spin-off film Venom, ”

I mean financially successful sure...

“In the midst of all his success, Spider-Man has quietly become one of the most inclusive and socially conscious superheroes of today.”

*raises eyebrow*

Okay...go on...

“Last week, it was announced that Spider-Man: Far From Home would feature two out transgender actors playing trans characters, the first big-budget superhero film to do so. Spider-Man: Homecoming also featured a queer character, as well as numerous people of color.”

Wait who was the queer character in Homecoming?

“It’s also worth mentioning that Spiderverse included a Jewish version of Peter Parker, who is typically portrayed as either secular or Christian.”

....ehhhhhhhhh....yes and no.

In media adaptations barring maybe one (the 1994 show cos I do not remember where he got married) Spider-Man is portrayed as...I guess secular but really it’s more that they just don’t say anything.

It’s not that the character is not a believer in a faith per se, especially if you go by older adaptations during times when hardly anyone was secular. It’s just that they, understandably, aren’t saying anything.

In the comics Peter is some kind of Christian but probably a Protestant (unless you go by Amazing Grace where he is an atheist but that’s hot trash we don’t talk about) but we don’t really talk about it that specifically.

We just know that he and his family celebrate Christmas and very, very occasionally Aunt May references going to church and that she, Peter and MJ believe in a monothetistic deity they refer to as ‘God’.

And really apart from the Church thing there is no clue to Peter’s religion and Marvel probably (wisely) would rather keep it that way. He even got married in a civil ceremony!

However in the SUBTEXT...he’s Jewish. And it’s basically an open secret that he is and always has been Jewish.

“The Spider-Man video game also featured a wonderful easter egg for queer fans by having a giant rainbow flag, as well as several smaller ones, scattered around the game’s fictionalized New York City map. ”

I mean that’s wonderful but I wouldn’t call that an Easter Egg so much as...it’s just what you’d find in modern NYC.

“Even the Venom film got in on the fun, with fans shipping Tom Hardy’s Eddie Brock and the titular male alien-symbiote after the two kissed in the film. Sony even encouraged the pairing, releasing a romantic comedy-esque trailer for the film to promote the home release. While some complained of queer-baiting, most felt that it was all in good fun and included queer people in on the joke, instead of making us the target.”

Again, good for them but I don’t think that was the movie actively trying to be positive towards queer people.

Brock and Venom kissed when Venom was bonded to Brock’s ex-fiance and had a pronounced female form, being an adaptation of a character literally called She-Venom.

And it was based upon a script written in the 1990s so really it was more the movie did it and then people took it as a thing that was shipping Venom and Brock (even though Venom is sexless). Brock and the symbiote have been shipped numerous times in the comics but the subtext has always been that the symbiote, if any sex, is female. In the Spec cartoon it is referred to as Symbi (a pun on Cyndi) and in the Spider-Girl comics it is marked out as female (granted this happens after it’s bonded to a woman).

And again, headcanon away but like...that probably wasn’t intentional at all Sony were just being goofy or unintionally made something people took a certain way.

“Indeed, even in the comics, Spider-Man has always been a fairly inclusive hero. Miles Morales was introduced in the early-2000s, taking over the mantel from Peter Parker for several years. ”

Okay, this is so weird for me to be correcting such a praising point but lets really look at this.

First of all Miles didn’t take over Peter’s role for several years he did it permanently.

Second of all Miles is from 2011 so that’s not the early 2000s, that’s the early 2010s, but okay maybe that was a typo.

Third of all, is it really all that logical to say this franchise that began in 1962 has always been fairly inclusive and then cite a character from 2011 as proof of this? Wouldn’t examples from during the FIRST quarter century have been more apt?

Fourth of all...eh. Has Spider-Man been fairly inclusive from the start? Yes, no, its complicated.

Look there were exactly 0 LGBTQ+ characters in Spider-Man until maybe the 1990s and even then I couldn’t off my head tell you who they were. Felicia Hardy is bisexual but we didn’t find out until the 2000s and it was most prominent in an AU. Really the most significant LGBTQ+ character who’s had the fact that they are queer be more than a one off reference was Max Modell and he debuted 2011 and IIRC wasn’t established as queer until 2012. In defence of Spider-Man the Comics Code literally FORBID any character be anything other than straight until the 1990s and even then it was relatively rare, even in X-Men which you’d think it wouldn’t be.

If we’re talking POC again this one is a bit complicated Glori Grant, Joe Robertson, Randy Robertson are frequently appearing POC characters but not in every run and they aren’t usually as prominent as like Jameson, Aunt May, Harry Osborn, MJ, etc. Characters of other ethnicities are even less frequent and I don’t even know what we should make of Puma/Thomas Fireheart. I mean A for effort, they wanted a Native American character who wasn’t really a villain and wasn’t exactly a sterotype so there is that I guess.

Again though...most other Marvel franchises decade by decade weren’t much better with this and we should give credit where credit is due to the same guy who created Black Panther writing a nuanced scene where 2 black people in the 60s separated by age discuss different approaches to civil rights with neither being proven right or wrong.

When it comes to disabled people, outside of evil insane villains, forget it, there is nothing before Flash Thompson in 2008 unless you count Aunt May’s chronically poor health.

“Spider-Gwen quickly became one of the highest-selling female superhero comics. Spider-Woman was a prominently featured bisexual character, and the female Asian-American hero Silk also had LGBT supporting characters, Rafferty and Lola, who were in a healthy relationship. Additionally, many view vampire villain Morbius, who is getting a spin-off film starring Jared Leto next year, as a metaphor for those suffering during the HIV crisis of the '80s. ”

Again...Spider-Gwen and Silk are 2010s characters so that’s not ‘always fairly inclusive’.

I don’t even know if Jessica Drew is bisexual, I’ve never heard that but I don’t think she is.

Morbius as a metaphor for HIV...MIGHT be true if we are specifically talking about his 1990s solo-book which I’ve never read. But the character as originally created 100% was never about that because he was created in the 1970s before HIV was known about.

“Unlike his Marvel counterparts Thor, Iron Man and Captain America, Spider-Man’s world has accurately reflected real world diversity for years.”

....Not really.

I’m not even saying Spidey maybe haven’t been comparatively better at it than those guys but he’s deffo not been accurate.

Plus to be fair to the other guys, Captain America and Iron Man have had at least one major black supporting cast member and in Cap’s case he was fairly candid about social strife and issues.

And with Thor it’s not that fair to throw shade at him for not reflecting the real world given that 90% of this characters and stories are literally pulled from fantasy and myth. I don’t even know if there are any queer figures in Norse myth let alone poc.

“While it’s a seemingly simple idea that any of us can be a superhero, it’s sadly still a radical concept in a endlessly growing film genre that has predominetly centers straight cisgender white men. ”

Well that’s mostly because the comics the movies adapt are about those types of people.

“That is because relatability and inclusion has always been core to Spider-Man’s appeal and message. It’s why the late Stan Lee decided that, unlike other superheroes who expose parts of their faces, Spider-Man had to wear a full-face mask.”

Stan Lee only speculated that that was part of Spider-Man’s appeal, he never had any input on that design choice it was all Steve Ditko...who frankly was unlikely to have been thinking about that...

“Even further, Spider-Man isn’t the king of a country, a billionaire, a woman out of a Greek myth, or a brilliant scientist. He’s just an average high-school kid from Brooklyn who always strives to do the right thing even while struggling to balance his everyday life and hiding a secret identity.”

WHOA there buddy...Spider-Man isn’t routinely ‘a kid’ nor is he from Brooklyn.

MILES is from Brooklyn but Peter, as evidenced by that great big caption in Captain America: Civil War, is from QUEENS.

“And it’s the idea of balancing a secret identity with everyday life that has always allowed Spider-Man to connect with queer audiences long before comic writers were allowed to explicitly include LGBT characters.”

...I’m not denying this necesarrilly but whilst i’ve heard stories from poc who connected with Spider-Man I’ve never heard this about LGBTQ+ fans of Spider-Man.

“Indeed, perhaps the strongest part of Spider-Man’s inclusivity is the subtlety to which it has been done. While Black Panther, Black Lightning, and Wonder Woman rightly put issues of identity front and center, Spider-Man’s quiet diversity allows audiences who typically cry “SJWs are ruining my favorite characters” to actually see diversity showcased without it being overt.”

Errrrrrr...sure....*represses memories of when Miles Morales was first announced*

Lets um...wait and see what happens when those trans characters show up in the movie this year okay.

#Spider-Man #Peter Parker #Miles Morales

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nonasuch · 6 years

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dogfather update: christmas

As always, everything dogfather-related is tagged with the dogfather and story updates are tagged with dogfather story post. If you get antsy waiting for the next update, check out my AO3 or the zines and comics on my Gumroad.

Also, I WILL be at the Wicomicon pop-up in Baltimore on Saturday! Come say hi if you can make it!

Moony is waiting just on the other side of the barrier. He only accompanies them as far as the car, though, and casts a few discreet spells over it while he thinks no one is looking. It’s not any kind of magic he’s seen at Hogwarts yet, but Harry thinks they might be protection charms. He’d never noticed it before, or thought to wonder, but it occurs to Harry that Moony and Padfoot must do this sort of thing all the time, and have done for nearly half his life. Little bits of magic to keep him safe, whenever they get the chance.

Before they set out, Remus tells them “We’ll see you back at the house-- oof, you ridiculous creature, get down--” but as they drive away, he’s still trying to get Padfoot to stop jumping up and licking his face. Ron is too excited about riding in a car to notice, though.

Harry’s mum and dad have loads of questions, the whole way home. How are their classes, their teachers, the other students, that nice Hermione girl, her parents are so lovely, was Padfoot keeping them out of trouble?

“He does his best,” says Harry.

“That’s not a yes,” notes Harry’s mum.

“Whatever you’ve heard, Malfoy probably started it,” says Ron.

“He’s awful,” says Harry. “I wrote you about it, remember?”

“I knew boys like that, when I was a lad. Horrible little bullies, every one,” says Harry’s dad. “I don’t like to think about his home life, though, if he’s bringing that sort of behavior to school with him.”

Ron frowns. “His family’s really old and rich, though. He’s always on about Malfoy Manor this and pureblood that.”

“You’d be amazed at the way rich old families behave when they’re at home,” says Harry’s mum, quietly. “Some of them, anyway.”

Harry’s dad lets go of the gearshift, to take his mum’s hand for a moment. Harry knows his mum doesn’t talk to her family much, and sometimes she gets a bit sad about it ‘round the holidays.

(Most of the year, Caroline can say ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ and mean it. It just sneaks up on her, every once in a while.)

(There was never any big falling out, really. Just a series of straws that piled up: the uncles who sneered at her for not voting Tory, the beloved cousin whose funeral she alone attended, the remarks she wasn’t meant to hear about who was and was not our sort. When she imagined the way they’d look at her son, what they’d say about him when she was out of earshot, she found that she could live without them very happily.)

(Tim’s father died in the war. His mother lived to see them bring Harry home, and was delighted enough that it more than made up for the silence on Caroline’s side. Harry only just remembers her-- she passed when he was three. They’ve never been a large family, but in Caro’s estimation they have always been more than enough.)

(Anyway.)

“WE’RE HOME!” Harry shouts, as soon as he’s through his front door. From upstairs, he hears a startled sound and a thump, and after a few minutes Remus and Sirius, who Apparated back from King’s Cross, come clattering down the stairs.

“How was the car ride?” Sirius asks Ron.

“Bit weird,” Ron says. “Sort of like the Hogwarts Express, except that goes the same speed the whole way. Harry made it sound worse than it was.”

“I just wanted to warn you, in case you got carsick! Dad gets carsick if he isn’t driving,” says Harry.

“That happened once,” says Harry’s dad.

“Because you always drive, ever since,” Harry says serenely.

“I just stick my head out the window if I start feeling ill,” says Sirius.

“I think that only works if you’re a dog,” says Harry.

“All right, boys,” says Harry’s mum. “Go put your things away, and we can get started on the tree after we eat.”

While Harry and Ron unpack, and Harry introduces Ron to fascinating novelties like light switches and Nintendo and his mum’s hairdryer, the adults have a conference in the kitchen.

“Now,” says Caroline, once they’re settled and everyone has a mug. “What have you been leaving out of your letters?”

Sirius sputters, but she fixes him with a knowing look. “There’s something, I can tell.”

“Don’t look at me,” says Remus, when Sirius appeals to him for aid. “I haven’t said a word.”

“Yes, that’s why we’re asking,” says Tim.

“It’s really not ours to tell,” says Sirius.

He folds quickly, though, in the face of a matched set of stern looks. “All right! There’s a magical artifact that’s being kept at the school. But it’s nothing to do with Harry.”

“You said someone tried to curse his broom,” says Tim.

“Yes,” says Remus. “But someone tested the protections around the artifact that night, while everyone was distracted. So it might not have been about Harry at all. The trouble on Halloween wasn’t targeted, either, so far as we can tell.”

“There’s something off about the new Defense professor,” says Sirius. “But that’s not terribly unusual, in that job, and Dumbledore says it’s being handled.”

They’re interrupted, then, by the sound of someone trying to start the lawnmower in the back yard. By the time Harry and Ron have been retrieved, lectured, and sent upstairs to change into clothes that aren’t covered in grass stains, it’s time for supper.

It’s a little crowded in the kitchen. Once Remus charms the table longer and Sirius conjures extra chairs, they only just fit in the room. But that hardly matters. There’s plenty of food, wine for the grown-ups, an elaborate pudding waiting in the fridge. Stories about their first term come tumbling out of Ron and Harry, talking over each other in their excitement. Harry coaxes Moony and Padfoot into retelling a few of their Marauder exploits, since Ron has never heard them. Harry’s parents have news about family friends and Harry’s primary school friends. Caroline and Harry argue about the merits of the last book she sent him, while Tim attempts to explain the internal combustion engine to Ron.

After dinner, they hang stockings and trim the tree. There are new stockings, for Ron and for Remus, which makes them both go pink and quietly pleased. Sirius still insists on using the stocking they bought him his first Christmas with the MacIntyres, which says PADFOOT and has a fire hydrant appliquéd on.

Harry and Ron are assigned popcorn-stringing duty, and Ron complains it’s much easier with magic. They’re allowed to practice their levitation on the non-breakable ornaments, though. The tree is done nearly as quickly as it usually is, when they don’t use magic.

Tim goes to fetch his camera “All right,” he says. “Time for The Picture.”

“Da-ad,” Harry complains. “Really? Again?”

“Yes,” he says, as sternly as he can manage. “Again, and always, unto the end of time.”

“Best to humor him on this one, dear,” says Caroline. “I’ll get the bows.”

While Harry protests this indignity, Sirius explains, quietly, to Ron:

When Harry’s parents brought him home, it was nearly Christmas, and there were a great many jokes about Christmas miracles and surprise Christmas gifts from everyone who heard the happy news. So Caroline bought some oversized gift bows, and they took a family picture with an enormous red bow on each of their heads, and have done so every year since.

“For our Christmas cards, y’see,” says Tim.

“Mum says she’ll start sending Christmas cards again when Ginny’s done at Hogwarts or when we all stop trying her patience,” says Ron. “Whichever comes first.”

“Well, there’s seven of you, that seems fair,” says Remus.

Tim fusses over his camera settings until he pronounces them acceptable. He hands over photography duty to Remus with some ceremony, before he and Harry and Caroline arrange themselves in front of the tree.

Remus takes one version without the bows and one with-- one with Harry looking very put-upon at the hat-sized mass of red velvet ribbon, and one smiling-- Sirius changes into Padfoot and sits besides Harry, and Caroline produces an additional bow-- and then Harry says “Change back, Padfoot, and let’s do one with everyone!”

“Oh, I don’t need to--” says Remus.

“I mean, I’m not really--” says Ron.

“Nonsense,” says Caroline. “I’ve got more bows, come on--”

“But who’ll take the picture?” asks Ron.

“It’s got a timer, don’t be silly,” says Tim.

Ron is very impressed by this bit of Muggle ingenuity.

(Much later, after Harry goes back to Hogwarts, Remus gets grudging permission to use the Hogwarts potions supplies to develop this last photo. Severus Snape finds it hanging up to dry the next morning, when he arrives to collect the ingredients with which the fourth-year Hufflepuffs will no doubt disgrace themselves.)

(This is what he sees: six people, in front of a mantel crammed with stockings and a tree trimmed a little lopsidedly. They look wholly, improbably, unselfconsciously happy. One of the two boys sitting on the floor has his arm round the other’s shoulders. They’re sitting in front of a settee, occupied by a man and a woman in their early fifties, no one Severus recognizes. The man turns, periodically, to kiss the woman on the cheek. One of the two men standing behind the settee appears to have just told the other an excellent joke. Each time they finish laughing, they sling their arms around each other again with easy affection.)

(They all have enormous red velvet bows of their heads.)

(Snape will never, under pain of death, admit to having looked at the photo for more than a glancing, contemptuous moment.)

The days before Christmas are quiet. Harry’s parents still have to work, to start with, so Harry and Ron stay home with Moony and Padfoot, playing wizard chess, teaching Ron the intricacies and arcane lore of the Super Mario Brothers. Padfoot accompanies them to play pick-up football with Harry’s primary school friends, who greet him gladly and only tease him a little for now being the shortest one in the group.

Not only is Xia a half-inch taller than him, she scores two goals and is totally insufferable about both achievements.

“I am invincible!” she crows after the game, brandishing the football like a trophy while Jason and Omar and Katie chase her round the pitch. When they finally catch her, they have to give the ball to Malcolm for safekeeping, as he’s still half a foot taller than anyone else and can just hold it above his head.

After the game, Harry walks home with Ron and Padfoot in the twilight, their breath puffing out in clouds in the cold air. “They’re all right, your Muggles,” says Ron.

“They’re not my Muggles,” says Harry. “They’re my friends, same as you and Hermione.”

Ron concedes the point. “D’you think Hermione’s seeing her friends at home, too?”

“Well, she’s probably not playing football with them,” says Harry.

(He’s not wrong. Hermione never had a lot of friends, before she went to Hogwarts. Even then, she had trouble finding other children who saw her for what she was, who understood her when her clever mind went skipping ahead of her peers. There were a few, though, who shared her fiercely-held enthusiasms and her drive to know more, no matter the subject.)

(But they’re full of chatter about the things they’re studying in their own new schools: maths, not Arithmancy, and history without any magic at all. Composition and chemistry, not Defense Against Dark Arts, or Potions, or Herbology. For the first time in her life, Hermione has to hold her tongue about the things she’s learning. She’s counting the days til London.)

On Christmas Day, Ron wakes up first, and he and Harry creep downstairs before the sun is fully up. By the time any bleary-eyed adults stumble into the living room, they’ve sorted out the pile beneath the tree by recipient, and are near to vibrating with impatience.

Once all the grown-ups are more or less vertical and clutching a mug, they can start in on the presents.

Harry and Ron have whittled wooden flutes from Hagrid. They hoot delightedly at each other while Remus unwraps a fountain pen, and Sirius models a new jumper. Harry and Ron have jumpers, too, these from Ron’s mum, along with a tin of homemade fudge.

“I always get maroon,” Ron says, holding up his jumper.

“Swap with me?” offers Harry. “It’ll match my Gryffindor scarf.”

With a bit of charmwork to adjust the sleeve length, the exchange is pronounced acceptable by both boys. Harry’s dad confiscates the remaining fudge for after breakfast, though, along with the wizarding candy from Hermione.

Tim gets a new slow-cooker, and his mum gets new earrings and another old copy of The Importance of Being Earnest, which is an obscure joke between Harry’s parents that he has long since stopped paying attention to. There are more presents for him and for Ron, anyway: broom-care supplies from Padfoot and Moony, and a massive book called The Way Things Work for Ron.

“Look, it’s got all sorts of things,” says Ron, showing Harry an exploded diagram of a pencil sharpener. Flipping to the index, he says, “Hang on, what’s a space shuttle?”

There’s even a present for Whiskers: a clear plastic ball that she can run around inside, rolling happily down canyons of discarded wrapping paper and weaving between the chair legs.

It’s a lovely day. Everyone agrees. It stays lovely all the way through, all through dinner, at which Tim outdoes himself; through the Christmas crackers supplied by Remus, which play extremely loud brass-band fanfares and produce billowing clouds of colored smoke. After dinner Harry loses repeatedly to Ron at wizard chess. It snows just enough to justify bundling up again and going outside to romp around with Padfoot. By nightfall, there’s a fire in the hearth and the grown-ups are all sprawled on various pieces of furniture, wine glasses in hand. It’s one of the best Christmases Harry can remember having.

In the morning, Harry wakes with a start, not sure of what roused him. Ron, on the trundle bed, is awake too, if only just. “whazzat,” he says, blinking slowly.

“Dunno,” says Harry. And then he hears a loud thump, like someone slamming a door.

Harry pads downstairs, barefoot, Ron trailing behind him, and finds that his parents and Moony and Padfoot are all gathered in the kitchen, and they all look upset. Padfoot, in particular, looks thunderous.

“What’s wrong?” asks Harry.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” says Harry’s dad, trying to muster a smile. “Just a wee bit of an unpleasant surprise.”

On the kitchen table is a copy of the Daily Prophet, and on the front page is a rather blurry picture, cropped and enlarged from the Gryffindor Quidditch team photo Harry posed for just a few short weeks ago. And above it, in enormous letters, filling nearly half the page:

THE BOY WHO LIVES!

#the dogfather #dogfather story post

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