#been thinking about dh lately

[rad-roche]

doodle of corvo, who is the most tired any man has ever been

#corvo attano #dishonored #rochedotpng #verrrry quick and messy but had fun with it #so i figured i'd share it #i love corvo he's the best #been thinking about dh lately #i'm always thinking about it but you know what i mean

[emeritusemeritus]

No Good Deeds [George Weasley x Reader]

Part 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5

Pairing: {George Weasley x Reader} mentions of previous Fred Weasley x Reader.

Timeline: Set a few years after DH, loosely following Canon.

Summary: A few years after Fred’s death, the investors of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes demand changes to the name. All it would take is two years of a fake marriage to fix the issues, but no good deed goes unpunished.

Warnings: Fake marriage trope because we love the cliché. Mentions of death (Fred). Friends to lovers. Slow burn but mentions of kissing and eventual smut. Swearing. George calls us Angel. Drinking. SMUT. The smut has arrived! P in V, oral (both). Angst, sadness, grief. Tags will be updated with each chapter. Not Beta-read or spell checked.

Honeymoon time 💕

Your wedding to George was a jubilant celebration with your family and friends, a chance to bask in the love you were so thankful to receive from everyone around you. You'd honoured Fred in many ways that day, including photos of him, an empty chair with his name on and many other little ways to make it seem like he was there. You'd noticed George had worn his chain under his suit shirt and the sight of it made butterflies flutter inside you.

It was a small and quaint wedding that had admittedly been rushed in planning, only two weeks after you'd announced your engagement, but it was perfect. No one had doubted your intentions and the day had gone completely to plan, except for the regular hiccups that seem to occur when a group of people are brought together. Muriel had been characteristically foul as usual and had clashed with your great aunt Ariadne though she'd avoided the more triggering topics which was one consolation.

You danced with your friends and your now blended family late into the night, with George eventually stealing you back from dancing with Bill for one final dance.

"Have you had a good day Mrs Weasley?" He asks, holding you close as you sway with surprising grace even with the healthy amount of alcohol you'd both consumed.

"The best, Mr Weasley," you beam up at him, his handsomeness once again hitting you as you look upon his smiling face.

"Couldn't have asked for better. I don't think you've ever looked more beautiful."

The night you'd spent together had not been repeated since, nor had you really spoken about it. There was a lingering tension between you, growing increasingly stronger throughout the day as you thought of your wedding night and honeymoon, the anticipation almost consuming you.

Ginny and Fleur had whisked you away from George not long after your final dance to get you ready to leave for your honeymoon, which you'd be departing for very soon. It was tradition in the Weasley family to immediately begin your honeymoon the night of the wedding and you had readily accepted the chance to exit out of the wedding a little earlier into the night, giving you and George some time alone.

You'd chosen to honeymoon in the U.K. to keep costs down, after all this whole situation was based upon George reclaiming the shop as sole owner and any unnecessary spending would only increase the amount of time you'd be married. Bill and Fleur had graciously offered for you to stay in Shell Cottage with them but George had instead chosen to surprise you with your destination. He'd tactfully evaded every single one of your questions, relishing in his power of knowledge but had thankfully given you a few clues as to what you should pack. Clothes for all weather, from hot to bitter cold, a couple of 'nice' outfits and a bathing suit. So, nothing to really go off.

Percy had arranged a ministry car for you to borrow for the week, his gift for you both and you'd decided to travel like muggles for the week, taking your time and only using magic when necessary. George was driving to your destination, the luggage and travel necessities having been packed up earlier that day by the Weasley boys and Harry.

The crowd cheered as you both walked towards the car that was waiting for you, your family and friends gathered around with jubilant faces as you walked hand in hand towards the car. You both paused to thank and embrace Mr and Mrs Weasley before climbing into the car, George opening the door for you before getting in on his side. You waved at the gathering of people in front of you as George pulled away and as you pulled away from the Burrow, you peered through the back window, squirming around the freshly painted 'just married' sign to see your loved ones fading further away as they carried on the party.

"Are you okay?" George asks gently as he drives out of Ottery St Catchpole, the rolling Devonshire fields passing you by as the sun begins to set.

"I'm... incredible, I don't think there are words for how I'm feeling," you say with a wide smile, giggling a little at your inability to get your words out. He chuckles and reaches for your hand, pulling it onto the gear stick to join his.

"I know what you mean, I feel like I'm floating," he says, flashing you a smile before turning his attention back to the road. You take the opportunity of his attention being elsewhere to really look at him,  the plains of his face looking unbelievably handsome to you. He looked stunning in his suit, the colour and cut of the material only serving as a compliment to his gorgeous red hair and sharp features.

"Checking me out Mrs Weasley?" He says with a smirk, eyes still fixed on the road. You fight to hide the creeping blush that appears on your cheeks, realising that he'd caught you staring. You bite your lip and turn away, choosing to look out of the window at the rolling hills instead. "You can you know, I'm yours now."

You turn to look at him and the smile he has plastered on his face fills you with warmth and nervous excitement.

"You look so handsome, I feel like I can't take my eyes off you," you admit, a little bashfully.

He gives a deep chuckle and squeezes your hand that is still held by his own.

"You have no idea how hard it is to drive right now, all I want to do is stare at you," he admits, though he sounds completely unashamed of his words. You blush and look away again, this time out of pure bliss, wanting to remember everything about this moment.

"Get some sleep Angel, it's quite a drive," he says softly a few minutes later, turning down the radio that was playing music in the background.

"I'm okay," you lightly protest, despite feeling relaxed by the drive. "I wish I'd taken this dress off though, not the best travelling outfit."

"And take that joy away from me? How dare you," he jokes, sounding a little outraged. Your stomach instantly fills with nerves and butterflies at his words; he intended to take your dress off.

You fell asleep a short while later, just as the last slither of sunlight had disappeared into the horizon, the long stretch of road ahead now only lit by car lights and the faint cats eyes on the ground. The mixture of the low humming from the radio, the gentle rocking of the car and the presence of George was enough to lull you into a much needed sleep as you cuddled into a pillow you'd thought to pack, wishing that you were wearing something much less restrictive but that couldn't be helped.

When you woke again, it was still pitch black and George was still driving, the car lights ahead of you the only clue to where you were.

"Hi Angel," George says, noticing you staring as he briefly looks over at you with a smile.

"Mmm, hi Georgie," you mumble back, still fighting off the last embers of sleep. "Where are we?"

"Nice try," he says, not falling at the last hurdle and you give a little huff, hoping that one would have worked. "About an hour away."

"Is there time to stop for a coffee somewhere?" You ask, sitting straighten in your seat as you abandon the pillow into your lap.

"I don't know anywhere that would be open," he says, flicking his eyes to the dashboard clock, prompting you to do so and realising that it was now past midnight, much to your surprise.

"McDonald's will be," you say with a little shrug, trying to see any hints from signposts as to where you were of where the next services would be.

"McDonald's?" He asks, completely oblivious and you can't help but laugh, never having thought about how the notion of 24 hour fast food had not yet entered the wizarding world, making George completely oblivious.

"It's a 24 hour restaurant, usually around road services, it's fast food," you explain. He immediately gets it and let's out a little 'ahhh' of understanding, telling you that there was a services coming up and you could check if there was one there. There was.

Introducing George Weasley to drive-through ordering was nothing short of hilarious and you'd briefly lamented the fact that his first McDonald's experience wouldn't be inside an actual McDonald's building but you were not about to enter a fast food joint at a service station in a wedding dress. You'd both ordered a coffee, yourself a medium coke and then you had excitedly introduced him to not only a Big Mac but also chicken nuggets, both of which were a complete revelation to him and you had to hold back serious giggles at his reactions. Half an hour later and you were on your way, coffees in hand and belly's a little fuller as you prepared for the last part of your journey.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take over? I don't mind driving to give you a break," you offered as you watch him put on his seatbelt.

"You don't know where we're going," he says with a devilish smirk but you feign innocence.

"Then just tell me and I'll get us there," you say innocently, batting your eyelashes at him.

"Nice try baby," he says with an even more sinister smirk, his eyes roaming your face briefly before he turns on the car and begins to pull away after one last sip of coffee.

You were transfixed as George turned right up a long winding path entirely shielded by trees, the long road leading you deeper under the canopy of trees until you were completely surrounded by woodland. You could make out a small, warm light at the end of the long road and became transfixed on the approaching light, trying to focus your eyes hard on that point, trying to make sense of it. The car swerved a little to avoid a large twig in the road which brought your destination into clear view.

You gasped at the beauty of the scene in front of you, looking excitedly at George who looked more than pleased at your reaction.

"George," you say breathlessly as he parks up in the little clearing beside the place you'd be staying.

It was a rustic log cabin, completely shielded away from everything by a large canopy of trees, a beautiful escape completely hidden away from the outside world. The cabin was almost entirely made of wood with wooden shutters and a wrap around deck.

"George it's beautiful," you say, completely gobsmacked as you look at the gorgeous lodge in front of you, seeing it illuminated by the multiple lanterns that offered a stark contrast against the pitch black night.

"Only the best for my bride," he teases, opening up his car door, prompting you to do the same.

"Want to explore whilst I unload the car?" He asks with a grin, holding the keys to the cabin out in front of you, the little wooden keyring clinking against the two old fashioned keys. You nod enthusiastically and reach out to grab them, pulling George in and without much thought, you leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. Instantly, you realised what you'd done and took a step back, blushing a little as you avoided his gaze. His hand had instinctively wrapped around your back and he gave your back a little rub as you parted, showing no ill will as you turned and walked excitedly towards the cabin.

Opening the door, you were immediately met with an illuminated room thanks to the warm lighting from multiple lamps and light fixtures. The cabin was warm, as if there was a log fire already burning and the smell was heavenly, clean and fresh but with an indisputable scent of wood and pine, a natural consequence of it's idyllic surroundings. You walked through a little entrance hall that houses a utility room before stepping into an open living room, dining room and kitchen, all of which were warm and inviting with natural wood features throughout and neutral colours, highlighting the windows which you knew would almost certainly have beautiful views in the morning. There were two brown leather sofas that looked absolutely lush and a single armchair underneath a window that looked perfect for reading, a tall lamp beside it and a little table for drinks. There was a television and a cabinet in the corner and beside that was a beautiful log burner that was indeed lit, radiating heat throughout the home. You couldn't see much through the side door that was half glass but the outside light did illuminate the decking a little, highlighting a rather impressive sunken hot tub that was covered, eliciting a little excited squeal from you.

You walked down a small corridor that led off from the main atrium through a beautifully carved wooden door with an old metal latch which led you to the bathroom on the left and two bedrooms. You crept into the bathroom to take a peak and saw a big bathtub to the left and a built in shower to the right, as if every need was catered for. One bedroom has two single beds partitioned with a beautiful shelving unit and the other bedroom was almost certainly the master.

There was a huge four poster bed against the back wall bookended by two beside tables with lamps that looked entirely too inviting. The bedding was sheer white and completely crease free, only adding to its appeal. There was a smaller television in here too, along with a dressing table and a large, ornate wardrobe that looked older than the cabin itself.

"What do you think Mrs Weasley?" George asks from behind you as you pause to run your hand over the ornately carved bed frame. You turn to see him leaning against the doorframe with a smirk, still wearing his wedding suit but now with his tie removed and a few buttons open near his collar.

"I think it's absolutely beautiful Mr Weasley," you reply, turning to him with a look of pure elation.

"Just like my wife then," he says with a look in his eyes that makes your pulse race. He steps towards you with clear conviction and it's all you can do not to melt into a puddle, the look in his eye so dangerously arousing that you're almost frozen to the spot. It was the first time he'd called you his wife and the reaction that it pulled from your body was almost unbelievable, the sound of it almost heavenly in your mind.

As soon as he reaches you, there's a brief pause as if he's searching your face for any hint of resistance, not that he'd find any. When he sees the look in your eye, knowing that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, he steps even closer and wraps his hand around the back of your neck before leaning down and kissing you with a burning passion.

Your hands slip up to his chest, feeling the material of his lapels under your fingers and pull slightly, needing to feel him as close to you as possible as you pull his jacket off. His fingers tangle in your hair as the kiss deepens, tongues working together to fuel the burning desire between you both.

With his right hand cradling your head and his left clutching as your waist, he begins leading you to the side of the bed, silently asking if it was okay to go further.

"Make love to me George," you say against his lips, hardly wanting to pull away for even a second. You hear him groan against your lips before his hand slips from your hair and down to your butt, cradling you and taking your weight. In a move that would otherwise impress you if you'd seen it in person, he sweeps you off your feet whilst climbing onto the bed and lays you down softly before climbing over you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

"I've waited all day to rip this dress off of you," he mumbles against your skin as he begins kissing down your neck, onto your bare shoulders where your dress straps began, the soft layers of the gown suddenly feeling much too restrictive as your skin burnt up with desire. He kisses down your chest as your hands tangle in his slightly grown out hair. There's a single moment where your eyes meet, just as he hovers over your panting cleavage and it takes your breath away how absolutely sexy he looks, the desire and admiration in his eyes mirroring your own. His long fingers drag against your rib cage as they dance over to your covered breasts before he reaches in to pull down the cup of dress, exposing your right breast to him, your dusky pink nipple already hard and waiting for him. He groans, watching your breast spring free and immediately bends down to run his tongue over the pebbled nipple, eliciting a deep, breathy moan from you before his lips wrap about the little bud and begin sucking. You moan out again, throwing your head back into the pillows at the overwhelming sensation and suddenly you feel the whole atmosphere change. There's no trepidation anymore, no resistance or questioning but rather just a primal urge between both of you.

You can tell that George is feeling for the opening your dress so you divert his fingers to the small, concealed zipper on the side and help him drag it down, much too slowly for your liking. He pulls away the dress after you slip your arms out and you watch carefully as his mouth slips open to a little 'o' shape as he pulls the dress from your body, exposing you completely to his gaze. You couldn't wear a bra with your dress thanks to the unique straps but you had thought you buy a tiny white lace thong that you'd had embroidered with a little 'W' on the left side of the crotch, knowing it would either make him laugh or make him growl. Luckily for you, it was most certainly the latter as he groaned as he spotted it, momentarily fixated on your naked breasts that were exposed completely for his view, his eyes travelling down your body with acute precision before he eventually noticed your little customisation. He groans and leans down to press a kiss directly to where the 'W' was situated, just above your mound and you can't help but squirm as the sensation of having him so close to where you needed him. He notices, of course he does, and his eyes flick up to yours with a look of pure mischief as he begins kissing the inside of your thigh and across your bikini line, teasing you. You groan and can't help but roll your hips as he flutters kisses everywhere apart from where you need them.

"My beautiful wife needs something?" He teases, acting completely oblivious when you knew he was very aware.

"Please George," you beg, "need you."

Like a switch had been flicked in George's mind, his long fingers begin tracing your pussy through the very thin and nearly transparent lace, groaning once again when he feels the wetness seeping through the lace. You feel his fingers hook into the side of your thong, catching your labia with a little stroke before he pulls them away from your burning pussy, exposing you completely to his view. He wastes no time and leans down, licking a long stripe across your pussy, catching your swollen clit with the til of his tongue in the most perfect way that has you gasping and moaning.

"Fuck you taste good, so sweet," he whines into your pussy, resting his forehead against your mound for a moment before he slips down again, this time licking you with vigour. "So wet baby."

His tongue is everywhere, delicately stroking and teasing whilst also hitting every spot you need him in perfectly. It's a perfect juxtaposition between his igniting a fire inside of you, making you burn with desire and pure torment whilst also extinguishing the flames with his tongue. As soon as his finger traces your inner lips as it moves down, gently pressing into your waiting hole before he slips one of his long, deft fingers inside of you, you're gone. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, hips rising of their own accord as you grope your breasts, completely consumed by your pleasure. He slips a second finger into you as you cry out, fucking yourself on his fingers as he circles your clit with his tongue, putting pressure on the left side just as he's discovered drives you crazy.

"George, George!" You chant as you feel the beginning of your orgasm rising in you very quickly, consuming you and burning you from the inside out. Your pussy is drenched and you can feel more arousal gushing from you as your climax crests, George's own moans ringing out in your mind as he pushes you over the edge. It's like you're falling, the crescendo of light and burning arousal overtaking your whole body and mind, the only capable thought in your mind is of George. He licks you slowly as you come down, careful to avoid your sensitive clit as he laps up your cum, fingers still slowly fucking you bath and forth with gentle strokes, extending your pleasure.

You gasp to catch your breath, chest rising and falling rapidly as your heart pounds, the effects of your orgasm still lingering as you feel a tingle across your whole body. It takes all of ten seconds for you to focus your attention back to George who has pulled his fingers out of you and began kissing your inner thigh again, soothing you as you return to him.

You sit up and reach for him, pulling him on top of you as you kiss him feverishly, moaning as you taste yourself on his lips. He notices and groans deeply against your lips, almost growling as you lick at his lips, desperate for a taste. You claw at his shirt, desperate to even out your nudity and feel his skin against yours and as if he can sense the sheer desperation, reaches down and completely rips the front of his shirt, the flying and falling buttons only an afterthought as you fight to get the shredded shirt away from his body. Your hands slip to his smooth shoulders and down his back as you kiss him desperately, pulling his tongue into your mouth so you can suck on it, relishing in his deep groans and little whines. Your hands rest on his collarbones as you slowly pull away from him, pushing him slightly until he realises was you want. You overpower him with just enough force that he rolls onto his back as you immediately latch to his chest, kissing and biting as you make your way down to your destination.

His suit trousers are completely tented, the sheer size an excitement of him almost intimidating to you as you fight to open the fastenings of his trousers. You don't wait even a moment after they are open to slide them down his hips, along with his black boxer briefs until he was completely bare, except from his sentimental chain and your wedding rings. You crawl back up the bed after throwing aside his bottoms and flick your eyes up to see his own desperate look as you come face to face with his rather impressive member. His lips are parted and he looks completely desperate as he watches you carefully, silently pleading for you to take his aching length in your mouth. You grant him reprieve almost instantly, licking straight from the crest of his balls to the engorged tip of his cock, tracing the throbbing vein on the underside of his cock, following the gentle curve. He cries out at the contact and it makes you want to do everything in your power to hear it over and over again.

You gave into him completely, taking his tip in your mouth and licking all around, earning another heavenly noise from him before you sucked in your cheeks and bobbed up and down his length, taking him deeper and deeper with each fall; never stopping your tongue from running along the length of him. You were addicted to him, the taste, the weight of his length against your tongue, the feel of his smooth skin against your lips. You fought to go further with each bob, sucking him down like the most delicious treat from Honeydukes, giving everything you could.

George was moaning mess before you, desperately searching for any part of your body he could reach as he fought to stop his hips from rising each time you'd pull off, like he never wanted to leave your hot, wet mouth. Sweet names, curses and a load more expletives fell from his mouth as you pleasured him until he reached out, leaning forward to pull you closer to him.

You were dripping, more aroused than ever and so desperate for him to fill you that it was all you could think about. He pauses, looking at the little strip of lace that was still misplaced, concealing nothing of yourself and ripped the thin strings on the sides, tearing it away from your body, both of you complete bare to the other's gaze.

It was so intimate and intense that it stole the breath from your lungs, just how adoringly he was gazing at you. His hand grabbed around your neck, holding your face and threading into your hair as he kissed you completely without abandon, your chests pressed together as your leg slipped between his, desperately seeking friction.

"Ride me baby," he mumbles against your lips and as if acting directly on command, you comply. You lift your hips and straddle him, his narrow hips allowing your thighs to rest against his comfortably as your centres align, the heat and sensitivity joining together to make you both gasp.

He reaches down and holds his perfect cock at the bottom, ready for you to climb onto and you can hardly contain your cries as you slowly sink down, feeling him stretching you out. He pulls his hand away, moaning at the sensation as his hand rests on your bum, the large hand and long fingers wrapping around your bum and thigh.

It's sinful how well he stretches you out, filling you completely without any pain or discomfort, like you'd been moulded perfectly for his cock alone.

When your hips rise again and you sink back down, this time much more confidently, your head flips back at the sensation. George grunts and tightens his grip on you as you slowly begin to ride him, hips undulating and breasts bouncing as you fall into a perfect rhythm. Your hair fans out across your back and you've never felt sexier in that moment, feeling adored under his gaze and praised by not only his words but also his moans and growls.

You're both so worked up, so perfectly in sync that you can hardly contain yourself, not even caring to try and hold off the impending climax that threatens you, creeping up slowly until it's impossible to resist. You can feel your walls clenching around him, your arousal peaking as it leaks out around his cock and you're rewarded with the most incredible moans that spill from his lips at the sensation.

"George, Georgie I'm gonna," you stagger, completely breathless as you keep riding him, finding the perfect spot and movement so that he hits every single pleasure point inside you.

"Cum Angel, fuck, cum around my cock," he pants, groaning and tightening his grip on your hips as he fucks up into you. "Godric you're tight, perfect little pussy squeezing my cock so good. Cum for me Angel."

You chant his name as the heat of your second orgasm consumes you, never once stopping as you bounce on his cock. He takes over fucking up into you as you ride out your climax, filling you completely as he shoves his entire length into you before pulling almost completely out and repeating the motion. You're in complete bliss, overwhelmingly so, and can hardly stop tears of overstimulation brimming at your eyes, blurring your vision only slightly. George lets out a roar as he cums, fucking up into you with a brutal pace that is sinful at best. His hands pull you close to him, bruises forming under his grip but it's perfect.

His thrust stop slowly as he comes down from his high, riding out the last of his pleasure as he pulls you down to rest on him, softening cock slipping out at the angle. You breathe deeply as you feel the evidence of his pleasure slipping out of you slowly, trickling down until it dripped onto your inner thighs.

He cranes his neck to reach out to kiss you again, though this time it's like a warm down, gentle and sensitive.

"Welcome to the family," he wheezes after a few moments of comfortable silence and you let out a loud belly laugh at the absurdity of his words, tapping his chest as you slink down to rest beside him, his arm still keeping you pressed to him. He's covered you both with the duvet and you can't resist slipping into a very comfortable sleep, too comfortable and worn out from the day to fight it.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #george weasley masterlist #George Weasley x you #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley smut #George Weasley fluff #no good deeds

[whinlatter]

Harry’s thoughts of Ginny in the Forest: a meta

‘Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you... I wanted you to have something to remember me by.' - DH, p. 99 (UK edition)

Here I am, on a rainy Thursday, doing re-reads for some writing and thinking about the parallels between Harry and Ginny's kiss on his birthday, and Harry’s thoughts of Ginny as he goes to his death. 

I’m thinking differently about Ginny’s motivations for the kiss these days. I used to think about her words to Harry that morning, and the act of kissing him, as a promise she’ll wait for when he comes back. Lately, I’m wondering if it’s not something sadder, and more profound. I think what Ginny does on Harry’s seventeenth is the act of a person who is starting to process the fact that the person she loves is likely going to his death — that he might not be coming back. It's a scene of a person bracing for grief and thinking about love after death, and it will set the stage for how Harry meets his own death in the Forest.

So here’s a much-too-long meta to help me think through these ideas - about the kiss, Ginny’s suspicions about Harry’s fate, and what it means that Harry returns to the memory of Ginny at the end of his life. (Stick the kettle on for this one and if you worked this all out long ago before me, just give me an eye roll and forgive me).

I’ve always taken Ginny's words to Harry before their kiss at face value. I thought of it not quite as a fun scene - it’s certainly sad - but sweet, a little sexy, and sort of reckless, even a bit mischievous on Ginny’s part.

It’s the birthday of the boy Ginny loves. They’re not together anymore. She knows he's going away. She wants to give him a birthday present, but she doesn't want to give him something he has to haul around or might lose. She does want to let him know that, despite their separation, her feelings are still the same. She craves a moment with him before he goes. She is still in love with him, she is deeply attracted to him, and part of her still feels a bit possessive. Although she’s not really concerned Harry’s going to crack on with some Veela, she does want him to have a memento of their time together. She wants him to have a happy memory, of physical intimacy and emotional comfort, to keep him going while he's away, to feel less alone.

Most of all, I used to think of the kiss (and whatever Ginny imagined might come after the kiss) as a promise. I still love you. Even though we’re not together and I respect why you have to go, I’m still all in on this. I’ll wait for you for when you come back. I want you to have the memory of this, as proof.

Harry’s reveal

But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I think about the context of when this kiss happens, after Harry and Ginny's last conversation before his birthday. It's the one a few days before, when Harry and Ginny are laying the table for dinner, and Harry lets slip to Ginny what he, Ron and Hermione will be doing when they leave:

'‘And then what does she think’s going to happen?’ Harry muttered. ‘Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she’s holding us here making vol-au-vents?’ He had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny’s face whiten.‘So it’s true?’ she said. ‘That’s what you’re trying to do? ‘I - not - I was joking,’ said Harry evasively. (DH, 78-9, UK edition)

This is a desperately sad scene, but it’s also an important moment. Harry, so used to having his guard down with Ginny, realises he’s accidentally confessed something big: that he’s going on the run to try and kill Voldemort himself, with Ron and Hermione’s help. 

Ginny is shaken by this. As a character, she tends to either take things in her stride, or yells first, processes later. But this catches her off guard. Her words suggest there has been speculation about what it is the three of them are going off to do (‘So it’s true?’ suggests that Ginny, and perhaps other members of her family or the Order, have been speculating about this for some time). But both she and Harry realise here that he’s flippantly confirmed something huge that Ginny did not already know for sure. He’s spoken aloud the task is that Dumbledore has left him. 

It is a sign of how close Harry feels to Ginny, how safe he feels in her company, and how difficult he finds managing keeping secrets from her, that he lets this slip. He won’t come as close to telling the truth to anyone else, even people he trusts. The scene before this, in his conversation with Mrs Weasley, he didn’t let on nearly as much (though he admits that he found affirming the importance of secrecy difficult when he looked at Mrs Weasley and saw Ginny’s eyes staring back at him):

‘Well, Dumbledore left me . . . stuff to do,’ mumbled Harry. ‘Ron and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too.’ ‘What sort of ‘stuff’?’  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t—’  ‘Well, frankly I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Granger would agree!’ said Mrs. Weasley. Harry had been afraid of the “concerned parent” attack. He forced himself to look directly into her eyes, noticing as he did that they were precisely the same shade of brown as Ginny’s. This did not help… ‘Dumbledore didn’t want anyone else to know, Mrs. Weasley (…)  I didn’t misunderstand,’ said Harry flatly. ‘It’s got to be me.’ (DH, 77-8)

Later, he’ll also refuse to give any information to Lupin, for the same reason. 

'‘Can you confide in me what the mission is?’  Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but greying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer.  ‘I can’t, Remus, I’m sorry. If Dumbledore didn’t tell you I don’t think I can.’  ‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lupin, looking disappointed.’ (DH, 173-4)

But with Ginny, he’s accidentally gone much further. He hasn’t said Horcruxes, but he’s as good as. The trio are setting off to try to kill Voldemort, the most dangerous task imaginable in this war. He tries, in vain, to undo it, but the damage is already done. Ginny knows more now than she did before: that the journey he’s about to go on is one that very likely will claim his life. 

What does Ginny know about Harry’s fate before this moment? 

It's clear from this interaction that Harry has never discussed any of this with Ginny before. In their breakup scene, Harry repeatedly said that he was breaking up with her for her own safety. He said he did not want her to be used as bait, as she already had been previously, and as Sirius was: 'Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up...' (HBP, 602). The focus was entirely on the risk to Ginny's life, a risk Harry says he cannot live with.

Ginny’s remarks at Dumbledore’s funeral told us something about how she, at that point, understood the path ahead for Harry. She made her half-joke that Harry was always busy saving the Wizarding World, and says she thinks he 'would never be happy', never fulfilled or satisfied, unless he were 'hunting Voldemort' (HBP, 603). She showed she interpreted his actions as choices being made by someone brave, determined, and personally committed to bringing about the end of Voldemort, not someone destined to. Harry’s motivations and reasons are ones she respects and empathises with. She knows the path ahead is dangerous. She doesn’t yet think of it as lethal. 

Harry didn’t respond to her assessments at the funeral, neither correcting nor confirming them. He didn’t let her know, at that stage, exactly what it is he is going to set off to do. The closest Harry came to revealing the road ahead for him in the break-up scene was this:

'It’s been like… like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you,' said Harry. 'But I can’t… we can’t… I’ve got things to do alone now.' She did not cry, she simply looked at him.’  (HBP, 602)

This is a pattern throughout their relationship, both as friends and later as romantic partners. Ginny knows a little, but not a lot, about Harry’s path. She thinks of it almost entirely as a decision he has made himself. Conversations about Harry’s destiny - about the Prophecy, about being the Chosen One, and, eventually, about the Horcrux hunt - happen near Ginny, but never with her. She does not seem to believe that Harry is the Chosen One or in any way bound to Voldemort's own fate. At the start of HBP, on the train in Slughorn’s carriage, Ginny states publicly her belief that any speculation about Harry being the Chosen One is nonsense: 

‘We never heard a prophecy,” said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it. ‘That’s right,’ said Ginny staunchly. ‘Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual.’ (HBP, 140)

Ultimately, before DH, Ginny has been given very little information. We can assume that she’s decided to respect Harry’s decision to keep any information from her and not to push for it. She has reason to fear he might be in danger, but she doesn’t yet know the full extent of it.

Ginny’s response

The immediate aftermath of Harry’s confession at the Burrow is very telling. 

‘They stared at each other, and there was something more than shock in Ginny’s expression. Suddenly Harry became aware that this was the first time that he had been alone with her since their stolen hours in secluded corners of the Hogwarts grounds. He was sure she was remembering them too.’ - DH (79)

It’s important that, immediately after this confession, Harry’s mind immediately takes him to private time spent alone with Ginny at the end of HBP. His certainty that Ginny, too, is reminiscing about them is typical of their wordless displays of understanding. They both reach for memories. And the memories of the last time he was alone with her, when they were still together, suddenly trigger an intense emotional and sexual tension. They are soon interrupted, and the dinner afterwards is extremely awkward. Harry wishes he were further away from Ginny, and tries, with great difficulty, to avoid touching her at the dinner table. The energy between them is intense and charged, anticipatory and frustrated. There are lots of ‘unsaid things’ that have just passed between them, and both are aware of it (DH, 79).

There are important themes being introduced here. Whenever Harry thinks about memories of his time with Ginny in DH, he does so consistently in two clear ways. To him, those times were private, intensely intimate moments which carried huge personal significance. It is strongly implied those were moments of sexual intimacy between the two of them, and where they shared an emotional closeness neither has found with any other character. But those moments with Ginny are also something Harry feels he was wrong to take. His relationship with her was something that, in retrospect, he embarked upon against his better judgement. He now feels it was something he was not entitled to, on account of his own burdens and obligations. Those were ‘stolen hours’ that were ‘something out of someone else’s life’. If we look to the wedding scene, we can see this most clearly:

‘‘Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely,’ said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. ‘But I must say, Ginevra’s dress is far too low cut.’  Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again. Harry’s mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person’s life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead…’ (DH, 121) 

There are certain tropes at play here, that will that recur again and again in Harry’s thoughts of Ginny until the point of his death: the memory of time alone, the feeling of shared emotional and physical intimacy, to an intense degree; the sense of their time together being something stolen, both in the sense of it being snatched from within darker times, but also being forbidden, given with Harry’s fate when it comes to Voldemort. That Harry recalls these moments at a moment as two other characters make lifelong vows of marriage to each other is not insignificant: all is set up to maximise the sense of tragedy.

Ginny processing Harry’s fate

Ginny is not naive. Harry’s confession seems to change something about how she thinks about what he’s about to do. She may once have dismissed the prophecy of Harry as the Chosen One as nonsense. But she now has reason to suspect that might not quite be true.

She may well re-trace what she does know. After all, she was at the Department of Mysteries two summers prior, where she learnt that Voldemort, at least, thinks there is a prophecy of significance that involves Harry directly. She knows Harry has been having one-on-one lessons with Dumbledore: she even gave him one of the invitations (HBP, 228). She also knows that Harry and Dumbledore left school for a secret mission alone on the night the Astronomy Tower was attacked and Dumbledore was killed. She observed how Harry saw Dumbledore’s death as a catalyst to prepare for a path that required him to step back from her. Above all, we also know that Ginny is a character who understands Tom Riddle intimately. She is one of the people who comes closest to understanding the stakes of your life being bound, in some way, to Voldemort.

It is also significant that Ginny is a character canonically intrigued, and touched, by death, and by powerful Dark magic. The diary, and her own near-death experience, is the most obvious example. But in the Department of Mysteries during OotP, we are told she is also one of the characters most drawn to the veil, despite having far less direct experience of loss and grief than Harry, Luna, or even Neville:

‘[Harry] took several paces back from the dais and wrenched his eyes from the veil. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to — well, come on, then!’ said Hermione, and she led the way back around the dais. On the other side, Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione took hold of Ginny’s arm, Ron Neville’s, and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door.’ (OotP, 775)

I don’t mean to suggest Ginny knew what was coming for Harry, that she foresaw him having to go to his death. She knows nothing of Horcruxes, she doesn’t know the contents of the Prophecy, and she certainly doesn’t know Harry himself is a Horcrux. Harry, of course, doesn’t yet know the certainty of him going to his own death, at this point in the text. But given the information she alone has been handed, inadvertently, by Harry, she has plenty of reason to begin to suspect the path Harry is on is one that might end in death, moreso for him than for an anyone else in this war.

Ginny doesn’t appear much in the following pages, other than in her role helping to prepare the house for the wedding. Over the next few days, she has lots of time to consider Harry’s words. We know she’s also sharing a bedroom with Hermione, who is actively preparing for their imminent departure, and watching the three of them try to sneak off together to make plans. This is time for Ginny to start to digest the information Harry has unwittingly divulged. She can now begin to think about how she ought to respond to the prospect of him leaving for a mission that will, likely, cost him his life.

The kiss itself

We can see Ginny has planned this interaction with Harry in her bedroom. The false casualness of how the scene opens - ‘Harry, can you come in here a moment?’ - and the actions of the bedroom’s other occupant, Hermione, suggests some level of premeditation and collaboration. For the first time, Ginny brings him into her bedroom, with the door closed. The setting is obviously intimate and suggestive.

Harry describes Ginny as seeming nervous, but purposeful, like she is readying herself for something - she ‘[takes] a deep breath’. She is looking at him ‘steadily’. Harry is nervous, too: he cannot bring himself to look at her, finding it almost painful, like ‘gazing into a brilliant light’ (DH, 98). Her trademark blazing look is in full force. She doesn’t entertain his attempts at small talk: she is serious about what she’s about to do.

‘‘I couldn’t think what to get you,’ she said.  ‘You didn’t have to get me anything.’ She disregarded this too.’ (DH, 98-9)

Ginny opens by revealing how difficult it has been for her to work out what she could give him, under the circumstances. She is, in her own way, acknowledging how hard she is finding processing what it is he has to do now. She has been struggling with the prospect of Harry’s departure, and the possibility, even the likelihood, of his death. But she has decided she wants to make that path easier for him. Despite his reassurance, she insists she wanted to give him something. 

‘‘I didn’t know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.” He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful...' (99)

These lines are so significant. The first two lines in particular are deeply profound. They read very differently to how I first thought of them, if seen in this light. I didn’t know what would be useful, she says, because she doesn't know what she can say that will be useful. What could possibly make this easier, to help Harry think about the enormity of his situation, or to help guide him on a path requiring him to accept his own likely death? 

She doesn’t want what she gives to him now to be too heavy, too sad, or too serious, because she knows Harry will not be able to deal with it (‘nothing too big’). Anything too declaratory, too sentimental, or too enormous, would be impossible for him to leave with. In the last part of the sentence, her words are deliberately vague: because you wouldn��t be able to take it with you. 

I think this is the most poignant part, and it suggests the part of Ginny's mind that believes in, and is curious about, what happens beyond, after death: the voices on the other side of the veil. I think there is some part of her that thinks Harry might be going somewhere she can’t reach him - what Dumbledore will later call going on. Ginny does not openly speculate about where Harry will be taking whatever she gives him. That it could be to his own grave, or beyond, is left unspoken. He looks at her, finally, after these words, because he seems to understand, on some level, what she is trying to say to him.

‘She took a step closer to him. ‘So then I thought, I’d like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you’re off doing whatever you’re doing.’’ (DH, 99)

Ginny has decided: the thing she will give him is a memory, one that he can take with him when they part. Something to remember me by. She wants the memory of her, of them, to be useful, to serve him in some way, and to be something that he might be able to take on with him after death. She tries to soften what she’s trying to convey, with the joke about the veela. But both seem to understand what she is really saying: that she isn’t really asking for his loyalty or fidelity. She doesn’t say she’s giving him ‘something to remember me by’ for when he comes back and they can be together again. Her words are very final. The joke is supposed to make it easier for him to hear what she is saying: she’s telling him, quietly, how to think about her when he leaves, whatever leaving might mean.

Harry, for his part, continues the joke. (‘I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.’) She plays along, sort of, in a very sad way (‘there’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for’). But both seem to know that there is no real silver lining to this. 

And then there’s the kiss itself: 

‘There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,’ she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion, better than Firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair —’ (DH, 99)

It all comes to a head here. Harry recognises that this kiss feels exceptional, unlike any other they’ve ever shared - that Ginny has never put so much into a kiss before. It is ‘blissful oblivion’, this moment of extraordinary intensity, where she kisses him and allows him, for a moment, to think only about her and them together. It’s heady and sexual (‘the feel of her’). It’s a gift for Harry  to be able to forget everything and let this moment be a vacuum, to focus only on her. The crescendo effect of the short causes and run-on sentences allows the moment to build and build, a crescendo effect that anticipates something to come. 

Of course, their moment gets interrupted, again. Unlike when Ron interrupted her with Dean, Ginny doesn't rage at him this time: she is subdued, a response that is far more appropriate for her processing the fact that she may have just had her final kiss with the boy she loves. Harry suspects she has started to cry, something he notes is out of character. Ginny had imbued a lot of meaning into this interaction: this is a portrait of a character whose heart is breaking.

When Harry and Ron are discussing the kiss outside on the lawn, after the initial shock of being yelled at by Ron for going anywhere near Ginny, Harry has his own, shattering realisation of what all of this means for himself and Ginny:

‘Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she’s just going to get her hopes up again—’ ‘She’s not an idiot, she knows it can’t happen, she’s not expecting us to— to end up married, or—’  As he said it, a vivid picture formed in Harry’s mind of Ginny in a white dress, marrying a tall, faceless, and unpleasant stranger. In one spiralling moment it seemed to hit him: Her future was free and unencumbered, whereas his . . . he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead.’ (DH, 100)

Thinking aloud, Harry says it would be idiotic for he or Ginny to imagine they could be together, either now, or at any point in the future. He expects her to find someone else; he cannot even begin to imagine a future for himself after the task set out for him. He does not say his inevitable death - he has not yet embraced that reality - but he remains caught in the certainty of an existential battle with Voldemort that he knows he may well not survive.

Later that day, Harry will receive the snitch from Dumbledore’s will. Though he doesn’t know it yet, he now holds the resurrection stone, the item that will open at the close in the forest. It is a birthday that starts and ends with hints about what little time he has left: the stage is set for an arc that, now, has to end in his own death.

Foreshadowing Ginny and the Forest

Moments foreshadowing the significance of the forest are all over Deathly Hallows. Sometimes, they mirror the moment of his own death; often, they are related to Ginny. When they leave the Ministry, with Ron splinched, clutching the Horcrux locket, they arrive in a forest. For a moment Harry’s heart ‘leaped’ at the thought that they were back in Hogwarts’ grounds, the site of so much of his earlier happiness with Ginny (DH, 221). When the trio hear that Ginny, Neville and Luna tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor, it is the Forbidden Forest they are sent to by Snape as punishment (248-9). Harry does not fear the Forest, and is consoled by the thought of Ginny serving detention there rather than anywhere else.

In the Forest of Dean, the scene where Ron returns begins with Harry thinking of Ginny. He sits at the mouth of the tent, wanting to look for Ginny on the Marauders’ Map, until he remembers it’s Christmastime and she is at the Burrow (297). Later, in a moment that mirrors his later walk to his death, he follows his mother - Snape’s patronus, the doe - into the woods, in order to recover and destroy the Horcrux, inching Harry’s own life closer to its close:

Though the darkness had swallowed her whole, [the doe’s] burnished image was still imprinted on his retinas; it obscured his vision, brightening when he lowered his eyelids, disorienting him. Now fear came: Her presence had meant safety. “Lumos!” he whispered, and the wand-tip ignited. The imprint of the doe faded away with every blink of his eyes as he stood there, listening to the sounds of the forest, to distant crackles of twigs…  He held the wand higher. Nobody ran out at him, no flash of green light burst from behind a tree. Why, then, had she led him to this spot?’ (DH, 299)

Foreshadowing Harry's end in the Forest means also foreshadowing Ginny's own appearance at the moment of his death.

Harry’s ‘death’ in the Forest 

In the final battle, Ginny is the last person Harry sees before he begins his walk into the Forest. He takes the words she says to the child on the ground as her final act of comfort. Harry hears them as if they are being spoken to him: 

‘He was feet away from her when he realised it was Ginny.  He stopped in his tracks. She was crouching over a girl who was whispering for her mother.  ‘It’s all right,’ Ginny was saying. ‘It’s okay. We’re going to get you inside.’  ‘But I want to go home,’ whispered the girl. ‘I don’t want to fight anymore!’ ‘I know,’ said Ginny, and her voice broke. ‘It’s going to be all right.’  Ripples of cold undulated over Harry’s skin. He wanted to shout out to the night, he wanted Ginny to know that he was there, he wanted her to know where he was going. He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home (...) Ginny was kneeling beside the injured girl now, holding her hand. With a huge effort Harry forced himself on. He thought he saw Ginny look around as he passed, and wondered whether she had seen someone walking nearby, but he did not speak, and he did not look back.’ (DH, 558-9)

Harry believes that this is his final moment with Ginny before he goes to die. A part of him wants her to know that it’s happening: he is leaving, at last. But he can't call to her, because he worries she will try and stop him, and he might let her. Instead, he walks on, and doesn’t look back. After watching Ginny comfort the girl crying for her mother, Harry then goes on to the Forest, and summons his own mother, his own family, to walk with him to his death.  

‘His body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, his limbs working without conscious instruction, as if he were passenger, not driver, in the body he was about to leave. The dead who walked beside him through the forest were much more real to him now that the living back at the castle: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as he stumbled and slipped toward the end of his life, toward Voldemort. . . .' (DH, 561-2)

Harry is already preparing to go on from this world: his living loved ones are the ones he now feels furthest from. He stands now with the dead he has summoned, who recognise him and seem to have memories of him. He doesn't fear the dead: he is going to join them.

It’s the death scene itself that I think has subtle, but important parallels with the kiss scene much earlier. In both imagery and in writing style, the scene recalls that earlier moment, where Harry found himself on the edge of another kind of oblivion. There is this mounting, febrile sense of anticipation. There is a tension that is almost sexual, a dynamic injected into the scene through descriptions of Bellatrix’s body language and behaviour towards Voldemort:

‘Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Voldemort’s head.’  (DH, 564)

The ugly parallel of Bellatrix and Voldemort is not supposed to show the pair as the mirror image of Harry and Ginny. Rather, it is a theme that recurs throughout the series to demonstrate the gulf between Harry, with his immense capacity for love, and Voldemort, with none. Bellatrix and Ginny are memorably paralleled twice in the series: once, at the Department of Mysteries, where Bellatrix moves to ‘torture the little girl’, and Harry steps in to prevent her (OotP, 783), and again in the final battle: 

'Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry’s attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch—  He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways…’ (DH, 589)

As Harry waits for the killing curse, we see the most direct parallel with Ginny's final kiss to him:

‘None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his — ’ (DH, 564)

There's such an intense physicality and breathlessness to the whole scene, and an enduring pseudo-sexual tension, with Bellatrix audibly panting. Even the sentence structure even invokes the kissing scene: the run-on build up of clauses, the repetition of the present participle to actively hold the reader in one present moment, building and building and ending on a dash, the promise of something more.

At the end of his life, Harry returns to the memory Ginny gave him. She meant for it to be useful, if he was to go to his death. And at the close of his life he chooses to use it, as he prepares to leave her behind in this world and depart for the next. Just as the Resurrection Stone helped accept death, so too does the memory of Ginny. He feels the memory of her, the sensation of physical touch and of being kissed, the look she gives him that he knows as one of love and great courage. As he is killed, he remembers her last gift to him, the certainty of her love for him impressed upon him.

--

There's a line in OotP that I think is such an underrated line that sums up who Ginny is as a character. Harry is trying to get to Umbridge's fire to speak to Sirius when he thinks the latter is being tortured at the Ministry; Hermione suggests using Ginny and Luna as a distraction, despite Harry's objections:

'Though clearly struggling to understand what was going on, Ginny said immediately, ‘Yeah, we’ll do it,'... (OotP, 736)

This is who Ginny is. It's especially who she is to Harry, during the war. She doesn't fully know what's actually being asked of Harry (and, by extension, what is being asked of her, as the person who loves him, and who has most to lose if he is to die). But even when kept in the dark, she is enormously selfless, and her biggest act of bravery is extremely quiet. She keeps the secret Harry accidentally bestows on her, and she realises, in some sense, before he does, what it will likely mean for his life. She chooses to let him go on, knowing that he is loved, to make the path that he is on a little bit easier, even when she has realised that it will take him away from her for good.

#well that was longer that it needed to be #when in doubt write your way thru ur thoughts #pointing out foreshadowing and gasping is a full time job #justice for the birthday smooch basically #man said: blissful oblivion and also oblivion as in my DEATH #too deep in this to work out if this is even insight at this point #hp analysis #meta #harry/ginny #harry and ginny #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #deathly hallows

[toomuchracket]

ohhh mads i watched pretty woman last night and since then have not been able to stop thinking about d word matty eating girlie out on top of a piano 🥲 that scene definitely did alter my brain

HELLO?! CHRIST!! also pretty woman film of all time i love love love it. anyway. yes. thinking the band and some of the dh crew (so, you) are staying somewhere remote while the new album is being written and recorded, either a house with a studio in it or like a little farm-type place with an external studio or two (this makes perfect sense in my head but idk how to explain it lol); matty stays in the studio by himself late one night, just trying to work some chord structures out at the piano, and because you can't sleep without him if he's around you trudge down to see him at like 1am. naturally, matty's like "sweetheart it's late you should go back to bed", but you shake your head and say "don't want you to be alone this late. i'll just sit on the sofa for a bit though, so i don't bother you", and matty's like "nah, you're here anyway, c'mere" - he settles you on his lap while he plays, and as sleepy as you are you can't help getting a bit hot watching his fingers move across the keys so gracefully. and you also can't help pressing sweet little kisses to his cheek and neck as he does, which makes your boyfriend smile; once he's done, he kisses you properly and says "missed you, darling. s'nice spending time with you like this, i'm sorry i've been too busy to, recently". and you're like "missed you too, baby. kiss?", so yeah you make out sweetly for a little bit and then increasingly less sweetly - matty lifts you, and you think he might carry you to the couch, but instead he sits you on the piano and says "let me taste you, please. miss it. need it, need to make my sweet girl feel good", and as soon as you've nodded once he's tugging your shorts off and your underwear to the side and just going IN. he's fucking starving, moaning into you in between licks and sucks and swirls of his tongue, not stopping until you're clenching your thighs around his head and moaning brokenly through a really intense orgasm. once it's done, matty grins at you and says "think you made the best noises in this room today, princess", and you have to insist on him taking you to bed immediately so you can work on making both of you feel good (i.e. riding him until he cries lol). dreamy <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #smutty asks #d word matty

[cricketnationrise]

Hi!! My prompt:

3:47pm

The lake house on Lake LBJ

Oscar Diaz

Song for vibes: My Way DH by Rascal Flatts

Thank you!!! ❤️❤️❤️

ooooo Oscar was fun to write. note to self, must write more Oscar. anyway i listened to My Wish and immediately had 'dad thinking about his kids' vibes so please enjoy just over 600 words of oscar being happy for his children 💜🦗

read the rest of the ficlets here!

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

3:47pm, lake lbj

It’s a special kind of surreal seeing both his kids in love.

Sure, June may not actually be dating Nora, but that’s a when, not an if, judging by the way Nora half-melts when June smiles at her and the special crinkle of June’s eyes when she watches Nora spout off ridiculous statistics. Oscar hasn’t seen that particular crinkle since June was with Evan. His heart swells with happiness for his oldest every time he spots her and Nora lost in each other’s company or trying to drown each other in the lake or communicating solely through raised eyebrows and quirked lips or when Nora hides her watery eyes when June sings Annie’s Song next to the campfire. They’re practically one brain, one soul even, split across two bodies and it’s stunning to witness.

Sure, Alex may not have admitted to himself that he’s in love with Henry, but Oscar would bet the lake house, his Senate seat, and much more besides, that Alex will figure his shit out soon, because he’s never seen his son like this before. 

Alex has always moved a million miles an hour, always put a ton of pressure on himself, always pushed himself to juggle a seemingly-impossible load. Oscar has seen the dark circles under his eyes when they video chat, has heard the exhaustion in his voice when Alex visits his Senate office, has noted the middle-of-the-night timestamp on one too many emails to think that Alex is completely fine. Oscar recognizes the signs of stress—both from himself and from when he and Ellen lived together—that have been increasing in frequency over the past year.

But lately, and this week in particular, Alex seems settled in his own skin—he’s practically aglow—and not because of the sunshine. Every time he sets eyes on Henry, or makes him laugh, or even just talks about him, Alex lights up. All through prepping the food earlier, Alex had kept glancing out the window, a fond smile on his face at the sight of Henry out on the dock refereeing the girls. Watching his son and Henry interact, it’s like there’s a whole other level of happiness that’s been unlocked. 

Alex’s carefully blank voice when he’d asked if his ‘friend’ Henry could come to the lake house had all of Oscar’s dad instincts sitting up. And his son’s anxious hand wringing when he’d introduced Henry had been enough to tell Oscar that this person was someone special to Alex, even if he’d never indicated he was interested in men before. Their conversation in the kitchen had been an unnecessary, but welcome, confirmation. 

All he’s ever wanted for June and Alex is for them to be safe and happy. The Texas sun shining down only highlights how content his kids are—it looks good on them both—and Oscar is beyond grateful he gets to witness it. He’s always wished for them to dream as big as they wanted to, for them to reach out and gather up all the love they can possibly hold inside. He’s always wanted them to have a comfortable place to land, a secure set of arms to fall into if life knocks them down. He’s always wanted them to know they can fly free, knowing someone loves them unconditionally. And sure, he and Ellen and Leo and all their extended family love Alex and June but— It’s immensely satisfying knowing that the universe has answered Oscar’s wish and led both of his children to their people.

He hopes they’re both brave enough to reach out and gather their loves close, and hang on tight through whatever life throws their way.

#cricket writes #historicallysam #ficlet fest 500 #rwrb #oscar diaz #schmoopy about his kids #as is right and proper

[celestemagnoliathewriter]

question: Do you think that JKR intended a redemption arc for Draco Malfoy?

I ask because I see a lot of posts talking about his failed redemption arc, but to me, it never appeared she was aiming for one. Even up to the very end of Deathly Hallows, he was fighting for Voldemort.

It's just interesting to me, because it seems to me that there was no effort made at all, but a lot of people think there is. It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately. Any thoughts?

This is a great question, anon! I don't think JKR intended a redemption "arc" but rather an almost-redemptive moment. To have a redemption arc, I think, there needs to be, well-- an arc. Severus Snape has a redemption arc. There's a process, a long one, that shows a change in him.

Draco has a moment of mercy, which I really think is cowardice. When he let Harry & co go from Malfoy Manor, I don't think it was because he was particularly courageous, but rather that he felt guilty. That moment of guilt isn't an arc. That guilt is self-serving; he did it for his own 'conscience' rather than for Harry's benefit. I do think that Draco had been traumatized enough to not want to see Voldemort win, and for that reason, let Harry go. Again, it was a self-centered choice, not a "Draco has a deeply buried heart of gold" deal. I hesitate to call this small mercy a redemptive moment, as I don't think it really redeems him. He'd have to have a fundamental change of heart or mind to be redeemed. It's very likely that Harry found redemption in this act, but that's in line for Harry.

Anyway, then, in DH, when the Malfoys desert and Narcissa lies to Voldemort - this is entirely self-serving. There is no arc. The characters stay in character. There is no failed arc because there is no arc at all for any of them.

I do think that Draco's moment of mercy is redemptive, in Harry's eyes, but that's our protagonist. For the purposes of a real world, it's not redemptive, and it's certainly not an arc. I think JKR set up this moment for Harry's benefit but not for Draco's. The story is told from Harry's POV. From his eyes, Draco was redeemed in that moment, but he had nothing like the arc that Snape had, and is ultimately reflected in Harry's naming of his second son.

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter #hp meta #narcissa malfoy #harry potter meta #asks #send asks

[fxlling13]

Lie

Dh!master x fem!reader

Synopsis: the master and the doctor both notice how much you have changed over the past few months. And it worries them.

Warnings: abuse, physical and mental. Injuries, breakdowns, Death, murder. The master kills a man. Victim blaming . Manipulation. Probably more.

Sitting in the console room, the master put his paper down and looked up. The doctor was under the console, trying to improve on something. He honestly didn't care enough to ask. Instead, there was something else on his mind. Sitting forward, he scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"What is it? Because I can hear your brain working from here." The blonde said, not moving from her spot.

"Have you noticed anything off about (y/n)?" Sliding out, the doctor sat up and pulled her goggles off.

"Oh thank god its not just me."

Coming to stand in front of him, she crossed her arms.

"She's been attached to you. It's like everything else scares her." Her observation was indeed correct and whilst the master wasn't complaining, it was worrying.

"She used to be so confident and brave. When did it change?" He asked, looking up at his old friend. She hummed, pacing slightly to try and think clearer.

"I dont think there's any point in being coy, she's obviously the closest to you out of any of us. If anyone can find out, it's you." nodding, the master stood and cracked his neck.

"I'll try my best. Should we go pick everyone up?"

They landed in the usual spot in Sheffield. Yaz was already there, bounding in once the doors were fully materialised. The master almost laughed at how excited she was to see the doctor. Dan was next, on time as usual. Immediately, he began to brag about his date with Diane. Not bothering to listen, the master stood by the door and waited. His fingers tapped against his arm worriedly. Thirty minutes late by this point, he huffed walking back over to the console.

"We could always go forward in time, to the point she arrives?" Yaz suggested but they shook their head.

"I want to see how late she is. You two can go decide on where we go alright?" Agreeing with the doctor, yaz and Dan sat on the steps discussing.

I was practically running down the street. Well, I say running, hobbling would be more accurate. I'd made him really angry this time. Stupid mistake. I shouldn't of mentioned any of my friends. Especially not him, but I couldn't help it. Not when I'd grown so close to the master. He was always there for me, to help me get away from the hell at home. Taking a deep breath, I looked at my phone and saw I was nearly an hour late. They were definitely going to question me. I entered the tardis anyway, a fake smile plastered on my face.

"Ah! (Y/n)!" The doctor cheered, rushing over to me. Giggling, I shut the door to block out the cold. I was only in a thin sweatshirt, even in the winter. Only because he had ripped my clothes to shreds.

"Sorry I'm late. Train was delayed." I lied through my teeth, praying to myself that it was convincing. Grinning, the doctor grabbed my arm and pulled me to the console. I couldn't help but wince, not expecting her to do that. Looking to my side, I saw the master stood there. He was leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets. Jacket discarded and sleeves rolled up, I almost blushed just seeing him. He simpered, coming to my side.

"Have a good few days off?" No. Doing my best to seem happy, I nod and told a few false stories to them.

"Well that's great! Yaz, have you decided where we're going?" The doctor asked, the pair coming to join us. The brunette suggested something and the doc got to work piloting. Suddenly, a hand landed on my shoulder. Out of reflex, I flinched harshly and covered myself from harm. But nothing happened. Lowering my arms, found the master looking at me with worry. I just laughed it off, swallowing down my anxiety.

"Everything alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" I responded way to quickly and I knew he thought that.

"You've got a bruise on your cheek." He pointed out, thumb brushing against it softly.

Oh no. In my rush I obviously forgot to cover it.

"Oh yeah. Funny story that. Walked right onto a door frame." All he did was nod at my fake tale. Slowly, he opened his arms.

"Come here." Not needing to be told twice, I wrapped my arms around his waist and sank into his hold immediately. How could I not fall in love? From the minute he began to travel with us, the master was by my side. He'd put himself before me no matter what.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" Even the way he spoke with me was so soft. So genuine.

"Of course."

Three mad, near death adventures later, we were gathered round the console exhausted.

"So, drop you off to recharge yeah?" My heart dropped at the doctors words but I knew I had no choice. Yaz nod, happy to get some rest. And Dan, well he wanted his girlfriend. All I could focus on was the fact I'd have to see my 'boyfriend' again. No matter how many times I tried to break up, he wouldn't let me go.

"(Y/n)? You okay?" Dan appeared next to me. I jumped, not expecting to hear his voice. He looked confused at my reaction and lifted a hand; probably to touch my shoulder in hindsight. Backing up, I felt my back hit someone's chest. I relaxed, recognising that it was the master.

"I'm fine, sorry. Zoned out." Unconvinced, Dan didn't have time to reply as we landed abruptly. Heading for the door, the doctor stopped me.

"Stay safe." Oh how I wish she knew. But they could never know. Without responding, I left and hurried home.

--------☆

Counting to ten, I took a deep breath then went inside my house. The tv was blaring, some old Hollywood movie. Realising he wasn't there, I made my way to the kitchen. It was a state as usual. Pans piled high, moldy plates and stained glasses. Plus, it stunk of stale food.

"Where have you been?" A slurred voice came from behind me. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

"Answer me!" He yelled, forcing me to turn around. Having me trapped against the counter, my heart rate picked up.

"With my friends." Mistake number one. Rolling his eyes, the taller gripped my wrist so tight, I thought it might break.

"Stop lying! Are you cheating? I bet you are. You're such a whore! Sleeping with every man you lay your eyes on." Whimpering at his accusations, I shook my head fiercely.

"No I swear!" Mistake number two. Chuckling dryly, he sneered.

"Did you just yell at me? Huh, you little bitch." My body began to shake as I knew what was coming. When I said nothing, the drunk male slapped me. I fell to the floor with a thud.

"Let me guess, you were off with that man you told your mother about?" Now internally screaming at myself for talking about the master, I chose to remain silent.

"What's so good about him anyway? I bet he's just some ugly little rat. Could never be a better man than me." Anger boiled beneath the surface. Without thinking, I snapped.

"Dont talk shit about him!" Third mistake. His eyes were vacant and soulless. Saying nothing, he grabbed the wine bottle from the counter and smashed it on the edge. Glass exploded around me as I let out a scream. He held it up, ready to use.

"You're gonna regret that slut."

--------☆

Tuesday couldn't come fast enough, it had been hell these past three days. As soon as the tardis came into view, I rushed in. Everything hurt, everything was sore. I wanted to collapse and never wake up. Everyone looked at me, they all seemed to be staring. Especially the master, who stood straight upon seeing me with his brows knit tight together.

"What?" I asked confused, chest still heaving from my run.

"Your nose is bleeding." Yaz told me. Touching my nose, I found that she was right. The master stepped forward without warning and I yelped, jumping back. He froze, eyes showing clear worry. All at once, everyone moved closer. Not being able to handle all the attention, I rushed past and ran to my room on board. Going into the bathroom, I shut the door before banging my fist against it repeatedly. That man ruined everything. Why couldn't I just be happy? I turned the shower on then peeled off my clothes, it was so painful. None of the wounds were treated and they were all fresh. Stepping into the shower, I slid down the wall and sat there; letting the water run over me.

Back in the console room, everyone stood not knowing what happened. The doctor gave the master a look. He nod then turned to the humans.

"What does (y/n) do at home?" They both shrugged, not having a clue.

"She never talks about it with us. Dodges the subject mostly." Dan admitted. Sighing, the master tried to peice everything together. But, with so little evidence, it was hard. Then it hit him and god, did he hope he was wrong.

"Who does she live with?" He asked, wary of what the answer could be.

"She used to live with her boyfriend." Yaz told him, sitting on the console beside the doctor. The blonde tilted her head.

"Used to?"

"Well, she wanted to break up with him. But she still could I suppose?" Wetting his lips, the master thought over everything. It was about four months ago (for them, not him and the doctor. Time travel and all that.) that this has all started.

"When did she say she wasn't happy?"

"I dunno. Three, four months?" He looked at the doctor to see she was frowning. They were thinking the same thing.

"Go." She said and he didn't need to be told twice. The master ran down to my room, not bothering to inform the other humans. The doctor would do that for him.

Doing my best not to cry, I began to feel numb at the burn against the cuts. I'd dealt with worse. The bathroom door was suddenly thrust open, I screamed and covered myself best I could. In the entrance, the master stood there. It was too late, he'd seen it all. All the damage my body had. Shutting the door, he reached in and turned the water off; grabbing a towel in the process. He crouched in front of me, wrapping the towel around my back. His eyes scanned over every scar, cut and bruise. Without question, he pulled me into his embrace.

"What has he done to you?" Knowing that he'd figured it all out, the floodgates opened and I broke down in his arms.

"Shhh, its okay now. I've got you." Not able to respond, I just cried more. I didn't deserve his time at all, yet here he was.

"How about, we get you dry? I'll take care of your wounds. Then, I'll make sure you're nice and comfortable. Is that okay?" Nodding slowly, the master picked me up and sat me on the counter. He pulled out a clean towel, to replace the now damp one and dried me off very gently. Making sure to pat my skin with great care. After putting on some underwear, the elder disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a med kit. It was silent as he aided all the deep gashes and bruises littered on my skin. Taking my hand in his, he observed the hand shaped bruise on my wrist. It wasn't the worst injury I had, but definitely the most noticeable. I knew for a fact my back was in bad condition along with my stomach.

"He won't get away with this. I swear that. I'm going to throw him in a black hole." That comment made me giggle for the first time in ages. Smirking, the master handed me my fluffy pyjama hoodie and pair of shorts. Actually, they looked more like boxers. Either way, I wasn't complaining and put them on.

"Come on. Bed. You need rest."

"I'm fine-" a stern look cut me off. Of course, I was not fine. Instead, he carried me to my bed and sat me under the duvet.

"I'll be right back." He told me then disappeared. Resting my head back against the headboard, I took a deep breath. What was going to happen now? I was going to end up homeless. All alone. My eyes filled with tears yet again. Once everyone here found out it would be so embarrassing. They'd definitely judge, or laugh. Maybe? My head was a mess at that point.

"Hey, hey. Why are you crying sweets?" Not looking up, I heard the master speak before coming over. Something was placed on my side table, i didn't know what. His arms encased me, moving me so I was sat between his legs and leaning on his chest. I sniffled, hiding myself in his chest sheepishly.

"Talk to me (y/n). I want to help you." He tried but I just couldn't believe him. So, I shook my head at him.

"Please?" Turning myself slightly, I buried my face into his purple vest. My shoulders shook violently. Instantly, he began to rub my back soothingly.

"I hate him." I stuttered out, feeling pathetic.

"Tell me everything. I'm here for you. I'll listen." Taking a deep breath, I pressed myself against the warm male more. Though I found it hard to believe, that he'd actually be interested in listening to me, I wasn't going to pass up the chance to vent.

"It started a few months ago. He'd always been angry, he'd yell when I made mistakes or did something he didn't like. But when he started getting physical, I tried to leave. He didn't like that and he pushed me down the stairs." The masters grip on me immediately tightened after I had said that. Clearly, he was angry but I wasn't scared at all.

"After that, it didn't stop. Every time I forgot something, he'd hit me. If I spoke back, he'd hit me. If I went out alone, if I didn't clean, if I didn't cook. Especially when I spoke about you guys. Everything landed with him getting angry. And he took it out on me.  Every time." I concluded, his vest getting damp from my tears but he didn't mind. Holding my shoulders, the master pushed me back and held me at a comfortable distance.

His thumbs brushed my cheeks dry, a calming look in his eyes. Before he could say anything, I spoke out my own insecurities.

"Now I'm going to be on the streets right? I'm gonna be alone again. I don't want to be alone, please. Please don't leave me alone."

"Shh, come here." Hooking his hands under my arms, the master sat me on his lap properly; head landing in the crook of his neck. Now straddling his thighs, I was much more snug against him and able to hug him tightly. His arms were almost possessive around my waist, but i enjoyed it.

"I am never going to let you be alone. Ever. You're stuck with me. And I promise you, that he will pay." He spoke softly, kissing my cheek soon after. Turning pink, I managed to collect myself a little. My body began to go a little limp in his hold, everything seemingly catching up with me.

"Are you tired?" All I could do was nod at his words, i could tell he wanted me to sleep. But I was scared.

"Can't sleep."

"Why not love?"

"Nightmares." Understanding, the master cupped my cheeks and stared into my eyes.

"Would you like me to help with that." Nodding once again, his lips pressed against my temple and I was out for the count. Once I was asleep, the master tucked me in then stood. For a moment, he pondered what to do then began his journey back to the console room. The doctor looked at him anxiously, clearly wanting to know what happened.

"I want to kill him." He told her directly, alerting both yaz and Dan. They rushed over as he came in front of the doctor. She inhaled deeply, staring at him with intent.

"Its bad?"

"Its worse than you can imagine. Tell me no or else I'm going to kill him." Quickly, the blonde started to fly her ship. Rushing around the console, she flicked different levers and pushed the right buttons. The tardis landed with a thud.

"Where are we?" The master asked, forehead lined with frustration. All those pent up feelings weren't good for the mind.

"Outside (y/n)s House." She went over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Get him." Their eyes went wide in shock. The doctor was actually giving him permission to kill him. Not needing to be told twice, the master grabbed his jacket and rushed out.

Just waking up from a black out, the unsuspecting male stumbled into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of wine. Suddenly, the door slammed behind him, causing him to jump and drop the drink. He turned and saw the outline of another man in the shadows. Out came the master, arms folded tightly. Backing up, the human was utterly confused.

"What are you doing in my house?" He slurred, eyes going up and down repeatedly. Chuckling, he walked closer and unfolded his arms, revealing a dagger in his fist. Immediately, the man sobered up and swallowed thickly.

"What's your name?" The master asked, not sparing him a glance.

"Michael." Nodding, he took another step closer as Michael began shaking.

"Hello Michael. You're going to come with me." Of course, he complied and followed the master out and into the tardis. Once on board, he was in a state if shock. But the master payed this no mind and began to fly the tardis skillfully. Once he was happy with the place they were adrift, he stalked back over.

"Before you die- and believe me, you really are going to die- tell me. What pleasure did you get out of hurting (y/n)?" Michael's face went sour, realisation setting in. He scoffed and looked away.

"Is that what all this is about? That stupid girl. For fuck sake!" Raising his brows, the master watched in amusement, as the human had his tantrum.

"What bullshit has she been spewing now? All she does is lie! Even made up some guy with a dumb name. Just to pretend anyone would actually give a fuck about her! I never hurt her! She's just pathetic." He told him, rolling his eyes afterwards. It was silent for a second before he began again and, as you can imagine, the rage was growing tenfold inside the timelord.

"I did not hurt her! Never. God she's infuriating. Are you just going to stand there? Looking at me as if I'm stupid, it's unnerving." Michael asked, making the master shake his head with a slight pout.

"No you carry on. You're only making your death more painful." The look in his eyes was that of ice and he felt his blood go cold. It finally set in. Whoever this man was, he was being serious.

"Why do you care so much?" Ignoring the question, the master tutted quietly and lead him to the doors.

"This 'guy with a dumb name'? What did she call him?"

"Uh- The master I think. Why does that matter? Who even are you?" A smirk grew on his lips, gazing at the male with a murderous glint in his eye.

"Well, I'm not made up. That much, I'll tell you." Clicking in, Michael looked extremely confused and took a step away.

"You're the master? You're real? So she was cheating! That little bitch! When I get my hands on her I'm going t-" Instantly, the dagger was pressed to his throat, cutting him off. The master pushed him against the closed door, teeth gritted together. 

"You really are thick." He laughed out but wasn't happy even in the slightest. Michael let out a strangled breath, staring at him in fear.

"Never hurt someone I love. It won't end well for you." Gripping the back of his shirt, he opened the doors to reveal looming darkness.

"What's that?"

"That, stupid human, is a black hole." The master muttered, taking the dagger away from his neck. Without a second thought, he impaled Michael's waist. He cried out but the master didn't care. Instead, he drew him in closer and spoke into his ear.

"Enjoy your time in hell." With that final statement, he was thrown out into the void, tardis doors shutting behind him. Resting his head against the doors, he let out a breath. At least he knew this therapy was working. The master didn't get half as much joy as he used to. But he didn't regret it. Not at all. Feeling a hand land on his shoulder, he turned to see the doctor. She had a sympathetic smile.

"Go. She needs you." He smiled, nodding in recognition before heading back down to my room. Finding I was still asleep, he took off his shoes, jacket and waist coat, before slipping in on the free side. Carefully, he pulled me closer and relaxed as I subconsciously attached myself to him. Maybe even he could fall asleep like this.

Groggy, my eyes forced themselves open. Going to move, I found myself under something- or someone- weighted. Looking to my left, I found the master. He's was sleeping. That was odd, he never slept. Taking this opportunity, I sunk back down and buried my face into his chest. It was warm and safe.

My movements must have woke him as he stirred a moment later. His hands tightened on my waist and I quickly hid my face in his shirt.

"That doesn't make you invisible you know?"

Turning red, I gazed up at him.

"You were asleep."

"No I wasn't."

"Was." It went silent. Just staring at each other until he gave in. Casting his eyes to the beams on the ceiling, the master spoke.

"Maybe I was." I smiled and tried to adjust, get more comfortable.

"You never sleep." Carefully, the male pulled me further onto his chest, a hand still encasing the dip of my waist.

"No, I just can't sleep. There's a difference, love." Ignoring how my blush grew, I allowed myself to bask in his warmth. It felt nice. It fight oddly right. To be there, in his arms. A man I was once told to fear, to avoid at all cost. He now lay here holding me as if I could disappear. Mind starting to catch up, I suddenly remembered just how I got in this situation.

"What did you do? When I was asleep?" I asked, looking up at the master with wonder. He rolled his head against the pillow, eyes scanning my face. A hand traced the bruise on my cheek tentivley, a tense sigh breathing by his lips.

"Do you want the truth, right now? I don't want to upset you." Our eyes locked and I nod surely, letting him know I could handle the truth.

"I took Michael. I listened to his shitty lies. I let him talk, let him grow scared. Though, I could have done it for longer but I was too angry." He started, glaring up at nothing in particular. Sensing his growing anger, I reached forward and laced our fingers together. The master looked at our hands, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"I stabbed him. I threw him into a black hole. He's in a million pieces now. Floating through space. Dead." Maybe he was expecting me to recoil in fear, or give him a lecture. Instead, I sat up with a smile. I leant down and kissed his cheek, causing his eyes to widen in the process.

"Thank you. For saving me." Even if my voice was quiet, the master grinned and sat himself up as well.

"You don't have to thank me doll. I'd do it again in a heart beat." Pushing back the covers, the master got himself up.

"Wait right here." Then, he rushed out, leaving me alone. I smiled to myself, going to the bathroom. After doing what needed to be done, I washed my hands and looked in the mirror. As much as I loved my hoodie, I pulled it off and felt more comfortable. Seeing as I was wearing a sports bra, I turned and head back into my room. It wouldn't matter, I could throw a tshirt on if the master was uncomfortable. Crawling back onto my bed, I sat on my knees and grabbed my phone. Finally, I deleted Michael's number and hovered over my photo gallery. Once I have clicked on it, my heart dropped at all the cold memories stored there. They hurt to see. So caught up in my phone, I didn't hear the door open. The master looked up and froze, eyes raking over my figure. Quickly, he shook those thoughts away and came to my side, gently placing two mugs down on the bedside table.

"What are you doing?" He asked, moving so my back was flush to his chest. I showed him my phone screen, all the photos now highlighted.

"I'm deleting all of it." Nodding, the master watched as I did so and noticed how my eyes grew sad at the now black screen.

"Dont be upset, love. Its over now." Gently, he pulled me between his legs, resting back against the pillows. My body followed his, relaxing against him.

"I made you tea." Carefully, he handed me a steaming cup of tea. I took it gratefully, blowing the steam in effort to cool it. For a while, we sat there, drinking tea whilst I listened to a few of his stories. I loved hearing about his and the doctors childhood. It sounded almost magical. Whilst the master was speaking, I looked up and found myself staring at the alien. At least now I didn't have to feel guilty about my feelings. Not that I ever did, it's not like I wanted to be either Michael in the end. The cup, now empty, was taken from my grasp, knocking me out of my daydream. The master grinned down at me, brushing his fingers through my hair.

"What's with that look?"

"What look?" I asked, eyes never leaving him. Chuckling, he let out a sigh before moving his free hand down to my waist.

"I should have tortured him more. He deserved it." His fingers danced around the bruise on my stomach, light touches almost making me shiver.

"It doesn't matter now." Still, I could see it was bothering him.

"He was never a good boyfriend, even before the really bad times." The master never stopped his hand from moving, giving me full attention.

"How so?"

"He never showed me love. I could never hold his hand, or hug him. He never kissed me. I was just an accessory to him." I explained, frowning at the memory.

"Over a year of neglect. Maybe that's all I'm worth." Immediately, the master whipped his head to look me right in the eyes. It almost made me flinch.

"Absolutely not. That man was an absolute idiot. A waste of space." He seethed, inhaling sharply afterwards.

"I would never treat you like that. I would never let you go. I'd-" We both froze as he slowly realised the weight of the words he just spoke.

"I mean. Hypothetically." The master slightly stuttered. My mouth was parted, blinking in the informed.

"I would treat you better anyone. Because that's what you deserve." A smile grew on my lips, listening as the; usually calm male, fumbled with his words.

"Not that you would be interested. Now or ever. But I'm just-" Giggling, I kneeled up, gripping his collar and pressing his lips against mine. Initially surprised, the master held onto my waist and melted into the kiss soon after. Pulling back, I was taken aback when the male pulled me into his chest. My head rested against his shoulder comfortably.

"If I'd have known that the feeling was mutual, I'd have taken you away from him much sooner." The master stroked the top of my hair, pressing a kiss to my temple lovingly. Simpering, I nuzzled in closer.

"You're here now. That's all that matters." And that was the truth. From then on, everything would get better. As long as he was by my side.

#doctor who #doctor who x y/n #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master #sacha dhawan #dh!master

[clotpolesonly]

What are your Dark Heir theories?? I'm sooo curious to see what happens

it's so so hard to predict where anything is gonna go from here, i'm honestly STUMPED, adlfkhj

i have a couple of thoughts and i do not know how plausible they actually are, but

-- i think that Edmund Creen was behind the plot to switch Will and Katherine as children. possibly. i might be crazy, but i feel like somebody had to have orchestrated all of that, and somebody had to sent that servant from the very beginning to tell Will about the Stewards. the servant claimed that Will's mother sent him, but she KNEW that Will was NOT blood of the lady. she knew that he was not the savior they were looking for. she wanted Will dead, she wanted the world protected from him, and she would not have sent anyone to take him to the Hall. right?? but someone had to do that. i feel like Edmund is gonna be the chess master, the spider at the center of the web, pulling all the strings to orchestrate exactly what he wants to happen in a con that he's been running for almost two decades.

-- i think it's possible that Katherine might not be dead, or could be resurrected. if i recall correctly, her death by the corrupted blade didn't resemble the deaths from the beginning of the book when it was unsheathed. those were more sickness, like they were rotting from the inside out or something, and they just died. but Katherine was petrified. she essentially turned to stone. like the tree at the Hall. the tree that Elizabeth brought back to life with her touch. i'm JUST SAYING. it's within the realm of possibility.

-- i think, and this might just be wishful thinking on my part cuz i love angst, but I THINK that at some point in the series (maybe or maybe not in book 2) James will get collared. i don't know if Will will be the one to do it or what the circumstances would be, but Pacat cannot possibly just dangle that in front of us without following through on the fucked up promise of it, and i think he has the balls to do it. no idea how anyone would come back from it, but COME ON, GIMME THAT, I NEEEED IT.

-- i think that James genuinely doesn't know who Will is. we don't have confirmation one way or the other in the text yet, but we already got the surprise twist of "i knew all along actually" in Captive Prince. i don't think Pacat would retread that ground, and the sheer horror and betrayal of James finding out too late what he's done, what Will knowingly allowed him to do, what Will may or may not have intentionally led him to do, will be fucking delicious.

-- i think we'll be introduced to the 4th King or a descendant of him in DH. Pacat said that his favorite character in the series would be introduced in this book, and i think it's very possible it will be this person. the lost 4th king was said to return when their need was greatest, or something like that, and i expect DH to get pretty fucking dire, if we know anything about Pacat's narrative structure where trilogies are concerned 😂 also just more Reborns in general. it was said or implied that the Dark King killed a lot of his people intending for them to be reincarnated with him, but we've only gotten the one so far in James (two if we count the horse, which i do uwu), so i'm hoping/expecting to get more of them.

-- i think we'll get some kind of insight into the past. how much, i'm not sure, if Will and James will get clear memories of their entire past lives or if they'll get muddled flashbacks and feelings. we don't know how strong the buried past might be, if the whole personality/identity is in there waiting to take over or if it's something subtler. i'm hoping for subtler myself. there's a lot of possibilities, but i expect we'll start getting some answers and a lot of complications, and i'm looking forward to seeing what direction Pacat goes with it all.

#and the answer is #Anonymous #Dark Rise #Dark Heir #Dark Rise spoilers

[starlingflight]

Girl, Star, I NEED CHAPTER 13 OF SOMEONE ELSE'S LIFE! Especially with where you left us off in chapter 12! Snippets are not enough, I need the full chapter as soon as possible! What's the latest you think you can post the 13th?

First of all, it makes me stupidly happy that anyone even cares where chapter 13 is so thank you 🥰

Short answer - my husband is working late tomorrow night so I'm hoping (confident?) I can use all the interrupted time to get 13 (& maybe 14 but that's ambitious) up before Friday!

Long answer - here's the situation:

I went back to work on Monday, and they expect me to do stuff??? Rude, I know.

That said, the main reason for the delay is I have been STRUGGLING with Harry. I've really had to dive into who I think he is as an adult who's matured since DH and is now a competent (imo) Auror, but also a protective husband and godfather, and how that effects his actions and responses to the situation we saw him in at the end of Chapter 12.

I'm actually on my third rewrite of the chapter and he's reacted differently every single time. I think I have it now, and the rest of the chapter is flowing quite nicely. I have two people to thank for that, both of whom have listened to me ramble about Harry's characterisation with patience and wise insights that have been invaluable, @lanaturnergetup and @merlinsbudgiesmugglers you are the best!

I hope this is satisfying! If not, I might be persuaded for another snippet if I can find one that's not too spoiler-y!

#hinny #harry x ginny #answered asks

[no-light-left-on]

since the leaks about a possible dh3 I've been thinking about the possible ways this could go both aesthetically and tech-wise because after all style and development in technology go hand in hand

while I have no idea how the story could continue after DotO, that game serving as a beautiful wrapup of the whole story for all the main characters, there were some Things in the series that I would be curious to see explored further and see where they might lead

the thing that sticks out in my mind the most is the voltaic gun that Billie uses. there is months separating DH2 and DotO, yet the weapon technology already feels so much more advanced in such a short time skip than it does between the first and second game. energies and electricity play such a central role in both games (the whaling industry, the laws limiting the amount of whale oil, the wind corridors of Karnaca-) I'm curious to see where that would go, along with further exploration of the weapons themselves. there is the obvious matter of What Do They Do With Energy Sources (something something Tyvia being very Slavic something something coal mining)

there's also silvergraphs and where That might go - honestly would love to see the early stages of cinema in the next game. silvegraph cameras becoming more compact, the impact it might have on journalism but also possibly on the characters who could carry them around, the technology even leaking into a non-lethal takedown of a target, or if you want something more Wholesome, the MC and their closest allies taking photos together.

as of the overall Style and Fashion, this is a wholly self indulgent matter. while the fashion was always late victorian/edwardian with slight influences from the corresponding time period (late romantic in the first game and 1850s in the second one), the games are slowly approaching the first world war in its fashion influence and I for one would be all for it. the tall collars and unusual cuts would fit right in with the world much more than late 1850s/1860s ever could and would make the world stand out much more. I could go on a full rant about how WWI fashion is the perfect direction for DH to go in

#li.txt #dishonored #these are just a couple main thoughts that have been on my mind that I wanted to put into words for a while #also 1860s are boring af when it comes to fashion sorry not sorry make emily dress like its 1915 #these are just some insane ramblings but like. Im opening a conversation here #the voltaic gun billie uses made something click in my techie brain #its like a whole new world opening up as the series ends

[thefrontofmymind]

Heyyyy, could you do a instagram blurb with matty healy and Ellie from Wolf Alice plssss? Love your work!! 💜

matty healy x musician!reader IG blurb

FC: Ellie Rowsell

a/n: sorry for getting to this so late!! i've had a busy couple months xx

yninstagram SUMMER SONICCC I LOVE YOUUUUUU

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ynfan1 mother looking so mother

ynfan2 the bEST festival i’ve ever been to!! xxx

ynfan3 Dirty Hit honestly has the best artists…

ynfan4 So excited to see you in october!!!

1975updates matty via yninstagram’s story!!

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1975fan1 its so nice that all the dh artists are buddies!!

1975fan2 MATTYYY RELEASE THE CURLSSS THEYRE SUFFOCATINGG

1975fan3 so fit

ynupdates old photo of YN with Matty Healy (and Alana Haim) from around 2016 i think??

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ynfan1 cute!!!

ynfan2 WHEN is the collab coming??? It would be FIRE

ynfan3 do i ship them?? Kind of

>ynfan4 me too bestie lowkey

yninstagram can someone walk my dog when i’m on tour? thanks xxx

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ynfan1 HOTTTT

ynfan2 step on me

ynfan3 WAIT WHO IS THAT???

>ynfan4 RIGHT?? 

yninstagram bye bye kitchen. i’ll miss u

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ynfan1 can’t wait to see you in Berlin!!

ynfan2 obsessed with this fit

trumanblack dw i’ll water the plants

>1975fan1 MATTY WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE

ynfan3 whats with the mirror in the kitchen

>yninstagram she’s a narcissist of a room, its for her health

yninstagram hello paris here we go

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ynfan1 so pretty!!

ynfan2 YN LIVING MY DREAM EATING CROISSANTS IN PARIS

ynfan3 when are lines starting for the paris show??

>ynfan4 the venue is letting us line up from 6am!!

yninstagram THANK YOU EUROPE! I cannot believe how amazing the past couple months have been for me, I could never dream of meeting so many of you wonderful people and playing my songs from the heart. I’m going to have a little rest but I promise something new is on the way, just be a little patient. Xx

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ynfan1 MISS YOUUU

ynfan2 so excited!! Get some rest!!

trumanblack fit.

>1975fan1 MATTY

yninstagram summer 22. love.

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ynfan1 LOOOVVVEEE

ynfan2 WHO is the guys voice in the second video??? Can’t tell

>ynfan3 it could literally be anyone, someone from her band or just a friend

charli_xcx looking gorg!!

>yninstagram thank you babyyyy

yninstagram happy halloween. if only i could find a romeo…

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ynfan1 I VOLUNTEER

ynfan2 how is someone so perfect???

trumanblack oh if only…

ynfan3 not me having the same costume this year…

yninstagram hotel rooms. the new EP out jan 13.

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ynfan1 NEW MUSIC YESSSS

ynfan2 already pre-saved!!!

charli_xcx you go babe!!

ynfan3 CANT WAIT THAT LONG

trumanblack it’ll be a killer.

>yninstagram ok mr producer if you say so

nme YN talks inspiration on new EP, tour life in a post-pandemic world and backstage rituals!

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ynfan1 hmmm i wonder who she was talking about with all the love songs on the ep??

>ynfan2 I KNOW!!! With all the talk of long distance,,,im intrigued

1975fan1 all the compliments of matty bc he worked on the album…lowkey ship it

yninstagram hotel rooms EP is out now. Thank you for all the love. Thank you Matty for helping make it happen. I couldn’t ask for a better collaborator. Xx 

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1975fan1 RIP trumanblack you would have loved a shoutout

ynfan1 I CRIEDDDD IT WAS SO SWEET

ynfan2 PLEASE TELL ME THERES A NEW ALBUM SOON

>yninstagram ;)

1975fan2 oh yeah she’s totally dating matty

yninstagram what did the easter bunny say when he was hopping around? hoppy easter!

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ynfan1 happy easter yn!!

charli_xcx pretty pretty pretty baby!!

>yninstagram no you!

ynupdates “I wrote this EP on the road, about how much you’re…not being yourself, not living your real life…I miss my real life…I miss my boyfriend…” -YN tonight in Japan. She seemed really upset, I hope she’s okay.

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ynfan1 poor yn :((

ynfan2 I was there, everyone was just so quiet i felt so bad for her…

ynfan3 glad this is her last show for a while so she can have a break.

1975updates tonight YN was in the crowd at the band’s show. She was in front of the barricade for most of it and during Robbers Matty went down to her and kissed her. If I’m honest I’m just in shock.

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1975fan1 omgomgomgomg i love them together!!!

1975fan2 WHEN will it be MY TURN

ynfan1 oooh this must’ve been what she was so upset about

#matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy blurb

[fanfic-lover-girl]

How Harmione Parallels Kataang

So I was reading snippets from Deathly Hallows, including the Harry & Harmione scenes after Ron left, and I noticed how much this non-canon ship is similar to the travesty that is Kataang.

It wasn't going to be as detailed or long as my Makorra vs Kataang post above but the thoughts just flowed.

Unequal Give and Take in the Relationship

Like Katara, Hermione gives way more than Harry to their friendship. Harry and Aang are the receivers usually. We never see Aang truly empathize with Katara when it comes to her mother and her darker side. When Harry sees Hermione breaking down in tears in DH, he literally just looks at her or ignores her crying when they sleep at night. Hermione on the other hand gives Harry hugs and pep talks whenever he is raging or sad. Harry is the exact same way with Ginny, by the way, his one true love (roll my eyes).

The instant they arrived Hermione dropped Harry’s hand and walked away from him, finally sitting down on a large rock, her face on her knees, shaking with what he knew were sobs. He watched her, supposing that he ought to go and comfort her, but something kept him rooted to the spot.

Motherly Vibes in the Relationship

ATLA literally had an episode where Katara pretended to be Aang's mom. Katara acts as the motherly figure in the group. In the Runaway episode, Katara acts like a nagging, mood-killer and Aang reacts to her like a mom when she scolds his posture. I recently posted about Aang's first earthbending lessons and how Katara was acting like a helicopter mom in those scenes. Hermione is not as motherly, thank goodness, but Hermione, like Katara, is posed as the boring, nagging friend. Harry does not enjoy her company as much as Ron's due to this nagging. He lies to her and avoids her due to her nagging. Whenever Harry is confused or emotional about something, I notice JKR usually uses the word "gently" to describe how she speaks to Harry. I notice Hermione is a lot more gentle and caring towards Harry compared to Ron a lot. She gives Harry tips on how to date Cho and coaches him on female nature. Like Katara, Hermione is the one who cooks and does the food shopping/stealing (well she did leave money at the coop and the muggle store so it is still stealing??) in their glorified camping trip. Even though Harry should know how to cook.

Threat of Violence/Intimidation

Katara is always the one who has to bear the danger of Aang's avatar state to calm him down. While Sokka and Toph run away in the desert episode, Katara is the only one left to approach Aang in this volatile state. It's not fair that Katara is forced to shoulder this burden alone. Also, I saw an avatar comic where Aang literally lavabends right in front of Katara in a tantrum when she tells him to practice firebending (it could be earthbending instead but the point stands). As for Hermione, Harry is not much better. You see this behaviour especially when it comes to Hagrid. Whenever Hermione has common sense and expresses annoyance about Hagrid, Harry often intimidates her to comply with his beliefs. I recall Hermione being frightened by Harry a lot. What a great friend. Not to mention when Harry went on his rage rampage in book 5, terrorizing Ron and Hermione. I don't care how much supposed PTSD Harry has. I understand things are rough for him, but that gives him no right to bully his friends and unleash his rage on them, especially Hermione.

Emotional Manipulation

For Katara, Aang was emotionally manipulative in Southern Raiders. He unfairly compares Katara's want for justice to Jet who tried to murder innocent people. He compares losing his pet to Katara losing her mother. Anyone who compares an animal to a human being is an idiot. Not sorry. Even at the end of the episode, he is still pushing forgiveness on her. As a Christian, I believe in forgiveness but someone should not force or guilt you into forgiveness. Harry is a bit more...messy to explain. He has used his parents' murder to guilt trip Hermione and Ron. For example, in book 1 when they were doing the magical puzzles to catch up to Moldy Voldy. The reason why I label this as emotional manipulation is because unless the plot calls for it, Harry does not care about his parents. Unless he wants something from someone. He is perfectly willing to use his dead parents to try to get Slughorne to give him the memory for Dumbles in book 6. He has a photo album he almost never looks at. He never talks much to Remus and Sirius about his parents. He never visits their grave until freaking book 7! So yeah, him using his dead parents to guilt trip Hermione, and Ron too, is 100% emotional manipulation. Also, Harry regularly uses the silent treatment or ostracization to guilt-trip people into apologizing to him. Even when he bears responsibility for the conflict. We see this with Ron, Seamus and yes Hermione. Hermione tries to protect Harry in book 3 when Sirius sends Harry that broom, and Harry, and Ron, punish her for this by ignoring her. For how long? At least a few weeks. How anyone sees the golden trio as a good friend group is a total mystery.

Selfishness / Lack of Empathy

This is kind of related to the first and fourth sections. For Aang, he is selfish when it comes to Katara. In season 3, he does not respect Katara's boundaries and gives her non-consensual kisses twice. In Ember Island Players, he nods along at the dialogue about Katara being the "avatar's girl" indicating that he is possessive of her. All he cares about is his crush and he does not care about Katara's feelings about her confusion and her desire to wait after the war to deal with romance. Aang never tries to appreciate her water tribe culture beyond the pilot episode. To the point where Tenzin completely ignores his water tribe heritage. Unlike Katara's other love interests (Jet and Haru), when Katara tries to empathize with Aang about the death of the airbenders, he never offers any recognition of Katara's loss and instead just tries to deny the airbenders are gone. Even in the northern water tribe, Aang makes Katara's anger at Pakku about HIM. Aang fails to recognize that she is fighting because of the injustice and sexism being done to HER and she's fighting for HERSELF. Aang sees how his friends lost their father figures in the invasion and in the next episode he does not care. Or at least he does not care enough to take their concerns about the next steps in the war seriously and goofs off instead. Enough of about Kataang, how does Harmione measure up?

Like Aang, Harry is very self-centered. Every time his birthday comes around he expects to be treated like a king and have his birthday be acknowledged by everyone. When he believes people have forgotten, he gets upset and pouty. Ron and Hermione's birthdays are mentioned only once I believe. Ron in book 6 and Harmione in book 5 or 6. He gives Ron a present for his bday. But what about Hermione? Zilch, nada. Hermione explicitly mentions her birthday in the text and I can't recall him giving her anything. I did a quick google search and I can't find squat! The dude makes a big stink about his birthday every year and can't even have the decency to reciprocate. I mention Harry's lack of empathy already in section 1. And it not only applies to Hermione but everyone. Including Ginny. If you really look at Harry, everything revolves around him. Harry shows very little appreciation for Hermione practically doing his homework for him. There is also a weird thing where Harry thinks to himself that he acts as a mediator for Romione but his actions show the opposite. When Ron and Hermione fight, he stays out of it and finds the whole thing annoying. Or even worse, when Hermione is feeling affectionate with Ron, Harry has a 'what about me' attitude.

Hermione was watching Ron fret over the fate of the Cattermoles, and there was such tenderness in her expression that Harry felt almost as if he had surprised her in the act of kissing him. ‘So, have you got it?’ Harry asked her, partly to remind her that he was there.

Secrecy

Both Aang and Harry hide things from their "love interest". Harry hides the fact that he was not practising his occlumency. Not only that, he actively tries to probe his connection with Moldy Voldy against Hermione's warnings. Several times he purposely hides house elf matters from Hermione, despite knowing how much she allegedly cares about the elves. For example, when he learns Slughorne is using elves to test his drinks for poison one of his first thoughts is to not tell Hermione. I don't even think Harry has a once of empathy or concern for the elves being abused like this. When Harry is fighting in the triward tournament, Hermione constantly nags him to prepare for his tasks and asks about his progress. If Harry was not such a nitwit, he would have asked Hermione for her help and she would have offered it. But instead, he lies to her and brushes her off. Aang hides Bato's map so that Katara and Sokka will not leave him for their father. At least Aang owns up to his lies. However, I do not believe Aang is fully honest about his avatar state situation after season 2. I think he tells them that he can't go into the state but I do not recall him ever revealing WHY. This inability could have cost them the war. What if there were no conveniently placed rock in the finale? Would Aang's avatar state be locked forever??

Conclusion

That's it from me. Both Kataang and Harmione are ships that lack proper respect, chemistry, maturity and trust. The girls give more to the relationship than the guys and the guys don't have any appreciation or care for their interests. Both these relationships are better off staying platonic. And even as a platonic relationship, they are still problematic. None of these kids are evil (not even horrid Harry) but these people need to either date other people and/or have some more emotional development.

Harmione is not a good ship. Harmione fans can claim how much better Harmione is than Romione and act superior all they want in the Romione vs Dramione war (all three ships are trash), but as far as I am concerned, both Hermione and Harry need serious help before they can date anyone. It's ironic really. Hermione mistreats towards Ron but then Harry turns around and mistreats her AND Ron. Harry makes it clear who's king in the golden trio. What karma. Poor Hermione.

If you want a better, more comprehensive meta on why Harmione does not work as a ship, check out this lovely gem of an essay. Have a great day!

#harmione parallels with kataang #anti harmione #harmione critical #kataang critical #anti kataang #harry james potter #hermione granger #katara #aang #kataang vs harmione #atla #harry potter series #harry potter #unhealthy relationships #anti romione #anti hinny #anti harry james potter #anti aang #katara deserved better #hermione deserves better #never thought I would defend hermione so much in a post #hermione granger critical #unequal relationship #emotional manipulation #secrecy #lack of empathy #violence and intimidation #aang critical #harry and hermione are not shippable characters #i don't like ginny but she honestly deserves better than harry

[jiamour]

💿 now playing: pushin’ n pullin’

povs: 💗-yn, 🖤-js, 💛-rj, 💙-jn, 🧡-mk, 💜-dh, ❤️-jm, 💚-

track 31: jobless monday

guitarist!jisung x reader

a/n: a jeno psyche introspection update :]

a/n: everyone in this au dissociated when they’re overwhelmed in their own way bcs they’re all just like me

tw// dissociation, derealization, depression, anxiety, mentions of past suicidal ideations, arguments, mark doesn’t let go of jeno when he asks him to, not suggestive but jeno spends a considerable amount of time on his knees and has an oral fixation, this was written for me and me only

word count: 4.2k

album tracklist

soundtrack: jobless monday - mitski, the cut that always bleed - conan gray

jeno is tired. mondays are always like this, he has a lecture at 11am followed by a 4 hour lab at 5pm. these are both mandatory credits that gave no other scheduling options just to ensure that he, personally, wouldn’t be able to eat lunch or dinner at his usual times, he was sure of this.

jeno just wants to graduate. they curse their younger self sometimes for choosing a 5 year program, but other times they’re grateful. jeno’s scared of graduating, they’re scared of the real world, job searching, the fact that they’re directionless and that they can’t keep putting off answering questions about what they plans to do with their life, what they plan to do in the future, because now they’re in the future and they’ve still got nothing.

sometimes, they just want to turn their thoughts off. which is what they thought their zoloft prescription was for but apparently they only takes those to feel chronically fatigued and sweaty.

jeno often feels like he lives entirely inside his mind, which is a funny thing to say because of course he does, everyone does. but he swears it’s different, he feels like the truest form of himself is trapped in a mental cavern where he sits and observes the physical world. a world that he can never truly reach or interact with, it’s far away and blurry around the edges like a vignette.

at night, when he’s alone and it’s dark and quiet, it’s like he’s not even corporeal. he can be anywhere but usually he finds himself traveling back to his childhood bedroom and it’s like he’s really truly there in every sense but physical. he has to blink himself out of it after a few minutes to prevent the unreality from completely overtaking him. he turns on his phone flash light and takes in what’s real, the overpriced uni hoodie he stole from mark that hangs over his desk chair, the pile of textbooks he needs to resell, the dying plant he hasn’t watered in weeks. he wills himself to be there, be present.

jeno finds himself following a routine, which he likes most of the time, he thinks. or maybe he doesn’t. jeno’s not quite sure what he likes. he’s not quite sure who he is at all actually. but jeno thinks he likes routines because routines mean he’s going ‘home’, or atleast a home away from home, marks apartment.

they know when they get there it will be just like any other day. mark will acknowledge their entrance with a nod not even pointed in their direction, if they’re lucky maybe they’ll be granted a mumble of greeting or a fleeting glance. jeno will kiss his cheek, maybe play with his fingers for a while, but eventually they’ll always end up sat alone at the end of mark’s bed silently playing games on their phone or texting jaemin to ease their boredom.

mark will join them around 1am every night, when jeno has already made their way up the bed and under the blankets. jeno will be just barely awake, holding on just because they swore they wouldn’t fall asleep without mark there beside them.

this stubborn “rule” has been holding on strong for about a year now, having started when jeno found mark still awake after 2 and a half days, trying to finish a paper early. that evening they stand beside marks desk, arms crossed, until late hours into the night. they remember practically falling asleep on their feet but refusing to move without mark taking a break and joining them. eventually, when jeno practically flops on top of his keyboard and rubs at their sleep filled eyes with the sleeve of their hoodie, marks hoodie, mark caves.

right now, he’s on his way home, alone. his hand reaches out instinctively when he goes to cross the street but no one grabs on. he knows it’s dumb and maybe childish but mark always holds his hand out for him when they’re around busy intersections. the emptiness reminds him of everytime mark forgets. jeno would reach his hand out and no one would hold on, he’d look to the side and see mark smiling as he texts someone on his phone.

“hey!” a voice yells out from behind him when the cross walk signal blinked to a walk. he jumps back, head whipping back and forth checking for cars that may have ran the light, but none came.

“hey,” the voice says again, closer this time, jeno turns begging themself not the shake, so the stranger doesn’t know they’re panicking over crossing the fucking street, “you’re marks partner, right?”

“yeah,” they respond, willing their natural charisma to take hold and do the talking for them, “i’m jeno.”

“perfect! could you give this to him? i haven’t been able to catch him in forever,” the stranger hands jeno a file without waiting for an answer, “and tell him to text me back!”

“okay,” jeno smiles a fake smile, “i’ve got to get home but it was nice to meet you.”

“you too man,” the boys already turning around and jeno has to cross the street again, the file shaking in his hands.

jeno loves going home to mark, even if he doesn’t get any of the attention he craves, even if he doesn’t get a second of intamacy. jeno loves mark, he has to love mark, it makes him feel stable and grounded somewhere. he likes having that role assigned to him, he likes being “marks partner”, it makes him feel like he has purpose, he has direction. he finds it a bit nerve wrecking to think about losing that part of himself but it is a bit scary in general to have such an integral part of your identity be tied to another person who you feel is slowly falling more and more out of love with you.

but if mark needs them to be more loveable then they’ll become more loveable! just not tonight. tonight, jeno is tired. tonight, they’ll appreciate the fraction of mark that they get because that’s just how things are.

jeno enters marks room and quietly closes the door behind themself and place their backpack against the wall. mark doesn’t acknowledge them once, just chews on his nicotine gum in silence, it’s one of those nights.

he wants to make a scene. he wants to make a stance. he’s gonna march straight into bed and ignore mark as well! that’ll teach him! but when jeno thinks rationally he knows mark won’t even notice and he’ll just end up feeling more upset.

so jeno goes up to his partner, ready to give him an earful about lack of quality time and appreciation. but jeno is tired. so, instead he droops lazily to his knees, right beside marks gaming chair. without looking down, mark shifts the chair back slightly, ushering jeno between his legs, almost under his desk. jeno follows the silent instructions and rests his cheeks on marks thigh with a puffed out sigh.

mark reaches a hand down to play with jeno’s hair, and jeno can’t help the smile that envelops them knowing they finally got marks attention, at least partially.

“hey yed,” marks voice is soft and sweet and he cards his fingers through jeno’s bangs pushing them back and out of his face.

mark makes them feel like their in a jar of honey, their brain feels sickeningly sweet and works painfully, perfectly, slow. jeno manages to hum back a response. “hey,” they quietly greet and they nuzzle themself further against marks thigh.

“tired?” mark asks, brushing his thumb gently over jeno’s cheek and beneath his glasses along his closed eyelid before returning to softly scratching along his scalp.

“mhmmm” jeno hums, letting his head be moved along easily by marks fingers.

mark coos, “my poor baby,” and jeno’s smile turns positively dopey, he knows if mark ever looks down he’ll be met with a very obviously love sick idiot.

everything about jeno feels like jelly. he almost huffs at that realization, not because of the feeling but because he keeps comparing himself to food. jeno might just be hungry. this is what happens when his lunch and dinner scheduling is disturbed.

marks fingers move down the back of jeno’s neck and they shiver against his touch before relaxing fully back into his thigh, jeno hadn’t even noticed themself getting tense but somehow mark managed to picked up on it.

“do you want to tell me about your day, baby?” mark asks softly, massaging circles into the hair behind jeno’s ear.

“mmmm, there was a girl on the bus with a dog this morning, i didnt get to pet it though, wasn’t sure if it was working,” jeno pouts, his voice is barely above a whisper. his eyes squeeze shut as he tries to indulge completely in marks touch, “and i got lunch with renjun, we split a family size salad from the grocery store.”

“have you eaten dinner yet?” jeno shakes their head and in the process, leans back and rests their chin atop marks knee so they can look up at their partner.

mark looks down at them and then he’s fighting off a smile as he looks away. god, he loves mark.

jeno knows he’s in love. he has been for almost 4 years now and he doesn’t think it will ever go away. mark has always described being in love as some over powering force that disorients him, practically incapacitates him, but for jeno it’s different. for jeno, it’s relaxing, it’s comfortable, it’s like living in a cloud (if clouds weren’t just water droplets and were actually stretched out cotton balls). it was something so soft he let himself sink down into it, unsuspecting, and now he’s stuck, surface barely firm enough to move, let alone climb out of.

‘cotton candy!’ jeno marvels. falling in love was like getting tangled up in a wand of cotton candy, all sticky and pretty and a little bit messy. he imagines compressing it down between his fingers forming pink and blue sugar sheets that he longs to take a bite of. the more he lets his mind wander the more he wants to devour mark. jeno really wishes he grabbed food before he came, he can barely focus on the conversation at hand. this is getting embarrassing.

“there’s some left overs in the fridge if you want them,” mark is giving them his full attention now and jeno wonders what they did to earn the honour.

“maybe later,” jeno hums back because he’s a sap and no matter how much he wants food, he wants mark more. just like this.

“yed, you need to eat if you’re hungry,” he’s softly reprimanded, with absolutely no bite behind it. mark places his hand on jeno’s cheek, stroking under his eye with his thumb. jeno leans into his touch, as good as delirious.

there’s sparks flying inside of jeno’s head, mark being worried about him skipping a single meal shouldn’t make him feel as insane as it does. jeno can feel the oxytocin levels rising in his brain, in his mind it’s a soft lilac colour and it dances behind his eyes.

and then there’s a thumb against jeno’s bottom lip, their eyes practically go cross as they attempt to look down at it. mark laughs softly at their suprise and he presses down ever so slightly, it’s just enough to make jenos mouth drop open, a response that was practically automatic.

mark eases his thumb into jeno’s mouth and jeno nips at the tip of it. mark laughs. god they love making mark laugh, it’s not exactly a difficult feat but it feels blissful every time, nonetheless.

jeno presses his tongue against the pad of marks thumb, it’s salty. wow. jeno really could devour him. he can imagine how dumb he looks right now, on his knees, huge dark circles under his eyes, hair probably a mess, his tongue lapping up his boyfriends fucking finger, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. leave it to mark to enable his oral fixation when he least expected it.

“you’re so pretty,” mark hums, and jeno wants to melt. mark thinks he looks pretty. jeno wonders what he actually looks like from marks perspective, wonders how he would feel if mark was in his position. his partner looking up at him through his lashes with his pretty doe eyes that were almost glazed over with sleep. jeno is obsessed. but, he thinks, he might just be obsessed with everything mark does.

“stop looking at me like that,” mark mutters shyly, his tone laced in fondness. he removes his thumb from jeno’s mouth and looks away again, the tips of his ears tinted red, “at least not while i’m working.”

“sorry, just love you a lot,” jeno pushes himself off of his knees a little, so he can flop more of his body onto marks lap. his arms wrap around marks waist and his head rests on his abdomen, “can’t help it.”

“you-“ mark cuts himself off with a laugh, and starts to run his fingers through jeno’s hair again, “you make me feel crazy, did you know that?”

“mhmm” jeno hums back proudly. snuggling into his partner, who HE made feel crazy, “you love me.”

“i love you,” mark hums in agreement, “so much.”

they fall back into silence.

at least until jeno’s phone buzzes.

they slump down off of mark and sit on their calf’s in front of him. jeno’s eyes light up as soon as they see the message and mark sends them a curious glance as they begin to stand up.

“jaem texted,” jeno smiles with his eyes at his confused partner and kisses him on the cheek as a goodbye, “said he was making something to eat and needed my help.”

mark grabs their hand before they can go, and pulls them back into him, placing a firm kiss on jeno’s lips. jeno smiles brighter at the unexpected action but it falters slightly when mark doesn’t let him go.

“but you just got here,” mark pouts.

“i’ll be back, i promise,” jeno smiles sweetly and playfully tugs his hand away but mark only intertwine their fingers and pulls him closer, pecking his lips again, “i’m just going down the hall markie, you wanted me to eat right?”

“yes,” mark whines, “but i thought you’d just be heating up left overs and coming right back, if you help jaemin you could be gone all night.”

“you’re so dramatic,” jeno coos at his pouting partner, lifting their intertwined hands to kiss the back of marks hand as marks shoulders sag, “i’ll be quick.”

“i haven’t seen you all day.”

“neither has jaemin,” jeno laughs like mark is only teasing.

“jaemins not your boyfriend.”

“‘mark that’s dumb, i’m just going to make dinner,” they hated the tension, every part of jeno wants to relieve the conflict they knew they were teetering on the edge of, “you could make dinner with us if you want.”

mark squeezes his hand with a frown, “i cant baby, i have to work.”

“yeah,” jeno looks away, “that’s what i thought you’d say.”

“baby,” mark was firm, his jaw clenched, “stay please.”

“jaemin wants my help and i need dinner.”

“i don’t get you,” marks eye contact burns into them.

“what?” jeno frowns back.

“i don’t get you,” mark repeats, “i don’t get why you’re choosing jaemin over me.”

“markie, you’re being ridiculous,” jeno whines, “i’m not choosing anyone. i’m making dinner.”

“not just now, in general,” he’s holding jeno’s hand so tightly now it starts to hurt, “after what he did to you. i don’t know how you forgave him.”

“you don’t know anything about jaemin,” they know their tone is cold but they can’t help it, anger starting to bubble up inside them.

“i know a fuck ton about jaemin,” mark fights back, “ i know he’s a coward, i know that he didn’t fight for you like you’d fight for him.”

“he didn’t know.”

“how could he not know? you were miserable,” jeno feels his throat start to close up as mark continues, “did he not care about you at all?”

“shut up,” jeno chokes out. he doesn’t need to hear this. he doesn’t need to relive any of this. not over some petty argument. he couldn’t cry. he wouldn’t. he’s made to much progress moving past this to let it hurt him again.

“i’m sorry baby, but i just don’t get why it took your dad dying and you getting fucking institutionalized for him to come back,” if he truly was sorry he would listen to jeno and shut up, jeno thinks, he wants to scream but he doesn’t, “he doesn’t deserve you.”

“we were teenagers mark and i’m not his responsibility.”

“jeno you almost died,” jeno startles at marks volume

“i know!” their voice raises against their will and cracks, “but i didnt! i’m here aren’t i? and without jaemin i probably wouldn’t be so can you fucking drop this?”

“sorry,” mark repeats, his face was contorted in a mix of pain and conflict.

“it’s fine,” they huff, “can you just let go of me.”

jeno pulls his hand back gently but mark doesn’t budge, “baby i don’t want you to go like this, not after a fight.”

jeno furrows his eyebrows “mark. let go.”

he has the strength to pull his hand away himself, but he didn’t see why he had to exert force when his partner should let his hand go when he states he wants to be let go.

mark grips his hand tighter and jeno’s heart rate picks up, he really doesn’t like this, he needs to go, “let go,” he whispers.

mark gives him a begging look, “…jeno.”

“let me go.”

“jeno. baby. come on.”

“LET GO OF ME,” he yanks his hand away as hard as he can since clearly mark didn’t want to respect his autonomy.

it happens so fast, they don’t have control of the swing of their arm as it hits marks desk sending a glass clattering against a wall and a pile of papers falling to the ground. the glass smashes, loud, but all jeno can hear is the sound of their own heart and the shriek of his voice.

mark startles, his eyes go wide, concern taking over every one of his senses. jeno feels sick to their stomach.

“i’m sorry,” he cries, “i’m didn’t mean to yell, i didnt, i didnt. i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”

“shhhh,” mark hushes, not knowing if it was okay to reach out to comfort his panicking partner, “it’s okay baby, it’s my fault. everything’s okay. try to breath.”

they can’t process marks words, they feel dizzy, everything is blurring and fuzzy and bad. everything is bad and loud and painful. they squeeze their eyes shut, it’s disorienting, they see the blinding glow of headlight and glasses smash inside of their skull. right the glass. they broke a glass.

“i’m sorry,” jeno repeats, frantically wiping the tears away from his eyes before he drops to the ground, scrambling to pick up the broken shards of glass.

“hey, hey, baby, stop. please,” mark pulls at his shoulders trying to get him away from the glass, he easily tell how out of it his partner was, not wanting to take any risks to his well-being, “don’t worry about it baby. get away from the glass, it’s okay. i’ll clean it up. it’s okay baby.”

jeno doesn’t stop trying to collect the tiny shard that litter the ground, and marks concern only grows as they lets out a loud, painful, sob that makes their chest and throat ache.

“it’s okay, it’s okay,” mark coos softly, running his hand through jeno’s hair attempting to smooth him, “you’re safe, everything’s okay, i promise.”

jeno nods but marks not sure they’re processing a word he’s saying. he tries again to pull them away from the glass but jeno shakes him off with a shaky, heaved, breath.

“can you breath for me baby?” mark tries so hard to keep calm and steady, wanting to pull jeno back but not wanting to make any sudden or firm movements that would panic jeno further, “can you do that for me please?”

jeno tries to form a sentence but it comes out in a loud panic noise. he feels like he’s suffocating, his vision slowly boxing itself in.

“i’m so-“ jeno tries to repeat but he speaks like he’s out of breath. he’s falling, every sound is distant and fuzzy like a messed up radio signal.

he can barely hear it as marks bedroom door is slammed open but his skin burns as he’s pulled into a suffocating, protective hug. it’s not mark, mark is knocked onto his ass beside them and he could feel himself being pulled in the opposite direction.

“jeno, jen, are you okay?” it’s underwater and distorted but they can tell it’s jaemin. they couldn’t wrap their head around why jaemin was there, what he was asking, nothing felt right, “did you get cut by any glass, let me see you.”

glass. the glass. the glass he shattered, after he yelled. he felt sick to his stomach knowing he caused enough of a commotion for jaemin to hear from the kitchen.

“jen, i need you to answer me, are you okay?” jeno cant seem to keep his attention on anything, he feels trapped deep in his mind watching everything with a delay. he nods.

“what the fuck did you do?” jaemin sounds so harsh and it makes their heart clench but the comment isn’t directed towards them.

“nothing,” mark sounds just as cold, “get out, i’ll fix it.”

“nothing?” jaemin’s voice rises, but to jeno its moving further away from him. he gasps for air, or maybe he just breaths, he can’t tell, everything is heavy.

he pushes himself away from jaemin, who seems to be rather preoccupied with arguing with mark and shakes as he stands to his feet, “i’m going-“ he tries to speak, “i’m gonna lie down.”

he stumbles to the bed and lays there, staring up at the ceiling, letting one more tear fall before everything stops. he’s spaced out and the argument booming in the room is nothing but muffled white noise.

they don’t know how long the screaming match lasts. they’re not really here anyways. they’re back home in their childhood bedroom and everything’s okay.

-

marks sighs when jaemin leaves, wanting toss another round of papers off of his desk but he doesn’t. jaemins parting warning, “be a better boyfriend before you aren’t a boyfriend at all,” repeats itself in his head.

he sits at the end of the bed, easing into the comfort as it says below him. he places his hand on jeno’s ankle.

“jeno?” he says softly and gets no response.

he sighs again and let’s himself fall back into his back, “can you come back to me, baby?”

no response.

he reaches up and delicately holds jeno’s hand, they lay like this for a few seconds and mark takes everything in, “baby, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand, please.”

mark waits a couple seconds. then 5. then 10. after 14 he feels a squeeze. it was light but it was enough to send a spark of relief down marks spine.

“i’m sorry for raising my voice,” mark takes a shaky breath, “and for not letting you go… and for what i said about jaemin. i know you love him- and he loves you, he does, i know that. it’s just sometimes i get so mad at him and- and-“

mark tries to clear his throat to make his voice stay sturdy, “i’m sorry.”

jeno doesn’t respond, but mark doesn’t expect them to. he lets go of their hand and pushes himself back up. he looks back at jeno as he gets off the bed to grab a spare blanket from his closest, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get the blanket on his bed out from under jeno easily.

he sits at the top of the bed beside jeno and fluffs the blanket out so it’s covering the both of them. gently, he takes jeno’s glasses off, doling them closed and reaches over jeno to place them on the the nightstand on jeno’s side.

mark snuggles under the blanket and into jeno, kissing his forehead, “i love you.”

no response.

mark bites back tears, not liking when jeno’s upset with him or when he’s the cause of jeno panicking enough to retreat into the safety of his mind.

jeno rolls over to face him and ducks his head into his chest.

mark closes his eyes and a couple of tears make it free, he lets himself relax next to jeno.

“i’m sorry,” mark whispers again.

“it’s okay,” jeno whispers back.

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

#park jisung au #nct jisung fic #nct dream series #nct fanfic #jisung smau #pnp series #jisung fic #nct au #nct fic #nct fanfiction #nct fan fiction #nct series #nct band au #nct texts #nct text au #nct fake texts #nct angst #nct fluff #markno #nct drabbles #nct drabble #nct imagines #nct scenarios #mark fic #jeno fic #nct reactions #nct social media au #nct socmed au #nct smau #nct social au

[magpiefngrl]

any books you’ve enjoyed lately? xx

Hey! Thanks for the great ask, I love to talk books!

So the most recent reads have actually been re-reads: I went back and read Captive Prince for the 4th time, and then Dark Rise and am now rereading Dark Heir, which I only first read at the beginning of the month. It was because I read DH and couldn't move on from it that I decided to do a big reread of the whole of Pacat's oeuvre.

New books I enjoyed this year are:

the latest KJ Charles, A Nobleman's Guide to Seducing a Scoundrel. I'm a big fan of KJC and have read all of her romances (almost 30 by now). I'm due for a reread soon, I think.

I can't say I totally loved the Dominion of the Fallen trilogy by Aliete de Bodard, but I did enjoy the worldbuilding in her novels and I LOVED one of the main ships she has. The two sequel novellas that focus on these two characters were my favourites: Of Dragons, Feasts and Murders, and Of Charms, Ghosts and Grievances. They can prob be read as standalones. I love Asmodeus/Thuan so so much, and I want more people to talk about them with!

I've started the Vorkosigan saga, a sci-fi series from the 80s-90s, and am enjoying it so far.

I've read a few more of Tana French's Dublin series. She's got a gorgeous writing style and her murder mysteries are more like deep character studies than plotty thrillers, which is more my thing.

send me an ask!

#inbox #books #book recs

[yinyuedijun]

Ughhh I'm SO tempted to try writing DH smut but I'm terrible at it, I get embarrassed at my own work and idk if I could even finish it but this idea has been plaguing me ever since penacony was released

I'm thinking like, reader is part of the express crew and has been secretly in love w dan heng for a while - typical they both love each other but are oblivious kinda thing. So obviously, in the land of dreams, reader immediately gets a dream version of dan heng and gets to enjoy doing every cutesy lovey-dovey thing they can think of - and then it's time to leave. Reader feels a bit guilty bc dan heng is their good friend and they know they wouldn't be able to look at him the same after this, but it's their last day in the land of dreams and they just can't miss the opportunity. And they fuck him like a bitch in heat - trying everything and anything they ever fantasized about. And it's all well and good, until reader gets late for the check out and the crew asks dan heng to go fetch them in their dream... only for him to find you getting absolutely railed by a dream version of himself.

FLSJSSLSUANALDJAN ANON YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED I fully encourage you to write this ... I believe in u I admire u I support u unconditionally. don't worry about being embarrassed we can live in shame together 🫶

#AHHHHH #normally id riff on this or even write it BUT !!!!! i am not going to since you seem keen on doing it <333 #i fully support u !!!! #yueshuo.asks #asks.anon #nsft

[toomuchracket]

Was thinking about this all day at work…

D word Matty accompanying you and baba as you return to the DH office for the first time since going on maternity. Matty drives (Range Rover. He decided you needed a massive car as soon as you got pregnant). And he’s such a dilf as he busies himself getting the baby out of the car, insisting you do nothing. He carries the car seat in one hand (tendons flexing, veins popping) and reaches for your hand with the other. The three of you walk into the office together. Matty’s hair is all messy and grey and gorgeous- he’s in glasses too, I’ve decided. He makes sure to hold open every door.

As your colleagues all quietly crowd around you and the baby, Matty keeps his hand on your back and watches closely for any signs you’re overwhelmed (you’re not. It’s nice to see everyone again).

He’s just a superstar dad the whole time you’re there (an hour or so probably) and everyone notices it. He’s so gentle and perfect. And you’re so fucking glad you insisted you were ready for kids.

my god... this is not helping my part-time delusions of being a range rover milf lol.

anyway, you know what i think would be really cute? taking the baby in to see all your colleagues just after you've taken her (girldad matty supremacy always) to be registered and gotten her birth certificate, a couple of weeks after she's born. like you're in london anyway, it's a perfect day, and you turn to matty in the car (which he looks soooooo sexy driving, and which you've told him you're going to jump him in when you're allowed to have sex again lol) and say "i think we should take her into work to meet everyone today". and matty thinks for a second and he's like "well, she's napping now and she's been fed, so we could. if you feel up to it, that is, sweetheart", and you're like "yeah i'm alright! i really want to show our girl off lol" and matty grins and he's like "me too. wanna show both my girls off". so you call jamie and tell him you're bringing the baby in, but not to tell anyone - it'll be a cute surprise for your work friends (obv the boys have already met her, and jamie has too). it takes you bloody ages to get parked somewhere near the office (it's literally on oxford street), but you manage eventually; matty insists on both opening your door for you and running to detach the little car seat/carrier combo thing you've got for baba, which is fine by you because you get to watch him be all dilfy. and he really, really is, all grey curls and sexy glasses and biceps flexing as he easily lifts your daughter out of the car - but also, he's so adorable, the way his eyes light up when he looks at her and the softness in his voice as he coos "it's ok, my darling, you can go back to sleep" as she starts to stir a little bit. and then matty's immediately back to being the dilf of all dilfs, holding the baby carrier in one arm and tugging you into him for a kiss with the other, before he takes your hand and you quickly hurry onto oxford street and into the office building before anyone clocks you.

and like you said, despite matty literally carrying the baby (you try not to salivate at the muscles and veins all prominent in his arm while you're in the lift in front of the mirror), he's still making a point of rushing ahead to open doors for you and kiss your cheek as you walk through, which makes you blush. by the time the two of you get into the office itself, you're both beaming happily, and the baby is snoozing adorably. the team are all having a little friday mid-morning meeting when you get in, so they've all got their backs to you except jamie - thinking you'd quip "hey, sorry i'm late, you wouldn't believe how long childbirth takes", and all these heads would turn in delight towards you, gasping quietly when they see matty there too holding the baby. someone's like "i can't believe you're all here!" and matty's like "well, we had to show our girl where her parents met, didn't we?" lol. but yeah, you get lot of hugs and compliments on how well you look - tbf, so does matty lol - before everyone gathers round to properly meet the baby for the first time; she's stirring slightly again, so you hold her while you talk about her and her birth and all that, in case she starts mewling and needs to be soothed. matty's got his arms around your waist, just gazing lovingly over your shoulder at his baby girl and periodically asking "you feeling ok, sweetheart?" in your ear - he takes her off to change her when she starts to get a bit gurny (someone jokes "oh, he really does do the nappies. manifested"), and holds her sleepy against his chest when the two of them get back from the bathroom. you keep losing your train of thought every time you look over at matty and your daughter, him gently caressing her back to help her fall asleep as someone shows him some production details of an ep the label are about to release or some shit, and everyone you've spoken to has just been like "he's so good at this parenting thing, so natural. you both are!" and you're like "i agree lol i think we were both just ready for this step, starting a family" (you really were, and matty thinks so too).

all in all, you're in the office for a couple of hours (you sat and had a cuppa with everyone, so it took a little longer than you'd thought); matty's insistent like "right, it's time to go home now babe" when you actually start seriously discussing work things and go to log into your emails to help, despite still being on mat leave and everyone telling you no lol. but you've had such a lovely time - matty's loved showing off his girls, the loves of his life, to the team, and you both think it's a total full circle moment for you, having your newborn daughter's carseat resting on the desk matty used to chat you up at lmao. and matty insists on carrying the baby back out to the car, cooing at her the whole time and as he's putting her into her carseat, and you're just so full of love for the two of them (and hormonal) that you start sobbing a little bit. naturally, matty's at you within seconds, holding your face and wiping your tears away with his thumbs like "what's wrong, darlin'? are you alright?"; you giggle softly and say "yeah, i just love you so much. you and our little girl", and matty tears up a bit too and says "i love you both so much, too, you're my everything". and it's just the two of you hugging and crying quietly outside your car, baby asleep and none the wiser, until you're like "right, let's go home before people clock us crying like weirdos in central lmao", and matty laughs and he's like "yeah, or before our daughter learns how uncool we actually are. she's too little for that lol". but all in all, the whole day is so perfect, just like your little family <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #dad!matty #d word matty #literal d word