#and all of my friends are so GOOD AT IT and I grew up in a household where I was told it was cheating so all I’ve ever done is traditional

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Daddy, I Love Him, He's The One 💌🫶

Fic based on "But Daddy I love him" by Taylor Swift.

Bits of angst, gossip and judgy neighbours and friends, fluff, minors shoo!

💌💞

Hawkins learned of the relationship between you and Eddie one sunny morning in April. Graduation was fast approaching and you and Eddie had been together for six months, six months in secret but that was soon to change.

Gossip flew through the halls quicker than you could blink and the minute Stacy Willows clocked you and Eddie holding hands and kissing while exiting his truck, the whole school knew you were an item.

Exactly like how you and Eddie wanted and like the two of you predicted, the sight of the two of you was followed by whispers and pointed stares, stunned disbelief for some students.

The good girl, the straight a student and Hawkins princess with Eddie "the freak" Munson? It was a scandal of epic proportions and everyone had something to say about it.

I'll tell you something right now, I'd rather burn my whole life down

Than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning.I'll tell you something about my good name, It's mine alone to disgrace.

I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empaths clothing.

"What the hell are you doing wasting your time with someone like him?" April shrieks to you and you bristle at her tone.

"Someone like him?" your voice is low but dangerously so and April appears not to notice.

"You know, a loser. He's a freak and Jason says he's in that weird satanic cult" you roll your eyes and stop listening.

"Jason is an idiot and quite frankly I don't give a fuck about your opinion April" She gawks at you and Jessica who is beside her snorts, flips her hair over her shoulder and gives you a scornful look.

"Well if you want to ruin your reputation for that freak then that's up to you. It will sully you being with him" fuck. Did they ever get tired of being such judgemental bitches?

"We just want the best for you" April says kindly but you see the harshness in her eyes. How she didn't want the best for you, she wanted you to be a good girl and date the nice, boring guy and conform to her standards.

God saved the most judgmental creeps, who say they want what's best for me, Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see.

"It's my rep to ruin, not yours. And you know what? He's worth it". You walk away from them and feel the anger pulsing through your veins.

Thinking it can change the beat of my heart when he touches me and counteract the chemistry and undo the destiny.

No one except the people closest to Eddie saw the sweet heart that he had. Didn't look past his status as Hawkins freak to see the amazing guy he was.

He was loyal, a gentleman, protective of who he loved and you loved him with all your heart.

When you got to know him properly starting six months ago, the ease you felt with him was instant. So many people said Eddie was unapproachable and weird but they were wrong.

From the minute the two of you properly started hanging out, Eddie was nothing like you were made to believe. A protective outer layer, a sharp tongue and hyped up, don't fuck with me demeanor was hiding a soft heart underneath it all.

Within weeks the two of you grew closer, the princess and Eddie the Brave, that's what Eddie nicknamed the two of you. He'd weave amazing stories, entertain you for hours with different voices and characters. His creative energy knew no bounds.

When you kissed for the first time it was flawless, perfection and the two of you had been falling for each other ever since. Sneaking around, stolen moments together until it wasn't enough.

From the first I love you, the two of you decided to go public and weather whatever storm came your way. Now that you had it was a relief, you never wanted to hide Eddie and Eddie didn't want to hide you.

"I'd shout from the rooftops that you're my girl, princess" he tells you and you know he's serious about it too.

You ain't gotta pray for me, Me and my wild boy, and all this wild joy. If all you want is grey for me, then it's just white noise, then it's just my choice

By the evening of you and Eddie's relationship going public your parents had heard everything from their friends, their friends who like April and Jessica expressed concern about you dating Eddie.

Your father sat you down and told you in no uncertain terms that you were to stop seeing Eddie.

The thought of not seeing Eddie, of his beautiful brown eyes filling with love and adoration when he saw you, not hearing his laugh and his jokes and rants about things he was passionate about. It was too much. You loved Eddie and wanted to be with him.

There was no way you were going to just stop being with him because your parents cared what their shitty friends and nosy neighbours thought.

"But Daddy I love him" the words burst from your mouth and your mother looks like she might faint. Your dad has this steely look in his eyes and shakes his head furiously.

"That boy will not set foot in this house and I won't have my only daughter sully her reputation with someone like that"

Hearing enough you stand up and meet his gaze.

"Everyone in this town judges but they don't look past their own assumptions to see the truth. Eddie is amazing and I'm not going to stop seeing him. I love him and I'm not throwing that away".

With that said you storm upstairs and pack a bag, then you head outside to find Eddie already waiting for you.

"I knew you would need the support princess. How did things go?" You burst into tears and he pulls you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead and whispers in your ear, "Everything will be okay sweetheart, you'll see"

💌💞

For the next few weeks you lived with Eddie and his Uncle Wayne in their trailer. You've been here so many times that it already feels like home, comforting and like a warm hug after a really bad day.

There's still glances from people in town when you and Eddie venture out on a date to the cinema or to dinner but you really don't care.

Classmates, your parents friends were given your biggest, fake smile if they stopped you in the streets, you could tell that they were just looking for gossip so they could indulge in whispering about you behind closed doors.

If people thought that the looks and being one of the things this small town discussed with feverish interest would split you and Eddie then they were wrong.

In fact it brought you closer, Eddie figured none of the gossipers had anything better to do with their time and you're sure he's right.

There's a lotta people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer.

Not everyone is fake or nosy about you and Eddie though, Dustin's mother is lovely as is Joyce who is Jonathan and Will's mom. Hopper doesn't seem to partake in any gossip either and seemed to have a soft spot for Eddie.

The kids tease you for being so "lovey dovey" and make kissy faces when you're around but they are sweet and obviously worship Eddie and the safe haven he's created for them with Hellfire Club.

We came back when the heat died down, went to my parents and they came around. All the wine moms are still holding out, but fuck ‘em, it's over

Despite their reservations about you and Eddie, you did miss your parents and Eddie went to them when he noticed how down you were one night and then next thing you knew your parents had invited you and Eddie for dinner.

It was a week after graduation and your mother went all out for dinner. Catching you in a tight hug and holding you close.

"We'll work something out baby, I promise" she assures you and you relax knowing that things would get better. Bit by bit.

Now I'm dancing in my dress in the Sun and even my daddy just loves him. I'm his lady and, oh, my God, you should see your faces.

Your daddy came round to Eddie first. Well after a long chat with a beer and grilling Eddie about his intentions with you, and threatening to cut off a certain appendage if he ever hurt you.

This carried on for a few weeks until he was satisfied that Eddie was genuine.

Eddie had proved his love to you throughout the chats your dad said and he knew that Eddie would never hurt you.

"Darling, that boy looks at you like you hung the moon, and he is pretty good on the guitar. Do you think he might give me a lesson or two?" You grin happily, kiss your dad on the cheek.

Your mother took a little longer but when she did come around it was shown in little gestures. She would bake extra cookies for Eddie and Wayne, invited Eddie and Wayne to Sunday dinner and that was special in itself because those invites didn't come often.

But when your mother accepted it then that was it, she wouldn't hear a bad word against you and Eddie, her viper friends and their bitchiness were soon left in the dust.

Time, doesn't it give some perspective? And no, you can't come to the wedding. I know it's crazy, but he's the one I love.

Time passed, season by season. Eddie proposed just before Christmas the following year and your mother was excitedly planning the wedding. The rest of Hellfire and your friends were happy to help and just as excited as your parents about the upcoming nuptials.

I'll tell you something right now. You ain't gotta pray for me. Me and my wild boy, and all of this wild joy

(It was chaos, it was revelry)

If all you want is gray for me. Then it's just white noise, it's my choice.

Of course there were more fake words and expressing worry that it was too soon and there must be some big reason why you and Eddie were getting married after just a year and a half.

Screamin': But, daddy, I love him!

I'm having his baby. No, I'm not but you should see your faces and, oh, my God, you should see your faces.

"She must be pregnant" you heard someone whisper at the grocery store as you and Eddie passed them. Eddie rolled his eyes and squeezed your hand.

"Yeah that's it. I'm having his baby" the gossiping duo look stunned.

"No I'm not but look at your faces, maybe worry about your own life instead of mine" you tell them and they walk away looking scandalised.

God forbid that two people got married because they were in love.

It was chaos, it was revelry.

To all the ones who said that you and Eddie wouldn't last, well you and Eddie proved them wrong with that and continued doing so for the rest of your lives.

💞

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

[aliaology]

WANT ME DEAD

summary: loving and being loved by jack hughes was supposed to feel like a breath of fresh air— but the air was quickly stripped from your lungs when you realized it was never real

pairings: jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, one sided love, bets, death

uhm heavily UNEDITED LOLL she kinda sucks but

you knew jack was the one for you the moment he came up to you after one of his games just to apologize for someone in the crowd accidentally pouring their beer on you— someone who he had no idea existed.

you knew jack was the one for you when he would make an effort to call you every night, always waiting for you to answer before saying, “hey, pretty girl.”

you knew jack was the one for you when he came to your house the night after your brother got into a car crash. he held you tightly— whispered sweet nothings into your ear as his hold never loosened.

you knew jack was the one for you the moment ‘i love you’ slipped through his lips; like little secrets only he wanted you to know.

but, your entire relationship wasn’t private— no it was entirely public. not public in you posting each other, but public in him telling every little detail to his best friends: trevor and cole.

you realized jack was a shitty man the day you overheard him on the phone. his voice; the one you grew to love, was speaking to trevor.

you realized jack was a cruel man the day you heard him admit out loud to his mother how this was all fake. you realized his mother was an admiring woman the moment she started to yell at him. you realized jack would never be a good person the moment he lied to you.

“was any of it real to you?” you whispered as you looked at his back. you watched him tense up before turning to you.

“what—what do you mean?” he was acting oblivious— sinking into it.

“how much of our relationship was fake to you, jack?” you spoke, your eyes held pain in them as you teared up.

“where is this coming from, baby?” he asked.

you let out a scoff mixed with a choked sob. “why are you still performing in front of me? im not stupid jack, ive heard you! you called me stupid for believing this. you just told your mom it was just because you wanted money.”

“baby..” jack spoke lowly. his eyes held guilt, anger.

“were you sent by someone? someone who wanted me dead? because you are fucking killing me, jack. ive been back and forth with myself, trying to convince my head that you were lying; or even just joking. ive tried for defending you against my head for so fucking long, jack.”

you watched as ellen stood there; clearly torn apart by the entire thing. of course she loves her son, but he was ruining you.

“you knew i loved you— you knew that and you still did this? you couldn’t have a fucking heart and just reject me?” you were desperate— desperate for his love, even after this.

“i didnt want to hurt you..” he trailed off.

you let out another scoff. “good fucking riddance”

you had tears running down your cheeks. you turned around, trying to not let him see you cry. you felt his hand touch your shoulder— which you quickly shrugged it away.

“dont you dare— you have no right.. no right to touch me right now.” you were a mess— a full on mess. “you— i let you see all of me, all of it.” you brokenly whispered.

“i let you in— you came to my brothers funeral for fucks sake, jack! i cried on your shoulder— you told me, you said so many things.” you cried out.

jack watched you break down, his brows furrowed as guilt washed over him.

“i took you to my moms grave.” you whimpered out, your lip quivering as you shakily spoke.

ellen came over, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. “come on sweetie, lets get you outside.” she whispered.

you sobbed into your hands as she began to lead you outside. “mom—“ jack tried to speak but was immediately cut off by the look she gave him.

that night, you declared ellen hughes as your savior. that night, you declared jack hughes as the shittiest man to exist. the smallest man who ever lived.

i need to make a new taglist bc i forgot everyone and it was so messy last time 😭😭 lmk if u want tags from now on babes!!

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl hockey #new jersey #new jersey devils #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes imagine #jhugh86 #jhugh #jhughes #hughes brothers #jack hughes 86

[faeriekit]

Despair of Your Discovery

Phic phight fill for @carelisswriting. I am so sorry.

(Relevant warnings are tagged below)

**********

“Oh my god,” Danny says, horrified. “That’s…oh my god.”

The plant looks very innocent amongst the rows and rows of lush green pots in Sam’s greenhouse.

It isn’t.

“You cannot tell anyone,” Sam hisses, and shoves the wicker harvest basket back over the bush, as if there was anyone safe to tell! “Not a word. Not a whisper.”

“This is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“I know!” Sam snaps, looking two steps away from a screaming freakout. “But what can I even do with it?!”

The answer seems obvious. “Get rid of it?!” Danny exclaims, throwing his arms out for additional emphasis. “Making sure there isn’t any evidence left??”

“By what, burning it?!”

Danny opens his mouth to affirm the obvious— only to realize there is another, equally as obvious problem with the usual method of extermination.

“...Put it in the trash?” Danny tries again, grimacing. He crosses his arms, taps his toes. “I mean. It’ll go out eventually.”

“And if someone sees it in the trash?!” Sam volleys back, eyes wide with furious distress.

Okay. There's a clear problem here. All they need is a solution.

Tucker wanders into the greenhouse; he probably found out that they weren’t in Sam’s room and figured out their second location pretty quickly. “Hey, Sam; hey Danny. I thought we were doing Doomed today?”

“We’re not,” Sam and Danny chorus.

Tucker frowns. His eyes go back and forth between them. “...Is everything good?”

“No,” Sam says, cutting off Danny’s: “Sam stole another plant from the school garden again.”

“Oh. Is that all?”

Sam throws herself over the wicker basket and grooooooooans.

“Apparently someone was experimenting,” Danny offers flatly. “It’s bad.”

“How can a plant be bad?”

Sam straightens herself up, makes dead-on eye contact, and lifts the basket.

“Is that WEED?!” Tucker yelps. Danny immediately darts over to slap a hand over Tucker’s mouth, and the basket gets slammed back on top of the plant.

“Don’t shout!”

“Shouting is merited!! Sam grew drugs!!”

“On accident!!” Sam shouts back, very, very pale. “They just left the sprouts in the garden shed without any light or water!! I had to do something!!”

“Saaaaaamm,” Tucker groans, which is pretty unmerited, considering that Sam is probably the person suffering the most here. “Sam, we have to do something!"

“I know, I know!!”

“We know you hate pesticides, but isn’t there…some kind of natural weed killer? Or something?” Danny tries, struggling to think it through. “You can’t hand-pull all your weeds in this greenhouse. It’s massive.”

Sam bites her lip. She doesn’t answer.

“Sam…”

“It’s a waste of plant life to kill it,” Sam whispers. Her two best friends groan out loud, angled in two different directions.

“Sam. It’s illegal. You’ve got to get rid of it.” Tucker’s logic is cold, and brazen.

“...Fine.”

The procedure for killing off a plant the organic way is apparently pretty simple; vinegar, salt, and sunlight. The plant is looking dead and crispy under the glow lights in Sam’s greenhouse in less than an hour; by tomorrow, it’ll be long gone.

“We can never tell anyone this happened,” Danny decides, for obvious reasons. Tucker nods solemnly.

Sam sniffles a little, mascara running. Danny gently rubs her back.

#tw drugs #drugs tw #IT WAS FUNNY IM SORRY #kids don't do drugs. weed is bred to be way stronger than it used to be and has a lot of potential risks (such as triggering psychosis) #(or schizophrenia) #danny phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2024 #Sam Manson #danny fenton #tucker foley #tw drug mention #drug mention tw #faer fic

[mxtantrights]

Hello there, ‘tis I again! Soo happy you enjoyed the boxer!jason request!! I know, i love him too :)))

Today i bring forth another boxer!Jason ask, maybe you introduce him to your friends and they can’t see past the fact he kinda looks like a brute (even tho he’s such a big softie, i truly believe this man reads romeo and Juliet while waiting to get on the ring), and so at the end of the night he’s feeling insecure cause he could see how your friends looked at him and he starts wondering if they are right and you deserve someone who’s softer and more approachable. And obviously reader shows him just how amazing he is!!

Today i yearn for some good hurt/comfort, if you couldn’t tell lol

Hope you have fun writing this one!! Marvellous works 🩷🩷

Everything goes right before the two of you get there. Thats how Jason knows something is gonna go wrong at this hang out. You told him all week that if he felt like not going, you could cancel. But he didn't want it to seem like he was blowing your friends off. So he trudged through.

He trudged through and is sitting side by side with you in a booth. And three of your friends are crowded into the other side of it. They've had a couple of drinks before you came. You weren't really in the mood to play catch up so you stick to your one while Jason goes dry because he's driving.

They have conversations about the recent news, the latest gossip, and then they ask about your life. Particularly your life with Jason. You start gushing about him, as if he isn't there, and tell them about how you met and how he treats you.

"This guy? This six foot tall, three hundred pounded brick wall?" one of them asks.

You scoff, "How he looks has nothing to do with how he treats me."

"Yeah, but doesn't he-don't you box?" another one of them asks him.

Jason clears his throat and sits up straight. But you notice it. You notice how he is trying to make himself smaller. He did it at the very beginning of your relationship, to make you less scared. You talked to him about it when the two of you got closer, and you haven't seen him do it since. Until now.

"I'm a boxer, yes. But I don't bring any of that home with me." Jason answers.

"Isn't it hard though? When you're angry? I mean who's to say you won't-" the third friend starts.

Hell. This has to stop.

"Enough." you speak.

They all look at you, at a loss for words. While it's true the four of you grew up looking like people who were afraid to tell others no, and looked like doormats, you were far from that person. Those days are over.

"I'm not gonna let you speak to him like that. He has been nothing but kind and open with me, and not that it's any of your business, but he has never laid his hands on me, or raised his voice." you say.

Then you're getting up from the booth, holding your hand out for Jason. He looks between you and your friends and then he's getting up from his seat. He takes your hand in his.

"He's my boyfriend. I want him in my life and I wanna be a part of his. So either you get that or you get lost." You put finally.

You turn around and walk right out the door with Jason. Jason who hasn't said a word yet. Jason who is holding onto your hand in a way that tells you he's not completely paying attention.

When the two of you cross the threshold of the doors, you squeeze his hand.

"Baby?" you ask him.

Jason looks at you then. Like everything is coming back into focus for him. He has a sad smile on his face.

"I'm sorry." He says.

"Don't ever be sorry for being you. If my so called 'friends' couldn't see past what you look like and what you do for a living then they don't need to be my friends." you explain to him.

Jason shakes his head, "You've known them longer than me. It's not fair that-"

"Jason Todd, I am not willing to give you up. For anyone. Ever. You got that?"

Jason lets out a small sigh. "Okay."

You let go of his hand to hold out your arms. He pouts a bit before stepping closer to you and wrapping his arms around you completely. You nuzzle into him more.

"I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you. I hope you know that." you add on.

"Yeah?" he asks.

"I swear it." you answer.

a/n: thank you so so much for sending this in! <333 I love some good hurt/comfort too!! I hope you like it!!

#dc x reader #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd blurb #dc blurbs #dc #Jason todd #boxer!jason

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for refusing to buy my friend gold? 

I (f/33) have a very good friend (f/39) who is Hindu and an Indian immigrant, and this year she invited me and my wife (33) to celebrate Diwali with her. My wife and I are white canadians and not religious. We’ve been friends with her for almost a decade, but in the last few years have become very close and now she is basically family. We happily accepted.

We brought over food and the stuff to make paper lanterns, and we had a lovely time. The problem came when near the end of the night, when my friend told me that it’s been so long since she had people to celebrate Diwali with, and she was getting excited for presents. I didn’t know Diwali included presents so I hadn’t brought her anything, besides the craft supplies and food, she said that was fine and we could get her something next year.

I asked her what sort of gift she would like, and she said gold was the traditional gift and, I quote “but make sure it’s above 10 karat or it’s basically tin, I’d just throw it away.”

I thought this was a joke at first so I laughed, which made her confused. I explained that I would never give anyone gold as a gift, I’ve never even gotten my wife gold, we couldn’t even afford wedding rings. When she still looked confused I tried to clarify, and asked how much is a gift of gold, traditionally (since I’ve never bought gold, I had no idea how much it would cost.)

She told me a minimum of 500 dollars.

At this point is the behaviour I think might make me an asshole, because I was laughing in complete disbelief very openly. I told her that was completely insane, and I would happily spend every Diwali with her and get her a gift, but there was no way I was buying her 500 dollars worth of gold, ever, especially not if it was a yearly thing.

I know that in India, my friend was of a pretty high caste socially and her family is well off, and here in Canada she is an accountant who owns her own condo, and is looking to buy more property and become a landlord. My wife and I live frugally, we’re blue collar and both from working class families. An average amount I spend on a Christmas or birthday gifts for someone I’m close to would be about 20-50 bucks.

After I’d explained all this to her, I could tell she was disappointed and it had made her sad and confused. Part of me feels bad for laughing at her tradition, especially since she made the effort to include us and has no family here to celebrate with. But it honestly boggles me, and makes me a bit mad, honestly, which I know is unfair since it’s just differences in how we grew up, but I can’t help feeling annoyed and like she’s not seeing her privilege.

This has been compounded by the fact that for Christmas, which we also celebrated with her, she actually gave us gold, worth quite a lot, in the form of a special coin. We’re not the type to display fancy stuff, so it just sits in storage now. But I’m worried she may expect tit-for-tat, even though the only way we could possibly afford to give her gold back in exchange is if we sold what she gave us which we are definitely not supposed to do.

We still hang out constantly and we will continue to do so, she is a for-life friend for a lot of reasons, and I’d love to make her holidays and celebrations special, but this is just a sticking point for me, and I find myself feeling/acting like a prick every time it’s brought up.

So, AITA? Does anyone have suggestions for this situation?

#aita #am i the asshole

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 8

Hey, guys! The plot is plotting and coming along. I've just had a rough week last week and really didn't get too far on any of my works but the omegaverse sequel. So I'm chomping through my backlog (which is a good thing, I promise, that's what it's for).

In this Steve has to deal with the not fun side of the music business, but Eddie is there to soothe the way.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7

****

Steve chewed on his nail as he looked over the contract for the tour they were going to be headlining for Corroded Coffin. It came with their usual anonymity clause.

The part Steve wasn’t sure about was the part where the guys and his roles on the tour to hide that they were part of the band.

Spence being a medic made sense. He was medically trained as an EMT and kept up on his certification even after they made it big.

Simon’s made sense too. Eddie had seen him as a roadie that night, so him continuing that was fine.

It was Shane and Steve’s that concerned him. He didn’t want to PA for The Fallen because then Dustin and his friends would want things like backstage passes and VIP tickets.

Things Steve didn’t want to do because that would get them too close to the action and he worried they would notice that they wouldn’t see Abbadon and him in the same place and put two and two together.

Shane’s role was that of an advance person. Someone that rode into town first to make sure everything was as it supposed to be according to their rider.

Steve loved Shane with all his heart, but he couldn’t think of a worse “job” for him.

Plus it wouldn’t make sense because he wouldn’t be on the same bus as the rest of the band.

He called up Robin.

“Hello!” she chirped her greeting. “What’s up?”

“I’m looking over the contract and they want me to PA and Shane to advance.”

There was silence on the line for a moment or two before Robin said, “I’m on it. I’ll get back to you.”

“Thanks, Celeste,” Steve teased.

He was not surprised when she just hung up on him. He chuckled.

His best friend was working on getting Shane and him in the right roles. On their last tour, Shane and Simon had been roadies and Steve had been an assistant like Robin.

Steve looked back at the contract with a sigh. He set it aside and pulled out his notebook. He couldn’t write lyrics or music, but he could write down his thoughts and feelings.

He wrote about the fear of being discovered, of showing his true self. What people would think of him and his friends. Everyone said that metal fans were among the most welcoming in the industry.

Unless you looked like someone they didn’t approve of. Steve couldn’t remember which 1980s rocker it was, but the dude was papped outside a store waiting for his wife in cargo shorts and Birkenstocks and the internet had a fucking field day.

Like how dare he go to the store not dressed all in black and leather and chains everywhere.

It was no doubt the biggest reason no one had cottoned on to him and his friends being The Fallen. Because why would four preppy guys be the members of the hottest rising metal band right now?

He flipped to a different page and began writing about finding love where you left it. Eddie had always had Steve’s heart, ever since they were thrown together when a freak earthquake that was caused by nearby fracking destroyed almost half the town they grew up in.

Eddie ran the local DND club which Dustin and his friends had been a part of.

Steve had managed to keep all of them safe and Eddie, who had been unsure of the former jock had warmed up to him by the time they had come through at the end of the week long ordeal.

Steve had fallen in love with Eddie’s sense of humor, his dimpled smile, and doe brown eyes.

So he wrote about that too.

By the time Robin had called back he had written so much his hand was cramping.

“Hello, hello!” he greeted warmly.

“Hey,” Robin said. “So I talked it over with their lawyers and ours and I think we’ve go the solution.”

“Hit me with it,” Steve said.

“Right so we have Shane assisting with me,” she said. “He doesn’t have anyone really close to him who would ask for favors and shit, or at least not ones he wouldn’t gleefully tell to fuck off.”

Steve sighed in relief. “That’s good.”

“You were a little trickier,” Robin admitted. “But then I remembered you picked up a couple of CPR certifications in the past and got them to make you medic too. You just have to take the refresher courses while we’re in the studio.”

Steve chewed on his thumb. He had wanted to be an EMT before he met Spence and saw how much it took out of him.

“Wouldn’t it look bad if two medics suddenly vanished for two hours every night?”

Robin chuckled. “You’re assigned especially to the band. So you can’t be called during a performance. I do think of these things you know.”

Steve sighed with relief. “I know you do, I just worry.”

“Worry wart,” she teased. “It’ll be fine. You just have to keep it in your pants while on tour because an EMT dating a rockstar is going to be suspicious as hell.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “You mean like every other tour we’ve been on?”

“Only this time,” she said, voice dangerously low, “you’ve got temptation in the form of one Eddie Munson, the man you’ve been pining over for literal years.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve groused. “Am I at least allowed to be seen with Eddie you know, considering we are friends?”

Robin sighed dramatically. “I guess. Just try to keep the PDA to a minimum please.”

“I promise.”

This was going to a very long three month tour.

****

Jim Hopper was a former Marine and he looked it. He was built like a tank with a grizzled appearance and cigar tucked between his teeth. Simon thought that he thought Hopper scared the enemy off just glaring at them and Steve privately agreed.

He was there for two reasons. To deprogram their stage persona and to brush Steve up on his emergency medical training.

Actually they all were learning because it was it interesting. Simon and Shane didn’t need to pay attention for certification, but they did anyway.

“How long do you guys plan to be in the studio this week?” Hopper asked. “I need to know if I need to have someone else pick up my daughter from the airport.”

“They want us to have at least eight hours in the studio a day,” Shane explained. “They want us to get as much done as we can before Corroded Coffin goes on tour so they can at least release a single or two.”

Hopper nodded. “Then I should be fine. She’s a fashion designer in New York and the fashion house she works at is sending her out here to intern at their LA branch.”

“That’s awesome!” Shane said. “Maybe while she’s here we can fan her design our costumes for the new tour.”

Hopper shook his head. “As long as it paid. This internship sure ain’t.”

Robin threw her arms in the air. “Fine! I’ll see what the budget is for that and get back to you.”

Hopper chuckled.

“They have you wrapped around their fingers, girly.”

Robin smirked. “Don’t I know it.”

****

That night Steve called Eddie up.

“Hey, baby,” he cooed.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie greeted back. “How did today go? It was first day with the deprogramer, right?”

Steve curled up on the sofa and tucked his feet under him. “It was okay. He’s a bit scary, but apparently he has a daughter Dustin’s age.”

“The butthead will be pissed he missed that,” Eddie chuckled.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed warmly. “She’s really pretty, too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Suzie’s a great girl. But we all know here parents aren’t going to let her marry someone ‘outside the faith’ as it were.”

Steve chewed on his thumbnail. “Yeah. I was hoping with them both going home for the whole summer would break them up.”

Eddie scoffed. “It’s good thing talk and text is included in mobile plans these days unlike in early days of yore when mobile plans made you pay for every text message and long distance calling, otherwise their cell phone bills would be through the fucking roof.”

“Tell me about,” Steve huffed. “And he’s going to spending the last week of vacation in Utah with her.”

“Eeee,” Eddie said with a grimace, “is it bad of me that I hope her parents scare him off?”

“Maybe a little,” Steve admitted. “But I just want him to be happy, you know?”

Eddie let out a long drawn out sigh. “Yeah. So you guys got the contract all figured out?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Steve muttered. “It’s going to be hard being in the studio and taking EMT course to pretend to be medical personnel. Well not really pretending. Both me and one of the other band members have training. Me with being a lifeguard for awhile there and them with being an EMT. But it feels wrong somehow.”

“Is there something else, some other role you can fill?” Eddie asked after a moment or two of silence.

“Not according to Robin,” Steve groused. “She says it’ll be fine and no one will figure it out. And I trust her. Her plans have gotten us through two tours already, one even being overseas...”

“But you’re still worried because I’ll be on the road with you?” Eddie asked gently.

Steve threw his head back and groaned. “God that sounds so horrible of me.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie admonished. “It’s not. It’s an extra variable you didn’t have to factor in before. But we will make it work.”

“I think the biggest part is that Eddie and Steve have to remain friends until after the tour so everyone doesn’t connect Steve with Abbadon,” he said. “God that sounded pretentious. Talking in third person like some Chad.”

Eddie giggled. “Maybe a little, but I got what you mean.”

“Don’t laugh!” Steve whined. “My dick is going to fall off from the sheer amount of blue balling that’s going to be happening on this fucking tour. Well not fucking actually. I’m going to be in hell!”

“And people tell me I’m dramatic,” Eddie said laughing out loud. “What do you normally do on tour?”

Steve sat up and stretched his feet out in front of him on the sofa. “It’s complicated.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t doubt that, sweetheart. Are we talking NDAs or fucking with the masks on?”

Steve laughed. “It’s more like no phones, dark room, no staying the night. That sort of thing.”

“I’m betting there aren’t many that agree to that.”

“More than you’d think,” Steve snorted. “Groupies gotta fuck.”

“We’ll figure something out. I won’t let those pretty balls go blue,” Eddie said with a snicker.

“Help me, Eddie-wan Kenobi, you’re my only hope!” Steve cried in a sharp falsetto.

Eddie laughed. “You’re a menace, Steve Harrington.”

“And you love it.”

Warmth just flooded Eddie’s tone when he replied, “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Eds.”

****

Tag List: @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

@val-from-lawrence @goodolefashionedloverboi @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @yikes-a-bee @bookbinderbitch

@bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian

@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

[padfootagain]

Only an Almost (IV)

Chapter 4: First Time

Hello!! Here is a new chapter! This is one includes sexual themes, even if no explicit descriptions, so no minors here, please!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

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

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2435

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew and you didn’t see each other for a few days. You were both busy with work, and an impending fear seemed to hang above the two of you. You were both happy to pretend that you didn’t have time to see each other, it was easier to tiptoe around the line of friendship rather than to cross it for good.

But then Saturday arrived, and with it Andrew’s promise to help you move furniture around your house. You were buying a new bookshelf, and needed to move a couple of things to accommodate the larger shelves.

It was raining, for a change. When Andrew knocked on your door, his hair was curlier than ever, and on its way to get properly drenched. Luckily, you hurried to let him inside the warmth of your house.

“Alright, muscles! Let’s get you dry and warm, and then you can show all that manly strength of yours!” you joked, making Andrew laugh before you had even closed the door behind him.

“Yes, ma’am. I am but your humble servant today.”

It was your turn to laugh. You walked to your kitchen to start a kettle, while Andrew was ridding himself of his wet shoes and coat.

“So, how many muscles will be pulled today?” he asked, walking into your living room to assess the work to be done for the afternoon.

You appeared soon after, carrying two cups of tea; you handed him the one containing two teabags.

“We need to move the sofa, the coffee table, and all the furniture set against this wall,” you explained. “Once that is done, we need to pick up my bookshelf at the shop, and bring it home. We can set up everything now, it shouldn’t take too long.”

“Last time we’ve tried to build a piece of furniture together was at Jon’s, and it took us three hours… I expect to be free at nightfall,” Andrew pointed out, but you shook your head.

“No, don’t worry about that. I can assemble the bookshelf on my own.”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow.

“You don’t want any help?”

“I can do it.”

“I know you can… I’m asking if you want help.”

“I don’t want to bother you…”

But he merely let out a laugh.

“When did you decide to stop being insufferable?” he joked, making you roll your eyes. “Y/N… I’m here to help, so let me help.”

You grew a little shy, and Andrew tried to ignore the way it made his heart inflate, warmth spreading in his chest at the sight.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course!”

He drank a little bit of tea, before rolling up his sleeves.

“Alright, tell me where we’re putting all these.”

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

“Pivot! Pivot!”

“I can’t believe you’ve made that joke… Andy!”

“Put it down. Y/N, just put it down, we’ll pick it up again.”

You heaved a relieved sigh as you put down the large cardboard box in your hallway. You took a couple of deep breaths, trying to slow down your heart.

You caught Andrew rubbing his back as you turned to him.

“Okay, next time I need help with something like this, I’ll ask someone my height. Are you okay, Andy?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. You should close your door, and then we’ll lift this up again and get it safely to your living room.”

You managed to get the box in the right room on your second attempt, even if your arms and hands were sore by now.

Building the bookshelf was quicker than expected, thanks to Andrew’s help. He heaved a content sigh once you were finally done.

“Not too bad!” you nodded, an excited smile on your lips.

He leaned back on his hands, admiring your work. You were both sitting on the ground, in the mess of cardboard and spared screws that came with building furniture.

“So… that means…”

“I can buy so many more books…”

He let out a bright laugh, shaking his head at you with a fondness that made you look away.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Hey! How many books did you buy last time we went to the bookstore together?” you asked back, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ll have you know my purchases were perfectly legitimate.”

“The first two, maybe. Not the six that came next…”

Andrew laughed again, he couldn’t help it. And it made you break your act, the most beautiful sound in the world…

“Alright, alright. I might have a bit of an addiction.”

“Want some tea before you go?”

“You don’t want help organizing your brand-new shelves?”

“I reckon I’ve bothered you enough for one day.”

“God, stop saying that,” he mumbled, a tinge of annoyance in his voice. “You’re never bothering me, Y/N.”

You gave him a smile, the kind that made his heart melt, that illuminated his entire world…

… Christ, he was such a desperate case.

“Even when I steal all your chips?”

It made him laugh again, of course, even if it was silly. Perhaps because it was silly. You were adorable like this, sitting on the ground with pieces of cardboard all around, your hair a mess and wearing your most comfortable clothes. Domestic. That’s how the scene looked. It could have been a moment held in a shared home…

He wanted to make a snarky remark, but his heart was too soft, too warm, a little too painful as well.

“Even when you steal my chips.”

Your smile grew more mischievous, and Andrew’s gaze lingered on your lips.

“Now that you’ve admitted that, you’ll never get the chance to eat chips ever again.”

You both chuckled at that, and Andrew leaned closer to you without noticing, sitting straighter again. He didn’t pay attention to the way you leaned closer as well.

“Alright, that is too much. I like you enough to concede… 1% of my chips. Not one more.”

“One?! And you say you like me?” you huffed. “I deserve at least 25% of your chips.”

“You’re never getting one-fourth of my chips. Have I never mentioned that chips are my passion in life? You’ll get 5%.”

“20%.”

“I won’t go above 7%.”

“Come on, 10%...”

You leaned even closer, so close your shoulder was brushing his arm. So close, he could feel the warmth of your breath on his chin as he bent down a little.

He struggled to swallow. The thought crossed his mind that you were barely a breath away, that all he had to do to kiss you was to slightly tilt his head and lean down some more…

When did the temperature of the room rise so much?

When did the playful atmosphere turn into this longing?

“Alright, 10%.”

“Deal.”

You offered him your hand, and he looked down at your open palm. He shook your hand, his so much larger than yours. When he looked up, you were blinking, lips slightly parted. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, decided to let you break your hold on him. But you didn’t. Instead, your gaze dropped to his lips, and you tightened you tightened your hold on his hand. Andrew’s heart skipped several beats, he glanced at your mouth as well. When your gazes met once more, you let go of him, and Andrew blushed furiously, ready to pull away, to pretend that nothing had happened.

But then your fingers were lifted to his cheek, your thumb softly stroking his beard. He blinked at you, holding his breath.

When you leaned up, he could barely believe it.

“Andy?” you whispered, your lips almost touching his.

“Yes?” he struggled to swallow, voice low and deepened by want.

“Are you still okay with… what we discussed the other day? About… our arrangement?”

Andrew tried to speak, but he merely nodded instead.

“Can I kiss you, then?”

But instead of answering, Andrew merely closed the gap between your mouths.

It was as wonderful as he remembered, just as overwhelming, as perfect… a feeling he never wanted to end. A sensation he knew he would never stop seeking if he lost you…

The kiss, this time, quickly got heated though. Andrew’s lips had soon found the sweet spot over your pulse, and he busied himself gently biting on the skin of your neck, before kissing it to sooth the tickling flesh. You were breathless in his arms, hands lost in his hair, gently pulling now and then.

When you started to unbutton his shirt, shivers ran through his entire frame.

“Can we take this to the bedroom?” he asked, voice raw and deeper than you had ever heard, deep enough to make your soul tremble, lust audible in his tone.

His pupils were as dilated as yours when you looked at each other.

You quickly nodded, staggering to your feet.

You offered him a hand, one he knew he couldn’t refuse.

“Just sex, though. We still agree on this?” you asked.

Andrew’s chest tightened, and yet as he looked up at you, your lips reddened with kisses, a mark left by his mouth over the curve of your neck, a lustful look in your eyes… he could never have said no. He would have accepted anything to have you, no matter the consequences for him.

“Yes. Yes, we agree.”

You helped him up, keeping your hand in his as you guided him to your bed.

You were still holding his hand.

There was no sound in the room but your two breaths, heaving across silence, scattering over empty space and furniture and the perspiration across your brow.

Andrew couldn’t look at you yet. His mind was just coming down from its height, from reaching for the heavens and gently landing back into your bed, across the soft cotton sheets that smelled of lilac and you. His thoughts were still a little foggy, a little distant even, hanging above him just out of reach. The dizziness that came with utter pleasure and release was dissipating, leaving some room for the return of realisation and consciousness.

He had sex with you. Andrew had just had sex with you. You had slept with him. And God, what love-making that was…

Your hand tightened slightly around his, and he finally gathered his courage to turn his head on the pillow, blinking and then looking at you.

You were dishevelled, struggling for breath still, your eyes closed. Your bare chest was heaving; he couldn’t help but let his gaze trace your shape, the lines of your skin, the perfect curves of your body, for now still uncovered by the sheets. You looked messy and perfectly content. Glowing in some way only pleasure could bring.

He wished for this to be the only sight he would ever see from now on.

“Wow… that was amazing, Andy…”

His lips curved into a cocky grin.

“So… not as disappointing as expected?”

You chuckled at that, finally turning your head to look at him.

“Barely.”

You exchanged a tender smile, while he raised his hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His hand lingered to cup your cheek, touch gentle, loving even.

“It was amazing for me too, by the way,” he whispered, moving closer, his tone as quiet as a confession.

You leaned closer to kiss him, and you tasted like heaven, something sweet and impossibly you, a taste he would never forget and always crave for…

“Hold me… please,” you asked in a whisper, and he didn’t hesitate as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you against him. You rested your ear right against his heart, listening to the steady beat of the organ.

You nuzzled into his chest, one of your hands still holding his, the other resting across his stomach where you drew mindless patterns that lulled him into a peaceful state, one he had not reached in years. He bent his head to kiss your hair.

This could work, he thought. None of what had just happened felt like a mere fling, like some meaningless sex. There had been a connection the second your lips met. It wasn’t fucking, it was making love. And now, you were craving for his embrace as much as he was longing for yours. This could work. For now, your life was complicated and stressful. It was okay, Andrew would wait for you to be available again, for you to be ready to give him a proper chance. It would be alright, all he had to do was to be patient. You couldn’t properly date him at the moment, but nothing that had occurred in this bedroom was mere physical attraction. It was more than just sex. You pretending that it was nothing more than a friends with benefits situation… it was temporary. Andrew was not fooled. You were still holding his hand. It would be fine, it was more than just sex… so much more…

He pressed his lips to your hairline.

“God, you’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he whispered, and he felt your smile against his skin.

His hold on your waist tightened slightly, before he would move his hand across your back, long fingers splayed across the base of your spine. Feeling your bare skin against his was driving him absolutely insane…

“Let’s take ten minutes like this, and then I’ll clean the mess we’ve made in the living room.”

“An hour.”

You chuckled, pinching playfully his side.

“Quit having such a terrible influence on me, would you? I’ll give us fifteen…”

“Why the rush?” he argued, his eyes closing while his lips were still resting against your skin and he breathed in the blooming scent of your shampoo. “This is nice… let’s enjoy the moment, okay?”

You didn’t say anything, remained quiet, went back to tracing patterns against his skin.

It lasted a few blissful minutes, before you were sitting up.

You let go of his hand.

“I’m gonna go clean up everything in the living room, and reorder my bookshelves. Do you want some tea?”

You weren’t looking at him, as if you were avoiding his stare. Andrew wondered why.

“No, thanks. I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks, though.”

You hurried back into your clothes, and Andrew grew self-conscious, now that he was the only one still naked. He reached for his underwear as well, then his undershirt.

“You’re alright, baby?”

You finally turned to him.

“Let’s make a new rule. No pet names. Okay?”

He blinked up at you from the bed, taken aback, too much so to stop you from leaving the room.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x fem!reader #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #series #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 40 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | all lessons | lesson 39

the end of an era (season 2)

normal and hard spoilers

oh baby :(

see every time i remember how sheltered diavolo is it makes me hate his father that much more. he grew up with everything in the world, but practically nobody to share it with.

diavolo had to have been smart enough to have caught onto the reason behind mephisto's attachment to him at an early age. he might be dense, but he's not stupid. even if he and mephisto did end up becoming really good friends, diavolo knew early on that their proximity was for business and royalty purposes only, and that friendship and a genuine relationship was second to their professional relationship

i feel like this is why he initially thought of the brothers as treasures in regard to status rather than as people, and the mindset shifted to seeing them as treasures in regards to the relationship he formed with them. he wanted genuine connection, but forming a professional connection before a genuine relationship was so deeply ingrained in him that he defaulted to it without even realizing it

...he can't be fucking serious

GET HIM OUT I BEG

he would've done this regardless of the option we picked during the angel's trial i hate it here...can't he take a class or smth instead of experimenting on us

i'm gonna kill him /j

i'm a whore in the game so i technically date everyone at once. but why does he NEVER say i love you back ????? not even in the first game ????????

like ok you're a time demon who shouldn't get attached to anyone and you choose to stay unattached bc you'll lose everyone anyways blah blah blah but at least indulge me a little bit 💔

SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY I LOVE THEM

i feel like they know this is their last goodbye yk? obviously barbatos does, but this feels very, very final on their part. maybe it's a different version the feeling they have when they go into mc's room, like they can feel mc being pulled away from them physically

what if the end of the lesson or the story in the hard part of the lesson is them portalling back to their timeline and the brothers getting a glimpse of their alternate selves? and then everything clicking into place after mc leaves?

the fact that simeon has as many doubts about his father's intentions as lucifer and his brothers did really solidifies my belief that he wanted to, in the worst case, fall with the brothers. and if he didn't fall, he'd at least have begged for answers as much as lucifer did before the war. he was demoted after the war for helping the brothers in canon, and i feel like he still beats himself up about it because of the side he chose. him and raphael both, but raphael is better at hiding it

(i have a whole post about simeon and michael before the war here)

i've said this about a million times but...

the brothers ever 🫶🏽

they're such shitheads but also extremely concerned i love their dynamic sm

SEE I TOLD YOU ‼️ HE MASKS HIS FEAR WITH ANGER (even though i'm pretty sure this was confirmed in canon in the og game and in nb s1)

him admitting that he was scared though? putting his pride aside and actually talking about his feelings for once? this is proof of how much he trusts mc, how much he loves and cares for them, even if he can't explain why the feelings he holds for them are so strong

it also shows that he's thankful to have someone who will care about and protect his brothers as much as he does, and some of the weight of the "oldest brother" mantle has been lifted. it allows him to be vulnerable and at least a little more carefree, which is why he's seen joking and laughing with his brothers so much more often in the later lessons in comparison to season 1 and early season 2

i feel like i'm SUPOOSED to reach bc why would he phrase it like that ??? i don't think he knows...but he's really intuitive

or maybe this was a way of the devs using him to unofficially-officially send us off and into our original timeline. idk. i'm reaching but they made me

THEY DID NOT

oh i'm really gonna cry...they took what we wrote in season 1 and showed it to the boys

i COMPLETELY forgot we even did this 😭 god i'm gonna cry i love this game sm

I KNEW NO TIME PASSED THANK GODDDDDD

i don't think i'd be able to handle it if the same amount of time passed across realms

i also think this is why they emphasized "time soup" so heavily, you can be put anywhere at any time as if nothing had changed

...i can't believe it's over

...for now at least

well time to read the HDD story and catch up on devilgram

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me spoilers #nightbringer spoilers #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #diavolo obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me mc #obey me mephisto #obey me mephistopheles #solomon obey me #barbatos obey me #obey me brothers #simeon obey me

[narryffdreaming]

A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — TWO

Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.

Rating: +18

WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.

PART TWO: 14,9k words Please read: Part two explores a lot of Aurora's irrational thoughts and it shows how much she struggles to be herself after being married to someone who was emotionally abusive to her. From my perspective, it's a really important chapter to develop the relationship between Aurora and Harry, but I want people to be mindful of its content in case they don't feel comfortable reading about this, or in case it hits too close to them. Feel free to reach out if you want to skip something and you'd like me to fill you in. <3

PART ONE

Despite the line, getting through security would've taken Aurora hardly three minutes. That is, of course, if she hadn't had to wait for Harry for another ten. 

He doesn't look the least apologetic for the held back, though. Nor bothered in the slightest by the extra time he seemingly needed. Smiling at her and holding their shared tray as he tilts his chin to an empty table and leads the way towards it. 

Aurora follows him quietly, checking her watch just to make sure they won't run out of time. And she does it unconsciously, regretting every time she catches herself looking at her wrist. Because she knows they're early. She swears she knows. And she wishes she could relax and just enjoy things without that awful feeling rushing through her body. That feeling that turns into a voice and yells at her that she's constantly behind. 

Behind what, one could ask, and Aurora wouldn't be able to answer.

She's just… Behind. 

Behind, and watching her life go by.

All the damn time.

Harry stops by the table, and Aurora mimics him. She drops her bag and falls on one knee, pulling up the hem of her dress and uncovering her foot. The Nike sneakers she's wearing used to be white once, but now they are just old and dirty, and she loves them even more like this. She nibbles the flesh inside of her bottom lip while tying the shoelaces up, then changes to her other knee, and repeats the process. 

Once she's done, she stands up and pats her legs, getting rid of any airport floor dirt from her clothes. 

"You're fast," Harry says, putting his foot down from the edge of the table. 

Aurora pulls the fabric of her dress up her chest and furrows her brows. "I am?"

"Hm, yeah." He frowns with amusement and chuckles. "You sure are."

"Huh." She wiggles her eyebrows up and down, then quirks the corner of her mouth up. 

Maybe, she should point out that perhaps she isn't fast, but he is too slow. Or that, unlike him, she'd organized everything beforehand so she wouldn't waste any second longer than she absolutely needed to. But what good would that do? Besides, those thoughts don't even feel like hers. They don't sound like hers. 

So she says nothing, instead, and steps closer to where he stands. 

Harry gives the tray they're sharing a gentle push to her side, and puts his other foot up. 

Aurora promptly slides the tray closer to her and places it in front of her belly, next to her bag. 

Great. 

Saying nothing was a bad idea, because silence is awkward now. 

She licks her lips and keeps her attention on their belongings, not knowing exactly what to say. 

Time goes by, though, and the longer she waits, the more awkward it gets. 

So she decides to just say whatever, just to get them talking again. 

"Perks of being a mom, I guess." She blurts out, then grabs their passports and shrugs. "Being fast, I mean." 

Harry leans on his bent knee and looks at her over his shoulder, blindly tying up his own shoes. 

"Yeah? Why's that? You get any super speed powers when you're pregnant or something?"

Aurora freezes for a second, passports still in hand. She turns her head to the side, and narrows her eyes at him.

Harry's soft lips are pursed, his green eyes are twinkling with playfulness, and his cheeks are tinted with a boyish flush under his facial hair. He's clearly having fun with his own silly comment, and it causes Aurora to break into a short laugh — not because it's funny, but because she simply can't help it. 

She shakes her head, and looks back at the tray. 

"I rush to get ready so I can pay attention to Noah, okay?" she explains, grabbing the boarding passes and checking the names on them. She puts hers inside of her passport, and the other inside of Harry's. "It's not a big deal."

She'd never thought about it, but it's the truth — she is usually busy keeping an eye on Noah, even from a distance. The little monster can't stay still for too long, and no matter how much she adores how energetic he is or that she tries her best to let him explore things by himself, the truth is that he's still only four, and she can't leave him wandering around unattended.

Which is why she fought so hard to sign him up for preschool — it gave her time to slow down and do other things, too.

Okay. See? That — that right there — is Aurora's truth. That's a thought that feels and sounds like hers. A thought that she came up with on her own, based on her own experiences and her own mistakes. A thought that reveals how she's learned that taking care of Noah is her responsibility, and that if she doesn't pay attention to her son, nobody does. 

No matter how much she dreamed it would be different.

No matter how much she believed it should be different. 

"Ohhh," Harry says. "Ok, then."

She sticks her passport and boarding pass into the front pocket of her bag, maybe a little bit more forcefully than she needs to.

"Exactly. So don't judge me."

"What?!" Harry laughs, putting his foot down from the table. "I wasn't—" 

"I can't leave my son unattended, can I?"

"I—I know, yeah." His face falls, and he nods. "I get it. That's… It makes sense. Yes." 

"Right. Great." 

A second goes by, and then another one, and another one.

Silence settles again, but this time Aurora isn't worried about it being awkward or not. 

There's just… So much going on. 

Her heart is thumping loudly inside her chest, and her ears are buzzing. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him. 

She shouldn't have snapped at him.

It wasn't about him. 

It wasn't his fault. 

She pinches the tip of her nose and breathes in. Slowly, and steadily. 

One more time. 

Slowly.

And steadily.

And then, she moves again.

She holds Harry's things in her hand and leans on the table, reaching for his bag. Before she touches it, she looks at him over her shoulder and asks, "Do you mind if I open your bag?"

Harry doesn't answer, though. He's tilting his chin down and shaking his leg, making sure his pants are properly covering his ankles. 

Aurora purses her lips and straightens her back, then slides his bag across the table and pulls it closer to her body. 

Now everything's in front of her, the tray caged in between both duffel bags. 

She bites her bottom lip, but it's hard to stop her mouth from turning into a smile. 

Maybe the speed in which she moves isn't an inconvenience, after all. In fact, maybe it even comes in handy, because apparently if she doesn't move for both of them, someone will sooner or later shove them away. 

"Harry," she insists.

"Hm?" He looks up. A frown crinkles his face — his eyebrows are pulled together, his forehead is puckered, and his lips are curled downwards. As soon as he meets her eyes, though, his shoulders drop, and he shakes his head. "Sorry."

He scratches his jaw, dragging his nails over his stubble. 

Aurora stretches her arm, and pats her hand on the edge of the table, where his feet were a minute ago. "It's fine. I was just asking if it's okay to put your passport inside your bag."

"Oh! Yeah yeah, sure. Go ahead. Thanks."

"'Kay," she says, already unzipping the front pocket and putting things away. 

Aurora rolls her shoulders at the same time Harry moves closer, and she unthinkingly snatches his belt from the tray and hands it to him. 

"Here."

"Oh," he murmurs, grabbing it from her fingers. "Thanks."

He steps away, but there's something in his voice that somehow catches her attention, and Aurora turns her head. 

She glances over her shoulder, and peeks at his face. 

Harry is looking down again, chin pressed against his chest while he takes the end of his belt and puts it into the first front loop of his beige pants. His movements are casual, but he's holding back a smile, and Aurora can tell his mind is working on something.

Something silly, to be more specific. 

She curls her mouth up, then raises her left eyebrow. "What?"

Harry tugs his belt, threading it through the second loop. 

"What?" he repeats, and his mouth finally turns into a grin. 

She turns her body towards him, then places one hand on her waist and the other spread open on the table, holding up her weight. "C'mon, out with it."

Harry laughs, slightly bending his knees and throwing his head back. "I didn't even say a word!"

"Well, you didn't have to!" She rolls her eyes and chuckles, backing away from the table to put both hands on her hips. "I can see you're thinking something."

He shakes his head, looking down and threading his belt through the next loop. 

"Harry…"

He peeks at her through the corner of his eyes, then focuses back on his belt. 

"You're aware you can leave me unattended, right?" he asks, keeping a bright smile on his face and the light tone on his voice.

"What?"

"I mean I don't mind." He shrugs, eyes still on his current task. "Gotta admit it's kinda cute to see you like this." 

"I don't—"

"My favorite part was probably when you cleaned up the table."

"I—" Aurora closes her mouth, and exhales through her nose. "You put your feet there, Harry."

"I did, yeah. And you cleaned it up."

"Well, someone has to clean up your mess, don't you think?"

Harry glances at her, and smirks as mischievous and suggestive as he can be. "Oh, I always clean up my mess, love, don't worry about it."

He winks, and Aurora gasps. 

"Oh my God!"

She turns to face the table, feelings her cheeks getting warm. 

Harry laughs, though, so she steps closer to his side and nudges him with her elbow. 

"Shut up."

"'Kay mum."

"Ughhh." She rolls her eyes, then shuts them tightly and takes a deep breath in. "You're so annoying." 

Harry's laughter only grows louder, and Aurora shakes her head, blinking her eyes open again. 

It only takes him a moment to calm down, but the smile is still obvious in his voice when he speaks again. 

"I know. I'm just teasing you, tho. I'll stop now. I promise."

Aurora snorts. "Yeah, right." 

She believes his words as much as she believes Noah when he promises he will eat his entire dinner if he gets to eat dessert first. 

The thought brings a smile to her face, and she bites her lip to hold it back. 

Peeking inside the tray one more time, she finds several rings, a bracelet, a watch, and three necklaces. Her mouth twitches, and her chest trembles with amusement — no wonder why Harry took so much longer than her to get through security.

She pulls the string of her necklace from the tray, takes each side to the back of her neck and quickly clasps it back to its everyday place. Next, she grabs her watch, and puts it on just as fast around her wrist. 

"Well,"  she starts, then looks at him. 

Harry is, once again, deeply focused on his task — his chin touches his chest, his eyebrows are pulled together, and he's biting his bottom lip. 

"All yours now," she adds. 

Harry peeps at her through the corner of his eyes, his hands still attached to his belt as he finally reaches the last loop. He darts his vision to the tray, then back at her, scanning her chest, her wrist, and her hands. "You sure? All of it?"

"Mhmm."

A group of people walks to their table, and Aurora takes a step aside to give them more room.

"Ok." He buckles his belt, then fixes his shirt. "We can go, then."

"Oh. I didn't mean to rush you."

He smiles, putting one hand inside the tray and carelessly collecting everything that's left inside. 

"You didn't." He closes his hand into a fist, then shoves everything inside of his pocket. "It's just getting crowded here. C'mon."

"Hey, was my joke inappropriate?"

Past security and turning right, the hallway is significantly less hectic than any other area Aurora has walked through in the last hour or so. 

It is probably one of the brightest, too. 

"Hm?" she asks, tilting her head to give Harry her full attention. "Sorry, what joke?"

"About… Y'know, cleaning up my mess."

"Ohhh." Aurora laughs, then waves him off. "Please, it's nothing any of you guys haven't joked about before." 

"I know, but… Things are different now, aren't they? Don't want to make you uncomfortable, or, well, don't want to be disrespectful to your hus—"

"You're fine," she says, cutting him off before she'll be forced to either correct him or say nothing, implicitly letting him believe there's still a husband in her life. "Don't worry about it. Let's stop here so you can put your rings back on, yeah?"

She points to one side of the hallway, and walks in front of him to guide the way. It only takes her a few steps, then she places her bag by her feet and turns around. 

When she looks at him, she finds him frowning. 

Frowning and frozen on the spot. 

"Harry, hey!" She raises one hand and wiggles her fingers. "C'mon. I'll help you."

Harry's face softens. He shakes his head, then walks towards her while putting his hand inside of his pocket. 

Leaning against the white wall, Aurora watches him come to a stop right in front of her, then drop all of his jewelry on top of her spread open palm.

"Thank you," he murmurs. 

She finds his sight again, and a smile blooms across her face. "Sure, no problem."

His lips curve into a smile, too, and he looks down. He shakes his head and pulls his hair back, then turns his attention back to the items on Aurora's palms. He seems meticulous about which ring goes where, fiddling with them and hunting for specific ones. Eventually, he grabs three at once, and puts them on his pinky, middle and index left fingers. 

Aurora raises her chin and rests the back of her head against the wall, comfortably watching his relaxed face as he towers over her. 

From what she remembers, jewelry was never Harry's thing. Long hair and skinny jeans? One hundred percent. But the necklaces, the rings, and the bracelets? Those were things she'd no idea he'd be into. Or maybe not to the point of making them part of his casual look to the airport.  

"So," she teases, easing her dry lips with her tongue then forcing her voice to sound exactly like she imagines a reporter would sound like, "Harry, would you say you enjoy wearing rings?" 

Harry darts his eyes to her, and the expression on his face never falters, holding a serious and unamused demeanor as he moves his lips to say, "Bloody hate them."

She presses her lips together, but then she snorts, taking her free hand to cover her mouth. 

Harry shakes his head and grins, changing hands and catching two more rings to put on his right fingers. 

"Why? What's wrong with my rings?" 

She sighs and shrugs, calming down from her brief moment of foolish, silly laughter. 

"Nothing. 'M just teasing you."

He places the last two, and pulls the two golden strings from her palm. 

"Hmm…" Harry nods. He fixes his eyes on the jewelry and frowns, eying the many tiny knots that had formed along the necklaces. "Great, then. Glad you're having fun at my expense."

Aurora drops her jaw.

"You were making fun of me two minutes ago!"

Harry chuckles, although he's distracted by his attempt to untangle his necklaces. "Guess I was, huh."

He shakes his head, and Aurora steps away from the wall, getting closer to him.

"Which wrist do you wear this one?" she asks, lifting her hand and his bracelet.

"Left—I mean, right," he answers, and although they don't look at each other's faces, they both smile at the same time. 

Harry remains focused on the knotted strings between his fingers, but stops moving when Aurora curls one hand around his right wrist and pulls it closer to her face. In one quick movement, she clasps the item around it, then taps his hand twice. 

"All done. Now gimme that." 

She snatches the necklaces from him, and observes carefully before undoing the mess. One of the golden strings is longer than hers, but they're both just as delicate, and instead of a disk, one holds a cross pendant, and the other a tiny, thin tag. She bites her lip and patiently fiddles with the pieces of jewelry, taking her time to unwrap the tiny knots.

Things are quiet. Time ticks without a hurry. And after a minute, or maybe two, or three, she grins proudly, and lifts her chin to look at him.

"Look!" she says, even though she doesn't have to — Harry's already looking at her, already watching her. "I've done it!"

He blinks a couple of times, then nods, slowly mimicking her smile and her excitement. "Y—You did, yeah! Thanks."

"You're welcome." She grabs the longest string, picking each side with one hand, and takes a step closer to him. "I find untangling necklaces weirdly therapeutic." 

Harry widens his eyes. "What are you doing?!" 

Aurora rolls her eyes, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm not gonna kiss you, don't worry."

"Right. No, yeah, I know that." He chuckles, too. "Of course." 

She stops moving and tilts her head, then raises her hands. "I mean, can I?"

"Wha—" Harry takes a step back. "Kiss me?!"

"Harry!" Aurora shrieks, also taking a step back and away from him. "Oh my God, no!"

She looks at him for a moment, taking in his bulged eyes and raised eyebrows. He looks mortified, and there's so much going on at once that she can't help but burst into laughter — at the misunderstanding, at the look of his face, but also at the terror in his voice. 

She turns away from him, throwing her head back as laughter breaches from her chest. 

"This is… I can't…"

"Sorry," Harry says, "I just—"

Aurora shakes her head, feeling warmth radiating from her chest throughout her entire body. 

"Oh my… Oh my God." She places one hand on her stomach and brings the other to her face, fanning herself while taking a deep breath in through her nose. "You should've… You should've seen your face… Oh God… Harry… You panicked so hard, I just…"

She wipes a tear from under her eye, and takes another deep breath in, working to calm herself down.

"I never… I never thought the idea of kissing me could… Could be that terrifying for someone. Oh God."

Harry sighs. "Auri…"

She turns around, and looks at him with the biggest smile on her face, her body still shaking from laughing. 

Harry isn't happy, though. Or at least he doesn't seem to be. He's narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. His lips are pressed into a hard line, and his forehead is puckered. 

And just like that, Aurora's laughter fades away. 

Shit. 

She's too familiar with that dynamic, so she clears her throat and shakes her head. 

"I'm sorry. I—I know it wasn't funny. I just… I think I haven't laughed this hard in a really long time, so I just… I got carried away, I guess. I'm sorry. But I shouldn't—Sorry." 

"Listen, I didn't—"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." 

Actually, Aurora doesn't know. Of course she doesn't know. She has absolutely no idea what he was about to say, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She's been there before. And she's been there before so many times that her mind and body don't even know how to react any other way. How not to anticipate the humiliation and shame that is about to follow. How not to completely shut off. 

Thankfully, Harry seems to get it, because he nods, grabbing his necklaces from her hand and putting them back inside of his pocket. 

And this time, Aurora doesn't say anything about it, grabbing her bag from the floor and feeling ready to move on.

"Do you mind if we take a look around some of the shops?" Aurora asks, pointing around the World Duty Free and breaking the silence that settled between them for the past few minutes. 

Harry moves slowly next to her, keeping his hands inside of his pockets. "'Course not."

"Thanks." She makes sure to curve her mouth into a smile, then stops at the first shop to take a look at the makeup. 

Things are quiet, but Harry stands right behind her all the time, keeping her company while she brings a lipstick closer to her face to check the color shade, and then following her steps when she moves to a different shelf. 

"Hey," Aurora says, looking over her shoulder, "what's your cologne?"

"Hm..." He scratches his jaw and shrugs. "Depends on the day, I guess."

She nods, then turns to face some nail polish, aiming for the brightest options. 

It's been a while since she's done her nails. She used to love looking at her hands and seeing them colorful and filled with rings, it used to make her feel beautiful and delicate. Feminine. 

Zack used to love it as well, though, and to be honest at some point she stopped doing a lot of things Zack liked. Just because.

"Which one are you wearing today, then?"

"Why?" 

She shrugs. His voice is right behind her, but Aurora doesn't turn around to look at him. 

"'Cause you smell really nice." 

Maybe she could do her nails in Italy… Maybe one of the girls brought something with them. 

Or maybe she could get something herself…

The orange shades look nice…

She sighs, and steps away from the shelf. 

She can't. She shouldn't spend her money like that. She needs to be more careful now, especially since she spent a lot of unplanned money on that trip to Italy. 

She turns her head, wiggling her eyebrows at him. "So…?" 

Harry clears his throat. "Uh… Well… It's Guerlain."

Aurora twirls, holding her bag close to her body as her hair and dress follow her brisk movement.

"Cool! Let's find it, then." 

She walks away, and Harry's low chuckle echoes behind her. 

Although she can't see him, she feels his presence all the time, following her pace.

"What for?" he asks. 

"I don't know." She shrugs, looking from one side to the other. Scanning all the tiny duty-free shops. "I'm bored, I'm tired… Oh! There it is!" 

Her pace quickens, and so does Harry's.

Aurora only stops when she's in front of the Guerlain shelves, and then she turns around, staring at him with a smile on her face and pointing her arm to the many colognes displayed behind her. 

"Which one is yours?"

He clears his throat, and— 

Wait, is he blushing? 

Aurora purses her lips, holding herself back from laughing.

"It's L'Homme Idéal Extrême."

"Hmmm." She wiggles her eyebrows, and pulls one corner of her mouth up in a smirk. "Sounds sexy…" 

"Jesus Christ," Harry grunts, hiding his face behind both of his hands and shaking his head. 

Aurora laughs at his reaction, tapping his shoulder twice before turning on her feet and looking for his cologne. 

"What happened to you in the States, huh?" She leans down, squinting to read the names. "Never thought I would see Harry Styles getting all shy in front of me."

It takes him a moment to answer, but eventually he mumbles, "I've always been shy in front of you."

Aurora pauses for a moment, replaying his words in her mind. Images of them hanging out together pop up immediately — at the pub, at someone's apartment, after class, over the weekend. His cheeky glances, touchy hands and bold comments are always present, one way or another. He always craved attention, and people had no problem granting his wishes. 

It never bothered her, because he was young and had just joined university, but it certainly didn't paint him as a shy and reserved person. 

A snort leaves her mouth. "Yeah, right." 

She stands, and puts her hands on her waist. "What was the sexy name again?"

"L'Homme—" He sighs. "It's this one."

Aurora turns around, only to find Harry standing in the same place they were a minute ago. The shelf next to him is filled with bottles of the same cologne. Apparently, his cologne.

She gasps. 

"Harry!" She walks towards him, and Harry shakes his head in soft laughter, scratching the back of his neck. "I was standing right next to it and you didn't tell me!"

"It's just a very common cologne, Auri." He laughs, again. It sounds kind of shaky, though, and she frowns, stopping on her track. "I don't… Why are we looking for it?"

Uh… 

Well… To be honest… She doesn't have an answer for that. 

She doesn't know why they're looking for it. She is just joking. She just wanted to pass the time because she is exhausted, and because the longer she spends around people, the more afraid she is of falling apart at any moment. She thought maybe she could try it on, see if his cologne would smell as well on her skin as it smelled on his… Who knows… She was just… She wasn't thinking, okay? She was just being her stupid self.

Harry, on the other hand, isn't just messing around. Harry looks actually nervous. 

Her jokes are making him nervous. 

She is making him uncomfortable. 

In the middle of an airport, filled with people. 

Shit.

And she's done it twice now. 

First with the necklace… Now with the cologne… 

Fuck.

How many more times till he reaches his breaking point? 

How many more times till she finally pushes him through the edge? 

How many more times till she puts him in a position where he won't be able to stop himself from snapping at her?

Her hands shake, and her stomach quivers. 

"Yeah, no, I mean…" She shakes her head and smiles at him, closing her hands into fists and placing them behind her back. "You're right. Sorry. I—I'm really sorry. Hm… I think I… I should get a coffee."

Harry flinches his head back. "Wait  what?"

"Coffee. It'll keep me awake." She walks around him, and Harry follows her movements. 

"Auri, but what… Hey! What about my cologne?"

She waves it off. "Yeah, I know. I was just being annoying." 

She moves towards the exit of the duty-free, where all the departure gates are, and another yawn breaks through her lips. 

"Yep." She chuckles. "Definitely need some coffee."

"Auri," Harry calls, catching up with her. "Hey, stop. C'mon. Something just happened."

"What do you mean?" Aurora laughs. 

She flexes her fingers, curling and uncurling them. Her eyes wander around the airport, looking for a coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

A coffee shop. 

She needs a coffee shop. She needs to get herself together. She needs to busy herself with something before she does something silly and stupid again. 

"I… I don't know. Why did you change your mind?"

Harry walks next to her, and she offers him a smile. 

"About what?"

"What do you mean about what? About my cologne, Auri!"

Aurora flinches.

"Sorry. Yeah, no, right. The cologne. Yeah. I just… I made you uncomfortable and I was being childish. Sorry."

"I wasn't uncomfortable, Auri, I just—"

"I know."

"Auri, no, listen—" 

"Harry." She turns around and smiles, then places one hand on his elbow. "It's fine. You don't need to explain yourself. I just… I really, really need a coffee right now. I haven't slept all night, so… Yeah. I'd just like to get a coffee. If you don't mind."

She lets go of his elbow, and Harry sighs. 

"Ok, yeah. Let's get you some coffee, then."

They walk forward, side to side, and Harry speaks again. 

"Do you still drink caramel coffee?"

Aurora widens her eyes. 

"Wow… That's back from… Well, a long time ago."

It's small, and kind of timid, but Harry smiles, and then shrugs. "Used to get you one at least once a week, didn't I?"

"You did, yeah." She smiles back at him and nods, then faces forward again. There's a coffee shop only three stores ahead, and it seems to be already open. Thank God. "To be honest I can't remember the last time I had one. I drink plain black coffee now."

Harry nods, and they both walk in silence, side by side — always side by side.

It shouldn't be uncomfortable, but Aurora's chest is heavy, and her mind seems foggy. 

Truth be told, she thought she would have more time before she started disappointing her friends, before letting them know how much she's changed and how uninteresting she's become.

Meeting Harry at the airport got in between her plans, though. And she could feel herself breaking little by little each second. Having to face the memories of someone she used to be, someone she liked to be, but also someone she isn't anymore. And someone she can't be anymore. 

Looking at her feet, she bites the inside of her lip. She was acting like a child at the duty-free, wasn't she? Jumping around, excited about his cologne… 

God. She hasn't even left the country yet, and she's already ruining things. 

She needs to control herself. 

She isn't a teenager anymore. She can't embarrass him. She doesn't want to embarrass him. 

"Do you want something to eat?" Harry asks, and she stops walking.

They're in front of the coffee shop, but Aurora wouldn't have realized if it weren't for him.

She shakes her head. "No, I'll just get myself a coffee."

"Let me get it for you."

What?

She takes a step back. "Absolutely not."

Harry's smile falters, but he doesn't give up. "C'mon… Like the old times! Yeah?"

"No, Harry. I mean, thanks, but no. I can pay for mine."

"I know you can pay for yours, I don't—"

"Please." She shakes her head and looks down to the floor. "It's just a silly coffee. I can get it for me. Okay?"

Harry frowns. 

"Ok? Yeah." 

Aurora nods, looks at the shop, then back to the floor. "Are you getting anything?"

"No, I'll just wait here."

"Okay," she whispers, forcing a smile before turning around and walking away.

It's crazy to see how much Harry has changed.

That's all Aurora can think about while she stands in line and watches him type on his phone. 

He's still outside, waiting for her, and seems deeply engaged with his conversation, frowning while his fingers move rapidly. 

No more black skinny jeans, no more vintage t-shirts or Chelsea boots. No more curls that are longer than her own hair. No more thin shoulders nor skinny arms. 

His baggy pants — wide legged, high-waisted — are beige, his cute shoes are yellow, and she still can't get over the flamingo shirt he's wearing.

He looks older, too. Brooding features, chiseled cheekbones, growing stubble. His face is perfectly carved, his traces have hardened, and there is something very manly about the way he stands there, focusing on typing on his phone. 

It isn't just his physical appearance, though. He acts like a grown-up, too. There's something about the way he simply exists that screams how much he's changed. You would never tell the man standing outside is the same boy who used to make stupid bets with his roommates from uni. But it's clear that Harry isn't a boy anymore, and that he's turned into a man.

And Aurora wasn't prepared to deal with that. 

Aurora lowers her chin and rubs her eyes.

She is being ridiculous. 

Why would she need to be prepared for that? 

Of course Harry grew up! How old is he now, anyway? 29? 30? Of course he isn't the same anymore. 

She should focus on how nice it is to see him again, not about stupid things. 

Who would've thought she would actually meet him at the airport? Who would've thought they'd end up sharing the flight? Standing in line with him, hopefully getting some seats next to each other… She should appreciate having a friend by her side. That's all. 

Aurora can't remember why he stopped hanging out with the group, though, and now she can't stop thinking about it. She has absolutely no idea about anything that could be going on with his life. It was as if Harry had grown more and more distant with time, until he wasn't there at all.

She's still pretty sure the last time she saw him was at her and Zack's wedding. She remembers someone telling her he'd moved to the United States, but why wasn't she at his graduation? It didn't make sense. Especially considering how, around a year later, he was kind enough to send them a basket when Noah was born.

They weren't the closest friends, and they were in very different stages of their lives when they met, sure, but they were part of the same group, and she used to have a soft spot for him. Just like she used to have a soft spot for Niall. 

Usually, when they were all at the pub, everyone would leave and the three of them would stay behind, chatting and laughing until Aurora felt her lids closing by themselves and they would walk her home. They both used to make her laugh all the time, and she actually loved spending those moments with them. 

Until she met Zack, of course, and then she started spending her nights with him. 

Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn't about him. Maybe she had grown more and more distant, until she wasn't around anymore. At all.

She knows it's something she's done with everyone else, at least. The girls would knock on her door from time to time, though, and she couldn't run from everyone whilst living in the same city, but Harry flying overseas was a different situation. So it makes sense they didn't keep up with their friendship. 

It makes sense, but it still bothers her. 

It bothers her because she forgot how easy, and fun, and electrifying it was to be around him. She forgot how affectionate, attentive, kind, and friendly he was. She forgot how spontaneous and cheerful she used to be with him. She forgot how much she enjoyed his carefree and easygoing way of looking at life. She forgot… 

Well, to be honest, it's like she just forgot about him. 

And how could she forget about him?

Harry used to be such a great friend. 

Just like Niall. 

But somehow different. 

Because there's something about the way Harry looks at her that she never found in Niall's eyes. It has something to do with Harry's curiosity, probably. How much he cares about details. How he likes to know more about people, about things, about everything. 

"Next?" the lady behind the counter shouts.

Aurora shakes her head, and darts her eyes away from Harry. 

She has no idea how much time she just spent staring at him. She didn't even notice she was doing it, to be honest. And she can only hope he didn't notice, as well.

The woman behind her taps her shoulder.

"That's you, miss," she says. 

Aurora widens her eyes and steps forward.  "Oh, yes, sorry… Hi!" 

Their flight is delayed. 

Aurora laughs, and rubs her fingers on her forehead. 

"And I was worried I'd be late," she murmurs.

They've been hanging out by their gate for at least half an hour now. Harry sits next to her, their bags placed together on his opposite side. He's leaning back comfortably, arms crossed on top of his abdomen and legs spread open in front of him. 

He nudges her arm with his elbow, then asks, "What was that?"

She shakes her head and waves him off with one hand, then double taps her phone with the other, lighting up the screen. 

It's 6:30. 

Noah should be waking up by now. Or at least Zack should be trying to wake him up. 

She unlocks her phone and opens up the app to text him. She takes a deep breath in, and her fingers hover the screen. She needs to be careful with her words, because she doesn't want him to think she doesn't trust him with Noah. That would be unfair with him. And it's not even about that. Of course it's not! She knows Noah's safe with his dad. She swears she never questioned him as a father. Whatever happened between them as a couple would never change the fact that Zack loves Noah to death. 

Aurora knows that. Really! The only reason why she wants to know how they're doing is because Noah has never woken up at his dad's new place, and because she knows what a long and emotional process it can be to wake him up. That's all. 

She bites her bottom lip, and types the same questions again and again, until she's happy with the way she's phrased them.

Hii! 

How are you guys doing?

How was Noah's first night over there? Did you guys have fun?

She sends the messages, and reads them over. And over, and over. 

That was good, wasn't it? She sounded friendly, right? She wasn't attacking him, right? He wouldn't be mad at her, right?

"I'll be right back," Harry says, getting up from his seat. He moves past her quickly, looking at his own hand and sliding his finger through the screen of his phone before taking it to his ear. "Hey… Yeah, I know… No, you listen to me…"

Harry doesn't sound happy — at all — and Aurora frowns. She watches him walk away, blending between people, then glances back to her phone.

No signs of Zack yet. Which is fine. Of course. It's not even been a minute. Actually, Aurora is usually so absorbed by Noah in the mornings that she doesn't check her phone until she drops him off at preschool. So it's fine. Really.

Hopefully he'll be able to make him have breakfast by 7:15, though. Otherwise they won't get there on time. Should she remind him of that? No, that's stupid. Zack is not stupid, and she always drives him insane for reminding him of the obvious little details. 

Maybe he won't even take him to preschool. Maybe he'll drive him over to his parents, instead. 

Or maybe she should just trust him. Maybe this would be the time he'd follow through with a promise he'd made.

Another yawn sneaks up on her. She slides down on her seat and rubs her eyes with the palms of her hands. 

Maybe she should accept Harry's offer and take a quick nap on his shoulder. She brushed the idea off minutes ago, but now she can't deny it sounds really tempting. 

God… How is she supposed to spend two days on a yacht? She's never been on one before. She also hasn't been around all her friends in a very long time… 

Is she going to be able to interact with them? Because if they're expecting her to act the same way she used to before getting married… Well, they'll be extremely disappointed.

The only thing about Aurora that'll resemble those old days are the clothes Maddie packed for her. 

Shit. Oh shit. Oh… Fuck! Her clothes. No, no, no. Shit! She is going to kill Madison. 

She can't wear all those clothes in front of Harry! There is no fucking way she'll walk in front of him in a bikini, or wearing those silk and backless dresses. There is absolutely no fucking way she's going to wear those tops that almost don't cover her breasts in front of him. 

Well, not just in front of him, of course…

She's thinking about Harry because he's the one with her right now, but she doesn't want to wear those clothes in front of anyone. Not just him. 

It isn't even about the people, really. It's about her body. A body that has changed a lot through the years. 

Oh, boy… She needs to sleep. She can't start spiraling about how unsexy she's been feeling for years. It's not the moment for that. It's not what the weekend is about. 

"Are you sleeping with your eyes open?" Harry's low and deep voice sounds right next to her ear, and Aurora jumps on her seat. 

Harry chuckles behind her, then makes his way around her seat. 

"Shit," she murmurs, taking her hand to her chest, but a shaky laugh still leaves her mouth. "You scared me."

He stops in front of her and furrows his brows, then tilts his head to the side and curves his mouth into a cheeky smile, narrowing his eyes to look at her. 

"What?" she asks. 

He doesn't move, though. 

And he also doesn't stop staring at her. 

Aurora shifts on her seat. 

But the staring still doesn't stop.

"Harry!" She chuckles, and looks away. 

And he still doesn't even flinch.

Oh, c'mon! That's ridiculous. 

It's like going back to university, honestly. He used to do the same when they were younger, usually at a pub or a club. He would stare at her like that until she stumbled over her own words, or until she forgot what she was about to do. He thought it was hilarious, but she never understood the point of it. 

"Knock it off, will ya?" She crosses her arms on top of her chest and rolls her eyes. "I was just thinking."

Harry (finally) laughs, face lighting up again — with dimples and wrinkles and almost fully-closed eyes.

He moves his arm, and puts a paper cup in front of her face. 

Aurora snaps her brows together.

"Sorry, love, I was just testing my skills," he says.

Aurora flinches her head back.

Why is he shoving that cup in her eyes? 

And also… "What skills?"

He shrugs. "Y'know, to rile you up just by looking at you." 

Harry presses his lips together, as if he can't wait to burst out laughing.

And Aurora knows that face, because Noah does the exact same thing. The cheeky little monster loves to surprise her, but he can never hold up a lie. He gives out the entire thing just by looking at her with the same excitement on his face. 

They honestly look the same. Except Noah is only four, and Harry a thirty-year-old man.

"Ha ha," she mocks him, looking away from his silly face. "You and my four-year-old son would be great friends."

"Aww!" Harry takes his seat next to her, chuckling and throwing an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to his side. "I'm sure we would." 

She rolls her eyes. 

Harry squeezes her cheek against his chest, and she's so close to his body that she can smell the soap and cologne emanating from his skin. He smells good. Like a fresh shower. It's a nice combination, something both strong and smooth at the same time.

Shit.

She pulls away, and shakes her head. 

"It wasn't a compliment," she murmurs. 

Harry chuckles.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." He withdraws his arm from around her shoulders and takes it back to his side, then puts his hand back in front of her face. The one holding a paper cup. "Now, this is for you."

Aurora raises her eyebrows. 

"And what's this supposed to be, exactly?" 

"Just try it." 

She doesn't make any movement to acknowledge his request, but Harry also doesn't make any movement to hint he'll stop shoving the cup on her face. Eventually, she sighs, and her entire body falls. 

"Harry…" 

"Oh, c'mon! Just a sip. Amuse me, yeah?"

Aurora glances at his hand, then back at his face. She presses lips together, then finally uncrosses her arms and lifts one of them to reach the cup, curling her fingers around it. 

For the sake of not ruining her mood, she ignores the way he cheers, or how he grins proudly before leaning his back against the backrest of his seat. She simply clutches the cup between both hands, instead, and its warmth is a high contrast with her cold skin. She can't help but hum at the feeling, and then she shivers, even her chin trembling a little. 

A timid chuckle escapes from her mouth, and she closes her eyes. She brings the cup up to her face and puts her nose close to the lid, breathing the flavor in. 

And just like that, her chest tightens. 

The smell is unmistakable, a combination between coffee and caramel that she would recognize anywhere, anytime. 

She blinks her eyes open, and turns her head to look at him. 

Harry is watching her attentively, without any traces of amusement or playfulness surrounding him anymore.

Aurora blinks a couple of times, gathering enough strength to ask him, "Did you… Did you get me a caramel coffee?" 

He nods once, only one side of his mouth lifting up. "Yeah."

She looks back at the cup in her hands, and blinks again. 

"Why?"

"I don't know," he says, softly. "Intuition, maybe. I know you already had your black coffee, but I… I don't know. I felt like you needed it? I don't know. Actually, now that I'm thinking about it, it sounds stupid. Is that okay? Hope I didn't—"

She nods rapidly — unable to speak, but also desperate for him to stop explaining himself. 

And thankfully, he does. 

Aurora doesn't know what to say about it, though. She doesn't even know if there's anything she can say about it. 

His words don't sound stupid to her. That's for sure. The thing is that Harry doesn't understand the meaning his gesture actually holds, which scares her. He was able to pick up on something she needed when she wasn't brave enough to admit it to herself in the first place. And it was something so trivial… It was just coffee. Coffee.

"Noah does that sometimes, y'know," Aurora murmurs, looking at the mass of people in front of them. She hunches down a bit, not bothering by her awful posture as she comforts herself with the hot beverage in between her hands. Changing the subject is the only way she knows how to answer him right now, so she keeps going. "Sleeping with his eyes half open. It freaks me out."

Harry hums.

"There's a name for that, isn't it?" 

His voice is as soft and calm as before, and Aurora nods.

"Yeah, nocturnal something… I don't know. I always forget the stupid word." She rolls her eyes, and a humorless laugh leaves her mouth, making her body shake. "How do people even choose these names, huh? Why bother naming it if it's gonna be some ridiculous word no-one can even pronounce?"

"That's… Yeah, I don't know. You have a point, though."

"Sorry," she whispers, looking down at her lap. "Zack drives me insane using all those terms all the time. Makes me feel stupid."

Harry doesn't say anything, but for once the silence between them doesn't feel uncomfortable. 

She exhales the frustration out of her body, taking the cup to her mouth and sipping carefully in case it burns her tongue. 

The coffee touches her lips, and its sweetness automatically invades all of her senses. Her tongue tastes the caramel, and there's something bitter behind it, but it is mostly mellow and buttery. Just like she remembers it. 

And just like that, she's remembering all of it. 

She's flooded with memories from the comfort of home, and about the fun of living. Memories with simpleminded thoughts and unpretentious actions. 

She's back to a place where she isn't scared of speaking her mind all the time, where she isn't afraid of letting people down by her silly behavior, where she isn't terrified of her personality being the embarrassment of those around her. She's back to a place where she knows her friends and family like her for who she is, and where she's proud of her because of that. 

She's full of affectionate touches, sincere words, and genuine feelings.

There's confidence inside her, and an entire world she's willing to find out. 

And when she finally gulps down the simplest sip of caramel coffee, warmth takes over her throat. It reverberates through every inch of her body, and she shivers — her body filling with goosebumps as she closes her eyes to the paradoxical feeling. 

A moment passes, and the weight of a soft textured fabric lands on her back.

"Before you say anything," Harry's deep voice murmurs next to her, and she opens her eyes to look at him. "I'm not wearing it. And it's driving me insane seeing you so cold, so please just wear it."

Aurora glances at her shoulders, finding Harry's checked jacket covering her skin. It feels good, and it feels warm. And she actually doesn't mind it. At all. But there's something about the way Harry has just talked to her that flies directly into Aurora's heart. 

Maybe it's the softness of his voice. Or maybe how worried he sounded. Or maybe the fact that he seems to pay attention to her. Or maybe just because he acts as if he knows her so well. Even after so many years without talking to her. Or seeing her.

Or maybe it's just because she's already on edge because of the damn caramel coffee he bought especially for her.

She doesn't know exactly what it is, but something in his words triggers her into instantly tearing up. She can't help the overreaction, and before she can figure out a way to hide it, the evidence of her crying falls down her cheek, and she's taking a hand up to wipe it off her.

"Auri, hey…" 

Harry's hand lands on her back. The last push she needs to turn into an emotional wreck. A sob bursts out of her chest, and she covers her mouth. Oh my God. 

"Auri, love, I'm sorry… Did I… I can get the jacket back, I didn't—"

She shakes her head and puts the coffee between her thighs, then takes both hands up to her face. She uses her palms to wipe down the tears from her cheeks, and a long and shaky sigh leaves her mouth. 

Harry takes the cup from between her legs, putting it down on the floor before shifting closer to her. His knees bump into the side of her thigh, and the hand that isn't on her back brushes softly her jaw, getting rid of another tear.

"I'm… I'm sorry," she whispers. "You're fine. You didn't… You didn't do anything wrong."

The last thing she wants is for him to see her like that. They haven't seen each other for so long… She doesn't want to welcome him back to her life with tears and drama. She also doesn't want him to feel guilty about something that has nothing to do with him. 

"Ok…" He sounds wary, and while one hand rubs circles on her back, the other grabs her hand. "What's going on, tho? What can I do to help?" 

Once again, Aurora shakes her head. "I'm… I'm fine. I think I'm just… I'm  just exhausted from not sleeping last night."

It isn't a lie, but it also isn't the truth. She doesn't want to admit how lonely she constantly feels, because she wants to learn how to be alone. It doesn't make sense to ask for help when all she wants is to learn how to not need help.

"Why didn't you sleep?" 

"It's nothing. Really… Don't worry about me, I'm just being dramatic right now."

He strokes his thumb up and down on the back of her hand, and Aurora sighs, leaning into the warmth of his jacket. 

Warmth. Apparently that's all she craves now. 

"Of course I worry about you, Auri. And I'm here if you need anything, ok?" 

She nods, but his care for her brings another wave of tears, and she hides behind one hand while the other holds tightly onto him. 

"C'mere," he murmurs, dragging the hand on her back to her shoulder and pulling her to his chest. 

She can't believe the amount of times she's been hugged by him in merely a couple of hours, but she doesn't fight him. In fact, she does quite the opposite: she snuggles into him and cries quietly. And when Harry squeezes her shoulders, she squeezes his fingers in response. 

"Talk to me, love, please. What's going on?"

She sniffs. "Nothing…"

He rubs her arm, softly and tenderly, then carefully adds, "I don't wanna force you, but I can tell something's up and I'm worried about you."

Aurora shakes her head, feeling the desperation in her body slip out of her mouth as she cries to him. "Please don't... I don't want… I don't wanna worry you, ok? I really don't. I don't want to bother you. I'm just… Overreacting. I'll be fine. I'll be—"

"Auri, that's not—"

"Yes. Yes it is. It's just—"

"Stop doing that," he says, squeezing her shoulder. "You keep shutting me off every time I try to explain myself."

"Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, I swear. I'm sorry—"

"Auri—

"—I'm so sorry—"

"—It's okay—"

"—I really am—"

"Auri, hey!" He pulls back, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and forcing her to look at him. His eyes are warm and caring as he stares inside hers, but there's a frown all over his face that screams something different. Annoyance, perhaps? Or maybe… Frustration? "Listen to me. It's fine, ok? There's no need for you to apologize. It's fine."

She squeezes her eyes shut, shaking her head. "No…"

"Yes, it's fine, Auri."

"It's not—"

"Yes—" 

"No!" Aurora opens her eyes, but tears quickly blurry her sight. She blinks, and before she knows it, she's fully sobbing and crying again. "It's not fine! Ok?! I'm not… I'm not fine, Harry. I'm not! I'm falling apart and I just… It's like I can't stop… And I just… I hate it, ok? I really do… I keep letting everyone down. And I… Fuck… I have no idea how… How am I supposed to spend the entire weekend…. The entire weekend pretending my life isn't a mess right now? I just… I can't… I can't pretend… I'm not… I can't…"

There's only a beat of silence before Harry pulls her into his chest again, squeezing her shoulders while he takes a long, deep, and heavy breath in. Then exhales loudly through his nose. 

"I don't know what's going on with your life right now," he says softly, resting his chin on the top of her head and closing his eyes while she sobs into his chest. "And I know I haven't been around, but I'm here for you, ok?" 

And just like before, Aurora melts into him. She hugs his waist, and leans against his body despite the uncomfortable and public position they're in. Crying all the tears she's been holding in so far. Silently sharing with him all the hurt, the doubts, and the insecurities she's been feeling. All the blaming, the questioning, and the yelling she's been hiding. Letting him absorb the wreck she is turned into after six years of marriage. All the failures. All the mistakes. All the countless "should've done better", and also "should've tried harder".  She lets it all out. With no hold backs, nor regrets.

"And you don't have to pretend, Auri," he adds. "At least not to me. Not even a little bit. Never… Why would you even pretend, huh? I can't be there for you if you don't let me know your life's a mess, and I want to be there for you. You know I do, yeah?"

Aurora can't answer him, not when her body's turning everything inside her into tears and sobbing, but he doesn't seem to be waiting for any words. Nor reactions. He rubs her back gently, while still holding her tightly, and then just keeps talking. 

"Besides, I don't expect anything from you, so—I mean, wait… That's not—Shit. That didn't sound good."

And despite everything, despite all the pain and all the tears and all the fears, a soft and low chuckle escapes from Aurora's chest. 

"That came out wrong… It's not—It's not what I wanted to say. Because of course I expect things from you, like… You're brilliant. You're amazing. You can do amazing things if you want to, ok? I know you can. What I meant is that—That there's no pressure, y'know? That's all. And that no matter what you do or what you say, nothing will change... I mean, I haven't been around, but you don't have to pretend things are good if they aren't, y'know? I'll be your friend even if… I don't know… Even if everything's falling apart… Actually, I want to be there especially when everything's falling apart, ok? So yeah, I just—Jesus Christ." He sighs. "Fuck. Auri please tell me you know what I'm trying to say here because I'm just freaking myself out right now."

Aurora's chuckle turns into laughter, and she nods against his chest, taking one hand up to her face to wipe off the last few tears. 

"I do, yes." She clears her throat, trying to get rid of some of the scratchiness. "Relax. I got it from the beginning." 

Harry smiles and sighs again, squeezing her shoulders. "Could've said something, huh? Stop me there. Save me the embarrassment, maybe?"

"You said I kept cutting you off when you tried to explain yourself, so…" Aurora shrugs. 

"Ohh, I see. Okay." Harry laughs. "We should work on your timing, then. Smartass."

She smiles, and sniffs. "My timing's perfect. It was cute, and I was having fun."

"Of course you were."

Although she can't see him, the smile is obvious in his voice, and she sighs. A long and heavy sigh. One that's strong enough to relax her entire body, and that makes her close her eyes and drop her shoulders. 

"Thank you," she murmurs, still into his chest.

"Yeah," he murmurs back. "Anytime, love." 

There's a pause between them. And then Harry speaks again.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, to be honest… At least not right now."

"Ok…" 

Another pause, and then… 

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

She takes a deep, long breath in, then exhales while snuggling into his chest.

"Can we just… Stay like this for another minute? Just… Y'know… In silence?"

"Hm… So you want me to shut up, is that it?"

Aurora chuckles. 

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that, but…"

Harry chuckles, too. 

"'S fine. I don't mind. We can stay like this for as long as you want."

And so they do. 

They hug for a while. In silence. A tight embrace that's simple, but that's also intense enough to let her know that he's there for her. 

Aurora can't remember the last time she's been held like this, with honest tenderness and affection. The kind of hug that she doesn't question, and that comes naturally. That feels natural. 

"This was supposed to be a fun weekend," she murmurs, curling a little bit more into him and closing her eyes to avoid facing the world. "Can't believe I'm seeing you for the first time in years and already bringing all this drama to you."

Harry chuckles lightly. 

"Don't be silly, ok? We've been over this already… We're friends and this is what friends are for." He kisses the top of her head, and then rests his cheek against the same place. "Besides, we didn't leave London yet. We can still have plenty of fun."

Aurora sighs. "God. I really need to have some fun. I miss having fun."

"I'll make sure you get more than some."

He squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora smiles.

Still with her eyes closed, and pressing her ear against his chest, she listens to his heartbeat, and to the way he breathes. He isn't calm, but he is steady, and somehow comfortable. So she focuses on him, and only him. As if mimicking his rhythm, or syncing with his pace, could make everything in her life feel better. 

Harry sighs against her, and when the thumping inside him gets faster, she pulls one arm from around his waist to rest her hand on the left side of his chest. She spreads her fingers open where his heart is, and breathes in and out slowly, hoping to calm him down again. 

He takes one hand to her neck, sliding it to the back of her head and tangling his fingers with her hair. 

As he scratches her scalp, Aurora can feel every muscle of her body fully relaxing. It's soothing. And it's safe. There's no other place she would rather be right now, and she's convinced that, as long as she's holding him and he's holding her, she'll finally relax and rest like she hasn't been able to in so long. 

"Have you always been such a great hugger?" she asks, her voice as soft and as slow as her body feels.

Harry clears his throat, then murmurs, "I don't know." 

Aurora hums. 

Another moment passes, until she breaks the silence again.

"I'm sorry for being a shitty friend."

"You're not a shitty friend."

"But I am, tho. I have no idea what's going on with your life… It's been so long and I… I never reached out."

Harry sighs, and shifts on his seat. 

Aurora follows his movements, making sure the hug doesn't end even when he seems to be pulling away. 

He doesn't, though — pull away. He simply leans back on his seat, pulling her along with him. And because she's still comfortable against his chest, she doesn't see the way his face falls, how he presses his lips together in a hard line, or glares at random people passing by.

"It's fine," he eventually says. 

And she's so focused on her own past behavior, that she also doesn't notice the slight change in his voice.

"It's not, though."

"I never reached out either, did I? And I should have… I just… I should have." 

She fidgets with the fabric of his shirt, and although it takes her a moment to answer, the words fly easily out of her mouth. "I'm not sure if it would've made any difference, to be honest… I've pushed everyone away, would've done the same to you." 

"There's no fucking way I would've let you."

"It wouldn't be up to you, tho."

A ding-ding-dong blares from the speakers in the lounge area. 

"Attention passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Passengers on Ryanair flight 1832 to Naples, we are now ready for boarding at gate 56. Boarding is for business class and passengers with…"

The attendant's voice fades as Aurora stops paying attention to it. She blinks her eyes open and, against her wishes, pulls away from Harry's arms.

"Finally," she breathes out.

When she looks at him, she finds nothing but honesty and affection inside his eyes, and it's enough to make her heart skip a beat. 

She curves her lips into a smile, then brings her hands up to wipe the dry tears from her cheeks. "Thank you."

Harry smiles, too. "You've said that already."

"I know." She nods, dropping her hands back to her lap. "I just… Thank you, really. For now and… And for the coffee. Even though I forgot to drink it."

He takes one hand to her face, and puts some of her hair behind her ear.

"We'll have time for another one," he says, then stares into her eyes again. "Yeah?"

"Yeah…" She gulps down, captivated by his gaze. "I think… I think it'd be nice if we could catch up, right? I mean, there's so much about you that I don't know…" 

Harry smiles, although it doesn't reach his eyes. 

"There isn't anything crazy to know about me."

Aurora furrows her brows. 

"Well I don't need crazy information, Harry," she scoffs, making sure the tone of her voice is carrying some playfulness while she rolls her eyes. "I just wanna know what's up with your life… Where do you live? Do you have any dogs, or cats? Where do you work? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you have any kids? Are you married? I don't know…"

Harry stares blankly at her for a moment, then looks away, reaching for their bags. 

"Those are too many questions, love."

Aurora shrugs. 

"Well, yeah…" She leans down and picks up her coffee. The cup feels cold, and although she's sad she didn't get to drink it, she wouldn't change anything about what happened in the last… Well, however long it's been since they got here. "I know. I'm curious. That's why I said it'd be nice to catch up."

She stands up and rearranges Harry's jacket, putting it on properly so it doesn't fall from her shoulders, then waits while he stands as well, picking their bags from the seat next to his.

"Ok, yeah. Sure. We can catch up." 

"Wow." She snorts and widens her eyes. "Calm down, now. Don't sound sooo excited, please."

Harry laughs. He puts his own bag on his shoulder, and she takes hers from his hand. 

"I'd love for us to catch up, Auri. I really would."

"Okay…" She narrows her eyes at him, putting her bag on her shoulder and walking towards the line. "Are you hiding something from me?"

Harry follows her, grabbing his boarding pass and passport from the front pocket of his bag. "Why would I hide something from you?"

"I don't know…" She throws the coffee cup away, then adds, "Maybe you're working with the FBI. Or, maybe you're married to someone who works for the FBI. Ohhhhh," — she widens her eyes, looking at him while he leads their way to the gate — "or maybe, you're married to someone who's being investigated by the FBI!"

Harry chuckles through his nose. He sneaks his hands inside Aurora's bag, pulling her boarding pass and passport from it.

"There's no FBI involved, I promise," he says, handing her the items. 

"Hmmm…" She grabs her things from his hand, and nibbles her bottom lip before asking, "But you're married to someone?" 

"Nop." 

"Okay… Dating to someone?"

He shakes his head, and Aurora nods.

"Are relationships a touchy subject, maybe?"

Harry smirks, and that's more than enough to give Aurora an answer, but she still waits for him to say something. 

Anything.

"I broke up with someone not too long ago." He shrugs. "So I'm not in the mood for relationships right now, to be honest. And that includes talking about it." 

The line moves quickly, and they take a step forward. 

"Oh, sure. Yeah. I get it. Of course." Aurora nods. "I'm sorry, tho. Y'know, that it didn't work out."

He shrugs, and they walk again.

"'S fine." 

The shift in his behavior is loud and clear, and it bothers her. The idea of someone breaking Harry's heart deep enough for the pain to overshadow his excitement and dull the brightness of his smile doesn't feel right. So it bothers her. It really does. Whoever it was, he surely deserved someone much better. He surely deserves someone better.

A flight attendant welcomes them with a grin and a cheerful good morning. Aurora smiles back, and hands him her passport and boarding pass, then waits for him to return them. He wishes her a safe flight, and repeats the same process with Harry. 

Aurora waits for him in silence, and once they're both ready to walk through the airgate, she picks the conversation back on. 

"I'm sure you'll find someone, y'know? It won't be that hard. You're still young, and dating was never a problem for you, so…"

There's a pause, and then Harry snorts. "Dating was never a problem for me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Y'know… That's what you, Niall and Jayden used to do all the time, wasn't it? Dating and… Flirting and hooking up with everyone?"

Harry stops walking and turns to stare at her in silence, with widened eyes and flared nostrils. 

Aurora stops, too, biting her lip to hold back her amusement while waiting for him to say something. 

He doesn't, but he eventually laughs, throwing his head back and making her fully smile at him. He shakes his head, and starts walking again.

"Jeez, Auri, I'm so offended right now."

"Oh c'mon…" She chuckles, following his steps. "I meant it as a compliment, okay? Like… Girls were always into you, that's all."

"Not all girls, though."

"Fine." She shrugs. "Ninety-five percent of them, then."

He snorts again. "Ok."

"How old were you when we met? Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"Nineteen."

"Oh shit, really?"

"Yeah, it was my second year. Why?"

"Nothing. I think… For a moment I just forgot you're so much younger than me, that's all."

"C'mon, not so much, I'm almost thirty now."

"Well, yes, but I'm thirty-five."

"See? Same age."

She chuckles. "We're not the same age."

"Ok, but almost."

"Not even close, Harry."

"Oh c'mon! Then what are you now? Ancient? Should I call you grandma?"

She chuckles. "Well… I do feel ancient, to be honest."

He rolls his eyes. "This is ridiculous. You're just as young as I am."

She shakes her head. 

"Yeah, I mean, I know that… But I don't know… I mean, talking to you right now I don't feel like you're younger, y'know? Let alone that much. But also—"

"It's not that much."

"No, I know. But if you think about it, I already got married and I have a four-year-old at home, so like, I really am too old and—What?" Harry is frowning at her, and she tilts her head. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He shrugs, then faces forward, away from her. "I'm trying to decide if I should kick your ass right now or just throw you into the ocean later."

She gasps, but then she chuckles. "What? Whyyy?"

Harry raises his eyebrows at her. "I'm only five years younger than you, Auri. Five. It's not even a big deal."

She sighs.

The line in front of them moves, and they move forward as well. 

"Sorry. You're right. Like I said, it doesn't feel like it right now, but I think… I don't know. When you were 19 and I was 24 it was different, yeah? I mean, we were in different stages of our lives. I was meeting Zack and you were—" 

"Yes, I know. I was there, remember?" 

She swallows down, and nods. 

"Sorry," she repeats, much softer this time. 

Aurora walks in silence, staring at the plane at the end of the hallway. 

She pretends to ignore the way Harry keeps glancing at her, or how he rubs the back of his neck, or how he rolls his shoulders. She knows she bothered him, and the idea of causing a scene when they're about to get into a plane feels terrifying. She should've kept her mouth shut, that way she wouldn't have them put them in that situation. Again.

It's like she's been riding on a rollercoaster she never knew she would get into in the first place. Going through multiple sudden changes of speed and directions. Slowly climbing a steep slope and painfully anticipating the fall before she actually drops directly into the ground. Holding herself during the unexpected tight turns and sharp curves, and gasping for air at every inverted loop. Experiencing the ups and downs of gravity as she's weightless and happy at the top of the hill, then all of a sudden her own personality is pushing her back down to reality. And by the end of it, the back of her throat hurts, her stomach feels funny, and there's just heaviness all over her body. 

"Hey," Harry calls. 

He shifts his bag from one shoulder to the other and puts his arm around her, pulling her closer even though they're still walking. He kisses the top of her head, and keeps his lips there as he speaks. "'M sorry. Shouldn't have cut you off like that."

Aurora shrugs. "It's fine." 

"It's not. We were just joking and I… I took it personally, 'm sorry."

He kisses her head, again, and her lashes flutter. 

She knows he's sorry, but she doesn't know what to say to him. She knows how easy it is for her to forgive when she shouldn't, and how many times in the last six years she believed in empty apologies. 

So although she knows, she isn't sure she can trust herself. 

She hasn't been trusting herself for a while now. 

A new flight attendant welcomes them into the plane, and they both pull away from each other.

Aurora walks in front of Harry, and she does her best to smile genuinely at the cheerful woman that's wishing them a good morning and a good flight. 

She holds the strap of her bag tightly on her shoulder, and walks through the narrow carpeted aisle, focusing on the numbers and letters above the seats as if she's looking for specific ones. She pauses here and there for other passengers that are getting settled, and it's only past the emergency door that Harry speaks again.

"Should we sit here?" he asks. He's pointing to the opposite side where she's facing, so she turns around, finding three empty seats.  

"Okay." 

She nods, and tilts her chin up to check the space to put her bag. Harry is quicker, though, because he is already closing his fingers around the strap on her shoulder and pushing it away from her arm.

"I'll put our bags together, yeah?" 

She doesn't want to fight him about it, so she simply thanks him with the best smile she can offer and allows him to easily grab her duffel bag. 

She slides through the two empty seats to reach the one by the window, not waiting any longer to secure the seat belt and make herself comfortable. Once she's settled, she clasps her hands together, and takes a deep breath in. Her chin trembles, and she looks down, biting the inside of her cheek. She doesn't want to cry again. She really doesn't want to cry again.

Also, she needs to sleep. She must get some sleep. There is absolutely no way she is going to handle spending the entire day awake, and if she doesn't sleep now, she'll only get an opportunity again at the yacht — meaning she won't get to spend any time with her friends. 

Harry sits next to her and puts his own belt on, then turns off his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Aurora doesn't look at him, but he turns sideways anyway, leaning his shoulder on the back of the seat and blocking them from any possible curious eyes. 

He grabs one of her hands from her lap and takes her fingers to his mouth, placing a long kiss to her knuckles before sighing. 

"Auri, love," his voice is soft, and a whisper for only them to hear, "I really am sorry." 

She nods, taking her free hand to wipe a tear before it could roll down her cheek.  

Shit.

"Please, don't cry."

"Mhm."

"Auri… Look at me, please."

She shakes her head, then. Because she knows that she'll fall apart all over again if she looks at him.

God, she's so tired.

"I didn't…" she murmurs, then takes a deep breath and tries again. "I didn't mean anything bad by the age thing… I promise."

"I know that, love. Of course I know," he says, pressing another kiss to her hand. "Fuck. I know. We were just joking. And I'm not mad about it, I promise. I mean, I was actually a stupid hormonal teenager back when we met, so yeah… You're right, things were different. But please, Auri, I hate that I made you cry just because I… Shit, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. It wasn't about you, I promise."

She stares at her knees and nods, because she knows he is. And she also knows she can trust him, which is probably why she — finally — honestly blurts out, "I keep messing everything up, y'know? All the time."

He brushes his thumb on the back of her hand, then murmurs back to her, "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. I just… I keep letting everyone down, and I hate it, but it's like I can't stop it. And I mean, to be honest I don't… I don't even recognize myself anymore. I used to have so much fun, and I felt so different about life… And I treated people around me so differently… And now I'm just… I don't know… I don't know why I say things, or why I do things. I don't know what I want, or what to do with my life… And I feel so… Lonely… All the damn time. But I get why I'm lonely, y'know? I mean it's true that I don't know how to be anything else besides being Noah's mum. And I'm so insensitive to other people because of that, and I keep saying things I shouldn't and I just… I look back and I realize how I pushed everyone away… How I… I don't know, I'm so tired of this. I'm just so tired of myself."

There is a pause between them, mostly because Harry's waiting for the people in front of them to settle and stop prying at their conversation. 

It's good, though, because it gives her time to catch her breath again.

And then, Harry leans deeper into his seat, still holding tightly to her hand.

"Is that how he made you feel?"

Aurora furrows her brows. "What—Who?"

"Zack. Is that how Zack made you feel?"

"I… No! Why—I mean, I'm just… I'm talking about myself." 

"Auri, c'mon… I know you're talking about yourself, but I can read between the lines."

She closes her eyes and takes her hand up to her face, rubbing her forehead while she prepares herself to just keep blurting out what her mind is begging her to tell him.

"I think…" she says, dropping her hand back to her lap and blinking. "I think he really messed me up, y'know?"

Harry sighs. 

It takes him a moment to say something. A moment that feels really, really long to her. 

And then… 

"Fuck." He puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her to his chest, murmuring while resting his cheek on the back of her head, "I'm sorry."

She shrugs, snuggling into him and searching for his heartbeat, just like before.

"'S not your fault."

"But I should've been there for you."

"You wouldn't have known." 

"Still… This isn't how it was supposed to be." 

God, she's so tired… 

Her entire body is heavy, and she doesn't even know what's happening around them anymore. She can't even make sense of their conversation anymore. 

Harry feels too cozy, though, and she knows she's about to have the comfiest sleep of her life — she can feel it.  

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"I got divorced six months ago."

Harry closes her eyes, then rearranges himself on his seat and pulls her closer to him.

"I know."

.

.

.

"You know? How?" 

"Niall."

"Oh. Okay?" 

"I texted him while you were getting your coffee."

She places her hands on his hips, holding her weight to pull away from him. 

Harry doesn't let her, though, squeezing her inside of his arms and locking her in. 

"Please stay," he murmurs. 

And Aurora doesn't fight him. She just relaxes again — she relaxes and listens to him. 

"You weren't wearing a ring… And I could tell something was up, so I… I asked him. That's all. Sorry if I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help it. I needed to know."

"Oh…" The concept of time is foggy inside her mind, but she's pretty sure a few seconds go by before she speaks again. "'S okay, I guess. I mean… Niall knows about the divorce, but he doesn't… He doesn't know the whole story. He doesn't know how bad it was."

"Does anyone know?"

"You?" She chuckles, but it's humorless, because she knows that not even Harry truly knows. "I just… I haven't been able to talk about it yet, or like… Process it, I think. I don't know. I keep justifying him a lot, which I'm learning it's something I shouldn't do."

He makes his cheek comfortable on top of her head, then takes one hand to play with her hair, scratching her scalp. "It can't be easy to go through something like this on your own, tho."

"I know…" She closes her eyes, appreciating his affectionate touch. "My mum's helping me a lot… She had to go back home now, but she spent over a month with me. Makes sure I don't skip therapy… Stuff like that."

"Hmm…" Harry says, and his voice echoes inside her body. "Always liked her. Smart one."

Aurora curls her mouth up. "Yeah…" 

Another moment goes by, and Aurora is filled with lightness as her body slowly drifts into sleep. 

"Thank you for telling me this, Auri."

"Mhmm… It's weird… To like, talk about it."

"I'll always listen. Whenever you want to talk about it, I'll listen."

"Thank you… 'M really tired, tho... And I think my brain is going to explode…"

Harry chuckles. "Get some sleep, yeah? I'll wake you up when we're about to land."

"'Mkay." She hugs his waist, and nuzzles against his chest. "Can't believe this all happened and we didn't even leave the country yet."

"Tell me about it."

"Mm… 'Kay… I'll sleep now… You're comfy… And I think… I feel drunk…"

Chuckling again, Harry presses a kiss on the top of her head, then slides down a bit on his seat, and she cuddles a little bit more into him.

"Ok love," he says. "You can relax now, I got you." 

And although Aurora doesn't answer, she knows he does. 

She doesn't need Harry to wake her up. 

Her brain drifts back to consciousness by itself, slowly making her aware of her surroundings way before the plane is even close to landing. 

She's warm, because of Harry's arms wrapped around her shoulders, but also because of his jacket covering her body. Her face is pressed against his shirt, and once again she's breathing from his skin. He still smells good — like a fresh shower — but now it's also mixed with a little bit of sweat, so it's somehow even better than before. 

It's hot. He's hot. Her insides feel hot.

She's also comfortable — so, so comfortable. It feels like she just took the best nap of her entire life. Like she's enveloped by a sense of calm and peace, a feeling that she doesn't want at all to end. Snuggled into his chest while his fingers keep playing with her hair, tracing random patterns on the back of her head. The movements are sweet, sweet enough to tempt her to go back to sleep. And she almost does. 

Except she can't. Not anymore. 

Because above all that, she can tell she's also kind of desperate. Clingy. Needy. Hugging his waist as if their flight landing in Italy depended on how tight her grip is. Both of her legs over his left thigh. His strong, firm thigh. She's holding onto him like a baby koala. A troubled one. A baby koala that's craving to be held by someone. Anyone. And as if she's terrified of the idea of being left behind while her mind shuts off from the real world. 

And maybe she is. Who knows.

She always liked to cuddle, and she hasn't properly cuddled in a really long time, so it's not a surprise. Still, it very quickly becomes embarrassing, and certainly not how Harry imagined things to go when, earlier in the airport, he offered his shoulder for her to take a quick nap. 

He offered his shoulder, not his entire body, for fucks sake!

So, against all wishes, Aurora stirs and groans — mostly because her mind is battling between sleeping for just two more minutes or acknowledging the reality of the world she's in — then pulls away from him. 

"Hmm…" She takes her hands up to her face, and rubs the last traces of sleepiness away from her puffy eyes, then sits back on her seat. "What time is it?" 

Next to her, Harry moves as well, withdrawing his arms from around her shoulders and placing his hands on his lap. 

"Must be around ten thirty now… Last time I checked was ten fifteen."

He sounds calm, so calm that she can't make any emotion out of his voice, so she turns her head to look at him.

Harry looks fully awake. Well rested. Peaceful. Soft. The only sign of him turning into her personal pillow are the wrinkles all over his shirt, but everything else looks… Perfect. Like heaven. He looks like heaven.   

"Hi…" He curls one side of his mouth up, and Aurora smiles, too.

"Hi…"

Only then it occurs to her that she's been staring at him, and she looks away, taking her hands to smooth out her hair then fix her dress.

"Did you sleep well?"

She nods, and takes his jacket off, instead using it like a blanket to cover her chest.

"Um, yeah… I did. Thanks. And thanks for… You know… Letting me crush on you? I mean, it probably wasn't comfortable for you, so… Yeah, thanks."

Harry scoffs, shuffling down on his seat and spreading his legs as wide open as he can. 

"Are you kidding me?" He takes both arms up and places his hands behind his head, resting on top of the palm of his hands. "You're a great cuddler. Went straight to my top five of all time."

The playfulness is clear in his words, which is why Aurora chuckles. Still, one question is loud and clear inside her mind: who are the other four great cuddlers? And most importantly, why isn't she his favorite one? 

The thoughts bring an uncomfortable feeling to her stomach, and she shifts on her seat. 

"That's kind of you to say, but you should see me during winter in the middle of the night… I'm like a baby koala and it's not a very pretty sight." 

"Huh." He smirks, and lifts his eyebrows. "Is that an offer?"

Aurora snorts and rolls her eyes, feeling her cheeks burn before she looks away. "Shut up."

Harry laughs, and just like that, everything between them goes back to normal. 

Getting into conversation with him is easy. Neither of them have seen their friends in a while, so they distract themselves by reminiscing old stories and laughing at silly things they used to do together. They also talk about Italy, about how neither of them have been to the country before, and how it's been a dream of both of them. They bond over small details, and find connections over silly things. And it's exactly what Aurora needs, as she finds out after minutes and minutes of light conversation and genuine giggles. 

It is only when they're about to land that her face falls again. 

Fully awake, the airplane movements become way more obvious than they did when taking off. And as soon as the belt sign goes on, and the pilot announces they're about to descend to Naples, Aurora's heartbeat speeds up.

She straightens up and leans her back fully against her seat, looking through the window at the bright sky. 

"Are you ok?" Harry asks. 

"Mhm…" She nods, and doesn't take her eyes off from the view. "Just… I don't like this part very much, that's all."

"Wanna hold my hand?" 

It is a nice offer, but one she doesn't think she should accept. So she doesn't. And as the plane gets closer and closer to land, every movement becomes even more clear. When it shakes, when it turns, when it's getting ready to touch the ground. 

She holds herself until the last minute. She holds herself tightly and firmly. Until it becomes too much, and one specific up and down of the airplane has her reaching for his hand.

It's like Harry is already waiting for her, to be honest, because she finds him quickly. Her sweaty and cold palm meets his warm one, and she turns her head to look at him. 

He's already watching her, and as soon as their eyes meet, his face lights up with a smile. 

Her belly quivers, and her chest tightens. 

"It'll be over in a minute," he says, squeezing her hand.

She nods, and swallows down, because it's the only thing she can do right now. She knows what he's talking about, and she knows it's true — they'll land, and everything will pass. 

Although something tells her that, whatever she's feeling right now, will not go away. It won't be over in a minute. It won't be over even when they're out and away from the plane. 

In fact, she's starting to believe that, as soon as Harry is next to her, looking at her like that, the fluttering in her stomach will never go away. 

if you've made it here, say caramel coffee :')

also, thank you for reading.

dani :)

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles au

[rubyuji]

The Reason for My Smile (Kim Mingyu) 🪡

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” ✮⋆˙

Genre: Angst, Fluff

AU: University!au, Nonidol!au

Pairing: Ex!Chan x Fem!Reader, Brother’s Best Friend!Mingyu x Fem!Reader (Literally Seungcheol’s younger sister)

Warnings: A bit of cursing, a break up over text but that’s about it.

Synopsis: Diving into a long-term relationship is scary for anyone for that matter, except the breakup from yours had left you traumatized because it happened over text. From then on you vowed to never wear your heart on your sleeve ever again, but your brother’s own best friend promised to change your perspective.

Note: My first ever Seventeen fic on this account, so it’s still a work in progress, but it’s definitely something! (Esp since I haven’t written in awhile). It used to be an Enhypen fic originally, but it took a lot of editing and proofreading, along with a lot of changes. Happy reading! Don’t forget to like + reblog! It would mean the world.

Word Count: 7.7k words (I’ve never written so much)

Your relationship with Chan wasn’t precisely the dreamy or ideal relationship you had hoped for but as someone who had almost no experience, put that and being a people pleaser together, and you have whatever is left of your so-called relationship.

It’s not like Chan was a bad person or anything, the boy was quite the softie, so he’s probably just as overwhelmed as you were when it came to dating.

The latter part of the relationship consisted of you trying to understand him as best as you could, that was until inconsistencies started popping up a lot more.

Chan felt distant, he was more busy, despite the two of you being in the same major. That was the whole basis of your relationship after all. At the beginning of your relationship, it was sweet and full of the first times. Chan used to hold your hand, his other one holding your bag, as you would walk to the diner across campus and stay there for hours just talking about your day.

The soft gazes he’d give you whenever your eyes met, the flowers he’d give you on a random day, and the late-night calls wherein one of you ended up asleep. It was like a broken record that rewind itself during the late hours when you would start to question his love for you.

Those moments seem like old memories to you now as you see another apologetic text from your boyfriend. Another text where he promised to make it up to you and that he’d do better next time, it was starting to become a routine where you got stood up by him.

You wondered what on earth would keep your boyfriend so busy, especially when you both had ended up together because you took the same classes. You weren’t a slacker and always got your work done on time, so things weren’t adding up, especially when you both always tried to help one another.

The week after your midterms, you decided to visit your family and stay at home for a little bit.

Your family lived thirty minutes away from campus and you honestly couldn’t bother to make a drive that long every day, so you opted to stay in the dorms to save time, but on occasion, you would suck it up for a few days whenever your living space felt too tight.

Today was one of those days, but it felt a lot worse than you’d like to admit.

“Hey, I’m gonna go stay at my family’s for the weekend, and on Monday, just try not to make a mess here or anything.” You say to your roommate, Bora, who nods without looking at you.

Your roommate had an annoying habit of not looking at people whenever she was focused on her work, but you grew quite used to it and just shrugged it off after a few months.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. I only ever have Chaeyoung or Hyewon over so no mess and no broken belongings. Have fun and say hi to Seungcheol for me if you see him, will you? Drive safe Y/n,” Bora finally turns to you from her bed and you laugh.

Seungcheol was a good brother and had a heart of gold, but you couldn’t handle your friends gushing over him in front of your face, it just felt weird when you grew up right beside him, the image of a younger Cheol picking his nose suddenly registering itself into your brain as you cringed.

You couldn’t care less about who he’d date though, it was none of your business, even as his little sister. As long as he didn’t end up hurt or hurting anyone, your brother was free to be with who he liked.

“Sure, I’ll leave a word when I see him. Tell me if anything comes up, and now I’ll get going! Bye, Bora!” You picked up your backpack and made the short walk to your car, ready to go home and lay on your childhood bed, which was admittedly more comfortable than the one you had in the dorm.

You text Chan about going to your family’s place, and the boy follows up with a thumbs-up emoji and an ‘I love you, stay safe’ text.

Your boyfriend didn’t have much to say anyway, and you were starting to grow bored with the way things were going. He probably felt the same way and you couldn’t blame him when you couldn’t keep your mouth shut either, since you seemed to be the only one exerting effort at this point.

He might even find you annoying now but didn’t have the heart to tell you because he was just that nice.

“Breaking up is honestly super tempting right now and I honestly can’t stand it anymore! It’s driving me mad, Cheol!” You whine as you stop at the intersection that leads into your neighborhood.

You didn’t mean to rub it in or anything, but you did live in a wealthier part of town, which explained the long drive home, and you were so glad to see the familiar area after a stressful trip.

It just so happened that halfway through the drive, your poor brother had to endure fifteen minutes of your rambling like some counselor even though he simply just wanted to check up on you.

“Y/n, just break up with him then, simple. It’s been months since you started telling me about how bad it’s getting, and honestly, I’m horrified to hear about what else is to come once you get here. I love you so much, really I do, but this boy is full of empty promises and lies,” Seungcheol sighs deeply.

The light turns green and you finally drive into your street, completely forgetting you were on the phone.

“Fuck don’t ignore me like that, I know how much you both liked your sweet puppy love phase, but get a grip Y/n. Chan is draining you, and he’s probably just as tired as you are. It’s time to stop hanging onto that year you both had,” You pull into your driveway and click your tongue.

Your brother was right, but it also killed you knowing you’d hate the thought of not having Chan around anymore. It was all easier said than done, especially when you felt incomplete without him.

“I see your ass in the driveway, Mom and Dad went out to get food so you have a fuck ton of explaining to do.” You see Seungcheol in the window and laugh before honking at him, scaring the living daylights out of him in the process.

“I’ll be in, like five. Let me get my bag ok? And tell Kkuma I’m here, I missed her.” You turn the engine off and grab your bag from the back, a wave of comfort and warmth washing over your form as you look at the house.

“Anyways, I’ve been contemplating on wanting to break up with him because I think he’s tired of me and maybe I did become quite annoying. Unless I’m invalidating my feelings and gaslighting myself into thinking I’m the problem,” You go on.

At this point, it was past dinner time and you and Seungcheol were in your room, dressed for bed and still talking about your problems. Poor Kkuma looked ready to curl up beside you and sleep but was forced to stay awake because of how miserable you were over some boy.

Seungcheol grimaced and set down a makeshift bed for the poor dog to lie on before turning to look at you with a concerned expression. “I think the latter, but you can be the judge of that. Now-” Cheol was cut off by your phone chiming and you turned to look at who on earth was texting you at one in the morning.

Your face turns pale as you look at the screen, and this automatically worries your brother, but his expression immediately hardens as he knows who it could be from.

“It’s from him isn’t it?” You nod slowly, the tears starting to fall from your eyes, dripping down your cheeks and onto the comforter you were on. Every word hit you like a ton of bricks, you felt helpless.

From: Chanie ^^

I think we need to break up. This relationship is holding me back and it’s starting to feel like a chore, I’m sorry I couldn’t do enough for you Y/n. I started to grow bored and you irritated me to no end, I don’t even think we would work even if we tried. This is my last goodbye to you, I’m sorry again that it had to end this way but I’m still young and feel like I’m not ready for something as serious as this.

You showed Seungcheol the message, only then realizing that your number was also blocked, preventing you from saying anything more. You were appalled, to say the least, your mouth hanging wide open as choked sobs started to come out slowly.

A year, a year went to waste with the person you thought would understand you best, the person you thought would hold your heart close to his, only for him to break it. The person who did the most and still managed to disappoint you.

Seungcheol held you close and you cried into his chest, Kkuma was suddenly on the bed licking your face and the world fell still at that exact moment. The moment you vowed to never trust anyone with your heart ever again.

You were a mess the rest of the semester following the text, crying on the couch the entire weekend as Seungcheol tried to console you, along with your oldest brother, but nothing worked.

You did go to class as normal, but you completely shut everyone out and limited socializing to only your family and friends until after finals.

Your break was coming up, and you were honestly relieved, to say the least. Bora was on the other side of the room getting ready to go home to see her family as well, packing up everything on her side in the process, but then you heard her huff as a pillow hit your head, interrupting the silence that was shared.

“What the fuck Kim?” You whined, taking the pillow and hugging it. Bora plants herself on the spot next to you, you look at her with a frown as she laughs.

“I’m gonna miss you roomie, but I’ll visit you often either way since you’re technically my best friend now. Now stop frowning, Chan was an idiot for breaking up with you. How you managed to get through the rest of the semester, I will never know, but you should go put yourself out there again! There’s bound to be another guy ready to treat you better, so stop moping ok? I know it’ll be hard, but I promise it’s not that bad. Have a bit of fun with it,” You pout at Bora’s words.

She was right, but the breakup over a text fiasco left you traumatized. Chan wasn’t the best boyfriend, and you both had your moments, but you weren’t ready to trust someone again just yet.

What if it ends the same way, or even worse? What if you were too boring? Questions swirl through your mind but Bora snaps you out of it.

“Hey, take it easy. Let’s hang out over break, just us girls showing Chan what he’s missing out on! Can you believe he left you? You’re a gem Y/n, a lot more people want you than you think. Now hurry up and pack the rest of your things!” You take in Bora’s words and nod.

It would be hard, but taking baby steps and meeting new people wouldn’t hurt. No rushing into serious connections just yet.

When you got home that day, you were happy enough to lay on your bed once again, all worries and concerns gone for the next few months. Suddenly, you hear a knock at the door and see Seungcheol walking in. You raise your eyebrow at him and your brother chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I was wondering if maybe we can hang out? Like all of your friends and mine,” Seungcheol looks down and plays with his fingers nervously. You were confused by his proposal but urged him to continue.

“Look, I like Bora and Minghao has this huge crush on Hyewon. Can you at least help us? Please? Look, I’ll take you shopping and even buy you food if I have to,” Your brother sounded like he was pleading almost so you really couldn’t help but feel bad.

“Cheol it’s ok, I’ll take you up on the shopping, now give me a date so I can tell the girls.” You smiled softly. Seungcheol punches the air and you laugh at his antics, you knew Bora also had the biggest crush on him so setting them up would be a breeze. Hyewon was a mystery you had yet to uncover though.

“I barely know your friends though, like I’ve met Jeonghan but who the hell is Minghao and how does he know about Hyewon?” Seungcheol lies down beside you on the bed and opens his phone, showing you a picture of him and three other guys.

Seungcheol then starts pointing out the two new faces to you. The lean and prince-looking one was Minghao and the tall, puppy-looking guy was named Mingyu. You couldn’t help but pay more attention to Mingyu, he was really attractive and you wanted to get to know him.

“Anyways, they’re the two new people in my frat. They’re super cool and like-” “Are you gonna bring Mingyu?” You cut him off mid-sentence, still in awe at Mingyu. Seungcheol’s brows knit and he rolls his eyes at you whilst you stick your tongue out at him.

“What happened to not dating? Come on Y/n, be serious,” You slap your brother’s face jokingly, the male screaming dramatically from beside you.

You didn’t want to get your heart broken again, but putting yourself out there wouldn’t hurt, as long as it didn’t get too serious, you were going to be ok.

“Shut up, it’s not like it’s gonna be a super serious thing just yet. Mingyu looks like a total hottie, I just wanna get to know him, have a little fun and get a bit of attention again,” You were ass at lying, so Seungcheol could only laugh at you.

“I trust you with him, Mingyu’s a very easygoing guy if that’s important to you. He’s also super single because he’s waiting for the right person,” he smirks at you.

Easygoing? And he’s waiting for the right person? On top of all that he’s cute and your brother trusts him with you? It sounded too good to be true.

You were happy for a moment, but doubts started to cloud your judgment once again. He sounded like a good guy, but how long until he turns into Chan and gets bored of you? It was starting to scare you again.

“Cheol, I don’t know-” Your brother gives you a serious look and sits up.

“I hope you understand that he’s not Chan, Y/n. Not all relationships are going to be like your last unless you try to take that leap. I promise you, he’s not a bad guy. Like, if he hurts you, I’ll hurt him because you mean a lot to me” You nod at Seungcheol, finally thinking positively and securely.

Not everyone is going to be like Chan, you knew that, but your memories and feelings for the boy held you back.

“Now, how does nineteenth sound?” Your brother asks you. You text your friends, immediately getting the green light from the three of them, Bora sounding the most excited.

“Perfect, and your girlfriend is just as excited as you are,” Cheol’s face turns a deep red before he runs out of your room in embarrassment, yelling about something along the lines of planning the perfect outfit. You guessed it was probably to impress Bora anyway, so you didn’t question him.

The silence of your room welcomes you once again and you are back into your thoughts. Mingyu sounded like a guy who would take someone seriously, maybe it’s just what you needed because guys your age didn’t have that much to go off of.

He was Seungcheol approved, and you told yourself that a million times, only because he hadn’t approved of anyone else but Mingyu. Chan could get past your parents and oldest brother, but not Cheol, so it was an odd situation to be in.

“I’ll figure it out later, right now, I need to sleep.” You put your phone off to the side and close your eyes.

Hopefully, you’ll be able to figure everything out once the nineteenth rolls around, both Seungcheol and Bora did say similar things, so maybe those two had a point. ‘No wonder they like each other, they’re the same person,’ you thought as the sleep took over.

Two days had passed and the dreaded day had rolled around much quicker than you had anticipated. As you put on light makeup, your friends are in the background screaming at each other throughout the entirety of your Facetime call because you all decided that it was a good idea to get ready together.

“Bora, it’s Seungcheol! He’s like Y/n’s male version so you don’t need to freak out that much! Now Y/n, show us the fit. You’re the only one who didn’t show us yet!” Hyewon whined over the phone.

“I’m wearing a gray long-sleeved, asymmetrical knit top, black skirt, and combat boots. For hair, I’m leaving it down and wavy, I don’t care much,” You say softly.

The girls suddenly burst out laughing as you put on your outfit, they didn’t seem to believe you one bit when you said you didn’t care because they knew you genuinely did care and tried not to.

“Guys come on, Mingyu is approved by my brother! How can I not care? I know I’m still scared because of the whole Chan fiasco but can you blame me?” Your friends hum in agreement until you hear the door behind you open.

“Y/n— Are you calling your friends right now? We’re leaving in a minute because Mingyu’s driving so hurry your ass up will you. Also hi Bora! Hi Hyewon and Chaeyoung,” Seungcheol grins stupidly.

You roll your eyes at your brother for obviously singling Bora out and tell your friends that you are going to see them in a bit.

“Bye, Y/n! Have fun looking at your new boy toy driving, already a huge upgrade from Chan!” Wonyoung laughs.

You end the Facetime call with a roll of your eyes before turning to look at Seungcheol with an eyebrow raised. Seungcheol puts his hands up defensively before you both hear a car honking outside.

“Mingyu’s here, grab your bag, and let’s go!” You huff as your brother rushes you, he was practically itching to see his crush, and embarrassingly enough, you too were excited to meet Mingyu and Minghao.

With your bag in hand, along with your phone, you finally follow Cheol outside and see a Range Rover of the latest model in black. Damn, Mingyu was in a different league that was for sure.

Seungcheol opens the door for you as you head in. You see Jeonghan riding shotgun and Wonwoo in the back smiling at you. “Y/n! So happy to see you again, I think this is your first time meeting Mingyu and Minghao,” Jeonghan says from the front.

You squeeze in the center comfortably and nod. Wonwoo was cute, he greeted you politely and was very friendly, but when your eyes met Mingyu’s, you suddenly became quite flustered. He held a sharp gaze, the watch on his wrist not helping you in the slightest.

“The shopping center downtown right?” Seungcheol nods at Mingyu’s words, his deep voice causing you to flush. You prayed to whoever was up there that you would at least survive the day because the tension in the car with him was enough to drive you nuts.

“So Y/n, how’s that thing with Chan?” You freeze up when Jeonghan suddenly brings up your ex, but you forget not everyone knew about the devastating breakup over text.

“We broke up over text...” You reply awkwardly. Jeonghan gasps as your brother runs his palm down his face, he knew better than anyone not to bring up Chan during the time you were still trying to move on.

“Hyung, give her a break. Sounds like it must’ve been rough, I’m sorry about that. He seems like a shitty guy, breaking up with you over text? Are you sure this isn’t a sitcom Y/n?” Mingyu speaks up as he looks at you from the rearview mirror. You feel your cheeks heat up slightly, nodding in embarrassment, but for some reason, you were shocked upon hearing Mingyu’s words.

Wow, he really picked Chan apart in a way you wouldn’t ever dare to. His bluntness snapped you right back to reality and you could hear Minghao chuckle from beside you. “What’s so funny?” You raise a brow at the boy.

“Mingyu hasn’t been this disheartened over anything in a while, it’s crazy that he’s already scrutinizing your ex based on how you broke up,” Minghao explains. Mingyu glares at him and huffs, looking so done and just ready to explain himself.

“Listen, in my personal opinion, I think breaking up with a long-term partner over text is stupid and a cowardly move. There were so many other ways he could have gone about it but over text? At least call or something instead, it’s super disrespectful towards your partner to leave them hanging without proper closure.” Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets upon hearing the reason behind his agitation.

So far, Mingyu was seriously proving you wrong the more he opened his mouth to say something, but you still weren’t ready because what if he’s even worse? The feeling still lingers and it’s almost like the ghost of your ex is not letting you go just yet.

“Mingyu’s right, I thought you both had something to be fair. Seeing how puppy love was just a phase makes me think I was quite wrong, you deserve better. Like Mingyu here for example! He’s very single and is looking for the right person, which could be you.” Jeonghan jokingly says.

You notice Mingyu’s ears turn red as he pulls into the shopping center. The car was suddenly filled with an awkward silence, everyone stunned at the oldest’s proposition. You and Mingyu had just met, what was he on about with you being his possible partner? It was crazy.

After Mingyu had parked his car, you all made your way toward your designated meeting spot. You could see Cheol and Minghao freeze up upon seeing Bora and Hyewon, causing a laugh to make its way out of your throat.

“Y/n! Over here!” The girls beckoned you over as you purposely ran in their direction to tease the guys.

It was a day to bring them together was it not? Yet you still took the opportunity to tease the boys as you wished. It was pretty funny to look at their reactions knowing they liked your friends.

“Hi guys, I brought Cheol and Jeonghan. The newbies are Minghao and, Mingyu” You say with a pause. Your friends squeal wildly at the mention of Mingyu’s name, shoving you with their elbows as you all laugh.

“Minghao is so cute actually, is he single by any chance?” Hyewon smirks, eyeing the male up and down.

You giggle and nod, your friend had no idea that the said boy was here for her, which made your job of setting them up much easier. Your work was basically cut out for you the moment they laid their eyes on each other.

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know in a bit. For now, let’s all focus on having fun today shall we?” You sling your hand over Bora’s shoulder, not noticing Mingyu’s intense stare at your form. Seungcheol and Jeonghan notice the action, causing the two of them to nudge the boy playfully.

“Bro, go shoot your shot. There’s so much tension between the two of you, I hope you know that” Cheol laughs.

Mingyu shakes his head at his words profusely, there was no way he was going to overstep a boundary, even if it was Seungcheol himself encouraging it.

You notice the boys talking amongst themselves but decide to shrug it off, they were probably planning their moves on your friends, but how do you tell them that they didn’t even need to try that much? They all seemed to like each other after all.

Between Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s continuous pestering, Mingyu had felt your gaze on them, causing his cheeks to grow hot. You were really pretty, and that goes without saying, but you had just gotten out of something long-term.

The time needed to heal you first, or at least that’s what he thought, since his mom had always taught him to be patient with the ones he loved or cared about.

“Give her time guys, I don’t think I can just rush in like that. Y/n came out of a slightly traumatizing event, so if you jump right in, it will only push the person away further. I should be friends with her at most while we’re still getting to know each other,” Mingyu makes eye contact with you and notices how you quickly avoid his eyes.

The day had gone by quite smoothly since then, each of you dispersing into little pairs after a while because your friends couldn’t seem to help themselves, which is what led you to where you were now. In a store, with Mingyu, picking out clothes for him to try on.

You had nothing better to do anyway, so why not style your brother’s hot friend, even though Mingyu himself already had impeccable fashion taste?

You bite your lip as you focus on the outfit, visualizing what it would look like on Mingyu, and how you could coordinate everything.

Mingyu thought it was adorable with how much thought and focus you had decided to put in when you were only doing this for fun, he ultimately decided to buy the outfit once he was done trying it on.

“Here, sorry I took so long. I haven’t styled anyone since my ex and my older brother, so this is the best you’re gonna get for now,” You handed him the items in your arms and pushed him toward the fitting rooms, eager to see how well you did.

“It’s no problem because you did put the time and effort into styling me, I might go ahead and buy it if it does end up being my style,” Mingyu smiles at you softly.

He was sweet, you had to admit. It wasn’t like Chan had noticed you putting effort into styling him so a little affirmation made your heart swell.

“You don’t have to, I kind of play around with it. I bet you will look good since you seem like you’d look good in anything” You admit shyly.

Mingyu was fun to be around, even if it was your first time meeting, you already felt as if you had known the man for a while. All around Mingyu was just considerate and one of the best people you could’ve ever met.

“Yeah, sure you do, I know you put a lot more effort either way. Let me try this on now, otherwise, I’d be too distracted looking into your eyes. Give me a minute and I’ll show you how it looks,” You nod as Mingyu closes the curtain, only then taking in what he had said to you. He was not being serious but was so smooth with how he flirted with you just now.

A minute had gone by and you heard Mingyu call your name, so you made your way over, only to find your heart nearly falling out of your ass the moment you saw him. He looked so good, great even, and you couldn’t help but stare.

Mingyu adorned a white shirt underneath a black zip-up jacket, adding detail by zipping up the bottom of it, and light-wash jeans. It was a really simple outfit, but you had to admit, he did tie the whole look together.

“How does it look? I think you did well honestly, I’ll buy the entire outfit right now. Let me go change so we can go meet up with the others,” Mingyu smiles.

You were amazing at what you did, it impressed him how you were able to pull such an outfit together in just a few minutes.

“I think it looks great, I’m flattered you like it so much that you’d buy it right now. Maybe I can style you again if there is a next time?” You reply shyly. You couldn’t meet Mingyu’s eyes because he looked so good.

From that moment on, Mingyu made it his mission to heal your heart and prove to you that you deserved a second chance at being treated better.

He had come to your house quite often and taken you out a few times, so much to the point that everyone around you started noticing that you were almost always with each other.

“You know what, this is the happiest I’ve seen you. Your relationship with Chan started to strain and you had become more dull and miserable, but being around Mingyu gave you a new kind of glow for some reason,” Chaeyoung quips.

You tilt your head in confusion, you liked his company but you hadn’t noticed any other changes.

“He’s great, but I’m still hesitant. You know how I am, as I get he’s not Chan, but who knows how everything would play out in the long run?” You say sadly.

Mingyu was more than amazing, he respected your wishes not to have a relationship, but still treated you in ways people could only dream of, but in his words, he was ‘courting’ you, something people don’t do much these days.

He was attentive, took care of you well, and would always be there for you no matter what. He truly was the real definition of being ‘one call away’. This was all so new to you, even being courted was something totally out of the ordinary.

“Y/n, he’s courting you. Not enough people willingly do that these days, so you have the guy wrapped around your finger. He’s patiently waiting for an answer from you, like do you remember everything you’ve told us?” Hyewon huffs out from above you as she is doing your hair.

It was girl’s night and you had decided to bring up your worries and updates to your friends, but you had forgotten the fact that you had also told them the details about your escapades with Mingyu.

From where you would go to what you did, down to the time he took you home, and if Seungcheol truly did approve of him.

“Did Chan ever actually think about how you felt in a certain situation? You know besides you telling him it’s ok and all? Usually being together with someone for over a year would allow you to read them better, but Chan barely knew your little habits. Bora took them in after a month of knowing you, which is concerning. Now on to Mingyu, what did he say that one time?” Chaeyoung snaps her fingers and you instantly know what she is talking about.

You came home one day and had gone the whole day without eating. You were out with your parents and they hadn’t considered if you were hungry or not since they were busy and had already eaten, so when you got home, you quietly slipped next to Mingyu in the living room after seeing the guys watching a movie.

“Hey, you’re home. How was spending the day with your parents?” Mingyu whispers from beside you. You shrug and he gives you a look that encourages you to tell him more.

“I hadn’t eaten anything, but honestly it’s ok now since I’m not hungry at all…” You trail off.

Mingyu shakes his head and takes his phone out, but you go over to stop him. He shouldn’t spend anything on you, and you already told him you weren't hungry so you felt as if you were only bothering him.

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?” You see your favorite restaurant on the delivery app on his phone and blush. Did he remember your favorite restaurant and order? That was sweet of him.

“No it’s ok I can manage,” You pretended not to see him already inputting the order and paying for it, but you still couldn’t help it when your stomach growled loudly. Mingyu raises a brow at you as you chuckle awkwardly.

“I’m getting you food, I know you’re hungry” Mingyu laughs. You hit his shoulder but thanked him gratefully for even thinking of you, it was a small gesture but it still meant a lot.

“How about that time he got you flowers for no reason?” Bora says while laughing.

You roll your eyes, she was the first person you had freaked out to over the phone because Mingyu had gotten you a bouquet of roses on a random Thursday with Seungcheol.

“What’s this?” You ask as Mingyu sets down a bunch of fresh roses wrapped in brown paper on the counter in front of you. Cheol and Mingyu had just gotten back from grocery shopping for your mom and then Mingyu came back with flowers, of course, you would be confused.

“I got you flowers because we saw them on the way out, and I thought you'd like them” Mingyu started taking out the groceries from the bags as your brother walked in with the last batch from the car. You flick Cheol’s forehead, but the older male can only smirk and laugh at you.

“Why? There’s no occasion,” You try to excuse, but you couldn’t hide how flustered you were.

Mingyu had thought of you while they were out? He did mean it when he said he wanted to treat you better.

“Can I not get you flowers even if there’s no occasion? Y/n, you don’t need to ask or have a reason to receive flowers, I hope you know that. I’m surprised this hadn’t been done for you more often than not” Mingyu’s back was still turned toward you, which you were thankful for because you probably looked like a tomato at that moment.

That night poor Bora had to endure an earful from you, just because Mingyu was a great guy who treated you the way you deserved.

Thinking back at those moments, you could only see the good in Mingyu, so you wanted your friends’ approval. He was already brother and parent-approved so that only left your best friends.

“Well, do you guys think I should finally give him an answer? It’s been a few months, and even if I am scared, I can’t let this chance go.” Hyewon finishes up your hair and pats your head, signaling her answer. You look at the others, who only grin back at you and you laugh.

“Y/n, he’s been a green flag since the beginning. It’s a good opportunity knowing he’s the type that’s ready to settle down,” Bora also brings up.

Seungcheol had always emphasized that Mingyu was a date-to-marry and long-term relationship kind of guy, which makes sense as to why you were one of the first people he had ever been super serious with when it came to dating.

“You guys are always the best, I’m glad everyone around me approves. I mean, I won’t know until I try right?” Chaeyoung hugs you and you sigh in content.

You were finally moving on, you were finally healing. It felt fulfilling in a sense, and knowing you were finally starting a new chapter with a great person, you felt as though your life was finally turning out for the better.

After a chaotic girls’ night, you had called up Mingyu to meet you at your favorite cafe that the two of you frequented. You were quite nervous, to say the least, but you were ready to take this huge step of moving on with the person who treated you right.

You hear the bell of the cafe chime, and you finally see the person you were expecting. Mingyu walked in, his hair down in its usual state, and in a casual but comfortable outfit.

He looked like he had just come from the gym. Your heart raced at how good he looked, he always did look his best whenever he came to see you, and you always appreciated the effort.

Mingyu spots you and walks over with a wide smile. He was always so damn charming, you couldn’t believe he was all yours. He pulls out the seat in front of you and plops on it, his attention fully on you. ‘Attentive as always, I don’t deserve you,’ you thought.

“You wanted to talk?” Mingyu finally breathes out upon seeing you. You nod and take his hands in yours, you were going to tell him how you finally felt because he deserved an answer. He had already done so much for you, the least you could do was show him that all his efforts were finally paying off.

“I think I’m ready to give you my answer. The past few months you had decided to court me and I’m thankful you were patient enough to wait for my answer. You’ve proved to me that relationships aren’t limited to how I and my ex went about ours and that if a guy wanted to do something, he would. So my answer is already set, I’ll be your girlfriend, Gyu.” You look up at him, only to see Mingyu grinning like an idiot.

He was elated, he finally got the answer he was waiting for and you saying yes only made it a hundred times better. Mingyu fully understood how much your last relationship had affected you, so he only made it a point to court you, knowing you weren’t ready for a commitment just yet.

He wanted you to be ready for him to love you and treat you the way you deserved, so he didn’t push it and waited for you to come around on your own, which you did.

“You have no idea how happy and relieved I am to hear you say that. Y/n, I’m so glad you gave me the chance to love you and care for you. I’m glad you gave me the chance to prove myself to you. I promise I will not hurt you in any way at all, and I promise to be as communicative as possible with my feelings so that you don’t end up in the dark. I want you to know everything because you deserve it,” Mingyu admits, not breaking his gaze on you.

“Mingyu, you’re everything I could’ve ever asked for. I don’t know what else to say. The past few months I’d been so scared to love again, to give a relationship another chance, but you’ve proved me wrong and even waited for me to be ready. You don’t understand how much that means to me,” You continue to fidget with his hands, but then he suddenly takes yours and places a kiss on your knuckle.

You blush at the action, you weren’t used to feeling or receiving this kind of affection since it had been quite some time, but with Mingyu, you weren’t afraid of anything, because you trusted him as much as he trusted you.

Needless to say, even months after you had given Mingyu an answer, he remained the same and still acted like he was courting you.

The only difference? He was finally your boyfriend and you were finally his girlfriend. You felt how serious he was about you when he had even introduced you to his parents, and they were just as lovely as their son was.

“Mom wants to go shopping with us on her birthday this weekend, I told her I would take her on a birthday date but she insisted you come along. She loves you that much already,” Mingyu chuckles as he walks into your room, fresh out of the shower. You laugh, his mom was the sweetest person, and you finally understand where your boyfriend gets it from.

“I’m down if she’d like, but you’re not getting me anything ok? You already spoil me enough and I don’t want you to spend too much–” You squeal as you feel Mingyu’s arms around you, the two of you falling flat on the bed.

Before you two could move from your position, you heard a knock at your door. It was Seungcheol, and you immediately pulled away from Mingyu once you saw him, still flustered and embarrassed from the previous action.

“Hey, if you two are going to be in the house, at least have some decency while I’m here!” Your brother whines.

You laugh and see him let Kkuma in the room. She had been with Cheol the whole day, so you and your siblings usually took turns spending time with the dog. You were the sibling in Kkuma’s night shift, meaning you had to take the dog in for the night since she liked sleeping in your room.

You thank Cheol for letting Kkuma in and bid your brother goodnight. Once the door closed, you looked over to see your boyfriend on the floor with Kkuma laying on her back.

“Hey, that’s my dog! Kkuma, you can’t just steal my boyfriend like that, and Gyu you can’t just do that to my child!” You joke. They looked perfect, and suddenly you start to imagine what your little family with Mingyu would look like.

Mingyu was the perfect partner to settle with, after all, he was caring and dependable, but also super honest and was not afraid to show or express how he felt. He just knew whenever you weren’t up to do something, or if something was bothering you.

“Is something wrong?” Mingyu noticed that you were more quiet than usual today because you almost always told him about your day. He noticed how your smile hadn’t reached your eyes and how you were fidgeting with your fingers more.

“It’s nothing” You tried to brush it off, but truthfully, you weren’t doing well. You just didn’t have the strength to let him know or the strength to explain how you felt, all you wanted to do was rest and go to sleep.

“Y/n, you can tell me anything ok? Be as open as you want to be, I’m always here for you and will not judge you no matter what. If you don’t have the energy to tell me, it’s ok. Just rest here” You feel his arms being wrapped around you as he strokes your hair. The action was small but it helped you ease up a lot.

“It’s hard Gyu, I don’t know how to deal with everything. I don’t have the energy to stress over anything right now,” You whisper. Mingyu rocks you back and forth, still playing with your hair as he places kisses on your forehead.

“Whatever it is you’re going through, I hope you know that I’m proud enough that you decide to wake up every day and do everything with a smile, even if the world has wronged you. you’re so brave and amazing Y/n, please do not ever doubt yourself” Mingyu replies softly.

“Gyu, you don’t understand how much your words have helped me” You kiss him softly. You felt so lucky to have him, he was beyond the best partner you had ever been blessed with.

“Mingyu, could I ask you something?” You say suddenly. The two of you were at his parent’s place since Mingyu had decided to take you to his childhood home in Anyang as a gift for your four-month anniversary.

“Mhm?” He hummed, putting down a plate of food on the coffee table in the living room, and sitting next to you on the couch.

“Why haven’t we said I love you to each other at any point in our relationship just yet? The others have asked me about it, but I just can’t come up with an answer to get them to leave me alone,” you whine. Mingyu laughs and kisses your cheek gently.

“Tell them that saying I love you isn’t easy when it comes to us, you haven’t said it either so we’re simply making sure that I can say it when the time is right. It’s not that I don’t or anything, but those words aren’t exactly an easy thing to just pop out there. The time will come when we can both say it meaningfully. Right now, we are still early into our relationship and have a lot to learn. I hope you understand where I’m coming from” he tells you.

It wasn’t that hard to understand what he meant. Mingyu had always been more careful, even if he didn’t say I love you, he still affirmed you and expressed his love for you in his actions.

Loving someone still comes in many forms, so the words I love you could wait because they should come from a place where you both fully understand and can comprehend how meaningful the three words are.

“I honestly think the same way, in a sense, I’m glad you’re honest about how you feel because I’ve been in a place wherein I was pressured into doing the action just because it was normal for everyone else, but not all of us are the same. Thank you, Gyu, you’re always the best with words.” Mingyu holds you close and you both sigh in content.

He wanted to treat you better, and he did. He wanted to show you better, and he expressed it in the best way possible.

© rubyuji 2024’ -. no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any manner without the permission from the publisher.

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[nunalastor]

I figure it’s about time I start to shout in the void(your ask box)

So here’s some HC I have:

Alastor has high pain tolerance. He’s good at knowing when to heal but he tends not to because he doesn’t notice it, so surely it’s not that bad. Vox, Husk and Rosie usually have an immediate reaction if he says he’s in any sort of pain. Rosie because they’re friends and she knows how Alastor is, Husk because he cares for Alastor on the down low(he still hates the guy but he’s a little fond of him) and Vox because he’s used to it from when he and Alastor were friends. They all know that if Al’s “sore” he’s actually dying. (Cue immediate bells for Husk when Al says he’s too tired to do something for Charlie after the Adam situation).

Alastor actually came to hell with white hair(deer genes). Hated it so he dyed it red. He accidentally set his hair on fire while trying to style it immediately after dying it so he had to emergency cut it hence the bob. Seems like the type to become fond of things quickly, so the bob stuck to the horror of literally everyone around him.

Husk can only speak the 7 languages fluently when he’s drunk. When he’s sober he can only speak 2 fluently; English and French. Ties in with my hc that Husk grew up in Louisiana before his family moved to Las Vegas. (purely so I can have him sing Friends on the Other Side to the hotel crew in my head).

Husk sneaks in more modern music into Alastor’s radio playlists that sound older than they are. This includes Tom Lehrer and medieval versions of modern music; Alastor knows all the lyrics to Montero but only the medieval version.

Charlie and Lucifer get weirdly territorial of the junk food in the house. It’s a remnant from when they would fight over the cereal when Charlie was younger, which was a fun game then but slowly got more serious as Charlie got older. It’s especially bad when they’re tired and/or hungry. Angel and Vaggie are the only ones allowed to take the food away when they’re fighting, Vaggie for obvious reasons and Angel because he can run fast. Husk can too technically, since he can just fly, but he doesn’t really want to(lazy). Same goes for Alastor(enjoys the show).

Vaggie gets really embarrassed when someone points out something nice she did or when her outfit is cute. Heaven expects everyone to always do good and look good no matter what so it’s only noticed when you aren’t. She doesn’t know how to respond to compliments or thanks so just freezes.

Niffty likes helping cook food, though she isn’t actually allowed to come close to the stove(she knocked a pot of soup over once, never again). She’s always happy to cut vegetables or deconstruct poultry.

Angel “anonymously” gives the hotel residents gifts as thanks for letting him hang around. They’re usually hand made and he tends to throw them at the person saying that “someone gave it to him and he doesn’t want it”. He thinks he’s slick but he’s not.

And of course, a cursed one: Alastor had a serving cunt era when he first arrived, where he kept with the times for like 1 year and wore scandalous clothes(like idk a backless blouse or, god forbid, an ankle length skirt) and a corset for his back problems. He got immediately embarrassed after he got over it and killed everyone who ever saw him, hence the overlord killing spree. He doesn’t wear a corset anymore, instead opting for a more discreet ensemble involving silk lines(like rope but flat?) that doesn’t impede his movements as much as a corset. His 7 year break was because he found an old photo of himself online and hid himself in shame. He eventually made a deal with someone to erase any trace of his phase from everything but his own memory. It’d be funny if that person was Velvette lol

👀👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #husk #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #niffty #velvette #that was the most tamed cursed thing we've ever received

[upagainstthesunset]

Adoption in Comics

Found family and adoption are big themes in comics. i see a lot of talk about found family, as i think that really hits home for a lot of the tumblr comics fandom and rightly so. So for this post im focusing on adoption, legal or otherwise. A guarding and ward relationship, which can be parent and child or looser terms.

Many of the most well known and beloved heroes were adopted or have adopted children of their own. It invites discussion of nature vs nurture, of dsymorphia, of choice. It can be a situation that's terrible, or it can be a salvation. It can be done for all the wrong reasons and lead to a disconnect of expectation vs reality. It can be full of love but still lead to missteps.

But before i go any further, a poll. Id like to get some background on the fandom here, so please consider reblogging.

Note for the poll: "Strangers" meaning someone who did not know your birth family prior to the adoption

I wish there were more poll options to also ask the adopted part of the fanbase if they are a different ethnicity from their adoptive family, as that usually has a huge impact on their experiences. For example, I'm Korean but my parents are white US Americans. I grew up in an area of some diversity but not a lot, in that all my closest friends were white and all of my extended family was white. And because of that, my ethnic heritage was something ive had to actively seek out and choose to make part of my identity. It also meant that i just plain did not look like my family or peers, and so stereotypes and assumptions (good and bad) have been put on me at times.

Economic status also plays a role. Im mostly pulling from past knowledge of adoption agencies, but it's not exactly inexpensive, and of course financial stability is one of the big things agencies look for. So it ends up being that a good chunk of adoptive parents are fairly well off, in the upper middle class range. And that in itself can be alienating. This wasnt my personal situation but I knew of others where it was.

I might need to make a series of posts about how all this pertains to comics. It could really be a Master's thesis topic. But for now I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on adoption in comics. What feelings do you have about it? Have you given it much thought? How do the socioeconomic statuses of the adoptive family inform the characters and their actions? Does race with respect to adopter/adoptee play a part in the dynamics of what's going on in the stories you read?

I of course have tons and tons of my own opinions on all this, but I genuinely would like to hear from others. This includes fans who arent adopted! Your readings and interpretations are valid on this subject too! Youre really the average reader, the main demographic. So it's interesting to hear opinions from that perspective as well. And if you are adopted and feel like sharing your thoughts on comics, please please do.

Oh! And one last thing, feel free to tag or list comics characters who are adopted or who have adopted someone. I'd be interested to see how many there really are!

#dc comics #adoption #clark kent #bruce wayne #<-tagging two of the big characters related to adoption #gottaknow #kateliftstheveil

[chiriwritesstuff]

Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House

Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.

Word Count: 8k

1998 (16 years old)

It's a school night on a random Monday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to ABC as he groans in annoyance.

"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"

"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Ally McBeal, and I'm dying to find out what happened between Ally and Billy."

"Gross. Not the biggest fan of that girly romance shit-" he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like that 70s show. At least it's funny."

You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Jackie," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Mondays are my night!"

Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Ally is kinda hot-"

You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Calista Flockhart as she flirts with Billy on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Ally," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.

"What, like a lawyer?"

"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"

"Not correcting you there-"

"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, her lack of love life notwithstanding, but still. I can see myself doing that!"

Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Glo."

"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"

"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."

"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.

"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."

"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.

Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"

"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"

"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."

"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder as Ally and Billy kiss on screen. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"

You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.

You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.

Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."

16 years later.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."

"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"

"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."

"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.

The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.

"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.

"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as young as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"

"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.

With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.

The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.

You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."

Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.

You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.

"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order SVU played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.

"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Mariska? Did you know she's the daughter of Jayne Mansfield?"

"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Stephanie March as she takes the stand, her sneer as icy as the blonde of her pin-straight hair, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.

"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"

Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."

As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"

"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.

"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"

A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.

With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."

You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."

With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Stephanie, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.

Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.

Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.

Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.

Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.

F-R-A-N-

In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"

You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"

A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.

Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)

"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"

"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"

"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"

You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.

"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"

"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"

There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.

"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.

Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-

"No, Glo-" she starts.

"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.

"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"

"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"

"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.

"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.

But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"

"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.

"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.

You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."

You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.

"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.

You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.

It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.

As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.

Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.

As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.

You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.

With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?

As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.

After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.

As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.

"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.

Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.

With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.

"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.

His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.

I've been gone for fifteen years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.

Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.

Or tried to, at least.

The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.

He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.

The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.

Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.

Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.

So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.

Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.

He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.

Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.

Ah, there it was.

I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.

Hell. She isn't wrong.

He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.

"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"

Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.

"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.

Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."

Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."

Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."

As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.

His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.

Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.

"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"

His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."

Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.

Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.

Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."

Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"

"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."

His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.

"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."

"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"

Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."

Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."

Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."

"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"

Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.

The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.

As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.

Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.

"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."

Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"

"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."

As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"

Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."

His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"

Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."

His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."

Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."

His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."

Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"

His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."

"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.

His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”

"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”

You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.

He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.

"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"

“No.”

“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“

“Pop-“

“She’s still single, you know.”

“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“

“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."

Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."

Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.

"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.

His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.

"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."

"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here beside her sister, and her Nana has been gone for the last ten years. This place is a shithole, honestly."

"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."

"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"

"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"

"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"

"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."

"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"

His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."

Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.

His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.

Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.

His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."

Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."

As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.

With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.

"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."

Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.

Series Taglist:

@ashleyfilm @danaispunk @imdrinkingpedro @yxtkiwiyxt @lilyevanstan1325

@kungfucapslock @critfailroll

#fic: hometown glory #pedro pascal #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales #hometown glory #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco morales #frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #triple frontier fanfiction #triple frontier

[bleucaesura]

STOLITZØ - SEVENTY

The following morning, Blitzø sat on the couch wrapped in a big fluffy blanket. He watched as Stolas shuffled over in his robe and bunny slippers, with two mugs of coffee.

Blitzø unwrapped half the blanket and pat the cushion beside him. Stolas smiled warmly, handed Blitzø his mug and cozied up next to him. Blitzø draped the blanket around Stolas’s shoulders once he had settled.

Stolas grabbed the tv remote and started flipping through channels. Blitzø looked over at him lovingly. When Blitzø went to have a sip of coffee, he realized it was iced. He looked down at the cold drink in his mug, tears welling up unbidden.

F*cking birdbrain…

“Darling?” Stolas looked over at Blitzø. “Goodness! What’s the matter?!” Stolas clambered to get out of the blanket so he could turn to face Blitzø.

Blitzø calmly put his mug on the coffee table. He climbed on the couch and knelt in front of Stolas, putting the owl’s face between his palms and smooshing his cheeks until they fluffed in that adorable way Blitzø loved.

Blitzø smiled happily and gave Stolas a quick light kiss.

“Darling?” Stolas blushed.

“Thank you for seeing me,” Blitzø grinned happily through tears.

Stolas sniffled, tears springing up; he threw his arms around Blitzø and they fell back on the couch laughing, tangled in each other’s limbs, tails and the blanket.

The TV buzzed in the background.

“666 NEWS”

“I’m Katie Killjoy”

“And I’m Tom Trench”

“Ha. Ha. No one f*cking cares who you are, Tom!”

“On our show today we have a very special guest! That’s right! The big guy who put the big ‘O’ in Ozzie’s. The sexiest sin himself. The lustful leader, Asmodeus is in the studio with some scintillating updates on a new product to hit shelves later this month!”

The audience erupted in applause.

Blitzø and Stolas looked over at the TV.

“Welcome your majesty!” Katie clapped enthusiastically as she slid down the news desk to make room for Asmodeus, hip-checking Tom off his chair on her way over.

“Thank you, Katie.” Asmodeus leaned in front of and across Katie and extended a hand to Tom as he was pulling himself back up into his chair. “And great to see you, Tom! We still on for Friday?”

Katie was NOT impressed.

Blitzø had started drinking his coffee and almost shot it out his nose onto Stolas. He started to choke. Stolas thumped his back trying to help him breathe through his choking laughter.

They missed Katie’s next comment through Blitzø’s coughing and laughter.

“Thanks for having me this morning.” Asmodeus smiled his celebrity smile. “If I could be indulged a moment?”

The audience clapped.

“Before I get down to the… Nitty gritty,” Asmodeus winked at the camera and purred in a deep gravely voice. “There’s something more personal I’d like to touch on first.”

The camera focused on him completely.

“As many, if not all, of you know, Fizzarolli and I have gone public with our long term romantic relationship.”

The audience erupted with cheers and applause. Asmodeus smiled unabashedly and waited for the applause to die down.

“And while I embody the sin of Lust… I DO love Fizzarolli. Yes he and I are in a loving and monogamous relationship... Being in love doesn’t mean the lust disappears. I say it makes it deeper, and even more… Pleasurable.”

The sex absolutely oooooozed off of his words. The audience was rapt. Blitzø and Stolas looked at each other, blushing.

“But I digress.” Asmodeus chuckled, breaking the spell. “I’m here to say: I AM a hypocrite.”

The studio filled with gasps, whispers and confused chatter.

Katie, desperate to get back in frame, slid her face along the news desk until she was at Asmodeus’s elbow. “And why do you say THAT, your Highness?”

Asmodeus casually pushed Katie’s face out of frame and continued, unfazed.

“I embarrassed a fellow Royal, and friend, at my club when I called out his relationship with an imp. I was wrong to do so. Not JUST because I hurt a friend.” Asmodeus’s demon flames grew. “But because I don’t AT ALL believe in this elitist BULLSH*T division of classes.” The lights all but went out in the studio as Asmodeus’s flames erupted.

A second later, it was as if a switch had been flipped and Asmodeus was back to his charismatic, charming self.

“So! Prince Stolas? Blitzø?… Owner of ‘I.M.P.’” Asmodeus winked and said conspiratorially behind a hand to the camera.

“I’m truly sorry. And my blessings to you both!”

The studio was silent for mere seconds before the audience erupted in applause and chaotic conversations.

“What…”

“The…”

“Actual…”

“F*CK!”

Blitzø and Stolas traded expletives while starring unblinking and agape at the tv.

“Now!” Asmodeus rubbed his hands together, excitedly. “Who wants to hear about my revolutionary new vibrator coming out next month?!”

Tom raised his hand and nodded enthusiastically.

Katie stomped off set screaming into a phone.

Blitzø turned off the tv.

“Did that just f*cking happen? Or was I f*cking hallucinating again?” Blitzø stared wide-eyed at the screen.

“It happened,” Stolas said just above a whisper.

They looked at each other.

Blitzø threw himself at Stolas, burying his face in his chest feathers.

Stolas fell back, surprised. He hugged Blitzø to him.

Blitzø nuzzled Stolas and hugged him back.

“Is… Is this ok?” Stolas stammered.

“Eez comfy” Blitzø mumbled from his snuggle spot.

Stolas chuckled. He stroked Blitzø’s horns affectionately, feeling somber.

“No… I meant…” Stolas paused, unsure what to say.

“Is WHAT ok?” Blitzø looked up at him.

“That,” Stolas looked toward the tv. “All of Hell knowing…”

“F*ck yeah!”

Stolas was startled. Blitzø grinned at him. His eyes shone.

“Free f*cking I.M.P advertising from Asmodeus on the 666 News?! F*ck YES!” Blitzø pumped his fist and laughed maniacally.

Stolas stared flatly back at him. He hoped he had his best ‘What-The-Actual-F*CK’ face on.

Blitzø grinned at him and burst out laughing. He grabbed Stolas in a tight hug and nuzzled his neck.

“Stolas, you birdbrain…” Blitzø whispered. “I want the whole f*cking universe to know you’re mine.”

*****

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #stolitz #fanfic #blitz x stolas #helluva boss fanfiction #666 news #blitzø x stolas #stolitz fanfic #helluva boss stolitz #katie killjoy #helluva boss asmodeus #tom trench #vivzieverse #vivziepop #vivienne medrano #brandon rogers

[wildsupernova]

too sweet.

summary: she was too sweet for him, everybody knew that. still, he couldn’t stay away, and neither could she, even when the sugar made his head spin and the bitterness burned her throat.

pairing: steve harrington x reader

warnings: brief mentions of sexual content, nothing too serious really

word count: 900

a/n: hey! just wanted get something up while i work on some longer pieces. i’m currently finishing up my second semester of my second year of college, so i haven’t had time or energy to write much of anything lately. figured i’d write a little blurb when i got the time to keep the content coming for you guys. anyway, hope you enjoy! hopefully new longer content will be coming soon. if you enjoy, leave a like, reblog, or a comment, whatever, any little bit of engagement helps. :)

masterlist | prompts list

She was too good for Steve, everyone knew that. She was a delicate, well groomed rose bush and he was the patch of weeds that grew in her planter box, stealing every last bit of water from her until her leaves turned brown and fell from her stem. He wasn’t someone a girl like her should ever be associating with, but something kept him coming back to her, and her to him. 

They didn’t speak in school, sharing stolen glances from across the hall, soft stares that turned desperate when they were filled with memories of two nights ago. To Steve’s friends, she was nothing more than a conquest, and to hers he was nothing more than a walking red warning sign telling her to run the other way. To each other, they were something they couldn’t quite name, unsure if it was love or boredom or something else entirely. But boredom wouldn’t have you running back to someone like this, wouldn’t have you lying awake thinking about them and your heart racing every time you shared a glance. 

He was the type to fall asleep when the sky was dark and wake long after the birds had already started singing, and she never crawled in or out of bed any later than the sun. He’d tried to see her once, crawl through her window after every streetlight had flickered on, but she hadn’t answered his taps on her window, duvet blocking out any sound that might disturb her early sleep. Two mornings later and he’s woken from his own sleep by the ringing of his phone, her sweet voice begging him to watch the sunrise with her at Lovers Lake. He had complained and told her it was far too early, but when she told him she got up that early everyday he simply laughed and grabbed his keys from the bedside table.

He asked her once if she’d ever thought about sleeping in, or staying out late to watch the stars around a bonfire. She’d shook her head, told him routine was what she needed, that she could get the most out of her day if she went to bed early, but that same night she’d made it back home long after the moon took its place in the sky, hair frizzy and skirt twisted sideways. 

She reminded him of when he’d drank a Screwdriver for the first time, far too sweet for him to handle without his head spinning, but giving him enough of a buzz that he couldn’t stop sipping it. He reminded her of the single sip of her father’s whiskey spiked coffee, the kind that turned her tongue bitter and burned her throat on the way down, but had her heart racing all the same. 

He always laughed at the way she’d scold him for his dirty mouth. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a single ‘bad word’ come out of her, and everytime one came out of him, she was quick to smack him on the shoulder and tell him off like a mother. She kept her body guarded, rarely letting his hands wander too far until it was two hours later and she was desperate for them to be anywhere else but on her face. He started to wake up earlier just to hear the birds sing about her. 

He started seeing her in everything. In the rainy days where the sun was still in the sky, the soft patter of raindrops hitting his window sounding more and more like her laugh every time. He saw her in the wisteria vines that climbed the trellis in his mother’s garden, in the sip of wine he stole from his mother’s glass. He told himself he could wait a few years until he didn’t burn so much, until he became a better man who could handle how sweet she was. She told him she didn’t mind the burn, didn’t mind the bitterness, but if he wanted to wait until he was smoother for her, she could do that. She could wait.

2 years later and she's still just as sweet, smooth like an aged bottle of wine but with that small bitter hint you don’t really notice until you’re two glasses in. He’s smoother, like the shot of bourbon sitting next to her on her kitchen counter, but he still burns just enough for her to recognize him. She downs the amber in the glass and tells him she can handle the burn, and he tells her that sweet still makes his head spin, even after all this time.

Suddenly he’s the one waking before the sun, slaving away over an oven and a glass of wine left out from the night before, birds singing the same song they used to years ago. He’s in bed by sunset because she’d pulled him to the bedroom by the arm, lips lingering on his skin in the same way he used to linger on hers. He finds himself watching his language and she lets a few dirty words slip now and then, and her hands move his lower when she gets tired of them on her waist. He still sees her in the rain and the roses outside of his apartment, down to the small thorns hidden just beneath the beautiful crimson petals. She sees him in the thunder storms and the dandelions, beautiful and dangerous all the same. 

Suddenly, Screwdrivers aren’t too sweet for him anymore, and whiskey doesn’t burn her throat quite like it used to.

#Spotify #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve x reader #stranger things angst #women writers #stranger things fluff #fluff #short fanfic #hozier #songfic #too sweet #steve harrington x reader

[karenandhenwillson]

I've seen so much discourse about Bucktommy and especially Tommy and it is so wild. I just want to write down some of my thoughts over all of it because that tends to help me to stop thinking about it.

"Oh, how can anyone just abandon Buddie for Bucktommy?"

Has anyone really abandoned Buddie, though? Or are they just for the moment very excited about a new and so very carefully portrait queer story line? Just because some people talk more (or for the moment only) about Bucktommy, doesn't mean they don't like Buddie anymore. They just have something shiny and most importantly canon to fawn over for the moment.

Also, I'd like to give that question back: Why aren't you all excited for a carefully and softly portrait new queer storyline about a character a huge part of the fandom—including the actor himself—hoped for years would get a queer story line?

And it's a pretty unique queer story. Of course, we had Michael figuring out his sexualtiy and growing comfortable in it right at the beginning of the series. But there are some huge differences between Michael's story and Buck's story.

For one, we ended up in the middle of that story. Michael had already done a huge part of the work of getting to know himself. He was ready to live as a gay man. And second, nothing of what we saw until season 3 was from Michael's point of view. It was all from Athena's point of view. 

So it was a "coming-out late in life" story line, sure. But it was a queer storyline from a straight perspective. And in some instances, from a very hurt perspective about it all (which are, of course, very valid emotions for Athena, May, and Harry, but it still gave the queer side of the story line a certain taint). And they did that beautifully, too, no doubt. I especially liked that the family didn't break over it, that they grew with that experience, and that Michael and Athena became great friends over the years.

But now we also have a "coming-out late in life" story line from the queer perspective! 9-1-1 is pretty much the only series I'm following right now, so I have no idea if we had something similar recently. But from all the talk I've seen, it's pretty damn unique, especially for a male bi character. So, of course a lot of people are super excited about it. Because it's honest and good representation that the writers and the actors are handling with a lot of care.

"Oh, if it were a female love interest, you'd all hate her again!"

First of all, go back read that paragraph about many people being excited about getting a queer story line again! I think that's about 40% of the answer for everyone wondering about it.

And then, of course, Tommy has now already more depth and character and background than we ever saw about Ali or Natalia. And despite some people claiming he didn't have any kind of redemption arc, he truly had a lot more of a redemption arc than Taylor ever got even if only glimpses of it were ever shown on screen. (Maybe I'll get into my thoughts about that in another post.) Not gonna talk about Abby, because I think most of the dislike for her came long after that relationship was over after she ghosted Buck (and after Eddie had shown up).

One huge difference between every love interest of Buck or Eddie we have seen in the past to Tommy is also, that Tommy gets along really well with Eddie. We've already seen a friendship develop there. That never happened with any of the women either Eddie or Buck dated before. We saw that one dinner Buck and Taylor had with Eddie and Chris, but it was very clear it was the first time, and that was over half a year into Buck and Taylor dating, probably more like nine months.

If you wear slash googles around Buck and Eddie or not, their deep friendship is undeniable. It's very much canon that they both have a hand in raising Chris. Any love interest coming in has to deal with that, and has to somehow fit into that friendship. Tommy is the very first love interest in canon we have ever been shown to have that potential at all.

I'm personally part of the fandom that thinks that Buck and Eddie have great potential in a romantic way, BUT that they are first and foremost soulmates, no matter if platonic or romantic. And at least the Bucktommy fics I've read so far have all acknowledge the friendship of buck and Eddie and Chris' role in Buck's life. With Tommy being very accepting and supportive of it. (Though, I admit I’m very careful in my selection process.)

"Oh, Bucktommy is only a steppingstone for Buddie anyway! Don't get so invested in it!"

Who are you tell anyone what they should get invested in? I also think, with the excitement right now, even if Bucktommy break up, the ship itself will live on in fandom.

And also, didn't any of you learn out of the cheating story line they settled Hen and Karen with?

There is barely any content for Henren*. And I've been looking! Most stories they are tagged in don't really focus on their relationship. And those who do focus on their relationship get barely any attention. And you know why that is? Because a lot of people can't or don't want to deal with the cheating. (I deal with it by trying to ignore it or seeking out content where it's fixed!) Do you all really want to have a second queer story line that centers around cheating?

And even if none of you care for Henren (which... I know many don't *shrugs sadly*), have you all already forgotten the real pain over Buck kissing Lucy and then not fessing up to Taylor about it right away? (Once again, I deal by either ignoring it or seeking out content that fixes that bullshit.)

I'm honestly pretty disgusted by all the speculation about 7x06 that has anything to do with Buck and Eddie cheating on Tommy and Marisol during the bachelor party. And even more so about all the fics one can find about that, or that use Tommy as a device for Buck and Eddie realizing they are in love. (Honestly, even filtering out the other relationship tag while looking for stories in one relationship tag doesn't prevent one from stumbling over those stories right now, no matter if one is currently looking for Buck/Tommy or Buck/Eddie stories. It's so fucking annoying. I've turned to only reading old Buddie fics for the moment.)

Aside from the whole cheating of it all, why do any of you think the next episode will focus on anyone else but Maddie and Chim?

"Bucktommy is so racist! But really, no surprise in this fandom!"

What's no surprise is that "racist" is once more used as a buzzword in this fandom. To the point that BiPOC fans of Bucktommy are being told they are racist for the ship they like. (Nothing new about that in this fandom either.) Honestly, half the arguments about why the ship is oh so racist either make my head hurt while I try to follow the many, many, many mental loops people are making to get there, or they just make me laugh outright.

Do some of you really believe it when you say "Buck got together with a White man instead of his Latino best friend, so of course that's racist!"??? I'm just... Are you okay? Do you maybe need something warm to drink, a snack, and a nice place somewhere in the sun far away from the internet to just enjoy nature for a little while?

As I said, I'll probably make another post about Tommy's redemption arc over the whole "He is an unrepentant racist and misogynist". That redemption arc exists and has been baked in since season 2 (even if some of people clearly lack the media literacy to see it). Though, other people already put together great meta posts about this. But maybe if there are enough of it, some people will for once acutally read and start to think instead of continuing to spew their hate.

*PS: If anyone has good Henren contant, especially fanfiction, feel free to drop me a DM. I'm always looking!

#911 abc #tommy kinard #even buckley #bucktommy #hen wilson #karen wilson #henren